LAST KISS

IN

TIANANMEN SQUARE

Lisa Zhang Wharton

Copyright © 2011 Lisa Zhang Wharton

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

(Fantasy Island Book Publishing)

Credits

Front Cover © Lisa Zhang Wharton

Senior Editor: Pamela Brennan

Structural Editor: J. Darroll Hall

Front Cover Artist: Jake Riggle

Contact us at: www.fantasyislandbookpublishing.com

Dedicated to my husband, Eric Wharton who has provided invaluable support

To my son William Wharton who has provided constant amusement and his confidence in me has prompted me to finish this book

To my parents (Kaiming Zhang and Meizhen Cheng) who have raised me in an unusual and story-worthy environment

Tables of Contents

Tables of Contents iv

Prologue 1

Chapter 1 3

Chapter 2 19

Chapter 3 31

Chapter 4 49

Chapter 5 55

Chapter 6 66

Chapter 7 74

Chapter 8 88

Chapter 9 100

Chapter 10 116

Chapter 11 128

Chapter 12 134

Chapter 13 152

Chapter 14 158

Chapter 15 165

Chapter 16 175

Chapter 17 190

Chapter 18 200

Chapter 19 216

Chapter 20 231

Epilogue 246

Except from “Chinese Lolita” 250

Dear Reader,

Please note that throughout this novel Beijing University will be colloquially know as Beida.

Prologue

At dawn on April 22, 1989, Tiananmen Square awakened as the sun lit the sky. Hundreds of students who had camped in the square overnight came to life. They were waiting to pay their last respects to Hu Yaobang, a member of political bureau, and former Secretary General of the Communist Party. The students wanted to voice their demands for a more free and open society. They wanted to continue what Hu Yaobang had started campaigning for three years earlier: a free press and a multi-party system of government.

Police soon systematically cleared the vast space in front of the Great Hall of the People, where the memorial service was going to be held. More and more citizens joined the peaceful demonstration as the rising sun shone in the eastern sky. They remained silent and watched with some contempt as the police stopped traffic to let a dozen red-flagged passenger cars that carried the top communist leaders solemnly enter the square. The radios in some students’ hands announced the start of the service, and the crowd began inching forward. More police rushed out of the gate of the Great Hall of the People, brandishing clubs. The crowd shouted and cursed at the police, who linked their arms and barely managed to stop the sea of angry people.

“Wait, be quiet, please! We are sending our representatives in first,” announced an apparent student leader through a megaphone.

Three student representatives, wearing white shirts and black arm bands on their left arms (following the Chinese tradition: of a black arm band on the left arm indicating the deceased was a male, with band on the right arm meaning a female) for the death of Hu Yaobang, appeared and knelt in the middle of the steps leading to the gate of the Great Hall of the People, waiting to be led in. Each carried a piece of folded black cloth, which contained a list of their requests:

Authorities guarantee their safety

Let them enter the Great hall of the People to pay their last respects to Hu Yaobang.

Allow the Free Press

Install a multi-party system of government

Hours passed before the first representative, a young woman with short hair, fell down from heat and hunger. Then the tall and thin teenage girl collapsed. The last one, a short but muscular young man held up until the service finished. The gate of the Great Hall of the People did not open. No one came out to take their requests. It was rumored that the officials had escaped through the back doors after the memorial service.

“If I had cannon, I would have destroyed that Hall,” said one student.

Chapter 1

The day Baiyun heard that Hu Yaobang was dead; she knew a volcano would erupt.

It was Sunday afternoon. Baiyun’s forty-six year old mother, Meiling, had shut herself in the bedroom with her boyfriend. Baiyun was initially unaware of the activity in the next room when she came home, until she recognized their loud voices behind Meiling’s bedroom door.

Meiling’s voice penetrated through the door “Am I right? Did that little bitch try to seduce you yesterday? Don’t think I am blind!”

“Come on. That’s absolutely not true. Don’t be suspicious all the time.” Baiyun recognized the deep voice as that of Meiling’s new boyfriend, Lao Zheng. Meiling and Lao Zheng purchased an industrial construction business last year and had been working together ever since.

“I just want to keep an eye on you,” said Meiling.

Baiyun did not like Lao Zheng. Ever since Meiling had broken up with her long time boyfriend, uncle Weiming seven years earlier, a factory worker, whom Baiyun considered her real father, Baiyun had had a hard time accepting anyone else. She was too old to think of her mother’s new boyfriends as adults or stepparents, especially as most of them were younger than her mother was. To Meiling, Baiyun had become a rival. But Baiyun could deal with Meiling’s new boyfriends diplomatically. After all, they had added some spice to the family’s dull life after her real father was injured twenty years ago after coming back from a labor camp during the Cultural Revolution.

In order not to disturb Meiling, Baiyun tiptoed to the refrigerator and took out a square of Spam, a dishful of stir-fried liver and a few steamed sesame buns. While she was heating the food in the kitchen, Meiling stuck her head outside her bedroom door and yelled, “Hey, my college girl is home.”

“Hi, Mother. Is it all right if I eat this food in the fridge?”

“Oh, yes. Your uncle Lao Zheng made that especially for you. You should eat it up so you’ll be big and strong.”

“Mother, stop! My classmates are calling me little fat girl. I need to lose weight.”

“Nonsense. Who says fat is ugly? Look at those American movie stars,” Meiling pointed to the movie star calendar on the wall, “They all have full bodies and beautiful big breasts. Skinny means sexless. And which of your classmates can afford such nice food at home. They are jealous of you!” Meiling disappeared behind the bedroom door.

Baiyun carried the heated food to the room served both as her father’s bedroom and the family living-room, which looked just the same as when Baiyun left for college three years before. Her parents had added only one piece of furniture - a tall dresser with a full-sized mirror, which was in the corner of the room by the window. A heavy wooden desk located at the other corner of the room by the window and a round glass dining table dominated the center of the room.

On the far side of the room, an old man with a head of snowy hair lay on a single bed. A corner of a large dirty floral blanket covered his belly. His head tilted toward one side of the pillow where his dripping saliva created a dark water stain. His face was red and wrinkled and resembled a rotten apple. An arm hung loosely over the side of the bed. He wore a faded green sweat-stained shirt and gray cotton underwear. On the bed rail, rested his two extraordinarily ugly feet, dry and covered with blisters.

"Meow! Meow!" Father mumbled as though still enjoying the taste of wine in his dream.

Baiyun didn’t like her family much, especially after she found out that most of her classmates in college had far more normal family lives than she had. Lately her father had started making cat noises, which felt like a knife cutting through her nerves every time she heard it. She often thought of running away. But how could she do it? The country was vast but the people were mostly caged like chickens. Recently the government allowed people to leave the country and go to America if they could pass the TOFEL exam (an entrance exam for foreign students to get into an American college) and get accepted at American colleges. Baiyun had been studying English and getting ready to leave as soon as she could. America was definitely a place far enough to escape, she often told herself.

Baiyun ignored her father and sat down at the round dining table. First she put two spoonful of fried liver, tender and delicious, and a thin piece of Spam into a bowl, and then spread out the “China Daily”, the only English language newspaper in Beijing, next to it. She began to indulge her two biggest joys in life, eating and reading. She read about Hu Yaobang’s memorial service and the students’ peaceful demonstration in Tiananmen Square. Even though she was away from her school, Beijing University, her heart was stirred. A desire was burning in her heart. She wanted to get back to school immediately to witness the new student movement first-hand.

After finishing the liver in the bowl, Baiyun cut a small corner of the Spam and added another spoonful of liver. She paused, deciding if she should to eat more or not. She patted her little round belly pushing up from her tight blue jeans and touched her puffy cheeks with her palms. She pushed the dish and bowl aside, staring at her dull reflection in the mirror-like table surface. She still had an almond-shaped face, a pair of big dark brown eyes behind her white-framed glasses, and a black spot on the right side of her straight nose. Some of her friends called it a beauty spot, but others said it was a misery spot. Sometimes she agreed with the second opinion. She gulped down the last of the Spam in two bites and finished the fried liver.

“Hi, Baiyun. You’re back.” Lao Zheng came out and startled her.

“Shh, don’t wake up Father,” said Baiyun, putting her index finger on her lips. She turned around and saw her father still sound asleep. She sometimes wasn’t sure whether he was really sleeping. She thought maybe her father pretended to be asleep all the time since the reality was far too ugly to see. Baiyun ignored Lao Zheng and went back to reading the newspaper.

“Just like your mother said, our great intellectual even makes use of her meal time to enrich her mind. I would say that’s why you are ten times smarter than your mother.” Lao Zheng edged himself into a chair next to Baiyun as if afraid of wrinkling his freshly ironed white shirt and brown pants. He was a handsome man with a tall solid body and a square weathered face. His eyes, though small, were full of charm.

“Yes, it’s a big paper. I have to read fast,” said Baiyun. She ignored him and kept her eyes on the paper.

“Your mother and I wondered where you were this morning.”

“I went to a book discussion. We discussed the Shakespeare’s play called ‘Romeo and Juliet’.”

“Okay. I think your mother has told me about this play.”

“Good.”

“My mind is getting rusty. You can correct me if I’m wrong. Has they both killed themselves in the end?”

“Ya. Only true lovers will die for each other.”

“Oh, I see. I heard your mother say the same thing.” He leaned forward, lowered his voice and pretended to be mysterious.

“How about you?” Baiyun turned around and stared at him. “Are you willing to die for love or you’d rather die for money?”

“A good question. I haven’t decided yet. It depends on how much your mother loves me.” He winked at her and asked, “Can you lend me a copy to read?”

“What are you two talking about? It sounds so interesting.” Meiling strolled into the room wearing a red silk blouse and a pair of white pants. Her black perm hair was tied up behind her head with a tiger eye barrette.

“About books,” Baiyun murmured and dropped her head.

“Really? I didn’t know he could carry on such a serious conversation,” Meiling winked at Lao Zheng. She put her palms against her waist and tilted her upper body back a little.

“Hey, I only talk about intelligent things with an intelligent person.” Lao Zheng sat back and scooted away from Baiyun.

“Mother, I’m going back to school.” Baiyun jumped up and began collecting the dirty dishes on the table. She could never bear to witness Meiling, Lao Zheng and her father in the same room. She heard stirring in her father’s bed. She imagined her father standing up and finally confronting Meiling and Lao Zheng. She sensed a volcano was about to erupt here in her own family. She would be safer back at school.

“You are leaving? Really? Why so soon? Why don’t you stay? Your uncle and I are planning to take you out for dinner tonight.”

“No, Mother. Please understand. My roommate Yumei is sick. I have to go back to take care of her. Besides, there must be a lot going on around the campus.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t hold you back. But, be careful. Keep in mind that you are going to America in three months. Don’t get involved too much with those student activists, especially that Yumei. She is only interested in sleeping around. How awful?”

“Yes, Mother.” Baiyun said and pursed her lips. Still being a virgin, she was not envious of Yumei.

“Okay, you’d better get ready.” Meiling and Lao Zheng went back to Meiling’s room.

Baiyun took some clothes from the dresser drawer and a few tea eggs and apples from the refrigerator. Before she stepped out the door, she heard Meiling’s voice.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to Uncle Zheng, and… your father?”

“Bye, Uncle Zheng,” Baiyun mumbled. After that she went to her father’s bed and said “Father, I’m leaving.” Her father opened his eyes. “Oh, you’re leaving. See you.” His lips trembled and then he closed his eyes as though nothing had happened. Baiyun felt a stir in her heart but she could do nothing but leave this mess behind her.

She walked to her bicycle, parked under the window in front of their apartment. She unlocked it and hung the bag of food on one side and the clothes on the other side of the handlebars.

It was unusual weather for April, warm and humid, quite a change from the normal dry weather of Beijing’s spring.

On the Beijing Industrial University campus, life was going on as usual. Baiyun rode her bike slowly among people who were just returning from work. Some of them rode with full loads, bags of groceries on each side of their handle-bars, wives with children on their laps, sitting together on the back fender seats.

No traffic police were at present on campus. Drivers of cars did whatever they could to go by; bicycles swerved through the crowd; pedestrians wandered on both sides of the road; and children played in the middle of the street. “Dingling!” A bicycle bell rang behind her. A young woman, with a head full of hair curlers and a wash basin full of dirty clothes tied onto her bike seat, swung by Baiyun like a gust of wind. She must have just come back from the community baths and gotten all her energy from the heat.

Ten minutes later when Baiyun arrived at the gate of the Beijing University campus, the guard hollered at her, “Your student I.D., please!”

She showed it to him and rode on. School officials enforced the gate only on special occasions and she wondered what caused it today. Although it was Sunday afternoon, the streets were crowded with students coming back early from home, and Baiyun sensed tension in the air. People walked faster. Their faces were solemn instead of happy and relaxed from a weekend’s break. Some carried colored poster board under their arms. Along the gray-brick dormitory buildings, huge computer printouts hung out of windows saying, “Yaobang is gone, we mourn,” or “Yaobang, we are never going to forget you,” or “Yaobang, rest your soul, we will carry on your duty.” They flapped in the wind and made a crackling sound. As she approached the “triangle”, a famous poster area and students’ gathering place, she saw even more people. Layer upon layer of fresh new posters plastered the poster stand. Students were jammed in front of it on tiptoes. As an experienced junior, she decided to go back to her dormitory first and join the crowd later. She knew this was likely the beginning of a new student movement.

She arrived at her dormitory, Building 27, and parked her bike. The long hallway spanning the ground floor was like a dark tunnel. Every time she walked into it, she felt like she was walking toward eternity. She climbed the cement staircases to the fourth floor. She stopped for a while to catch her breath. She reached her dormitory room and found the door closed. A pile of sunflower seed shells littered the hallway outside of the room. She knocked and quickly went back to the hallway

“Who is it?” her roommate, Yumei, asked.

The door slid open. As soon as Yumei’s face appeared, Baiyun jumped right in front of her.

“Ah,” Yumei cried, “Baiyun, you’ve scared me.” They hugged each other. “It’s nice of you to come back early.”

As usual, the room was in chaos. The dormitory room for six was just big enough for three double bunk beds on each side and a shared multi- purpose desk in the middle. The desk was also used as a communal dining table and now was covered with dirty dishes and leftover food.

“Are you expecting Longfe?” Baiyun asked.

“Not really. I’m just bored. He was here Friday night and left for home on Saturday. Then Liu Ping came over for a while. I kicked him out.”

“Why?”

“He was so boring. I’m just bored. I want to cry, cry really loud.” Yumei’s face lengthened. Her almond eyes brimmed with tears.

“Then go and cry.” Baiyun shrugged. Sometimes Yumei’s theatrics went too far.

“No, I don’t want to. People will think I’m crazy.” Yumei dove back onto her bed and buried her head in the pillow.

“So what? So many people on campus want to cry out loud. If you do it, they will all follow you.”

“Yes, and then I’ll be the toast of the campus.” She jumped up, waving her arms in the air as if she were dancing. “Let’s take a bath. I haven’t taken a bath for a week. I stink.”

“Are you up to it?” She asked

“I feel fine now. Let’s go.” Yumei pulled a suitcase out from under her bed, took out a red sweater and a pair of blue jeans, and put them on. Then she threw her pajamas into the pile of blankets, wrinkled sheets, and dirty clothes on her bed.

Baiyun also took out some clean clothes from the plastic bag she had brought from home. She wrapped them up with a towel, and put them into a washbasin along with soap, shampoo and a comb. Yumei followed suit.

“Let’s go before I become the toast of the campus,” said Yumei while rushing down the stairs, two steps at a time. She is really charged up, Baiyun said to herself. She was always surprised by how fast Yumei’s moods could change.

Although they were both about 5’4”, Baiyun and Yumei were built quite differently. Baiyun had grown up in Beijing and was a typical northerner with darker, rougher skin, a big waist and a plump body. She was actually a beautiful woman with big, dark eyes, thick eyebrows and exceptional red lips. But she often hid behind her glasses because she wanted to keep the boys away so that she could concentrate on her studies. Yumei was from a small town in southern China. She had a dancer’s body with narrow shoulders, small waist and slim body. She had surprisingly large breasts that dominated her figure. Her outgoing personality made her even more beautiful. She was always proud of the interest shown by many of the male students. Study for her was a secondary matter, though she managed to do it well.

The cherry blossoms were out and crocuses were blooming all over the campus. The baths were located near their dormitory, just across a small brick road. The streets were unusually quiet. A mourning atmosphere persisted. Even the sunset looked especially red.

“What did you do during the weekend?” Here came Yumei’s usual question.

“I went to a book discussion and had an ‘intellectual conversation’ with my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, my great intellectual! You mean you spent the whole weekend studying? How boring!”

“Why not? I like it, especially when I’m reading a good book, I don’t need to sleep.”

“Amazing! How is your mother’s new boyfriend?”

“I don’t like him!”

“Why?”

“Because he is such a stupid shit.”

“Woo! Is he younger than your mother? That may explain your jealousy.”

“Ten years younger. Come on, I’m not jealous. I just don’t like the way he looks at me. It’s full of lust.”

“Ha, ha. You should like it when a man thinks you are attractive.”

“I don’t think so, especially when he is a stupid man. Besides, I don’t want to fight a man with Mother. Her life is hard enough.”

“I bet you are still a virgin, Baiyun.”

“So, what?” she replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “I know you are always secretly having sex with Longfe and whoever else. Everyone is talking about it. I would rather study. Youth is too precious to be wasted on anything else.”

“Yes, exactly. Youth is too precious to waste. We should have as many experiences as possible before we finally have to get married.”

“Why do you have to experience it all when you are young? My mother is forty-six-years old and she’s dating a thirty-six-year old man.”

“Your mother is incredible. I admire her. How about you?”

“Me? I don’t know. ”

They arrived at the baths, threw their pre-purchased little white tickets into a hand-made wooden box by the door, and walked right by the guard. The guard, a little old lady, sat there motionless and did not even bother to lift her thin, rice-paper-like face away from her magazine to look at them.

A gust of cold wet wind hit them because the baths were not very crowded, making the space colder than usual. Not enough steam had been generated by the showers to warm the place. The ceiling window was cracked open as usual, which was necessary when the place was crowded and hot. Nobody ever bothered to close it when it was cold.

They walked through dressing rooms filled with white painted wooden lockers stacked together against both sides of the wall to the innermost room, hoping it was warmer. They set their washbasins on the bench.

“Wow, it’s so cold here.” said Yumei, shrinking her neck into her sweater collar.

“We have to strip down and run.” Baiyun found a better-looking cabinet where the clasp of the lock was not broken and wiped the inside with her palm to see whether or not it was clean.

As they removed their clothing, they shivered and romped together toward the showers, carrying their soap, towels, and basins.

“You stink, Baiyun.” Yumei covered her nose with her towel.

“Really, how come I can’t smell it?”

“Because you are used to the smell of your stinky armpits.”

“Why am I the only one who has stinky armpits? I bet you do, too. Let me smell yours.” Baiyun pulled the towel away from Yumei and smelled it. “Mmm... Smells wonderful. It’s the perfume. No wonder you smell so good.”

“Stop.” Yumei slapped Baiyun on the arm. “It’s better than smelling like a wolf.”

“Yes, we smell like wolves, we smell like wolves.” They sang together as they ran toward the shower room.

The shower room was not as fogged by the hot steam as it usually was. It was clear and cold. The noise of running water, bouncing against the cement floor told them that they were not alone. They passed several rows of showers separated into stalls by concrete walls and found their favorite stalls. Since not every shower worked and not all of those worked well, it was very important to find a good one. Some were too weak; it took a long time to wet your body with a thin stream of water. Some were so powerful that the water peppered your body like bullets, giving you a headache. After three years of taking showers here, they knew the best showers, the second best ones and the ones to avoid. Usually they had to stand in line to get to the good ones. Today they were lucky.

They chose two showers next to each other, and started washing. Yumei’s hair was light and fluffy while Baiyun’s dark and straight. They had to shampoo two or three times in order to get rid of a week of hair grease. This was how often they took showers.

“My head is so itchy,” said Yumei.

“Me too. But I have to be careful. I’m beginning to lose too much hair.” Baiyun scratched her head under the shower.

“You have studied too hard.”

“It’s worth losing a few hairs to get more knowledge.”

“You are kidding, right? If you lose any more, you’ll look like a monk. You are so stubborn. Nowadays everyone cares only about making money, getting rich. No one cares about studying anymore.” Yumei struggled to pull a comb through her long hair. Then suddenly she stepped back. “Oh, the water turned cold.”

“That’s why we have to go to the monastery to study. Only there can one find a peaceful environment.”

“Baiyun, the water is cold.” Yumei pulled Baiyun out.

“No wonder it feels a little cooler.” Baiyun stared at Yumei and said.

“Oh, my great intellectual. Maybe we should begin to rub our backs.”

Baiyun helped Yumei tie her hair into a knot on the top of her head. Then she wet her towel under the cold water, squeezed it hard and rolled it into a spindle. “I’ll help you first.”

“Ok.” Stretching her arms, Yumei bent forward and held herself against the stall with her palms. Baiyun scraped Yumei’s back hard. Soft, black gums of dirt rolled down on her back. Very soon her back turned red.

“Ah! Ah!” Yumei whined.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, scrape it hard. Ah... I want it clean. Ah.”

Then Baiyun rubbed Yumei’s shoulders, hips and circled around her breasts.

Baiyun always envied Yumei’s big breasts. She wondered what she did to deserve them. She suspected that as a small town girl, Yumei probably grew up in a freer environment than she did. The wind of many political movements never blew that far. She was probably able to talk to those boys, play with them and even go out on dates with them during high school. Unlike Yumei, Baiyun was reared in the political and cultural center of China, the capital and the second largest city in China, which was akin to being raised in a convent. She was so used to that kind of life that she even contemplated becoming a monk at one point in her life. Her mother always told her that pretty women usually did not have good luck. Looking at her mother’s life, she believed it. But deep in her psyche, she wished that one day a prince riding a white horse would come to her, say he loved her, and carry her away.

“Hey, are you daydreaming again?” Yumei asked.

“Oh! It’s done. I was ruminating.”

“Ruminating? I call it slow to react.”

By the time both their backs were hot and burning, the water became warm again. They quickly soaped their bodies, rinsed them and were ready to dry off.

More students were coming into the bathhouse. Soon the baths became crowded. Steam and fog, like a thin veil, shrouded the small mostly bony college students. Some were too young, yet to grow into full-sized adults; some were simple small elegant girls from southern China.

Baiyun and Yumei wound their way through the now crowded sea of naked bathers, trying to avoid being splashed by soapy, brown water.

“Yes, I feel so clean, so good.” Yumei leaped forward. She ran so fast that one of her slippers flew away and Baiyun had to pick it up for her.

It was dark outside. The spring blossoms filled the air with sweet fragrance. Baiyun was in high spirits. The earlier uneasiness caused by the strange encounter with her mother’s boyfriend and compounded by the fantasy in the bathhouse had suddenly disappeared. Spring always meant hope, didn’t it? She asked herself. Maybe she should do something besides studying.

“What shall we do tonight?” Yumei asked.

Still indulging herself in the ecstasy of spring, Baiyun did not answer.

“I know you’re going to go to the library, study, and leave me alone in the dorm,” Yumei sighed.

“You are the one who has a lot of friends, most of whom are boys. Why do you complain about being alone?”

“I’m tired of them.”

“Perhaps we can stroll around the campus and read some big-letter posters.”

“You’re going to give up some of your precious study time?”

“You, rascal!”

On Sunday nights, the cafeteria was dim and the food supply slim with some leftover boiled bok choy, dry steam bread and cold pork sausage. Behind the counter stood a tired young man, whose small slender body was a strong indication of his obvious lack of nutrition.

“I’m tired of this stupid steam bread and terrible vegetables.” Yumei complained and bought a strip of pork sausage and half of a steam bread to wrap it in. Baiyun liked almost all the food at school. For her it was a change from the greasy food at home. She was not very choosy about her food and always looked forward to every meal. Yumei was different. Her small delicate stomach could handle only limited amounts and certain kinds of food and sometimes she could not stomach any food at all. They decided to take their food back to their room.

Yumei swiveled her hips, walking like a dancer. A nice-looking tall male student wearing blue-Jeans and a brown blazer approached Yumei.

“Hi, Yumei. How are you?” He said.

“Hi, hi.” Yumei answered, a little startled.

“Do you remember, we danced at a party last week?” The young man said tenderly. His small eyes formed a thin line, focusing on Yumei’s breasts rather than her eyes.

“Oh... yes.”

“I live in Dorm #40. You can come and visit me tonight.”

“Sure.” Yumei nodded reluctantly while the young man walked away.

“I don’t even know him. Don’t you think it’s strange?” Yumei asked. She was a little confused and a little proud.

“You must have closed your eyes when he was dancing with you.”

“You nasty woman!” Yumei hit Baiyun’s back. The blow was so weak that Baiyun could barely feel it.

A few more young men waved at Yumei. Baiyun kept quiet, still feeling a little dreamy after her fantasy in the bath house.

When they reached the building entrance, a young man jumped in front of them.

“Hi, girls,” he said.

“Uh, Longfe, you jumped in front of us like a rapist. Take this food if you want.” Yumei yelled at him to cover the excitement of seeing him.

“Ok, I’ll bring it upstairs for you.” Longfe was a tall slender smooth-faced gentleman with a pair of dark-framed glasses.

“We were planning to visit you after dinner today,” said Baiyun while they were walking up the stairs.

“Have you been waiting for us long?” asked Yumei. Sometimes she felt sorry at her cool response to Longfe’s being overly nice to her.

“Not really. I just came five minutes ago and found the light in your room was off. So I decided to wait for a while. And here you are.”

Baiyun unlocked and pushed open the shaky and squeaky wooden door.

“Wow, the ladies’ dorm is even dirtier than the men’s!” Longfe shouted and covered his nose with one hand.

“Stop complaining! If you don’t like it, you can help clean it up,” said Yumei.

“What, what do you expect me to do? I’m not your husband.” Longfe retorted.

“You sound like a mom,” Baiyun joined in.

“Ha... Welcome back!” Longfe shook Baiyun’s hands.

“I hope I’m not in your way,” said Baiyun.

“Not at all. Actually I’m going to tell you both,” he lowered his voice, “Have you heard about the march tomorrow?”

“No, we wanted to ask you,” said Yumei, moving closer to him.

“Tomorrow morning at seven, we are going to meet at the ‘triangle’.”

“What do we need to bring?” Yumei was getting excited.

“Bring some food and water. You should be prepared to spend the day in Tiananmen Square.”

“Really? That sounds like fun.” Yumei opened her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open.

“Don’t just think of having fun. I have something dangerous for you to do.” Longfe took out a bundle of pink and yellow paper from his pocket. “These are the pamphlets you can distribute among the crowd. Try to avoid letting others see while you are doing it, because it could be considered a counter-revolutionary act.”

Baiyun picked one, spread it out, and read, “Those…”

Longfe touched his index finger on his lips.

Baiyun kept reading in a quieter voice. “Those who should die still live; those who should live have died.”

Chapter 2

Meanwhile, one kilometer from the Tiananmen Square, life in this Hudong in downtown Beijing was going as usual in this unusually hot and humid spring.

“Where have you been? Every day you come back so late. Have you lost your mind,” said Dagong’s wife Zhang Ping. She was a small, bony woman with protruding front-teeth. Her long pale face stretched longitudinally like a squash when angry. She stood up and pulled a shirt off the sewing machine. “See I’m working hard at home, making a shirt for you. You were out playing.”

Dagong sat on the bed and sighed. His white tank top was sweat-pasted to his back. The heat was already intolerable at the beginning of May. He peeled off his blue jeans and put on a pair of shorts. “There is a revolution going on. Don’t you know? Don’t you care?”

“Of course, I care! I care whether we are going to have food on the table. I care whether our clothes will be washed. I care whether our cat gets fed. What revolution? Haven’t you had enough? If not for the ‘Cultural Revolution’, you wouldn’t have to prepare for the graduate school exam right now. You’re thirty eight. You’d better go and get a real graduate degree or go to America. So you can get a decent paying job. The phony college degree you got during the ‘Cultural Revolution’ is worthless.”

“Shut up. I need quiet to study.” He walked out and sat on the cement steps leading to the corridor by his door.

Breezes were always welcome in early summer. They came at the right time when he was hot and sweaty. This was Aunt Rose’ house, a six-room one-story house that formed a closed rectangular, with a yard in the center and rooms on all sides--- “Four Corners Court Yard” or “Hudong”, a typical housing construction in downtown Beijing. Of course, it was old now. The red-tiled roof had turned dark grey: the golden paint that used to cover the walls was long gone, and in some places, even bare bricks were exposed. The paper windows with crisscross wooden frames, which used to be painted with flowers, lanterns and ancient beauties, were now covered with black and white newspapers, even blankets to keep out the cold wind in the winter. The wooden railing around the yard was fragile, too weak to lean on. Children were taught not to touch it. This had been a fancy house, but Dagong did not get a chance to enjoy it; he was born two years too late. In 1949, two years before he was born, the Communists took over Beijing and took this property from Aunt Rose. They mercifully left one room for her and Dagong and invited five more workers families in to enjoy the luxury. Dagong grew up with the idea that he, a son of capitalist’s running dog, was lucky just to have a place to stay. He was also lucky that when Aunt Rose died twenty-one years ago, they allowed him to stay in the house.

It was ironic that he had wasted one-third of his life during the Cultural Revolution --- five years of hard labor in the countryside, two years as a factory assembly worker and four years as a college student. He was, in turn, a worker’s, peasant’s and soldier’s representative to reform the universities. All these hadn’t done him any good so he became politically active again. He worked as an electrician in the same factory where he had worked after he got out of the phony college. But working conditions hadn’t improved very much. In 1977, when the government decided to resume the college entrance exam to enroll college students directly from the high schools instead from the countryside, factories and army according to one’s political performance, nobody took his college degree seriously anymore. It was phony. Everyone knew that. Back to the factory, he had a few years of easy time, playing cards and gossiping to kill time. The factory was over-staffed. They always could make up the quota just before the end of the year. But things had changed recently. Factories began to compete with each other. Workers had to work hard to get bonuses and the factory had hired some recent college graduates to do the managerial jobs. He felt insignificant and caught in between, where he could not move up and did not want to slide down. His brain was rusty and needed to be lubricated. But it was not easy; he hadn’t touched books for almost twenty years. He promised Zhang Ping he would prepare for the graduate school entrance exam (GRE) and the TOEFL exam to study in America, but it seemed as remote as the North Pole. Was going to graduate school the only way to get ahead? He remembered what Aunt Rose had told him before she died.

She was lying on the bed, with her eyes closed. Lung cancer had taken away every bit of her flesh. “Do you remember your father?” she asked between constant coughs.

“Yes, he loved me, he loved me very much.” Dagong said rather mechanically. He had never seen the man. How did he know?

“That’s what I have been telling you? Okay, you know, there is something else I have to tell you. Before your father died, he said, ‘Let Dagong be a businessman in the future.’”

“Yes.” He thought what a joke. I have suffered enough because he owned that damn shipping business. Now I’m about to go to the countryside to suffer more.

“It may not make any sense to you. But that’s what I have to tell you.”

Aunt Rose died a few days later. Dagong had never dreamed of being a businessman until recently. It might be possible if the government loosened up a little. He had already resumed his connections with some of his relatives in Hong Kong and was waiting for the government to change their policies.

At 9:00pm the yard was not totally quiet yet. As summer approached, people tended to go to bed late. Hot weather was always a bother. You had to take a bath more often; you had to wash clothes more frequently and you had to drink more water. You had to do all this in a situation in which no private baths, washing machines or fresh drinking water were available. Getting water required a lot of energy.

Dagong’s neighbor, Pumpkin, who lived two doors from Dagong, was one of those summer victims. She was sitting in the yard in front of a wash basin, scrapping and rubbing the clothes on a wash board. Sweat appeared on her face as a fine layer of mist. She had short, tousled, permed hair and a round face with fat cheeks. Her lips were thick and protruded, and her two big eyes under thick eyebrows looked fierce.

“Where have you been, Broomstick and Potatofeet? Your pants are full of mud. Next time I should let you wash them yourself, so your know how to keep them clean.” Pumpkin cursed her sons, who sat in the yard, playing cards with their father. She pulled a pair of blue cotton pants out of the muddy soapy water, found the pockets and turned them inside out. She got a handful of toilet paper, clay and stones. “Dirty boys.” She grimaced.

Pumpkin’s husband, Marshmallow, and their sons, Broomstick and Potatofeet, were playing cards under a dim light in the yard. They played “Catch the black seven” and ignored Pumpkin’s complaint.

“Catch black seven” was an easy card game. The person who happened to have the Ace of Spades was supposed to keep silent as long as he could. The person who did not have it should release it from his opponents as soon as possible. The person who had it at the end would win the game.

“Father, don’t protect him. I know Potatofeet has it.” Broomstick always tried to take advantage of his brother.

Potatofeet had been a good-looking kid before he contracted polio when he was five. Permanently crippled, he had a stammer as well. His feet were shaped like two potatoes. His heels and toes could never touch the ground at the same time. He bounced instead of walking, with his toes usually turned inward. His knees were so weak that they seemed not to exist. He smiled most of the time. The constant dripping of saliva from his mouth made him look silly. “I am, am not.., going to... to tell you.”

“I know either you or Father has it. Hey, Father, if you try to protect him, that’s against the law. We are supposed to play fair.” Broomstick was a handsome boy. His tall slender body resembled a telephone pole.

“Hey, son. Let me tell you, you’re not very smart. You know from all the talking you did, how much shit you have given me?”

It was interesting to see Broomstick and Potatofeet were such slender boys, especially Broomstick when he stood up, while their parents were not slender people. Actually you could call them fat. As a sturdy man, Marshmallow had a bulging chest and a pockmarked face. His nose was small and pointy, his eyes round and benevolent. He was timid while his wife was loud. Marshmallow and Pumpkin both worked in a government-owned restaurant as cooks, which was why they were fat. They not only ate as much as they wanted to, but also they absorbed fat through their skins. But they could not afford to buy good food for their kids with their small salaries.

Sitting in the yard a few steps from the card table were the girls, Little Pea, Broomstick’s older sister and Lili, the daughter of a policeman. They both graduated from the same high school. Little Pea worked in a grocery store downtown while Lili waited at home for a government job.

“Have you been in the Square?” Lili asked Little Pea.

“No.”

“Too many people, most of whom are college students. They look so young. They are from all over the country, which I can tell because they speak funny dialects and look different. Some of them have silly crew cuts and wear hand-made clothes. They all wear glasses,” said Lili while looking at her finger nails.

Little Pea sat quietly, working hard on her knitting. She was making a thick black sweater.

“How is your boyfriend?” Lili asked.

“He is fine,” Little Pea kept knitting.

“I hear that you’re going to get married.”

“Maybe soon,” Little Pea kept knitting as though they were talking about an upcoming dinner party.

“Are you ready for it?”

“I guess.”

“It must be hard to prepare.”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to move into his parents’ home since mine doesn’t have any room for us. So we don’t have to buy any furniture.”

“Woo, I can’t believe your parents can live without you.”

“They can. My parents know how to cook,” Little Pea finally raised her voice and showed some emotion.

“But I have never seen them cook at home.”

“They will have to. Otherwise my brothers have to cook themselves.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Next spring, when he saves enough money to buy himself a suit and have a tailor make a nice dress for me.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“I think so, too.” Little Pea’s voice tapered down and her small yellowish face cracked a smile. But she soon resumed her sober expression. She wanted to keep her long-awaited happiness to herself. She was too shy to reveal it.

“Oh, it’s already ten o’clock. I’d better go home. Otherwise my mother will complain again.” Lili stood up and pushed back her long hair, which hung to her buttocks, and left.

The water facet was dripping in the middle of the yard creating the splashing sound. A gust of wind blew through the yard. The weather was very pleasant at night. The heat soaked up the old laundry water and the dishwashing water on the ground. It smelled human.

At the same time, the policeman Lao Liu and Dagong were chatting. Dagong sat on the cement steps leading to the corridor by his door, and Lao Liu squatted next to him, smoking. Lao Liu was a slender man. He wore a white T-shirt and a pair of police navy-blue polyester pants. A pair of black frame glasses sat on his pale high cheek-boned face.

“I have spotted you in Tiananmen Square today.” Lao Liu said.

“You were there too?” Dagong did not worry about Lao Liu because he was harmless. But Lao Liu’s simple presence at the Square made him alert. Why did he need to go if there was no trouble? “What were you doing there?”

“We dressed up in civilian clothes and walked around.”

“Do you have any dangerous news for the students?”

“Not really. We are not ordered to do anything yet. I have the feeling it’s up to...” He pointed his cigarette to the sky. He smoked continuously. His eyes were half open and he rested his chin on his knees. He looked comfortable enough to fall asleep. “The top is fighting. The two sides couldn’t agree with each other.” He paused. “The situation is shaky.”

“Obviously, the security has tightened up,” said Dagong.

“That is true.” Lao Liu suddenly looked around and leaned toward Dagong. “They have just installed a new video surveillance system around the square.”

Dagong nodded. They both sank into silence.

Lao Liu had a clear mind. During his more than twenty years in the security profession, he had been through many ups and downs. The anti-rightist movement and the Cultural Revolution were labeled political movements. Actually, they were people-against-people movements. He had seen many honest people get hurt. They were sent to jail or labor camps for crimes they had not committed. He tried to do his best to protect these people, but sometimes he just had to close his eyes to let things go by. He had a wife, a daughter and a family to support. He was not in a position to make a real difference anyway. He still remembered vividly a case he was assigned twelve years ago.

The case was an extra-marital love affair involving a middle aged woman and the head of Beijing Automobile Parts Factory. They were both married. The woman, whose name he remembered as Meiling, the wife of a college professor, was notorious in the western district as a playgirl. The head of the factory was a political enemy of the judge. The case had obvious political motives. The judge, a fat woman with dark wicked eyes wanted to use it against the head of the factory. In order to do so, they had to make Meiling to confess to the relationship. But Meiling denied the charge. The judge was enraged. She gave Meiling a five year jail sentence with no appeals.

On the day of the announcement, he still remembered Meiling’s daughter, a ten year old girl and her father, an old intellectual. They were not allowed to be present in the court room. They waited outside until the verdict was announced. The girl cried and her father lowered his head. He was too ashamed to react.

Lao Liu, then a young investigator, tried to persuade the girl. “Stop, stop crying. Your mother is a bad woman. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t believe Mother is a bad woman. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it.”

“Let’s go. You’re going to cause me trouble.”

Her father tried to pull the girl out of there and said to Lao Liu and the judge, “Judge, we obey your order, we... ob...ey your or...der. She de... serves it.”

The girl kept turning her head back, staring as she walked away. Lao Liu remembered the girl’s red, earnest eyes. She was looking for some kind of message, sympathy maybe. He tried his best to communicate his compassion to her with his eyes. He wanted to tell her that her mother was innocent, and her mother was a brave woman.

After that case, Lao Liu saw a lot worse. He dreamed he might be able to change the situation. Then he found out that the judge was one knot in a huge power net. They abused power together and they abused the law together. Then he started to close his eyes, letting things go by. He had never become a part of the power net. He managed to stay out. Now he just wanted to paddle through his old age peacefully.

Now the students stirred things up again. Lao Yu did not believe they would make any difference. China was too old and too big. If anything did happen, it would have to come from the top. Through reading the newspaper, he knew the whole world was changing. Maybe the breeze of democracy and freedom would finally sweep through old China.

Lao Liu looked at Dagong who was staring into the darkness. He had been surprised to see Dagong in the Square, among the students, listening to their debate. He would be surprised to see Dagong simply ride through the square given the present situation. He could not believe he was the same Dagong he used to know. In his mind, Dagong had been dead for the last twenty years. Waves of political movements had whipped Dagong into a tame animal, tamer than a sheep. He never argued with anyone in the yard, didn’t even speak loudly to anyone. Dagong, the quiet, self-absorbed person he used to know, was now becoming an activist. God must be insane.

“Hey, do you know what time it is?” Dagong’s wife, Zhang Ping, came out of the door. “Every night, you sit here, smoking. What are you thinking of? You’d better come back and study!”

Dagong stood up, sighed and trudged to the kitchen. He found some hot water in the kettle on the stove. He poured it into a washbasin, mixed it with some cold water from the water tap in the yard and washed his face. He rinsed his feet and slippers with the leftover brown soapy water, and then returned to his room.

They had one room with a narrow storage room in the back. It had a double wooden bed, a desk and several suitcases stacked together. Rings of yellow stains covered walls with no wallpaper. A fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling bathed the small room. As usual, when he came home, there was chaos.

“Let your father see what you have done in kindergarten!” Zhang Ping stood behind the door, red-faced, pointing her finger toward their five-year old son, Little Turnip. He stared at the floor. An adult size T-shirt draped down on his shoulders like a nightgown. He held a small electronic toy in his shaking hands.

“He took the kindergarten’s toy without telling his teacher.” Zhang Ping said.

“You told me to do it,” mumbled Little Turnip.

“I didn’t tell you to do it in front of your teacher. Your teacher stopped by here earlier and asked me to tighten up the rules at home. I was so embarrassed. How can I hold my head up in front of other people?” She turned to Dagong, “You’d better study hard, and pass the test so we can go to America. Then we can afford to buy fancy toys like that ourselves.”

Dagong did not react. He felt hundreds of bugs creeping along his back. He was hot. He was tired of Zhang Ping’s usual complaints about money. He wanted to throw them both out of the house. But what could he do? Who let him stay in this house? Who had assigned him his current job? And who had provided him with his wife? He should thank Zhang Ping’s father for these. He did not have many choices. He was lucky enough to have it at all. Of course, he was concerned about his son. Little Turnip should get a good education and become a decent person. Even this was beyond his control. Zhang Ping was too possessive of their son. She was too possessive about everything.

He lifted Little Turnip up and held him to his chest, so he could talk to him face to face. “Little Turnip, did you hear what your mother said. Don’t do that anymore, Okay? Never bring a school toy home without asking your teacher.”

“Yes.” Little Turnip nodded. Tears ran down his face.

Then Dagong turned toward Zhang Ping. “Zhang Ping, I think you and Little Turnip had better go to bed. If you keep yelling, you might wake up the whole neighborhood.”

Zhang Ping suddenly became very docile. She took over Little Turnip. “Okay, Okay. We’ll go to bed. So you can study.”

In a while the fluorescent light was turned off. Zhang Ping and Little Turnip fell asleep on the double bed. He was left in the corner, sitting in front of a wooden desk with a dim table lamp.

He opened the book---Preparing for the TOEFL Exam, which was the requirement for getting into any American universities. He glanced through a few lines and marked down the new words he did not know. Then he looked up the new words in the dictionary one by one and scribbled them down on a notebook almost as thick as the dictionary. At thirty-eight, he could feel his age. Recently, he even found it hard to sit still. He was too agitated. A volcano was growing in his chest, getting ready to erupt. This was not like him, not him at all. Twenty-one years ago, when his aunt had died and left him alone in the world, he thought he would never smile again. During the five years of “reeducation” in the countryside, he worked hard. He wanted the sweat to wash away his sorrow, and soil to bury his grief. He did such a good job that a miracle happened. He was assigned to a job in the city and worked as a janitor in a park. That was when Zhang Ping’s father Lao Zhang discovered him and transferred him to the Beijing Radio Parts factory when Lao Zhang was the president. Lao Zhang liked Dagong. They liked each other. Lao Zhang liked him so much that he constantly acted as his protector. Whenever a political movement waged in when the capitalist’s son got bashed, Lao Zhang would stand up to defend him. Then he followed Lao Zhang’s suggestion and married his only daughter, Zhang Ping, who worked at the factory’s food service.

He never liked Zhang Ping. She was not his choice. She was the choice when he had not had any choice. No young woman at the time would want to marry someone like him with a dead capitalist father and several relatives overseas. He married Zhang Ping out of gratitude to Lao Zhang. He married her out of desperation. When Lao Zhang sent him to the university during the Cultural Revolution in 1972, he was excited for a while. As a straight-A student in high school, he had always dreamed of going to the university. But life had turned out differently than he expected. He had been deprived of the opportunity to go to the university because of his dead parents. His parents had been dead for a long time, as long as he was in this world. But they were his parents. The university he attended turned out to be phony. During those years, the communist leaders did not appreciate intellectuals. They like to install social changes. Political movements were their games. They reformed the college, changed the curriculum, and educated professors with Chairman Mao’s writing to make them humble. He had wasted his college years in going to political discussion groups, self-criticizing meetings and writing political-correct poetry and posters. Although he also learned some high school algebra and contemporary Chinese history on the side, he knew that was not enough. During those days he was extremely cautious, knowing if he did anything out of the ordinary, even anything noticeable, he would immediately become a target for people to spit on, to shit on because he was a capitalist’s son. He worked to stay invisible, which was hard because of his big size, and to sail through four years safely.

Their marriage was a peaceful comradeship. But he did not love her. Without him having even a desire to kiss her, they somehow had a son that ended everything. Zhang Ping did not like sex. A son was what she wanted. For a while he was content with his life. He let day go one by one and prayed for peace and stability. He thought he was really lucky. He had a job in a big city like Beijing, and so was envied by the nine hundred and ninety nine million people in the other parts of the country. He had a wife and a son and lived in the center of Beijing, one kilometer from the Tiananmen Square. What else would he want?

The book became blurry in front of him. The dark lines on the white paper turned into many beautiful faces, long straight hair, permed hair, big bright eyes and joyful smiles. He loved those college girls. The sky suddenly turned colorful, not dull grey color anymore. He felt energetic. He wanted to join the students to disperse his energy. Life is going to be interesting, he said to himself. Then he got up and joined Zhang Ping and little Turnip in their bed.

Chapter 3

Several hundred people assembled in front of the men’s dormitory, #41, near one of the campus gates. The red Beijing University flag was billowing in the wind. Some windows of the dorms were open and newly getting up students yelled, “Wait for me. I will be down in a second.” Some came down with a piece of bread in their hands.

When Baiyun, Yumei and Li Yan, another roommate, arrived at 7:00am, each girl had a different feeling about being there. Baiyun, who wore blue pants and a faded jacket, hoped her appearance would attract no attention. Yumei’s bright orange sweater indicated she wanted to be noticed immediately. As a stout girl with two bushy pigtails, Li Yan’s approach to life was more realistic. She loved sports and politics so she was just happy to be a part of it.

Their decision to skip class on Monday was a big one. The liberal arts students organized the march. Since the girls were chemistry majors, Baiyun, Yumei and Li Yan could be the only people there from their class. Besides, most chemistry majors would not have a friend like Longfe, an economics major, to inform them about the march. Math class was important but easy to skip. Physical education wasn’t as important but much harder to skip because as soon as they lined up, the instructor would notice immediately who was missing. The physical education teacher was reasonable. Everyone loved to skip the Political Science class. No one listened during those lectures anyway. Everyone read either their math textbook or a novel right under the instructor’s nose, who swung his arms, and sprayed saliva through spaces between his teeth, trying to politically indoctrinate his students.

The sky looked gray on this spring morning, for the sun hid behind thick layers of clouds and seemed far, far away. Occasional gusts of wind blew the dust into the air, a familiar scene in Beijing. Yumei, a girl from Shaanxi, an ancient capital and a province southeast of Beijing, began to sing loudly, even though they hardly knew anyone around.

“Beijing, our great capital,

Beijing, a beautiful city.

But in the spring,

Ladies cover their faces with gray scarves.”

Li Yan was a news addict, and kept informed on everything through her radio. She was carrying a Walkman right now. “It might rain today. I heard from the broadcast.” Li Yan informed them.

“Come on, I never believe the weather forecast. They are rarely correct,” said Yumei, absent-mindedly.

“But it rained yesterday,” said Baiyun, pushing her glasses up a bit on her straight nose.

“Maybe God is weeping for Hu Yaobang’s death,” said Yumei, looking around to see if anyone had noticed her.

“Have you heard anything interesting on the BBC?” asked Baiyun. She knew Li Yan listened to the BBC short wave broadcasts every day.

“Yes, all kinds of strange predictions about China’s future. Some say Hu Yaobang’s death is a sign that the conservatives will come back. Some say his death could stir up a full-scale student movement, which would begin to turn China into a more democratic society.”

Longfe approached the girls. “Hi, Yumei! It’s nice that you are here already.” He wore a tan blazer and a pair of blue jeans. His big eyes were beaming behind his square-rimmed glasses.

Baiyun felt ignored after Li Yan left to join students from other departments. She found Longfe very attractive. She liked his big tall body, the deep set of his eyes and his smooth round face. But every time he was around, she was too nervous to open her mouth. She felt embarrassed just standing there, and an idea dawned on her.

“Yumei, I’.. .m going back to pick up our raincoats or an umbrella for us.” Baiyun interrupted Yumei and Longfe’s conversation. Longfe stared at her and frowned. Baiyun turned and ran away.

On her way out, she saw Li Yan along with Xia Nan, a communist party member and the head of the student association in the economic department, talking to a group of students with a megaphone.

Baiyun quickly got back to the dorm, and after looking through the suitcases, drawers, and under the beds, could not find any raincoats or umbrellas. Then suddenly she realized that she had left hers at home and Yumei had probably had lost hers as usual. She decided to go to the campus grocery store to buy an umbrella. If she was late, she could always ride her bicycle to catch up with everyone. In any case, she wanted to be truly part of the march this time instead of being just a bystander as she had been on previous occasions. She was famous for always missing exciting events by staying in the library and studying. As she walked toward the store, she heard a voice accompanied by the noise of a motorcycle behind her.

“Baiyun, what’s the rush? Let me give you a ride.”

Lao Zheng, fully equipped with a helmet, leather jacket and goggles, had stopped his motorcycle behind Baiyun. He had a big grin on his face. Yuck, what is he doing here? Baiyun asked herself. She quickly composed herself and faked a smile. “You’ve come to the wrong place to find Mother.”

“Well,” he set his left foot on the ground. “Are you going to Tiananmen Square? I can give you a ride. . It’s such a long way to walk.”

“How did you know about the march?”

“I saw a group of students marching out of the gate when I came in. I asked them where they were going.”

“Have they already gone?” Baiyun felt bad. What would her friends think of her if she wasn’t there? They would think she had missed another important event again. Baiyun could just imagine how the others would talk about her: “How clever, that Baiyun. Going back to get an umbrella is just her excuse. Do you remember how she got out of the march last time? She stayed in the library overnight and came out once everyone was gone.”

“Ha... You really need a ride now?” Lao Zheng smiled like a victor.

“Would you?”

“Let’s go”

Baiyun jumped onto the back seat of the motorcycle. Although she hated the cigarette smell on his jacket, she had to hold on to it tightly and bury her head in it, because she did not want others on campus to see her riding on a motorcycle with such a man.

The streets were full of busy people going to work on bicycles, buses or occasionally on motorcycles. The ringing of bicycle bells and honking of bus horns awakened the city like a rooster’s crowing at dawn. At every street corner, there was a little yellow cylindrical station painted with red stripes. Policemen wearing white summer uniforms and sunglasses, either sat in the station looking out, or stood in the center of the intersection of two streets, directing the busy traffic with a little blue and white stick. Sometimes a policeman would stop an unfortunate bicyclist because he was carrying his son or both his son and his wife on the bike fender seat. They usually got a warning from the policeman and were told to walk to the bus station to let the wife and son take the bus. But as soon as they were out of the policeman’s sight, they would get back on the bike and fly. Violating traffic laws was not considered a crime in China.

Lao Zheng and Baiyun found the marchers stopped in front of a big farmer’s market, two kilometers from the campus.

“Hey, Baiyun, we caught up with them in no time at all. Let’s ride along with them. What do you think?”

“Would you let me get off? Would you let me get off?” She pointed toward the market. “So I can buy an umbrella and find my roommate.”

“Don’t you want to march with me? We have a motorcycle, the modern transportation.” Lao Zheng stood by his motorcycle proudly. With his sunglasses and shining new leather jacket, he almost looked like a movie star.

Baiyun, however, was not impressed. “Please let me off!” She screamed.

“Actually your mother asked me to come here and pick you up. She worries about you,” Lao Zheng’s tone changed.

“I don’t believe you. Mother never bothers me at school. She trusts me.”

“Ok, I came here to find you myself. I think you’d enjoy going out with me. We’ll spend some money and have a good time. This demonstration is boring. What do you think?” Lao Zheng put on his charming mask again.

Baiyun jumped off the slowly moving motorcycle and ran to the other side of the street where the students were, trying to hold back her tears.

“Baiyun! Baiyun!” shouted Lao Zheng, dumbfounded.

“Baiyun, why are you so late?” Baiyun could hear someone in the crowd yelled at her.

As Baiyun was crossing the street, she saw that Yumei, Longfe, Li Yan and the other students were staring at her. She blushed. How shameful! She said to herself. But to the others, she was speechless. There was a lump in her throat.

“How do you know someone who owns a motorcycle? How exciting!” said Yumei. Then she took Baiyun’s hands and smiled charmingly, which cheered up Baiyun a little.

“According to the BBC, motorcycles are the practical modern transportation for the future in China. I’m proud of you, Baiyun. You’ll be a pioneer motorcycle rider on campus,” said Li Yan.

“I didn’t know there is another side of you, Baiyun. Your hidden side is really exciting,” said Longfe, looking impressed.

Yumei hit Longfe on the shoulder. “Stop!” Then she took Baiyun to the side.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I feel awful.” Tears streamed down Baiyun’s face.

“So, that’s your mother’s boyfriend? What does he want?”

“He wants me to spend the day with him.” Baiyun stared down on the ground as though this was the most embarrassing moment in her life.

“Oh, my God. He’s really interested in you,” said Yumei, half teasingly.

“Yes, is that awful?”

“I don’t know. If you don’t like him, yes.”

“I’m not going to go back home anymore.”

“Ok, stick with us.”

“Sure,” said Baiyun. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day.

The wheat field around the Qinhua University, a top engineering school in Beijing, and about 3 kilometers from Beijing University, soon appeared. Behind the field was a huge broad gray concrete building -- the main building of the University. In front of it, there was a statue of Chairman Mao, his body erecting, his right hand waving as though he was inspecting the sea of worshippers. Now a voice from a loudspeaker reached them.

“Students of Beida (Beijing University), the Qinhua students are not participating in your march. Go back to your school and to class. Do not create chaos on our campus.”

The gate of Qinhua University was locked and a truck equipped with a loudspeaker followed them from gate to gate, repeating the message.

The heavens gave them an additional warning. Thunder clapped. Lightning almost broke the sky in half and waves of dark clouds rolled toward them like a flock of sheep running madly. The gusty winds blew dust into the air darkening the sky even more. Baiyun covered her face with her hands to prevent dust from getting into her eyes. Yumei ran toward Longfe to seek refuge behind his thin and tall body. Then the rain started pouring down from the sky.

There was a voice in the crowd. “If the Qinhua University student can’t go, we’ll go ourselves!” Baiyun saw a figure wearing a green Mao jacket and a green hat tightly to his skull. He was a prominent person on campus, a graduate student in political science and a veteran activist. Tears began to swell up in Baiyun’s eyes. She suddenly felt as if she was becoming a part of a powerful force.

By the time they reached the University of Political Science and Law, the rain stopped and the sun peeked out again. The students there applauded, cheered through their dorm windows, and banged on their tin plates and washbasins. They invited students from Beida to their auditorium for bread and hot water.

“We are really a group of crazy people,” said Yumei as she sat down on the concrete floor in the crowded auditorium with Baiyun, Longfe and Li Yan. “Look at my shoes, my pants. They are all soaking wet.” She moved her feet inside her wet athletic shoes, which were half full of water, generating a squeaky sound. Everyone laughed.

“Yumei, you should dance in these shoes,” suggested Li Yan.

So Yumei stood up and started dancing. She bounced around, snapping her fingers. Her freckled face was radiant; her long wet stringy hair swayed back and forth.

“Longfe, join me!”

“No, I don’t dare dance without music.” He held his knees against his chest, watching her.

“We can create our own music,” said Yumei.

“Okay. How about we sing, you dance?”

Baiyun hummed along with others. A feeling swelled up in her chest, almost suffocating her. She wanted to join Yumei in the dance. But no matter how hard the desire filled in her chest, she could not move her legs. Her face was red, and she could feel hot steam coming up from her wet clothes.

A tall handsome young man from the Philosophy Department joined Yumei. They danced a waltz. Students surrounded them, some dancing, some humming the song.

“What a wonderful way to dry out,” someone commented.

The sun had come out of the thick layer of clouds as they left the auditorium and started marching again. The air was fresh and damp. It was noon. The streets were busy again. People came out for lunch, to go home for a nap or to start a second work-shift.

The march was going at a normal pace. People on the street started cheering them.

“Hey, Beida!”

“Hey, that’s great!”

“Keep going, we support you.”

Baiyun was surprised to see so many people were brave enough to support them openly, especially when they approached the downtown area, where policemen were posted at every street corner. Since 1978 when the Cultural Revolution had come to the end, no one believed another political movement would come along because people had lost faith in the Communist party. They felt cheated by Chairman Mao. They turned from fully supporting the Communist party to simply disbelieving. Most people nowadays were interested in getting higher pay, larger bonuses and sending their children to the best universities. Even Baiyun’s romantic mother had started her own business. It was so strange that people could still be excited by a political demonstration.

“No more corruption!”

“Patriotism is no crime!”

“Long live the people!”

Baiyun chanted slogans along with others, lifting her right arm up and down. It reminded her of her primary and high school days when chanting slogans were a part of daily life. They had to do it every morning before class. “Long live Chairman Mao!” They chanted, “Down with the rich landlords!” and “Down with the capitalist’s running dog!” She even had to say, “Down with Yang Kaiming!” when her intellectual father, Yang Kaiming, was demonized on a stage along with other intellectuals. The demonized victims on the stage wore black pointy hats with their arms tied behind their backs and backs bending forward, which were called “Riding the airplane”. It all sounded so familiar, yet so foreign. A feeling of uneasiness bothered her. She wanted to stop.

“Don’t you think it’s awful that we have to chant slogans again?” Baiyun asked the self-absorbed Yumei.

“Why ?” Yumei seemed not to be bothered at all. She used all her strength, jumping and shouting in beautiful gestures as if she was dancing. She always did well in front of others.

“Yumei, don’t you think that we should distribute the pamphlets from Longfe?” Baiyun thought of an alternate way to contribute to the movement.

“Yes. How do you think we should do it?” asked Yumei.

“How about you climb a tree, pretending to observe the demonstration? Then you quickly tie the pamphlets to a branch.” Baiyun paused for Yumei’s reaction.

“And then……” said Yumei.

“And then you quickly come down the tree so I can shake it. The pamphlets will fly all over the square like the peace doves,” said Baiyun proudly.

“You really think this will work with me going up to the tree?” Yumei was a little skeptical.

“You are lighter. You know me. Since I’m so clumsy, I may fall off the tree and cause a big stir.”

“I think this sounds good in theory but I don’t think it will work in reality.”

“Ok. I got another idea. How about I pretend to be sick? So we can stay behind the demonstrators. The police only watch the students. They will not notice us if we stay behind. Then we can mingle with the civilians and spread the pamphlets. Don’t you think this will work?”

“Yes. I think this might work,” said Yumei.

Baiyun ran to the side of the road and began vomiting. She squatted and pressed against her belly, vestiges of the bread she ate earlier at University of Political Science and Law running out of her mouth.

“Baiyun, what’s wrong with you?” Yumei and Longfe came over.

Baiyun shook her head.

“Longfe, how about you keep going? Baiyun and I will find you later,” said Yumei. Then she pulled Longfe aside and whispered into his ears. Longfe nodded happily while walking away.

They stopped at the corner of Xidan market, about a half mile away from the center of the Tiananmen Square. The streets were crowded with demonstrators and shoppers.

Baiyun and Yumei went into the crowd and threw bundles of pamphlets as far as they could. With the help of the wind, the pink and yellow pamphlets flew up to the sky like the kites, landing on the demonstrators and the civilian crowd.

Baiyun and Yumei stood on the sidewalk, looking into the sky. They felt enormously proud and relieved. They hugged each other.

“I can’t believe that your plan worked,” said Yumei.

“You see I don’t just make up theories,” said Baiyun, feeling really smart.

By the time Baiyun and Yumei finally reached Tiananmen Square in front of the Monument of the People’s Hero, the sky had turned dark again. Lightening broke out on the top of the Monument, from which hung a huge portrait of Hu Yaobang. Illuminated by the lightening, his solemn face seemed to come alive.

Baiyun stared at the ten-story high Monument of the People’s Hero and realized something important. She was twenty-one years old and did not remember how many times she had been in front of the Monument. Every time she was here, no matter the circumstances, she felt the Monument was a symbol of people who had sacrificed their lives for something they had believed in. As depicted along the two-meter high marble reliefs, in the last hundred years several important uprisings had changed the course of Chinese history. The Wuchang Uprising, a key event leading up to the Revolution of 1911, inflicted a deadly blow to the feudal dynasty in Chinese history. She wished this democratic movement would eventually lay a corner stone to establish a democratic China. Along with the decline of the legacy of Chairman Mao and the Communist Party, Tiananmen Square and the Monument of the People’s Hero also became a less meaningful symbol in the mind of the people. Baiyun could not believe she was having her same old reaction to the Monument. Her blood rushed through her body and a sense of duty hit her. Yes, that was why she was here, to help her country to solve its problems.

Baiyun could hear her mother’s voice, “Don’t get involved too much. Think about yourself. It is very hard for China to get over its problems. Go to America, that’s the way to go. Don’t you understand me?” She knew what her mother was talking about. Nowadays all the smart people who had the connections had gone abroad, and very few had come back. She wanted to leave, because increasingly her mother’s lifestyle bothered her. She was afraid that one day the volcano in her house would erupt and it would be very hard for her to get out unscathed. But at this moment, all that had disappeared. She felt lucky to be here, to be involved in such an exciting event for a change.

“Baiyun, where is my raincoat?” said Yumei, taking her out of her reminiscence.

Both girls were soaked. They pulled at each other’s drenched clothes and laughed.

“Look, I can see your bra.” Baiyun pointed at Yumei.

“Woo, there are your tits. How embarrassing!”

“What are you laughing about?” Longfe suddenly appeared.

“Girl problems. It’s not your business!” said Yumei. Longfe laughed as he put his arm around Yumei and squeezed her, which caused water to drip down from her like a sponge.

“You’re soaked. How about wearing my raincoat?” He draped his long thick raincoat around Yumei’s shoulders and asked. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” said Yumei. She seemed comfortable under Longfe’s arms.

”You look wonderful. Your face is radiant and lips are red as though you have put on makeup,” said Longfe, looking at Yumei even more intensely.

“Ha... you know I don’t use makeup,” said Yumei proudly.

“Of course, you don’t need it.”

Baiyun decided to leave them alone. As she turned toward the crowd, several student leaders had gathered on the top steps of the Monument.

“Attention, please! Attention, please! Sit down, everyone,” said a young man, who wore army green uniform. He had long hair, a wide square face and a protruding jaw.

“That’s Wuer Kaixi. He is one of the student leaders.” Baiyun heard a student say.

Thunder rolled and dark clouds re-invaded the sky dumping another ocean of cold rain down onto the Square. But everyone sat on the cold and wet concrete without complaining. No one was holding an umbrella. Yumei was leaning against Longfe. Baiyun felt cold and lonely. The first speaker, Professor Chen Mingyuan, was about to speak. He was a noted professor and poet who had edited and published a famous collection of poetry from the 1976 Tiananmen Square movement.

“Today’s scene reminds me of 1976. It has also reminds many people in the crowd of those memorable, exciting days, of the bloodshed and our final victory!” His passionate and provocative voice drew in Baiyun completely. “I come here first as a citizen, then as your teacher, also as your friend, and finally as an old tired warrior in the struggle for democracy,” continued he, “I want to be the first of your professors to come here and say that I support you.” Deafening cheers and applause followed this speech.

Baiyun remembered the 1976 Tiananmen Movement. She had been here with her friends just after Primer Zhou had died. The square was packed with people. Hundreds of poems were posted on the Monument of the People’s Hero, and white flowers covered the evergreen shrubs around it like snowflakes. That demonstration brought down the “Gang of Four”, a power-corrupted group led by Mao Zedong’s widow, Jiang Qing, and started a new era in Chinese history. That had been her first taste of the power of the people.

“Baiyun.”

Baiyun was startled and looked back to see Longfe and Yumei standing behind her. Yumei was leaning against Longfe with her eyes closed. Her wet face was pale. Longfe was the one who had called her.

“Yes,” Baiyun said nervously.

“Yumei doesn’t feel very good. Do you know what we should do?” asked Longfe.

“She must be getting too cold and hungry. We have to get her out of here and find a warm place for her.” Baiyun’s heart went for Yumei. She wished she could carry her out of there immediately and tend her in bed.

“It’s impossible to get out of here.” Longfe said hopelessly.

“We have done enough. Those leaders should not let us suffer any further.” Li Yan sounded very logical.

Baiyun agreed but did not say anything more. Like being at a splendid party, she did not want the demonstration to end. Going home sounded like hell, and going back to school and sitting in the library forever seemed boring.

“Baiyun,” said Xia Nan, who was the head of the student association. He carried a video camera and a megaphone. “You girls have done a good job of keeping everyone in good spirits. Why don’t you say something?” He handed over the megaphone.

Naturally Baiyun thought of Yumei first, “Yumei should do that.”

“Baiyun, Yumei is in pain. Why don’t you do it? I think you can,” said Longfe.

Baiyun was glad that Longfe was so encouraging. In a fraction of a second, many thoughts swept through her head. She was pleased, of course, to be asked to stand up in front such a big audience to say something. On the other hand, she was also aware that there were most likely plainclothes policemen watching her, and she could jeopardize her chances of going abroad by speaking. She stared at her wet, out-of-shape leather shoes and could not make up her mind. She thought of her plan to study abroad, her mother’s advice, her father’s encouragement, and her eagerness to leave her family. She could feel many pairs of eyes staring at her, which generated enough heat to make her sweat. She hated these occasional moments in life when she had a hard time making up her mind.

She still remembered what her father told her when she informed him about her plan to take TOEFL.

“It always has been one of my dreams to go and study abroad.” He sounded rather clear-headed considering how much wine he just had drunk. “But my family was poor and could not afford to send me. I worked as a tutor during college in order to earn some money for me to travel to the place where the exams were held. But by the time I was ready, the opportunity was gone.” Baiyun could see his old eyes glistening.

“Baiyun, stand up and tell everyone that we have a student sick here. We need help.” Li Yan was the practical one.

“Baiyun, do it. Don’t be afraid.” Longfe stared at her with his passionate eyes. Baiyun liked it. How could she refuse Longfe’s request and how could she delay Yumei’s chance in getting help?

“Hi, everybody,” her first sentence was so quiet that no one could hear it.

“Louder, louder.” Li Yan coached her from below.

“The rain has finally stopped. I guess our tough spirit has defeated the bad weather,” she continued. Her jaw shivered, yet she was in a good spirits, “I’m glad that I have skipped classes to take part in this historical event, which was always what I wanted to do.” Everyone laughed. “I’m a Chemistry major.” Her voice was drowned in the loud cheering.

“Baiyun, you have never skipped one single class,” said Li Yan.

“Hey, Chemistry doesn’t just produce nerds!” shouted someone.

“The Police are coming! The Police are coming!” A voice in the distance stirred up the crowd. The sea of people started rippling, moving like waves.

Taking the microphone from Baiyun, Wuer Kaxi exhorted the crowd: “Don’t panic! We aren’t doing anything wrong! We have completely achieved our goal today,” waving his arms. “Being here itself is a victory! We came here in a very orderly way. Let’s leave peacefully the same way. I’d like to have the brigade of marshal come to me and we could use some volunteers, too. We’ll rent buses and send everyone home.” His pockmarked face was gleaming in the dusk.

“Longfe, Li Yan, would you come and help me?” Xia Nan jumped into the action immediately.

“Who is going to take care of Yumei?” Longfe was still holding Yumei to his chest.

“Let Baiyun take over.”

Longfe handed Yumei to Baiyun and shook her hands. “Baiyun, take care.”

“No problem.” Baiyun’s heart was dancing with joy because she and Yumei were left alone again. The newfound closeness she felt for Yumei brought her joy, even though she suspected that Yumei did not share the affection in the same way.

The situation was rather chaotic in the square. More people flowed in after dusk. They were citizens who had just come back from work. The square was dark, without official lights. Many of the curious people just wandered around, and then gathered in circles, and talked quietly, as they listened to the reciting of passionate poetry. There was no sign of a police crackdown. Because they walked slowly, Baiyun and Yumei soon fell behind the crowd. The rain had stopped, but the wind was chilly. They found a stone bench in front of Zhongshen Park, which was a little further down from the Forbidden City, and sat down.

“How are you, Yumei?” asked Baiyun.

“I can’t walk anymore,” moaned Yumei. Baiyun held Yumei tightly to keep her warm.

“Ok, maybe I can find someone with a bike to take you home.”

Yumei rested her head on Baiyun’s lap and drew her legs up on the bench. It looked like the cold wind had caused another cycle of devastating cramps. Baiyun could tell because Yumei’s moaning was getting louder. Her wet clothes became icy cold. Even Baiyun was shivering.

“Hi, girls. Do you need any help?” A tall middle aged man stopped his bike in front of them. He wore a pair of tight blue jeans, a white polyester shirt and a tan windbreaker. He sat erect on his very high bike seat. His eyes were deep and bright. His face was chiseled and sun-tanned. He had a head full of thick black hair. His long and straight nose made him look noble.

This nice man startled Baiyun. He was like a knight appearing in front of her. She blinked her eyes to make sure he was still there.

“Yes,” said Baiyun. “She is cold and exhausted. We need to take her home immediately. We are from Beida, a long way from home.”

The man swung his leg across the bike and got off. He sat next to Yumei and felt her head softly, “she has a fever.” Then he turned to Baiyun. “My name is Dagong. I work in the Beijing Electronics Parts Factory. I think we should try to take her to Fuwai Hospital Emergency Room, which is not too far from here. Would you help me move her onto the bike?”

They lifted Yumei up and let her hold on to both of their shoulders.

“Where are we going?” Yumei slowly opened her eyes.

“We are going to take you to the hospital.” Then Baiyun asked Dagong, “front seat or back?”

“Let’s put her in the front,” said Dagong matter of factly.

“Why not in the back?”

“Because you are going to sit in the back,” commanded Dagong.

“Me? I can take the bus. Don’t bother.” Baiyun’s heart leaped. Yes, of course, she wanted to go with them but she was also realistic.

“You don’t believe I can take both of you on my bike?” Dagong beamed at her and looked more attractive.

“I.. .do. But.. .it’s hard. A lot of traffic police are here, you know?”

“Trust me. I know the area.”

Baiyun did not respond. Staring at Tiananmen Square in the dark, people scurrying around, she suddenly felt tired.

“Come on. I can carry five or six people on a bike, no problem.” said Dagong firmly. He started to sound like a knight with magic power.

“Really?”

“Yes. I used to work for the Beijing Acrobatic Company,” boasted Dagong.

Dagong sat on the bike first. Baiyun jumped onto the rear fender seat which was a little too high for her. Dagong kicked the ground, and they were off.

“Hold on to me, if you have trouble staying on,” said Dagong. She wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Baiyun could feel heat radiating from his body. She knew he was riding hard. She gradually leaned closer until finally she was resting her head against his back.

“So, you are from Beida.”

“Yes. Have you heard of it?” Baiyun teased him. She couldn’t believe that she was in such a happy mood.

“Are you kidding? Of course, it’s the most famous university in the country. What do you study?”

“Chemistry.”

“I have a degree in physics.”

“You have been in college too?”

“Yes. That was ten years ago. You see, I’m very old.”

“No, I don’t think so.” So Dagong would be at least ten years old than she was, thought Baiyun. She could not believe her luck that she had run into such an attractive older man.

“What you are doing here in Tiananmen Square is great. Now I’m always looking forward to the evenings. I could just walk out of my alley, and see what’s going on. It has become a habit.”

“Do you live close by?” Baiyun realized it was very useful to know someone in the neighborhood if they were going to come here more often.

“Yes, I have no excuses for not getting involved. Although I’m just a technician, I support you students whole-heartily. I believe you are going to make a difference.”

“I hope so. I’m just a follower.”

“You are telling me I’m just helping two followers?”

“But that’s worthwhile,” said Baiyun.

“Yes. Why?”

“Don’t you think so?”

“I guess you are right, college student.”

“How is Yumei?” asked Baiyun. She just remembered that her friend Yumei who was still sitting on the front handlebar and she hadn’t heard from her for a while.

“She is sleeping, I think,” said Dagong while pedaling faster.

They rode through many small streets and alleys, and stayed away successfully from the traffic police. It was a pleasant journey for both Baiyun and Dagong. Dagong had never ridden a bike that ran so fast and smoothly. Baiyun had never found a place so comfortable and so like home.

Chapter 4

Baiyun was riding her bicycle home while still indulging in the sweet dream of the fun episode in Tiananmen Square last night. As the last ray of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon and sky turned gray, the reality hit her. Meiling called her dormitory this morning and the building manager woke her up from her dream. She told her that her mother was sick and wanted her to go home. How sick could her mother be? Wouldn’t she rather see her boyfriend Lao Zheng instead of her? She didn’t leave until she was done with her classes.

The weather was windy and gloomy. A few people walked on the street alone and swayed with the wind. Women covered their faces with thin transparent nylon scarves; men pulled down their hats' brims to hide their identities. They clutched their food baskets as though they might be snatched away at any moment. The loudspeakers on campus kept telling people not to go to Tiananmen Square in order to avoid dire consequences. Baiyun parked the bicycle outside and walked into the main entrance of the apartment building and then her own home on the first floor. Right away she noticed Meiling was lying in bed moaning in her bedroom with the door open for once.

“Mom, what can I do for you?” asked Baiyun.

“Nothing. I should… be better tomorrow. You should bring some food for your father. I don’t know what he is doing in the other room.”

Baiyun was not used to take care of Meiling because she rarely asked her for help. She would rather deal with her father. She was curious about what her father was doing because she smelled something funny.

It was a small odd-shaped hallway, with the kitchen and a room on the left and an entrance that led into two rooms on the right. The white wall in the hallway was cold and smooth like porcelain under the late afternoon sun. Dried-up bok choy, muddy turnips and tall spinach lay, looking tired, against the wall. In the middle of the hallway, to one side, stood a refrigerator and an old bamboo dish cabinet set on top of a wet looking wooden rack.

Baiyun walked in the family dining room/Father’s bedroom. Father sank down on a cushioned wooden chair trimming the end of a twig. A pot of sand sat next to the twig. In the dim light of a desk lamp, he examined the twig to make sure the cut was perfect. After several tries, he buried the end of the twig in the sand and set it next to a row of pots on the windowsill. With the help of the magnifying glass, he examined them one by one.

"Meow, meow!" He yowled and Baiyun took it as a sign of pleasure.

“Father,” said Baiyun, which startled Father.

“Oh. What are you doing here?” He looked at Baiyun with his old eyes and went right back to his trimming task.

After taking care of the plants, Father returned to his desk. He began scribbling on scraps of paper. Once in a while he would crumple the paper and throw it into the wastebasket. Then he took a new piece and scribbled some more. Finally he held a sheet of paper in front of his nose and laughed loudly.

"One and a half rats per flower pot, my honored citizens. That's right. Ha, ha..."

He spun around on his chair and picked up a white plastic pail from underneath the desk, which was full of dead rats. He took out the rats one by one and laid them on the dirt in flowerpots. Returning to his desk, he began cutting the rest of rats in half with a huge pair of rusty scissors, one after another. Blood spilled on the floor, and sprayed onto his clothes and face.

"Meow, meow!" He seemed to enjoy the taste of blood in his mouth.

Watching this, Baiyun couldn’t stand it anymore. She ran out of the room and thought about leaving this disgusting place. Then she remembered her duty to bring food to father. She opened the refrigerator and found some cold stir-fry. She heated it up on the gas stove in the small kitchen and walked back to the dining room with one hand on her nose.

Father was writing comments between the lines of a textbook using a magnifying glass. The book itself revealed why he had to use the magnifying glass. It was a textbook of advanced mathematics called, "Special Function" that had equations and words. However, a handwritten version also was superimposed on top of the print. In fact most of the printed version had been either crossed out or pasted over with handwritten text.

Baiyun left the food on his desk. Underneath the glass on the table, Baiyun noticed many new pictures of red and purple roses.

Father wolfed it in and continued his writing on the textbook. After a few minutes, his head nodded. His hand dropped with the weight of the magnifying glass. The pen stopped; blue ink soaked through the page and created a large stain on the page. In a minute, loud snoring sullied the silence. Under the dim lamplight, the flushing of his face made him look like a roasted animal.

Baiyun looked away and only to set her eyes on pots of roses in full bloom. Their color ranged from yellow to pink and from red to black. But most were bloody red like a girl's lipstick ready to be kissed.

Baiyun realized her parents were in no mood or shape to talk to her. Before she decided to leave, she heard a motorcycle approaching. She decided to sit at the middle room desk.

A tall man, wearing a shiny leather jacket, rushed into the apartment without knocking. The man, whom Baiyun recognized as Meiling's old boyfriend Lao Zheng nodded to Baiyun, winked at her, and then went straight to Meiling's bedroom after letting the curtain down. The curtain on Meiling’s bedroom door was like a woman's summer dress—just long enough to hide the mid-parts of the body.

"How much do we have now?" That was Meiling's voice.

"Oh, about twenty thousand," said Lao Zheng.

"No, I don't believe you. You must have put away some for yourself."

"Come on, woman. You can't be serious. Have I ever cheated you?"

"Stop!" It was the sound of Meiling slapping Lao Zheng. "Don't think you can lay me as soon as you get here. Get serious for a minute. If a civil war started, we wouldn't have anything left. We'd better find a way to save our hard earned money."

"Okay, but let's talk about that later."

"Oh! What do you want? What do you want? Ha, ha..." Meiling's hysterical laugh indicated she was no longer ill. The handsome tiger embroidered on the dark brown knitted curtain suddenly came alive. His widely open mouth and pointed teeth revealed his great hunger.

"Don't be too rough with me! I’m sick."

"Come on, I’m the cure for your illness."

Two pairs of feet in slippers appeared in the space beneath the curtain. One was big and strong with bulging veins under rough dark skin, the other tiny and elegant as marble. They moved closer, separated and rose up onto the bed. The door was closed shut.

The tiger on the curtain seemed to roar. The curtain was thick and impenetrable. Peering through the tiger's eyes, Baiyun could see Meiling's and her boyfriend's ecstatic faces that made her look away immediately. Just before she was about to leave the middle room, she saw her father went to the kitchen.

Father lit a burner, took a fire poker and laid it on the fire. When the tip was red hot, he picked it up and marched toward Meiling's bedroom. Without hesitation, he jabbed the fire poker directly through the curtain tiger's eye. A hissing sound told her Meiling's bedroom door was closed and Father had also burned a hole through the wood. Then he burned another and another. Finally he threw down the poker, jumped at the door and spied into Meiling's room through the holes he had made like a lizard crawling on a wall. He leaned against the door, making it squeak, then turned toward one side and slid down. Something was growing in the front of his pants. He put his hand in, rubbing and squeezing. His face was scarlet and twisted.

"Aaeh! Aaeh!" This time his moaning became harsher and more intense.

"What's going on?" The door cracked open. Meiling poked her head out. Their meeting in this situation scared Baiyun. Her heart came up in my throat. In order to distract them, she pointed to a bee on the bamboo cabinet, "Look, there's a bee!"

"What?" Father stared into the dark hallway with his two hollow eyes.

"Wow, what a beautiful bug!" Meiling leaned forward and took a close look at the bee as Father retreated. "Look at the pretty black and yellow strips, how beautiful." Meiling turned around her fulsome body, which was covered by an almost transparent nylon slip. She smiled with her perfect white teeth exposed and her big dark eyes full of charm.

"Yes, yes," suddenly chuckled Father humbly. His shy eyes were cast down, and dimples showed on both cheeks. He pulled his hands out of his pants and folded them obediently on top of his Buddha’s belly.

“What are you staring at? Why don’t you find a flyswatter and kill the bee?” Meiling commended.

"Kill it. No. I'm...I'm allergic to bees," mumbled Father. His tongue was always in the way when he talked to Meiling.

Then the bee flew away. "My god, if it messes up my flowers, I'll kill it." Father gathered his strength and started chasing it.

"Okay, let's catch it." Meiling shut her bedroom door behind her and followed father into his room. Baiyun found a flyswatter and joined them. Father, whom Baiyun had never seen run so fast, used all his energy and jumped in front of the flowerpots scattered around the far end of the dining room.

"Don't touch my flowers or I'll kill you!" He threatened arms akimbo like a warrior.

Meiling, meanwhile, scampered after me from one side of the room to the other. Baiyun followed her, waving the flyswatter.

"It's here, Baiyun! Here, oh, you missed it. A little toward the right. Here, here. Oh, shit!" Stroke by stroke, Baiyun's technique was getting better. Then all of sudden, the bee landed on the windowsill.

"Baiyun, stop waving the net." Baiyun knew Father would intervene.

"Father, I'll be careful. I promise, I promise."

"Baiyun, aren't you going to listen to me?" He stared at her with two fierce eyes. His hands were clenched.

"Oh, Baiyun. Let your father take care of it. He may have the magic hands." Meiling turned around to her bedroom.

Silence returned to the house again. The excitement the bee had generated disappeared. Baiyun and Father gazed at the windowsill, which was occupied mostly by small flowerpots. With one smack, Father killed the bee that was stupid enough to show up on the windowsill.

Silence this time came with the darkness. The place was as dark and cold as a grave. Father strolled back to his faded brown, old heavy wooden desk.

Baiyun slipped out the door without saying another word. She got on the bicycle and started riding in this pitch-dark sky that hardly had any stars. She could feel the darkness that gradually weights on her and her city Beijing and the whole country. Yet the fresh air had already cheered her up and the paddling of the bicycle made her feel powerful. I will never come back here again, she was telling herself.

Chapter 5

At 9:00pm, Baiyun got back to her dorm but was too excited to sleep. Meeting Dagong was a pleasant experience for her. Although she knew very little about him besides the fact that he was a nice and handsome young man, she felt that he had the depth to understand her, her eccentric mother and her strange family. She found him easy to talk to and she could open her heart. But she hadn’t known him very well yet, she was telling herself. Tomorrow she would go back to the triangle trying to find out more about the pro-democracy movement. She felt an obligation now. She had now found many more interesting things to do besides studying chemistry. It was like a new chapter in her suddenly opened up. She knew the situation would change as soon as she talked to her mother. Meiling would force her to study TOEFL again. But this was her life. Meiling could not control it anymore.

The sound of loud radio woke up Baiyun in the morning. From the content she soon realized that it was a new campus news broadcasting station.

“When the student marched to the Tiananmen Square last night, all along the road Beijing citizens came out to support them,” said the Broadcaster, “People gave out cases of soda, juice, bread and eggs. The square was full of people sitting in from the night. At dawn, police started to appear. The students demanded that the authorities guarantee their safety and let them enter the Great Hall of the People to pay their last respects to Hu Yaobang. The government only granted the first request.”

“Oh, my God. It’s so early. Demonstration is a good thing. But they shouldn’t disturb our rest.” Li Yan went back to sleep.

Too tired to say anything, Baiyun went back to sleep as well. When she woke up again, everyone had gone. She looked up her watch and it said 11am. She knew that she just missed a 10:00am mathematics class. Then she found a message on a piece of torn notebook paper.

“Baiyun,

I’m going to the class. I’ll lend you my notes. You’d better sleep. Hope to see you in the next class.

Yumei”

An egg-bread was on the table as well as a bowl of porridge. Yumei must have gotten them for her from the cafeteria in the morning.

She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth by the concrete sink in one of the two large washrooms on the fourth floor. She ate the breakfast, made her bed and walked out of the dormitory. She decided to attend the rest of classes just to be good.

At 4:30pm Baiyun rode slowly back toward her dormitory. When Baiyun passed by the Triangle, she ran into Li Yan who was rushing.

“Where are you going?” Baiyun asked as she balanced her bicycle between her legs.

“The News Center, the new campus radio station,” said Li Yan. “You should stop by sometimes between your studies and social life.”

“What social life are you talking about?” Baiyun sensed something new in her tone. Was she making fun of her for not having a social life?

“A worker named Dagong has been hanging around the campus and would like to meet up with you,” said Li Yan and waved goodbye without noticing Baiyun was a little embarrassed.

Dagong was here! What was he doing here? Baiyun thought as she pushed her bicycle in the slow traffic. She noticed some people on the street didn’t all look like students. Some men were older, more muscular and had swarthy faces. Older women also ran around the campus, carrying blankets and tin containers under their arms. The streets inside Beijing University were almost like any streets in downtown Beijing. What a change! The prodemocracy movement made Beijing University, normally an intellectual’s paradise, into a community theatre. She could see clusters of students and workers on street corners, talking to each other like a family. Whenever she went, everyone smiled at her friendly. Through this atmosphere, she could see changes that had happened in people’s hearts and souls.

As soon as Baiyun arrived at her dorm, she saw Dagong waiting for her by the door. He wore a pair of dark green sunglasses. His starched white shirt and khaki pants made him look like a professor instead of a technician.

“Baiyun.” He approached her enthusiastically.

“Hi Dagong. What bought you here?” Leaning her bike against her waist, she shook hands with him.

“I’m here for a meeting with the Beijing Student Federation. We are planning a rally on May 4th to commensurate the seventies anniversary of the May 4th student movement. We want to be part of it, too. Also I think I might see you here.”

“This is nice to see you.” Baiyun jumped, and the bicycle swung away from her and almost fell but was rescued by Dagong’s quick move.

Seeing Dagong made Baiyun felt much better. The horror she experienced at home had long gone.

“I’d like to show you the campus,” said Baiyun.

“I would like to take you for dinner,” said Dagong with a big smile.

“Let’s go. Do you want me to take you on my bicycle again? This time you can sit on the front handle bar and lean against my chest. I could hold you with one arm and hold on to the bicycle with the other,” said Dagong.

“So people would think we are…a pair of sweethearts? No, I don’t think so,” said Baiyun shyly with her eyes looking down and her cheeks red. But she soon recovered. She raised her head and said, “It is impossible to ride on campus now, especially near the Triangle. Have you been to the Triangle?”

“Not yet.”

“Let’s go then. Students always give speech there.” Baiyun felt uplifted.

They both parked their bicycles and locked them to the rack. They walked toward the Triangle.

By 5:00pm, the sun had gradually disappeared behind the trees and buildings. The air turned a little cooler. But the amount of activities on campus had not decreased at all. It would go on until midnight. Nothing normal was happening on campus anymore.

As they approached the Triangle, they could hear someone speaking.

“Our country has many problems that need reform. We have to start the change. Let’s begin by overthrowing the official student association and establishing one that really represents us.” Baiyun couldn’t recognize the person but she was eager to find out.

“Anyone who has the courage to get up, give his name, his major and what class he is in, is automatically a member of the Beida Solidarity Student Federation.” A different speaker announced toward the crowd. Several students started fighting his way toward the center of the crowd. They pushed and pulled with full strength. People’s cursing and yelling followed them. One of them jumped to the center.

“My name is Li Ming and people call me Big Li. I am a junior in the Chemistry Department. I support the movement wholeheartedly,” he said proudly. People cheered for him.

“I can’t believe this nerd has stood out,” said Baiyun to Dagong.

“All kinds of people show up unexpectedly, even the dead man like me could come back to life,” said Dagong.

Baiyun stared at him and then punched him lightly on the belly, “you are funny.”

“I’m not entirely joking. I will tell you later. Let’s see what they have to say.”

“Comrade, it is so nice to have you.” A medium sized young man came over and shook hands with Big Li.

Longfe stood up and started speaking. Baiyun whispered into Dagong’s ears that Longfe was Yumei’s boyfriend.

“Beida is a school with an honorable tradition, a tradition of leading true democratic movements. But recently Beida has fallen behind other universities. Hu Yaobang’s death gives us the perfect moment. We should seize this opportunity to reenact our tradition of democracy and science, but we must proceed with reason and planning.” Then many more students came out and gave short speeches.

Yumei walked out. After giving Longfe a hug, she started speaking. Her face was radiant. “Like most of people, I was drawn into the movement by emotion and excitement. I thought it was fun. Now I realized how important it could be. Our Beida is always ahead like during the famous May 4th student movement seventy years ago. Our burden is heavy. Other schools are looking up to us. It is our responsibility to lead our country,” she paused and threw her fist into the air. “Like many other movements, victory will not come easily. It may cost blood and even lives. But I am ready. I am ready to sacrifice my youth and my body to this honorable cause.” The crowd applauded for her when she moved to the side.

“Wow, she is ready to sacrifice her beautiful body,” said Baiyun to Dagong. Dagong rolled his eyes and nodded. Then he started moving forward.

“Where are you going?” Baiyun whispered. Dagong put his fingers across his lips to indicate that she should be silent.

Dagong stepped on a wooden stool, speaking.

“Unlike you, I’m a technician from Beijing Automobile Parts Factory.” The crowd cheered. “Unlike you, I have suffered a lot during the Cultural Revolution. Unlike you, I was not allowed to go to college due to my family background. Now I’m proud to be part of this movement. You will need our help to move tanks.” He raised his big fist.

With her mouth half open, Baiyun stared at Dagong. She couldn’t believe her eyes how this soft spoken man could be such a confident speaker. She jumped up and down cheering for him. Among this excited crowd of students, she found friends, solidarity, and home. At this moment, her mother’s warning, her eagerness to go abroad and leaving home had all disappeared. She felt that she was so proud to be here, to be part of this exciting movement.

Longfe stood on a wooden stool and continued, “In the last few years, the corrupted officials robbed our people and created disturbance in our society. Isn’t it the time to change our country and its leadership?”

“Yes!” The crowded shouted.

“Do you think the officials who benefit from the corruption, and all others who take the advantage of lawlessness, will be qualified to lead us to a better society?”

“No.”

“So we as students have the responsibilities. Hu Yaobang is dead, and we have begun a student movement. Are we trying to create turmoil and chaos in society, as the government always accuses us of doing?”

“No.”

“But whenever we march, we stop the buses and disturb the pedestrians on the streets. Should we change the way we protest?” asked Longfe.

“We should.”

A new world appeared in front of Baiyun. She didn’t know what it was yet. But it was becoming clearer and clearer.

“Should we go and have some dinner?” Dagong awakened Baiyun from her ruminating.

“Sure. Let’s go to the #2 cafeteria.” Baiyun led the way.

As they were walking toward the cafeteria among many students on bicycles and foot, they ran into some of Baiyun’s friends. She briefly introduced Dagong and said he was a friend she met in the last march. Her friends smiled and didn’t ask any questions as though rumors had already flown around.

In the cafeteria, Baiyun bought a stirred-fried bok choy with Tofu while Dagong purchased an egg dish, two boiled eggs in soy sauce. They found a table and sat on benches across from each other. The cafeteria was noisy with many people coming in and going. Some students rushed in with a bundle of big-letter posters under their arms. Some Beijing citizens walked in to enjoy a slice of college life. It was like a county fair without animals.

“I thought you went to college. Did you say that you had a degree in physics when you took Yumei and I home from Tiananmen Square?” asked Baiyun.

“Yes. But that was 1975, which was in the middle of the Cultural Revolution. So it is not a real college education. You know that. We went to college to reeducate professors, not to gain knowledge, which is why I’m still a technician.” Dagong talked while chewing because he couldn’t wait to answer Baiyun.

“So you had a chance to go to a real college but got turned down due to your family background?”

“Yes. In 1965, I was 18 years old and a straight A student. Every college in the country had rejected my application including Beijing University.” Dagong’s voice was getting hoarse. Baiyun could feel his sorrow even though it had happened many years ago.

“What is your bad family background?” Baiyun became very curious now.

“My father was a dead capitalist businessman and my mother died right after I was born. I was raised by my aunt who passed away twenty two years ago right after the Cultural Revolution just started and after I was sent to Inner Mongolia for reeducation.”

She realized that Dagong was as old as Meiling’s former boyfriend Uncle Weiming with whom she was deeply in love all throughout her childhood. And then he disappeared forever which left a void in her heart ever since.

Baiyun stared at Dagong with her eyes moist. She was out of words.

“What’s the matter? Too sad?”

“No. I have suffered, too as a result of the Cultural Revolution. My father died in the labor camp during the Cultural Revolution and my mother had many boyfriends living with us. My classmates used to treat me badly because my father was a professor and my mother had a taste for younger men.” Baiyun couldn’t believe she had lied about her father being dead. But who would believe her if she told the truth to anyone, especially Dagong, a fresh new friend. If she did, he would think she was crazy to put up with that family. He would never talk to her anymore. So a lie was essential now and he would not find out as long as she didn’t invite him to her apartment. If the situation lent itself, she would deal with it then.

“What? Younger men? Wow. It must be very hard to live with them.”

“Not really. Sometimes it was fun. They liked to have parties except when one of them fell in love with me.”

“Really? Did your mother break up with him? Why didn’t you elope with him? It sounds like something I would read in a fiction.” Dagong stared at Baiyun in utter astonishment.

“Of course, not. I never did tell him I loved him, too. Besides, he could be thrown in jail for courting a minor and he had enough troubles himself already.”

“What trouble?”

“His father was a dead businessman.”

“Just like me. I know what is like being a dead businessman’s son, which means you can’t have the life you want to live and the girl you want to love.”

“Exactly. So mother broke up with him and kicked him out of my apartment. Then I never get to see him again.” Tears slowly rolled down on Baiyun’s oval face. She was surprised she could shed a few tears while telling Dagong this ancient story. She wiped it off with her shirtsleeves and forced a smile at Dagong.

“Let’s take a walk in campus, which might cheer you up. I hear music. It must be a concert.” Dagong stood up and tried to pull Baiyun up.

“Sure. Let’s go.” Baiyun wiped her face quickly and followed Dagong.

People rushed by them as they were walking toward where the music was. Some even carried their own wooden chairs or stools.

“A concert by Cui Jian!” People yelled while running. “It is in front of the Library.”

“Cui Jian? Who is he?” Dagong sounded really interested in.

“He is a famous rock & roll singer. He comes here on campus every week. At least, he is very famous here,” said Baiyun proudly.

“If he is famous here, he would be famous all over China soon.”

“As usual, Beida is the center of the rebellion.”

“Or the center of the renovation.”

“It is the same thing however you put it,” said Baiyun. She felt so much happier now. A good piece of music could either make people cry or cheer them up. “If you keep coming here, who know what would become of you.”

“You are right,” said Dagong looking into the crowd. “Let’s hurry so we can get good seats?” He grabbed Baiyun’s hand and started galloping.

As they approached the library where the concert was, it was harder to walk. They could see people standing and waving their arms.

“I guess standing seats only,” said Dagong.

“We would be lucky if we can see anything at all. But you can since you are tall.” Baiyun was a little disappointed.

“Finally being tall is useful. Not just a Big Dumb Guy. I can carry you on my shoulder if you want.”

“No. I would tip and fall into the sea of people since I’m so clumsy,” said Baiyun even though she wondered what would be like if Dagong carried her on his shoulders. “Can you see anything?” Baiyun asked.

“Yes. He is blinded-folded with a piece of red cloth.”

“I hear people humming, ‘A Piece of Red Cloth’. It must be the song,” said Baiyun.

“The lights are blinding so that’s why he is blind-fold. I worry about him. I hope he wouldn’t fall off the stage.” Dagong narrated. “He is playing a trumpet now. He is like Mozart and can play an instrument blind-folded. He has dancers on stage dressed in tiger skin suits and doing tiger walk.”

“I’m envious you can see everything and I can’t.” No matter how hard Baiyun tried to tiptoe, she still couldn’t see much. All she could see was tips of people’s arms stretching to the sky and the hair on their wobbling heads.

“Can you carry me?” Dagong didn’t answer. He was too engrossed in the concert. “Can you carry me?” Baiyun poked Dagong on the ribs.

“Oh. Sure.” He squatted down and let Baiyun climb to his shoulders. With some effort, he stood up. Baiyun screamed. Her body wobbled and she discovered that she was afraid of height. She held Dagong’s neck tightly in order not to fall into the sea of people and what was going on stage had transfixed her.

The red cloth on Cui Jian’s face was gone. Wearing a white baseball hat, a plaid shirt and a pair of kakis, he looked dreamy on stage among the artificial clouds and the tiger skinned dancers. At the end of the song, Baiyun shouted “Bravo” along with many others around her. She stared into the distance and could almost see her voice traveling over many black-haired heads bouncing back and forth. People around her looked at her in admiration. She had never felt so tall and so confidant. The shyness had totally disappeared as though an alien had inhibited her and taken control of her brain. With the help of the surrounding people, she came down at the end of the concert.

They held hands and walked back toward Baiyun’s dormitory where Dagong’s bicycle was parked.

“It is so much fun that I don’t feel guilty for not studying TOFEL tonight,” said Baiyun. She couldn’t stop smiling while skipping forward. Dagong had to walk fast to catch up with her.

“Like an old Chinese saying, there is no never-ending party. I will go back to my apartment and study TOFEL,” said Dagong. His face was rather solemn.

“You are right. We should go back to TOFEL study instead of partying all night,” agreed Baiyun as a good and responsible student.

“Even though partying all night would be great!” said Dagong.

“You are too old to party all night,” said Baiyun teasingly.

“Hey, you never know what an old guy like me can do.” Dagong stopped now. They had reached Baiyun’s dormitory. On the side of the building beside the entrance, Dagong held Baiyun by the waist and pulled her toward him. Baiyun’s heart was beating faster. What was he going to do? For some reason she knew. She moved her head closer staring at him with her two innocent brown eyes waiting for his lips to reach hers. A sound startled her.

“Hi, guys.” It was Yumei’s voice.

“Hi, Yumei.” Baiyun quickly moved away from Dagong.

“Oh, sorry. Have fun.” Yumei quickly walked into the dormitory door.

“Well, she stole our kiss,” said Dagong. “I need to go now. It will take me a while to get home.” He held Baiyun’s hands staring into her eyes. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then turned away.

Baiyun was standing in the dark feeling lost. How much she wished he would give her a long kiss. Yet she knew it might be too fast and too rushed. She needs to go to bed.

Chapter 6

At 2:00am on April 25th, Dagong arrived home after an hour and half bicycle ride. He pushed the squeaky gate to the four-corner yard open and saw someone sitting there smoking. As he walked closer, he realized he was Lao Liu with a cat lying next to him. OMG, Dagong said to himself. He wished that not a single soul in this yard had witnessed his coming home this late or this early. He somehow didn’t want to explain. He knew some day he had to explain to Baiyun he was married so he couldn’t marry her even though he was deeply in love with her. Of course, he didn’t have to tell Lao Liu about this.

“Lao Liu, why are you still awake, day dreaming?” Dagong tried to be humorous.

“Dagong? You are late, wild man,” said Lao Liu as though being awoken from a nap.

“Why are you still awake, dead man?”

“Wow, you are getting naughty, too. I guess it’s good for you. You used to be the dead man in this yard. Now I’m it. At least my flowers are alive.” Lao Liu stroked the cat. The cat turned around and seemed to enjoy it.

Dagong sat down next to Lao Liu and lit a cigarette.

“Zhang Ping has been looking for you this evening. She wanted to find you in Tiananmen Square. I told her that it was impossible to find someone there. After the memorial service of Hu Yaobang, so many people were hanging around the Tiananmen Square. It was like a county fair in giant scale. She didn’t believe me. Then I told her I had seen you talking to the students. She screamed and ran into your apartment sobbing. So be careful. If I were you, I would spend the night here in the yard,” said Lao Liu as he lit another cigarette.

“What happened to you? Have you gotten kicked out of your apartment, too for falling in love with your roses?” Dagong made a face.

Lao Liu didn’t answer for a while. Yes it was not quiet. The sound of water dripping down by the laundry hanging from the ropes in front of every apartment could be heard. The crickets and cicadas were chirping, celebrating the late spring night. Even some loud snoring could be heard through the paper-thin windows.

Of course, really loud shouting would soon drown this noise. A door was slammed open. Mrs. Wang was chasing Mr. Wang out.

“Where did you go today after work?” Mrs. Wang shouted. She wore a torn T-shirt and pair of holey shorts. Her long hair was disheveled. She waved a shoe in her right hand.

“I went to Tiananmen Square to see what’s going on?” Mr. Wang tried to run fast. “Be quiet or you will wake up everyone.”

“I don’t care. Do you know it is dangerous there?”

“Dangerous? I think it is safer than with you at home.” He opened the gate and wandered out.

“Ok. I don’t care where you go now. But tomorrow I want you come home after work before going off to some crazy political demonstration.” Mrs. Wang followed him to the gate and yelled to the darkness.

Dagong stared at Lao Liu and shook his head, and then waved at Mrs. Wang who was still breathing heavily from anger.

“Come and have a cigarette,” said Dagong.

“Sure. I need one.” Mrs. Wang sat down and started crying. “What am I going to do? We have four kids.” Her cigarette went out right away and she had to have Dagong light it again for her.

“Don’t worry. He will come home. Where would he go otherwise? He loves the boys. When did he come home today?” said Dagong. But in his mind, he could see Zhang Ping’s anxious face as she was asking about his where about.

“Eleven! What do you think he was doing?” Mrs. Wang calmed down a little.

“He might have been walking around at Tiananmen Square watching Poetry reading or a Rock & Roll concert or maybe he went over to a college to work with students.” Dagong was getting self-conscious.

“Whom are you talking about? Do you think that sounds like my husband? He goes to work and he comes home. He has never been interested in anything else. All of sudden, you think he has joined the pro-democracy movement? Is that absurd? I think he is seeing a woman.” Mrs. Wang whipped her long hair to her back and took a deep drag on her cigarette.

“I don’t know. The country is changing and people are changing.” Dagong turned to Lao Liu. “Hey. Why are you so quiet? Sleeping? Where do you think Mr. Wang has been going after work?”

Silence. Dagong tried to push him. “Hey, if you don’t answer, I will push you into the fish pound.”

“Ha….” Mrs. Wang started laughing hysterically while pounding the bare brick she was sitting on. “A dead cop in the fish pond. What a lovely sight! The government will have to send a new policeman to watch us here.”

“Stop. You will wake up everyone.” Lao Liu all of sudden opened his eyes.

“Ok. You don’t want me here. I’m leaving. I hear one of my boys crying.” Mrs. Wang got up, tripped on a gap between bricks in the yard, steadied herself, and walked quickly into her apartment.

Dagong could imagine Zhang Ping pushing down the door and charging toward him with a knife in her hand. Her face looked red with fangs. He knew that he was in hot water or would be in deep trouble if he kept going to Beijing University and “running” into Baiyun. But he couldn’t imagine not seeing her now. Life is short. If he is ready to take risks in his life, now is the time, he told himself. If Zhang Ping kicked him out, he would just pitch a tent in the square.

Lao Liu lit a new cigarette. “That was a nice nap.”

“Are you awake? Where do you think Mr. Wang has been hanging out in the last few days?”

“The reason I didn’t say anything was I knew where he had been going,” said Lao Liu rather seriously.

“Where?” Dagong was getting very curious.

“He has been taking pictures of protestors for the police. I saw him in the official video. You see that’s why I didn’t say anything. We have a spy here. We have a spy in our yard.” Lao Liu was so angry that he stood up and started pacing. “You have to go to Beijing University tomorrow and tell them to be careful, Ok. I would like to get him arrested but you know I can’t. He is on the government side. Maybe I will have a chance in the future.”

“Ok. I will go to Beijing University tomorrow and tell them this. But I don’t think they would stop doing what they are doing. I hear that they are planning a march to Tiananmen Square soon to commemorate the May 4th student movement in two weeks. They are still trying to have a dialogue with the government and so far the government refuses their demands. They may have a protest march for that in a couple of days. I’m a worker’s representative for the Beijing Student Solidary Federation. I will go back there tomorrow to organize that,” said Dagong rather enthusiastically.

“You really like this movement, I can tell.” Then Lao Liu turned toward Dagong and looked at him in the eye. “Why? Why are you so brave this time? Who woke you up? Who brought you to life?”

“The students. I like them and I like freedom. Have you been to Tiananmen Square recently and looked around? Poetry readings, Rock & Roll concerts, acrobat performances and tarot card readings. People are enjoying themselves. Democracy has been around the west for several centuries and more than two hundred years in the United States. Do you think it is about time for it to shine its light here? It’s definitely not traveling at the speed of light. If so, it would have been here a long time ago.” Dagong stood up as though he was practicing a speech.

Lao Liu cut in, “As you know, China had a brief democracy around the turn of the century under the Sun Yat-sen’s government after the toppling of the Qing Dynasty, the last imperial dynasty of China. It had the first democratic election in 1913. But it was short-lived and only lasted for three months before Sun Yat-sen relinquished his power to General Yuan Shih-kai, who in turm declared himself as the emperor of a new dynasty until his death in 1916. The warlords and Chiang Kai Shek ruled for the next 33 years without success and lost its power to the Communist Party in 1949. The Chinese people have been used to a central government as shown by our more than 2000 years of civilized history. People in power don’t like to give up power because it’s so nice to be the ‘Emperor of China’. So why do you think this time it’s different? I can’t believe how crazy you have gotten.” Lao Liu opened his palms staring at Dagong.

“Yes. I can’t believe myself. Sometimes after you have long suffered long and been almost dead for many years, you tend to believe in miracles.” Dagong sighed.

Lao Liu continued. “Do you remember in 1957 when everyone was encouraged to speak up and to criticize the Communist government? In the end, the government came in, purged the most brilliant and most talented individuals and sent them to labor camps. Have you forgotten that? Have you forgotten the Cultural Revolution? Have you forgotten the labor camp yourself?” Lao Liu stood up, grabbed Dagong’s shoulder shaking. “Wake up!”

Dagong broke free from Lao Liu and sat down. He lit another cigarette and started smoking. “But what is the meaning of life if we keep being passive and dead?”

“Who tells you to question that? You know many of these young people didn’t even know what the Cultural Revolution was like? They were born after that. There is a sucker born every minute.”

“That’s the beauty of that, their naivety They will rise up and overthrow the government,” said Dagong. He was surprised how forceful he had become.

“Then do you think they would be interested in having a democratic government? What makes you think they are not interested in having the power all to themselves?”

“One can always hope. I don’t know. I just don’t want to be negative.” Dagong looked up to the late spring night. The moon came out from behind the clouds, looking huge and pale emitting its cold light. He thought of Baiyun, her angelic face, her beautiful voice, and her troubled family background. She, too, suffered in the Cultural Revolution. Why were they stupid enough to join the movement? He should find her and ask her that question. How much he wished he could see her now.

“I’m going in,” said Lao Liu while standing up gradually. He tried to do a few stretches. “Oh, my legs. But you, Dagong, I think it is safer for you here. Zhang Ping is mad at you and may strangle you if she sees you. Take a nap here by the fish pond.” He slowly walked away. Then he turned back, “Oh, I forgot to tell you that the police have been ordered to line up near the Beijing University and QingHua University so if students were ready to march again, they can be stopped at their infancy. Of course, the police will wait for orders. If there is no order, they will just stay there and watch. Tell the students to be careful. The police are armed. Good night.”

“Ok. I will. Good morning,” said Dagong.

Lao Liu chuckled and sauntered away.

Dagong tried to sleep on the brick wall by the fishpond. Fortunately Lao Liu left him a blanket to cover himself. He couldn’t fall asleep. He thought about what was going to happen if he continued to ignore the TOFEL study, join the student movement and see Baiyun. Regardless whether the students should succeed or not, he would have to change his life. He had woken up. He realized that he had lived in a self-imposed prison for too long. The wind of democracy finally broke the window of his cell so he could escape. But it was up to him to decide whether he should get out or not. It is time, he was telling himself. He would at least pitch a tent in Tiananmen Square tomorrow just like all the people from other provinces. At this moment he could hear the opening and closing of the squeaky gate. He could hear Little Pea’s giggles and her boyfriend Yu Gang’s voice. As soon as they came in, their voices stopped.

Dagong sat up which startled Little Pea. She touched her lips trying to muffle her scream.

“Uncle Dagong, what are you doing here? Has Zhang Ping kicked you out? I don’t understand. She adores you.” Little Pea looked puzzled and sympathetic.

“Not really. I think I deserve a timeout myself for coming home late,” said Dagong mater-of-fact. “Just like you, except your parents will understand and let you in. Zhang Ping still thinks I shouldn’t get involved.”

“She is still living in the past, I think. I understand you. It is hard not to get involved. Nobody is working or going to classes. Everyone feels change is really coming this time so they don’t want to miss this huge event and being part of it.” Little Pea had really become an articulate girl.

“Have you had fun?” asked Dagong.

“Yes. We watched poetry reading and an acrobat performance.”

“Acrobat performance? How does that have to do with the pro-democracy movement?”

“They are patriotic acrobat performers. They are raising money to buy tents for people from out of town.” Little Pea talks so fast she was out of breath.

“Are you going to spend the night here?” Dagong asked Yu Gang.

“I think so. Little Pea, do you think your mother will approve of this?” gesturing at the two of them. Yu Gang sounded unsure.

“Of course. We are getting married, aren’t we?” Little Pea went over and gave Yu Gang a hug.

“Good night, Uncle Dagong.” Yu Gang wrapped his arm around Little Pea’s waist and pulled her toward Pumpkin’s apartment while kissing her.

“Good night.” Dagong watched them going away into the darkness and felt a tinge of jealousy. Right now he could use a kiss from Baiyun or, rather, many kisses from Baiyun. All of sudden, he got very tired. Nothing could stop him from sleeping. His eyelids were fighting to stay open and it was a losing battle. He decided to take a chance and go inside to sleep. Zhang Ping couldn’t possibly be still awake. He tiptoed and tried not to make any noise as he was approaching the door. He opened the door slowly. As he opened it, a shadow jumped on him.

“Dagong, where were you? Why haven’t you come home?” Zhang Ping fell into his chest sobbing. “I have been waiting for you all evening and then dozed off for a while. I heard your voice in the yard. I was too embarrassed to join you. I heard that you were with the students. How brave and how stupid! Why have you given up your dream of going to America? Do you know how many days I have prayed for us to go to America? Do you think I’m just a stupid woman with no dreams? I do. I want to go to America and you are my only hope.” She slipped down and fell to the floor since Dagong was not holding her tightly. She started pounding the floor and screaming. Little Turnip woke up and ran toward his mother. They were in a duet of crying. “Why are you so involved in this movement? There is no future in that. I know it. It never was and it will never be. Haven’t you forgotten the labor camp?”

Dagong, sat on the bed, numb. He was stunned to see Zhang Ping’s reaction and to witness her desire to get out of China. She might be smarter than he thought, he told himself. But he was too tired to think now. He just stared into the darkness listening and weeping silently.

“Ok. I will study TOFEL tomorrow.” He uttered these words to his own surprise.

Zhang Ping stopped crying immediately and stared into Dagong’s eyes. “Really? I love you.” She started kissing him all over.

Chapter 7

At midnight, Baiyun was back in her dormitory room. By then Yumei was fast asleep as well as the four other roommates. Not wanting to disturb them, she went to bed quietly without washing.

She had a dream that night. She dreamed that two people were pulling a rope to see who was stronger. They asked her to be the judge. After they had pulled for a long time, she couldn’t declare a winner. Exhausted by watching every step they took and looking for evidence of cheating, she ended up calling it a tie.

Baiyun heard knocking on the door while still in a deep sleep. As the knocking persisted, she eventually woke up. She had a hard time opening her eyes due to the bright sunshine through the window. By the time she did open her eyes, she noticed that all of her roommates had gone. She was only one in the room. They must have gone home for the weekend, said Baiyun to herself.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“Your mother.”

Oh, my God, what was SHE doing here? She jumped off the top-bunk and opened the door. Her mother was wearing a tan silk shirt and a pair of blue jeans with her hair tied into a ponytail, looking much younger than her actual age of forty-six. Her plump figure was unusually full of energy. After putting down two plastic bags full of food on the only table in the room, she wiped her face with her handkerchief.

“Oh, it’s hot in here. Baiyun, are you alright?” She said to her still sleeping daughter who had crawled back into the bed. Touching Baiyun’s forehead, she said: “Aach. Are you having a fever?”

“No, mother. I feel fine.”

“You should be careful. Mother can’t stay here and take care of you all the time. Last time, when I heard you marched to the square, I was so worried.” She sat at the table across from the bunk bed.

“Mother, I am twenty years old and can take care of myself!” Baiyun just stared at the ceiling. She knew a long lecture from Meiling was coming.

“I don’t know whether it is mother’s business to tell you or not. You are old enough to know how to deal with boys. But please stay away from those crazy students! And keep up your studies.” Meiling was getting more emotional as she spoke.

“He is not a student, mother,” said Baiyun calmly. She knew sooner or later she had to tell Meiling about Dagong.

“What? You have a boyfriend and he is not a student from Beida?” Meiling’s mouth dropped and her two big long-lashed eyes looked huge behind her glasses.

“Yes. But I’m just getting to know…. know him. But it feels good and I really would like to see him more,” said Baiyun while playing with her fingers. She was a little embarrassed.

“Ok, I don’t care who he is. Mother is just concerned about your future like always.” Then she stood up, “Get up. Mother will take you to lunch.”

“Where are we going?” Baiyun sat up.

“The Russian Tavern.”

“Woo.” Baiyun was excited. She decided that it was worthwhile to sit through another one of Meiling’s long lectures in order to have a nice meal.

After Baiyun finished cleaning herself in the common washroom and putting on a floral silk dress, she left for the restaurant with Meiling. Unavoidably, Meiling’s presence had attracted some attention on campus. But this time the students were not so surprised, since this was just another example of a parent coming to take a student home, quite common lately. Many parents worried about their children’s future during this chaotic time. Many parents decided to take their children home to keep them out of trouble. Nevertheless, plenty of people were still hanging out on the street. Besides, Beijing University had become the focal point for students from other universities, reporters from all over the country and small business people from all around town. Baiyun’s mother couldn’t help to stop at a student fund-raising table, manned by a bald but well-groomed student. As a successful small businesswoman, Meiling enjoyed showing off her new wealth. She opened her purse and gave the student twenty yen.

“Thank you, auntie,” said the student with a big grin. He tucked the coins neatly into a metal box on the table.

“No problem. This is my daughter’s school. I should support the students..” Baiyun was embarrassed. But she was happy that Meiling supported the movement without even knowing it.

A second young man with long hair and scruffy beard stood by the table. He was holding a flag with the Beijing University emblem on it. He picked up a small model of the flag from a box and gave it to Meiling. She proudly placed the flag in the buttonhole of her tan blouse. After that, they passed a few impassioned street orators and the now common T-shirt vendors. The restaurant was located across the street from one of the campus gates. It was a small elegant restaurant specializing in Eastern European cooking. Baiyun’s mother always brought her here to treat her. Although the treat session did not always end happily, Baiyun kept coming back. The food was too good to refuse, and the portions were large.

The restaurant was usually very busy due to its location. It was not so today since the lunch crowd had not arrived yet. A hostess in a traditional Russian costume showed them to a small table for two covered with a green tablecloth. A beautiful plastic flower vase in the middle had a few freshly cut flowers.

“Oh, my God, it is so hot,” said Meiling while seating down. Her ample body was always more sensitive to heat than others.

“Baiyun, I think you are too skinny now. You see, Mother can’t stop you from attending extracurricular activities. But we should set limits. It is not worthwhile to damage your health. My God, look at my tan and slender girl.” She stared at her and frowned.

“OK, mother.” Baiyun was so amazed to see how Meiling always worried about her being too skinny while her own concern was to lose some weight herself. Even by Western standards, she was not a skinny girl. It was not obvious to Meiling, however. In fifteen minutes, the first course had arrived. Baiyun’s was a bowl of mushroom soup while Meiling’s was chicken soup. The soup looked white and creamy.

“Baiyun, listen to me. Please don’t get involved in this protest business too much.” Meiling lit a cigarette and started smoking. “You should think about yourself more and try harder to go to America.”

Baiyun swallowed several spoons full of soup. Creamy soup was her favorite. She finished it in just a few minutes. Then she raised her head and stared at Meiling. She didn’t answer Meiling. But inside her, she was asking herself. Why wasn’t she interested in going to America anymore? In the last five years, she constantly dreamed of going to the western world because she wanted to escape the craziness of her family. Life had not been easy for her. This noisy, strange, family full of dark secrets had never felt like home for her. While Baiyun was growing up, Meiling had never had much time left to spend with her after working long hours and going out with her boyfriends. Her betrayed, powerless father had enclosed himself inside a private greenhouse after work or played violin late into the night. She always imagined a place was far and far away where everyone loved her and adored her. America was a place far enough away for her to imagine. During her freshman year at Beijing University, she was not chosen to go and study in Europe. She cried for a week and experienced deep depression for the first time in her life. Last summer, she spent the whole summer reading the English language newspaper. At the end of the summer, she found out that she needed to get glasses. But now all the eagerness to get out of the country had evaporated. A powerful force had pulled her heart away from that dream. It was so strange that for the first time in her life she felt she was not in control of her life. Through this movement, she found friends, community, and most importantly, excitement. Was it true that she always wanted to be a leader?

“Why don’t you answer me?” asked Meiling.

“Mother, I don’t know.” At this moment, her heavy, inflated head thought of nothing but food. She felt like she could eat a horse.

“Don’t mumble! Where is my hard working determined daughter? I haven’t talked to you for a couple of weeks; you seemed to have really changed. Ok. Like I have always said, it is your life, not mine. You have to decide what to do with it.”

She knew this was Meiling’s old trick, transferring the responsibility to her. Actually she liked it this way, which would help her to think more seriously about herself.

“Actually it is to my advantage if you decide to stay here rather than going abroad. Why do I want you to leave, to go to a place so far away and not knowing when I would see you again? It is just for you and for your future that Mother encourages you to go to America,” said Meiling earnestly.

Yes, Baiyun said to herself, she was very useful for Meiling at home. As the main cook and household chore person, Baiyun’s leaving would be a major loss for her family, although Meiling had turned her boyfriends into cooks after Baiyun had left for college. Yet her going to America was an important decision for both her and Meiling.

Their main course had arrived. Meiling suddenly made a big grin toward the waitress. Baiyun got a cream-baked fish while Meiling had Russian style beef, which was also full of cream and butter. Then the waitress placed a hot iron plate in the middle of the table. It was full of seafood, eggs, sausages, onions and mushrooms. A propane burner was burning hot under it.

“What wonderful food! Thank you,” said Meiling to the waitress.

“Do you need anything else?” asked the waitress coldly. It was impossible to get any smile out any of these state-employed waitresses.

“Not for a while,” said Meiling with a mouth full of food.

By now Baiyun was immersed in her food. Heavy cream was her favorite. Soon her mouth, inside and out, was coated with a layer of pink cream.

“Eat. Eat.” Meiling kept putting food into her dish. “Baiyun, listen to me. Think about going to America soon. The situation here is very unstable now. The students may be right but you never know what is going to happen next. The government keeps broadcasting threatening messages. Police are posted everywhere. Don’t get confident too early. The situation could change overnight. By that time, it might be too late to go to America. They may shut China’s door completely.”

Baiyun nodded while putting a squid into her mouth. Her cheeks expanded. She was struggling to chew and swallow. The juice contained in hollows of the squid oozed out from corners of her lips. She struggled to wipe it off before it dripped down to her dress.

“Baiyun, don’t eat so fast. Otherwise you will have a stomach ache.” Then her eyes gleamed and her face turned pale. “Baiyun, do you know how hard is has been for Mother to raise you? If not for you, I would have left this family a long time ago. Your father never loved me. He only loved his roses, you know. He is inhuman. Mother has sacrificed everything in order for you to become a useful and decent person….” Weeping, she took out a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her big but delicate nose.

Baiyun was wondering how much Meiling had really sacrificed herself. She had not seen a lot of evidence. But she just kept listening. She knew the storm would be over soon.

“It was too late for me to become somebody,” continued Meiling, “You are mother’s hope, don’t you know that?”

Baiyun moved her eyes to the dish where Meiling’s entrée, the Russian beef was before. The dish was completely empty. She knew where Meiling’s entrée had ended up, --- her own stomach. Her lips were virtually glued together by the heavy cream. Her body was so clotted with fat that even her neck was stiff.

In an hour and a half, Baiyun and Meiling finished working through all the dishes and Meiling had finished pouring out all her thoughts. They walked out of the restaurant after paying the bill at the counter. Like usual, Baiyun did not feel good after this heavy meal. Her belly was so inflated that she felt her pants were going to burst open. She ran to the bathroom to loosen her belt one more notch.

With her still moist eyes, Baiyun’s mother stared at the elegant Beijing University gate across the street. Baiyun’s return did not disturb her.

“Baiyun, do you remember how hard you have studied in order to get into the famous Beijing University? Both your father and I are proud of you very much. You should appreciate this opportunity.”

“Yes. I do, mother.” She understood Meiling’s wish. Every mother wanted her daughter to be a good student. But it bothered her that Meiling mentioned her father. She worried about him and wished she could go home and pay a visit soon. She didn’t think she was up to it since the last experience. She hoped Meiling would understand what being a good Beijing University student truly meant, which was to carry Beijing University’s traditions and fight for equality, freedom and democracy in China.

When they were just about to cross the street, a group of 40-50 bicyclers rushed out of the Beijing University gate. They immediately blocked the street. Baiyun and Meiling had to wait. Baiyun wondered where they were going. She was sure that they were not going for an outing, because some of them wore armbands bearing slogans like “Free Press” and “Equal Dialogue”. Then she recognized some of her friends. So she ran toward them.

“Where were you today, Baiyun?” Her friend Li Yan asked her first while holding onto her bicycle under her armpit, which was a little too tall for her short body.

“I’m with my mother.” Baiyun pointed her chin toward Meiling.

“Your mother, is she going to take you home?” Li Yan’s eyes widened.

“No. She just lectured me for three hours,” whispered Baiyun.

“Everybody, let’s go.” Someone in the bicycle group announced.

“I have to go.” Li Yan turned around and climbed back to her bicycle.

“Where are you going?” asked Baiyun.

“This is a bicycle rally to support Beijing’s journalists, who were meeting this morning with Hu Qili, a member of Communist Central Politburo standing committee in charge of the press.”

After the bicyclists had left, Baiyun’s mother came over and asked, “Who are those students?”

“They are friends at the News Center where I will volunteer to be a reporter soon,” said Baiyun proudly.

“A reporter? Baiyun, you always liked to lick on eight piles of shit at the same time and could not finish a single one. You should concentrate,” said Meiling.

“Mother, you don’t know how important the writing is to me.”

Baiyun and Meiling walked silently toward her dormitory where Meiling’s bicycle was parked. Still feeling full, Baiyun felt like jumping. She galloped a few feet, stopped and waited for Meiling to catch up. Meiling’s high heel shoes prevented her from walking too fast.

It felt breezy during this sunny spring day. The cherry blossoms and the yellow forsythia flowers were everywhere along the road. They were walking toward the campus lake, the “Nameless” lake. The road zigzagged along the small artificial hills. Hard-working students mostly occupied the green park benches. These were often the only quiet places they could find on campus to study. But even here was no safe heaven. Several student discussion groups had occupied a few benches.

“Wenjing, Wenjing.” Baiyun found one of her classmates sitting on a bench by a tree, hard at work. A pair of thick-white-framed glasses sat on top of her delicate and cream-white face, which resembled a steamed-bread just coming out of the steamer that one could not help to take a bite. Her short straight black hair covered most of her face. She was reading intensely.

“What?” She raised her head from the thick GRE book and stared at Baiyun.

“Hey, Ms. Book, are you hiding here?”

“Hi, Baiyun. I thought you were in Tiananmen Square.” Wenjing gazed at Baiyun and looked puzzled. She pondered whether this sudden appearance of Baiyun was reality or not.

“Almost all the time, but today I am with my mother.”

“Your mother, is she going to take you home?”

“No. She doesn’t have that much control over me,” Baiyun said quietly and then smiled at the gradually approaching mother.

Wenjing moved closer to Baiyun and whispered into her ears, “I have heard that you have fallen in love with a factory worker. Is that true?”

“Ha….” Baiyun laughed out loud, “almost true, except that he is a technician, not a worker.”

“Woo, I couldn’t believe it. Is that because your romantic juice finally leaks out?” They both laughed loudly.

“Wenjing, this is my mother.”

“Hi, auntie,” answered Wenjing shyly.

“Ok, we’d better go and leave you alone with your books.” Baiyun and Meiling left.

Before they reached Baiyun’s dormitory, Meiling said, “Baiyun, you’d better tell me something about your new boyfriend before the rumor runs too far.”

“He is a nice man. But it seemed that his charm got me right away.” Baiyun didn’t feel like hiding anything from Meiling. Although Meiling had never openly encouraged her to find a boyfriend, and always said study should be her first priority, she knew that Meiling understands men better than most people in her age.

“But he is a common worker, Baiyun.” Meiling’s face had reddened and voice rose. It seemed that her daughter’s new behavior had really given her a great deal of worry.

“A technician, Mother, I think he really loves me. What can I do?” Baiyun was using the opportunity to tease Meiling because Meiling’s boyfriend Lao Zheng did not have much education.

“Baiyun, listen to mother.” Meiling stared at Baiyun and said, “That kind of love will not last.”

“But I will enjoy it as long as it lasts,” said Baiyun and the sound of her voice carried a sense of mockery.

They were standing in front of Baiyun’s dormitory, staring at each other from across the bicycle.

“Baiyun, can you be more practical? Can you learn something from mother?” Under the sun, Meiling’s eyelids were glistening.

“Yes, mother.” She finally gave in. Baiyun understood Meiling very well. Meiling’s constant warning helped her stay away from boys during her teenage years.

“Ok, then you make mother feel better.” Meiling wiped the corners of her eyes and rode away.

At 12:30pm, the campus was busy. Lunchtime started half an hour ago. Students, riding on bikes, rushed toward the cafeteria on narrow cement streets crowded by people and street vendors. Bicycle bells were ringing loudly. These highly skilled bicyclists didn’t want to get off their bicycles no matter how slow the traffic was. They could stay stationary and balanced for a long time until they found the tiny space between two pedestrians to sneak through.

Baiyun went into the campus convenience store near the “Triangle” and bought a notebook. The “Triangle” was extremely crowded. Big-letter posters written in Chinese calligraphy covered the poster racks like snowflakes. Layers upon layers, student spectators filled up the rest of the “Triangle”. Baiyun always enjoyed walking by here every day after lunch to see what was going on. But today among so many people, she had a hard time focusing. She felt like an organizer, a planner and an insider, but as a reporter, she remained detached as an outsider to impartially observe the students’ reaction toward this new movement. At least, the crowd reflected the broad support from the students. It was impossible to read anything from such a crowd and even harder to get out. In a fraction of second as she was fighting her way out of the crowd, someone touched her breasts. Her reaction was mute. She was too ashamed to yell. She looked around and saw a few southerners nearby. She couldn’t tell which one was guilty. Then she spotted a dark head fleeing in the opposite direction.

“Pervert!” she mumbled, which was her usual reaction.

Her stomach was still inflated from the big meal. She had a lot to think about. She thought about her plan to go to America next fall. She had to study hard to pass the exam. She really had an incentive to leave because she could not imagine going to live back at home after the recent episode. She had grown up to become an adult and could no longer be her Meiling’s boyfriends’ cute little girl or her mother’s bait to get them to come to visit. Her world was disintegrating. She must leave Meiling’s world completely and build one for herself. Even Meiling wanted her to leave for America. But did she really want to go?

She was flowing in the crowd aimlessly like a leaf in the ocean.

The radio station was broadcasting. The reporter went on to say the students had waited patiently as the official memorial service for Hu Yaobang took place in the Great Hall of the People three days ago. They prepared a petition that listed seven demands to the communist officials. They sent three representatives to the Great hall but no one had come out to receive them. The representatives had knelt on the steps of the hall, imploring Premier Li Peng to come out and accept their demands.

“Kneeling on the steps!” She was shocked and moved by students’ sincerity. She thought of Longfe and Big Li. They might be there, standing in front of the Great Hall of the People. He might not have eaten several meals. He might have camped overnight at Tiananmen Square. She also thought of Dagong. He might be in the square today, organizing the workers and waiting for her.

Her head was spinning. The voice in the loud speaker became louder and louder.

“The Beida Student Federation declares a Class Boycott that goes in effect immediately.”

For some reason she couldn’t comprehend, Baiyun was happy to hear this announcement. No more classes so she could study TOFEL all day long. That was the old Baiyun. The new Baiyun had decided walking toward the radio broadcasting station. It located on the second floor of the Dorm #28 which was located next to the “Triangle”. She followed the voice to the radio station. She was eager to find out what was going on. Maybe she could be of some help. She knocked at the door and was surprised to see her classmate Li Yan open the door. Then two male students welcomed her with big grins.

“Hi, Baiyun. Welcome to Beida Radio Station FM 101,” said Li Yan. She shook Baiyun’s hand, pretending to be formal. Then she turned to other two students. “This is Wan Gang and Zhang Jun. They are both students in the Electrical Engineering department. We found two used speakers and an old army radio transmitter so we have a homemade radio broadcasting station.”

“That sounds great. Li Yan will be the leading activist in our class,” said Baiyun teasingly.

“Not really. I’m just doing some behind the scenes work. Electronics has always been my passion. I have never dreamed of operating a real radio broadcasting station. So my dream has come true,” said Li Yan proudly.

“Baiyun, do you want to help us? We have a lot to do. And you can do an awful lot without being too visible, if that’s what you want,” said Wan Gang.

“Actually Baiyun is also a writer. She can help with the reporting,” suggested Li Yan.

“Ok. I always think I can do better with journalism than chemistry.” Although she hadn’t made up her mind to get involved so much yet, Baiyun accepted the offer.

“See, our chemistry department is full of talent,” said Li Yan.

Baiyun was appointed as the first correspondent in the news center. Then they set up a reception area for visitors. Soon several students from the journalism department came to work too. They helped to write the radio scripts, gather and announce news.

Baiyun became immersed in the news broadcasts. She always liked writing. Writing was like bread and butter during her difficult childhood. She dreamed of becoming a writer someday. She was glad that she had an opportunity to realize her dream during her busy school year. She also enjoyed interviewing people. It was such a fun job to be able to talk with so many people to get the first-hand news.

In the next week, Baiyun worked in the radio broadcasting station every afternoon, and stayed late into the night. Mornings, she would go to the library and study TOFEL. Sometimes, she wondered where Dagong was and wished he could join her to study TOFEL. Yet she remembered Meiling’s warning and didn’t think she should have a boyfriend now. But why had he just disappeared like he did? She found herself often asking herself. Has anything happened to him? She thought of looking for him but had no idea where to start. She was waiting patiently.

The station was getting busier and busier. Every day each university in Beijing, Tianjin, and Shanghai sent a representative to the station with the daily news about their campus activities. Baiyun enjoyed meeting all the representatives. Unlike the often-pedantic students from Beijing University, she found that students from smaller universities were easier to talk to. Talking to her own classmates sometimes made her feel inferior. But this rarely happened to Baiyun, the reporter. She was a confident girl. During the course of several days when she was working at the radio station, she had never found her life so occupied and interesting. She interviewed people, wrote scripts and did some announcing. She liked to be an announcer, which made her feel like an actress.

On the third day when Baiyun was discussing a radio script with a journalist, two students with heavy southern China accent rushed in. They looked tired and dirty. They eyes were red, their faces and clothes gray and covered with coal dust. They must have been on the train for several days.

“We came from Xian. Please help us,” said the tall slender student.

“It’s terrible! It’s terrible.” The smaller student started crying.

From their state of mind, Baiyun knew that something serious had happened.

“Please sit down.” Baiyun moved out the only two chairs in the room. She went to sit on the lower level of the bunk bed. She made two cups of hot tea for the students and started interviewing without a notepad since she didn’t want to make them nervous.

The tall student gained the strength after drinking the hot tea. He wiped his face quickly with the towel from Baiyun and started telling the story.

“On the day of Hu Yaobang’s memorial service, we planned a peaceful demonstration. We gathered quietly in the athletic field in our university and presented our hand-made wreath in order to pay our last moment of respect to him. When we were praising Hu Yaobang’s past and talked about our country’s reform, the police interrupted our meeting. They declared that some of our participants were unemployed workers who looted stores during the course of the peaceful demonstration. Then the police rushed into the crowd and opened fire. They killed many innocent people. In response, we burned police vehicles. The Public Security Bureau people dragged many students away to the yard of the city government building…,” the tall student started weeping uncontrollably.

“What happened then?” Many pairs of compassionately eyes now stared at him and helped him to continue.

“They beat them to death or threw them against the wall.”

“Please help us to fight those wild animals.” The small boyish looking student stared at Baiyun and others earnestly and pleaded for help.

Baiyun suggested someone to lead these two students to a dormitory to rest first.

After they had left, many people asked in unison, “Do you believe it? Do you believe it?”

Baiyun didn’t say anything. She knew that she had no way to verify the story. They had no fax machines or long-distance phones. It would take many weeks for them to find the right person and communicate through the mail. By then, the news would be too old.

But in her mind, these two students’ eyewitness accounts were more real than any other rumors she encountered recently. She heard the police were surrounding Tiananmen Square. Troops were moving in from other provinces. She suddenly felt a chill passing through her body. There might be blood involved. She was both excited and afraid. She was excited because it could be a golden opportunity for heroic acts to be performed. During the communist education in her grade school and high school years, becoming a hero was everyone’s dream. She was also afraid because she might lose her life if she got involved too much. She closed her eyes. Dagong’s lanky body showed up in her mind. How much did she want to see him now! A hug from him would make her brave again.

Chapter 8

For three days, Dagong had been going to work during the day and studying TOFEL in the evenings trying to forget about Baiyun. But the harder he tried, the stronger her image became, sometimes so real that he could sense her presence. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he went to Tiananmen Square to look for her among the students. He walked to the Beijing University station at Tiananmen Square asking about her. No one had seen her. He told them the warning from Lao Liu about the moving in of the police but then he realized that they were already posted everywhere around the square.

“What do you think the police are doing here?” Dagong asked a student at the Beida station.

“I don’t know. I think they are targeting us so we have something to demonstrate about. Just kidding. I think the government just tries to scare us by sending the police and troops here so we will give up. But it is not that easy. Reporters from all over the world are here so the government has to consider their reputation. They don’t want to lose face. They don’t want to be the first ones to open fire.”

“Have you achieved your goal of having a dialogue with the government?” asked Dagong.

“No. The government still refuses to talk to the United Student Federation. We are waiting patiently. If they still don’t agree to meet with us, we are planning to have another rally in a week to coincide with the seventieth anniversary of the May 4th student movement.”

“Really, it is great. On May 4th, 1919, students from Beijing University played a crucial role in the movement against the Versailles Treaty that awarded the German rights of Shandong province to Japan. You can do it again seventy years later.” Dagong waved his fist in the air. “Do you need our workers protection? In the next few days, I can find a group of strong workers to meet with you in Beida. We can serve as a human shield for you students.” Dagong couldn’t believe that he was getting excited. He would be able to see Baiyun again and march with her. For the time being he could not stop seeing her. Whatever it took, he would pursue it.

“Sure. I would like that.” The student shook hands with him.

Just as he was about to walk away, he heard a familiar voice.

“Dagong.”

He turned around. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Baiyun. She was wearing a blue and white floral long sleeve shirt and blue jeans. On her head sat a broad-brimmed hat. She beamed at him with her two big innocent eyes. Under the bright sunshine, she looked like a flower in full bloom. She extended her hand toward him. He grabbed it, opened his arms and gave her a big hug. Baiyun rested her head on his warm chest. They hugged for a long time. He hadn’t felt so comfortable for a long time. If not for the others around here, he would definitely have kissed her. He broke loose of her and breathlessly exclaimed:

“I finally found you. What brought you here?”

“I’m a reporter now for the Beida News Center. So I have to come here once in a while to report on what’s going on. The rest of the time, I have been studying TOFEL because Mother asked me to promise that I would. I keep thinking it would be nice if I could study with you.” She looked longingly at his swarthy face.

“I have been thinking about the same thing. Let’s take a stroll since we have been so good, too good, I mean.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her away from the crowd. “Let me show you downtown Beijing.”

“Sure. Where are you going to show me?” Baiyun looked at him sweetly. Her heart was beating a little fast.

“It’s a secret,” said Dagong. How much was he looking forward to this?

As they walked across Tiananmen Square hand-in-hand, they heard loud cheering coming from one of many circles of crowd.

“Let go and see.” Baiyun pulled Dagong forward to the crowd.

“I thought I was showing you around,” murmured Dagong. But he followed. What else could he do?

Baiyun came to the wall of the crowd and could see nothing. So she pushed, shoved and ducked under people’s arms. Dagong followed with difficulty because people cursed after Baiyun as she moved forward. Finally they arrived at the front row. Baiyun wasn’t sure she wanted to see.

Many bald men piled on top of a small bald man wearing a white cotton robe and whose neck was resting on an edge of a knife. His face was red and the blood vessels bulging yet his neck was intact. His eyes were closed and he looked serene and peaceful.

“Is this Qigong?” asked Baiyun.

“Ya. This must be a top Qigong performing troupe,” said Dagong while watching intensively.

People’s cheering was getting louder as more bald men climbed on top of the pile in the center. The man on the bottom was holding tight. You can almost see the edge of knife made a grove on his neck but no blood streamed out.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand it.” Baiyun pulled Dagong out of the crowd.

“Wow, that was impressive. Are you a little scared?” Dagong put his arm around Baiyun and looked into her face smiling.

“Not really. You don’t know how brave I am. It just reminds me of something scary,” said Baiyun sinking into deep thought.

“Later. Let’s go and see the poetry reading over there, which is not so crowded.”

“Sure. I love poetry.”

“You too?”

“Yes. It is the language of your soul, isn’t it?”

“I agree.” Baiyun nodded.

“Do you have any poems that I can read to see your soul?” asked Dagong.

“Yes. I’m not sure I want you to read them. It’s too revealing.” Baiyun made a face to him. “You?”

“No. But I can write some for you.”

“Sweet.” Baiyun smiled.

They arrived at the Poetry Reading crowd at the edge of the Tiananmen Square where the Great Hall of People was. A very young looking man stood in the center on a makeshift stage that was put together with boxes piled up in a pyramid shape. He wore a wrinkled white shirt and a white headband with “fight” in Chinese on it. He waved his hands as he spoke while trying to balance himself on this shaky stage:

In my grief I hear demons shriek;

I weep while wolves and jackals laugh.

Though tears I shed to mourn a hero,

With head raised high, I draw my sword

“Good job, young man! Do another one!” Someone in the crowd shouted.

A young lady with short hair and a red string headband on her head jumped up in the front row and rushed to the stage. She pushed the young man off the boxes after getting on. The stage wobbled and she, too, fell off. The crowd laughed.

The young lady stood on the ground and started reading:

As I look into the sea of people

I see anger

As I look into the sea of people

I see courage

As I look into the sea of people

I see victory

“Let’s go,” said Dagong. “We can pick up something to eat”

They walked to a vendor with a cart full of steamed buns. Behind it was a plump lady in a green polyester shirt and a ponytail tied up with a red ribbon. Dagong ordered ten pork steamed buns and two bottles of orange soda. When he handed the money to her, she asked, “Are you with the students?”

“She is from Beida.” Dagong pointed at Baiyun

“Ok. It is free then,” said the lady with a big smile.

“Thanks.” Dagong shook her hand. Then he turned to Baiyun and said, “Now we are going to Wangfujing shopping mall to get some deep-friend cream puffs.”

“Sure. I haven’t been there for a long time,” said Baiyun. She was getting very excited.

“Sounds like you are a country girl,” said Dagong teasingly.

“Bad.” Baiyun jabbed him on the ribs.

They had to fight their way through the crowd with a mixture of students, citizens from many parts of China and police in green uniforms. As they approached the Wangfujing Street, the famous shopping center, many shops with neon lights and signs and with merchandise inside and outside appeared. The signs said, “Olympus”, “KFC”, “Rolex”, “Gourmet Street”, “Calvin Klein”, “Nina Ricce”, “Gucci”, “Prada” and so on in both Chinese and English. It was noisy. The voice of people bargaining and merchants yelling could be heard. Then Dagong spotted something and quickly pulled Baiyun toward a vendor who had a table full of fried crickets, scorpions and grasshoppers on sticks.

“Baiyun, want one? I bet you have never had one of these.”

“Fried bugs, Yuck. When I was in high school, my classmates used to eat fried cicadas and frogs. I had never been popular enough to have a friend who ate them. It is too bad. Otherwise, I would have developed a taste for them at an early age.” She looked at the dead stiff crickets on sticks and frowned.

“That’s Ok. It is for kids and the Westerners who think these are our delicacy,” said the little man behind the table. Sure enough, two tall and red-faced Westerners came and each bought two.

“One is too small. They usually buy two to three,” said the little man.

“Let’s go,” said Dagong and walked toward the big tan brick building, the “Xidan Shopping Center”. .

As soon as they walked into this newly renovated old building, Baiyun got lost. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Everything had changed. She was so amazed to see the freshly painted balconies inside with elevators that had glass walls. Many colorful banners were hanging down from the third floor. The old wooden escalators had been replaced with a shining new one with lights all round. The atrium was full of well-dressed merchants with shining new products like Rolex watches, Gucci purses and Sony cameras. In the center a giant chandelier hung emitting soft white light. Many spotlights on the vast ceiling were shining down like many stars. TV screens along the walls of the balconies were flashing ads constantly. The whole place made her dizzy but she was in high spirits.

“I’m totally lost now. Where is the restaurant that has the deep-fried cream puffs?” Baiyun was really excited to come in here with Dagong. Before the only person who took her to restaurants was Meiling. Even though the food was always good, Meiling often was in a bad mood. It was so refreshing that she could come with such a handsome and fun company.

“It’s a surprise!” Dagong grabbed her hand pulled her toward an elevator. “Let’s try this brand new elevator.”

“Ok. I’m afraid of elevators,” confessed Baiyun. “But I’m sure you would be able to protect me if I get sick. I’m afraid of getting stuck in the elevator. Now I’m looking forward to it as long as you are with me.” Baiyun looked at Dagong’s eyes and smiled. Dagong pulled her toward him and gave her a squeeze, just short of kissing. At this moment, the elevator stopped and they had to get on with a few others. Baiyun was a little disappointed. Fortunately they got pushed together closer in the elevator. Baiyun got to rest her head on his chest.

“Don’t just stare at me. Are you surprised how handsome I’m?” Dagong teased her. “Look outside the glass wall. You are missing all the fun.”

Baiyun gazed out and all the colorful banners, merchandise and the chandelier became a blur as the elevator travelled. She could feel her stomach churn. She quickly looked away.

“Are you sick?” Dagong asked and looked a little concerned. Just at the moment, the elevator stopped and everyone swarmed out.

“No. I just need some food.” Baiyun was so relieved that they were out of this fancy glass elevator.

As they walked to the restaurant together hand in hand, Baiyun could see some people watched them in admiration. A sense of pride hit her. She tried to remember when was the last time she had felt this way. Growing up in shame and humiliation due to her father’s troubles from being a professor and Meiling’s many liaisons, she couldn’t remember an instance when she felt proud except when she got an “A” for her class at school which had not happened for a while. She really could feel it and liked it.

As they entered the brand new restaurant, Baiyun was surprised to see it empty and a group of waitresses standing in the corner chatting. When they noticed Baiyun and Dagong, one of them scurried over. She wore a red embroidered Chinese style top and a black mini skirt matched with a pair of red patent spiky high heels. She asked them where they wanted to sit among many shining wooden classic Chinese styled tables and chairs. They chose a table for two by the wall that had a red rose in the bottle.

After ordering some watermelon juice, they looked at the menu.

“What do you think? Should we sample some seafood dishes here before having their famous desert, the deep-fried cream puffs?” Dagong asked. “I don’t make a lot of money. But what the heck! Life is too short.”

“I have some money. Mother always makes sure that I have some money with me. I agree. Life is too short,” smiled Baiyun. “Let’s have our last meal before we die for the good cause.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you are ready to die already. Don’t you think you are too young to die? Would you have any regrets?” Dagong winked.

“I don’t know. Because of my harsh childhood, I felt like an old woman by the time I was 15. Now I feel so happy, so I’m actually getting younger. So maybe I’m too young to die. I want to experience true love.” Baiyun stared at Dagong and her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress showed up all of sudden.

“Sure,” Baiyun switched her mood, a skill for which she had plenty of training during her complicated childhood. “I would like to order a plate of sliced beef tongue and a plate of pig ears.”

“I would like to have some crispy shrimp. That’s it,” said Dagong. He handed the menu back to the waitress, who walked away wiggling her hips.

“I hate that she interrupted our nice conversation about the life, death and love, especially the last one,” said Dagong. “I’m still curious about your childhood story of your mom and the knife. Do you care to tell?”

“Why not, even though it might give me nightmares tonight,” said Baiyun mater-of-fact as thought she was commenting the furniture.

“You don’t have to if you want to. I don’t want to wreck your mood.”

“No. It is about time for me to tell everyone that I’m different and strange sometimes because of this. It is time for me to come out as a young woman instead of staying as an old one.” Baiyun felt good after saying this.

“Great. I’m glad that I helped you to come out. Whether you still like me or not after that, I don’t know. But I’m willing to risk that for your sake.”

“Of course. I will still l-i-k-e you,” said Baiyun. “Well. In a stormy night, my mom came home with a bloody leg. Oh, sorry. That’s a different story. One day, I arrived at my apartment after school. After walking through the dark hallway and opened the door, I saw my mother sitting smoking by our round dining table and on her right standing by our double bed was a young man. He was mumbling chants and waving a knife in his hands. Scared as I was, I froze and didn’t know what to do. My mind was racing and searching for solution frantically. Should I go to the neighbors and ask for help? Which one should I go to since most of them were still working? Would that be soon enough? I stood there silently and was too afraid to say anything since none of them noticed me anyway. I was telling myself that I was ready to leap forward to protect mother if the young man decided to attack her.” Baiyun stopped to take a breath.

“What happened then? What were they talking about?”

“Of course, Mother is still alive. She didn’t even get injured. Nothing happened. But it was the most intense moment in my life.”

“Has it been giving you nightmares?” Dagong sounded a little concerned. He was so focused on Baiyun and he didn’t even notice the dishes had arrived and Baiyun had already started eating. “I guess you don’t have nightmares. Ok. Just wondering.” He joined in the feast.

“I didn’t say I didn’t have any nightmares. I’m just hungry,” said Baiyun with a mouthful of food.

“I see. As long as you are eating, you are doing fine. Otherwise you wouldn’t have grown to be a college student. You would have perished a long time ago.”

“You are right. I’m doing fine. Don’t worry about me. Nightmares come and go. Am I full of surprises?” Baiyun looked at Dagong hard and was trying to gauge whether his attitude toward her had changed. She regretted telling him so much. But whom else could she talk to?

“Just talk to me about it if it bothers you. I love the fact that you are full of surprises.” Dagong touched Baiyun’s hand.

Baiyun held his hand and said, “Thank you for understanding me.” Then as though she remembered something, she asked “How about you? Do you have any secrets?”

“Of course. But I think we have revealed enough secrets for today. Do you still want the deep-fried cream puffs?”

“Oh. I forgot. I think I’m full. How about you?”

“Let’s go.” After putting down 10 yens, he stood up.

As they walked out of the Xidan Shopping Center, Baiyun encountered something she wished she didn’t. She saw Meiling riding on Lao Zheng’s motorcycle followed by a group of young men on scooters. She was wearing a new shinning leather jacket and a pair of leather pants. Only half of her face could be seen from under her helmet. Yet she had no trouble seeing. Baiyun tried to turn away swiftly because she didn’t want her mother to see her with the new boyfriend. But it was too late. Meiling greeted her before she could say anything.

“Hello, Baiyun, Baiyun, my daughter.” Meiling’s loud yelling could be heard a thousand meters away.

“Mother, what… are you doing here? It looks like you are leading a motorcycle gang.”

“Yes. What an observant daughter! We are called ‘The Flying Tiger Brigade’ and ride our motorcycles and scooters around to pass information to people in Tiananmen Square,” said Meiling proudly.

“I told you motorcycles would become a popular transportation in Beijing,” said Lao Zheng and gave Baiyun a wink. “Do you want one? I can buy you a new BMW motorcycle.”

“No. I don’t need one. I’m a reporter. If I travel too fast, I will miss crucial details.” Baiyun shook her head. The last thing she needed was to accept an expensive gift from Lao Zheng.

“Who is this young man?” asked Meiling.

“A friend I met around here. Not in Beida,” lied Baiyun. She decided that it sounded better this way.

“A handsome boyfriend! Good for you,” cheered Lao Zheng.

“Stop.” Meiling slapped him on his arm and turned to Baiyun. “How many times do I have to tell you? You should study TOFEL and go to America?” Then she pointed at the crowd. “Do you think this will turn into something?”

“Why are you so active in it? It is so unlike you,” whispered Baiyun.

“It’s fun. Besides how many years do I have left to have fun? I’m getting old,” said Meiling.

Now a circle of people was forming around them. People were curious about what was happening with these motorcyclists.

“Hey, Dagong,” shouted the young man on a scooter behind Meiling.

Dagong looked toward him and realized he was Pumpkin’s son, Broomstick. His heart sunk. A neighbor saw him with a young girl. He would be in trouble. At least they were not kissing, Dagong told himself.

“Hi. You look good on a motorcycle. I bet your mom would be proud of you. I’m here to grab something to eat and later we will go and organize the workers to help the students. Nice to see you and see you later”. Dagong started to walk away.

“Hey, mother. Can ‘The Flying Tiger Brigade’ join our ‘The Spirit of May 4th’ march? It would be a great if you could ride along with us.” Baiyun couldn’t believe she said this to Meiling.

Meiling thought about it for a minute and said loudly, “Sure. We’d love to support you students.” Then she lowered her voice, “Baiyun, after this march, you have to try hard to go to America.”

“Ok.” She nodded. “Bye. Mother. We have to run,” Baiyun quickly ran after Dagong.

“Come home sometimes,” yelled Meiling.

“Yes,” said Baiyun and didn’t care whether Meiling had heard her or not. If she was ever going home again, it had to be her own home.

As they were walking fast and disappeared in the crowd, Baiyun gave a thumb up to Dagong. “Good job for getting us out of here.”

“Anytime.” Dagong squeezed Baiyun’s hand. “I hear that you students will have a ‘Spirit of May 4th’ demonstration in three days. I will try to organize a group of workers to protect you.”

“Ok. That would be great.”

They quickly swam through sea of people and arrived at the Beida station.

“I have to go,” said Dagong. “I will see you soon.”

“When?”

“In three days during the ‘Spirit of May 4th’ march.” Dagong quickly disappeared.

He would just leave me alone here? Baiyun said to herself. Then she remembered that she should start interviewing people again. And she could probably write about the “Flying Tiger Brigade”. She congratulated herself for picking up a news item during lunch with a worker’s representative and guaranteed a worker’s protection squad for their May 4th march.

She happily found a quiet street, sat on a bench and started writing.

Chapter 9

At 5:00pm, Dagong’s wife Zhang Ping unlocked the wooden gate of their house and pushed it open. The old door led out a squeaky sound, shook and soon balanced itself.

“Where is everybody?” The yard was quiet and her voice echoed.

“Mom, look!” Her son Little Turnip, pointed at the white cat who was comfortably nestling himself in a tray of rice on the porch.

“Go, go away!” Zhang Ping woke the cat and chased him away. “I don’t need more fleas in my rice.”

Zhang Ping opened the door of her apartment, one of a circle of rooms around the enclosed yard.

“What a mess! It looks like your father has been home once and left. God knows where he is now. He must be in Tiananmen Square again. He doesn’t even care about our family life anymore.” She put away some clothes spread on the bed into the trunk, and then went back to the yard again. She took the mop that leaned against the kitchen wall, rinsed it and went back to her room. Little Turnip flew a paper airplane while Zhang Ping was mopping the floor.

Finished, Zhang Ping wiped her face with a towel and poured a cup of hot water from a red metal thermos bottle on the dining table. She walked back and forth in the room, making a trail of footprints on the wet floor. She sipped the hot water carefully, and then she walked to the radio on top of the dresser and turned it on.

“Mourning activities for Hu Yaobang are officially over, and anyone who continues demonstrating will regret the consequences. Workers, please go back to your work unit. Students, please go back to school. Don’t be fooled into a conspiracy. A handful of individuals with ulterior motives have used the grief of students to create turmoil. They have set up illegal organizations, and have printed counter-revolutionary leaflets to instigate dissention, create national disorder and sabotage the stable unit in politics. This is an upheaval to negate the leadership of the Chinese Communist party and the socialist system.”

Zhang Ping turned off the radio. She grabbed the mop and rushed out of the door.

“Little Turnip!” Zhang Ping yelled. “Don’t step on Uncle Lao Liu’s flower beds!”

Little Turnip made his way through Lao Liu’s small rose garden searching for his paper airplane. Then he spotted a worm and observed it.

“Little Turnip, let’s go,” said Zhang Ping, while washing the mop in the sink. “Where?”

“Tiananmen Square. We’re going to find your father and drag him home.”

“Why?”

“Do you want your father to get killed?”

“No”

“So, let’s go then.” She went over and grabbed Little Turnip’s arm.

“My airplane, my airplane!”

“Forget about that fucking airplane. Let’s go, do you understand?”

“Hi, Auntie Zhang, where are you going?” Pumpkin’s daughter Little Pea and her boyfriend Yu Gang stepped in.

Little Pea wore a red knitted jacket and a pair of blue jeans. Her yellowish dry face was radiant and cheerful, which was so rare for her. Yu Gang was a tall, skinny polite young man with square shoulders.

“Hi, Auntie,” said Yu Gang. He grinned and his small round eyes cast down.

“Oh, hi!” Zhang Ping nodded and faked a grin on her face. Then the smile soon disappeared. “We’re going to Tiananmen Square. I’m going to find Dagong and drag him home.”

“I’m not sure you can find him. It’s very crowded there. But you’ll have a good time,” said Little Pea.

“Woo, even Little Pea talks about having fun nowadays. If I can’t find him, I’m going to ask the police to catch him.” Zhang Ping and Little Turnip left.

Little Pea and Yu Gang closed the door behind them and hugged.

“It’s so nice. Nobody is here,” said Little Pea.

Yu Gang lifted up Little Pea’s small body and kissed her. He carried her toward Little Pea’s apartment in the far side of the yard with a big colorful movie star’s portrait on the door. They unlocked the door and went in. Little Pea’s apartment had two big inter-connected rooms. Besides the dining table, a dish cabinet and several bamboo chairs were in the living room. Three single beds lined against the wall for the three grown-up children.

Yu Gang and Little Pea kissed and caressed for a while. Then Little Pea lifted a corner of the window curtain and looked out. “It’s almost 6:30pm. Still no one has come back yet.”

“They are either stuck at the Tiananmen Square or having too much fun. Why do you worry about them? Are you afraid of being alone with me?” Yu Gang was holding Little Pea on his chest.

“No,” said Little Pea. Her face blushed.

“So, do you think we should go back to the Tiananmen Square or not?” Yu Gang stared at Little Pea intensely.

“I don’t know. What do you think?” She sounded uncertain yet couldn’t resist staring back at Yu Gang.

“Don’t you think it’s such an exciting event? People are so happy and talkative. I don’t think we should miss it. But it’ll be nice to be able with you alone.”

“You’re lying. Men are always very sweet before the marriage. After they get married and have what they want, they’ll be completely different.” Little Pea sounded very practical.

“Come on. That’s nonsense. That’s old garbage and no longer true. One should remain being romantic forever.” Yu Gang kissed Little Pea passionately.

“Who said that?” Little Pea sounded a little too seriously.

“Monica in ‘Once in life’.”

“But that’s the movies. The real life is much tougher than that.” She turned and buried her face again in Yu Gang’s chest.

“So we have to try to make it better.” Yu Gang kissed her once more.

“That’s not what us common folks should worry about,” mumbled Little Pea between kisses.

“Come on. That is exactly what students in the Tiananmen Square try to achieve. We want to be in charge. Maybe we should go back to the Square again and support them. And very soon we’ll have a new government, our own business, our own home and our own car.”

“It sounds like heaven. Do you think that could come true?” Little Pea was intrigued.

“Sure. Let’s go!” Yu Gang kissed Little Pea again and helped her to stand up. Before they stepped through the door, they heard Little Pea’s mother Pumpkin’s voice.

“Ah ya! I have never worked so hard in my life before.” Pumpkin waddled in, followed by Broomstick and Potatofeet.

“Hi, Mother.” Little Pea and Yu Gang called in unison.

“Woo, you two are smart, enjoying the silence and cool air here.” She just wore a yellowish short-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants. The shirt was soaked with sweat and looked transparent. Sweat rolled down from her forehead and her slightly sunburned fat, meaty cheeks, and more oozed off of the red tip of her flat nose, her short chin and her thick eyebrows.

“I have never made so many steam buns in my whole life,” she continued, “We made five hundred pork steam-buns and handed them out free to the students and common folks, mostly from other provinces.”

“We did that earlier. We handed out free bottled water to the students.” Little Pea wanted to assure her mother they did not just stay at home, loitering.

“Did you see students run through the police line?” asked Pumpkin.

“No, we were at a corner near a truck-load of soldiers,” said Little Pea.

“We kept feeding them soda. So they could forget about fighting,” said Yu Gang.

“It was. . .was so easy to.. .to pass through po. . .police line. They.. .they just surrendered. It’s.. .it’s like the.. .the games we play at.. .at school.” Potatofeet tried to get people’s attention.

“Come on. You did not see that. I was in a tree and told you what was going on.” Broomstick wanted to be the ultimate source of information.

“Who says the police has surrendered.” Lao Liu, the policeman, came back from work.

“Hey, the bad policeman is back. Let’s beat him!” Broomstick jumped at Lao Liu, followed by Potatofeet. They each took one of Lao Liu’s arms and twisted them to his back. Little Pea was giggling.

“Okay, okay. Beat me, kill me. I’m a bad policeman. I’m a government’s running dog.” Lao Liu bent forward, pretending to be captured.

“Don’t be too mean to Lao Liu. We know he can’t hurt anyone.” Pumpkin pulled them apart.

“Thank you, thank you all. I know my dear neighbors will trust me. It’s really no fun to be a policeman today. I took an easy job over Xianmen. Not much was going on until 3:00pm, because students didn’t come in from that direction. Then people swarmed in. We resisted a little at first. Then it became impossible, and our commander told us to give up completely. The worst of all was that people constantly cursed us, and threw stones and bottles at us. We were treated like shit. This is the worst day of my career. Look at my uniform.” He took off his white summer uniform and showed it to everyone. It was no longer white but instead full of dirt and layers of sweat, and dyed with pink and yellow soda stains. “Tomorrow I’ll probably call in sick.”

“Oh, I think you should have joined the students a long time ago,” said Pumpkin.

“No, I don’t think I can do it in my profession.”

“You, coward!”

“Hey, that’s enough, old woman!” Lao Liu walked away to his own home. In a while he came out with a bottle of beer in his hand. He sat on the steps in front of his apartment door, drinking.

Pumpkin put her radio in the yard still playing the Beijing Opera. Nothing on the radio was about the event in the Tiananmen Square, and all over the city Beijing.

Little Pea and Yu Gang left for the Square. Pumpkin began washing clothes in the yard.

“Lao Liu, what do you think of this student movement?” asked Pumpkin.

“I don’t know,” said Lao Liu. He sunk into a meditative state again, eyes closed, body frozen, elbows resting on stretched legs. It was hard to say whether he was listening to Pumpkin or not.

“I think our country needs a change,” said Pumpkin.

“That’s not easy. It’s not up to us.”

“You really sound like an old-dude. What is happening now in the Tiananmen Square has shown our people’s power.”

Lao Liu did not answer. The number of people who turned out in the square today amazed him. But he also knew they were ordered not to fight because the central government was split on the decision about how to deal with the students. They hoped to scare students by threatening them through the radio warnings. Obviously it did not work. He could not predict what would happen next. He was aware the direness of the situation. After being through so many ups and downs, he hoped he would survive once again. Pumpkin had a lovely naivety. As merely a cook, she was not sophisticated enough to know the consequences. He wished he could warn them sometimes. But right now he did not want to. He had enough of it today.

Lao Liu’s daughter Lili came back with a college student-like young man. He was a stout young man about twenty years old with a big round swarthy face and solid upper body. His short-sleeved shirt and blue jeans were stained and creased.

“Hi, Father. I’m glad you’re home. This is Xiao Dong. He’s a student from Nankai University and has been in Tiananmen Square since last night. So I invited him home to have dinner with us and wash himself.”

As Lili introduced the young man, Lao Liu noticed a red flush swept through her face. This was her first time ever to bring a young man home. She was too shy to do so before. He really cared about the students. He wished they knew the seriousness of the situation, thought Lao Liu.

“I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap. You can wait for your mother to come back and cook something for you.” Lao Liu went inside.

“Lili, why don’t you come to have dinner with us in a while?” Pumpkin said loudly so Lao Liu could hear it, too.

“Thank you, Auntie.”

“No problem. I always like to help students.”

“Are you going to cook again tonight?”

“Yes. Little Pea is busy nowadays. It’s nice to see her so happy. She’s really excited about what is going on in the Square. So it doesn’t matter if I end up doing a little more work at home.”

Pumpkin finished putting soap on the clothes. She took out the garments one by one, squeezed out the water, and threw them into another rusty tin washbasin. Then she carried the big heavy wooden basin with the soapy water in it gradually toward the sink and poured the water out. Turning on the tap, she began rinsing the clothes. She worked hard. A mist of sweat covered her forehead. The faded shirt and black pants she wore were wet.

Because of the large number of people in the nearby Square, the temperature in the whole area had risen dramatically. The usual blessing of a breeze had been held off. The summer seemed to come early this year. The air was still and humid as though in a bathhouse.

“The weather is not helping much. What a shame!” Pumpkin sighed and wiped her forehead with her soapy elbow.

“God Damn right!” The neighbor Mrs. Wang came back with her four sons. It looked like she just went out and caught them one by one, because their faces were stretched tight and they were extremely quiet. Whenever there was chaotic activity going on, she locked her family in the house so she wouldn’t have to worry about them. Today, she was obviously not happy because her husband Mr. Wang was not home yet. “All come here!” Mrs. Wang yelled at four boys, from the youngest, the seven-year old, and to the oldest, the fifteen-year old. They all wore white shirts and blue pants. Mrs. Wang poured some heated water into a basin to get ready to wash the four boys’ hair. The boys were waiting in line, nervously waiting for the treatment. After the powdered shampoo dissolved in the water, Mrs. Wang pushed the youngest boy’s head into the basin.

“Don’t move!” She jerked his body. “Lower your head!” The boy obeyed. “Why are you so stiff?”

After two minutes of rubbing and scratching, she pushed him away and pushed another boy’s head into the same soapy water, and then another until she cleaned each one of them. She changed to some fresh water and rinsed their hair several times in the same order they were washed. Before everything was done, Mr. Wang walked in slowly. His square-faced and gray-haired head was drooping as if he had done something wrong.

“Ha. .ha, you come back. Where have you been?” said Mrs. Wang.

“I stopped by Tiananmen Square and helped the police to direct traffic. I could not stand the chaos. Chaos always makes me nervous. Why can’t they find a better way to solve the problems?” said Mr. Wang quietly, a little ashamed of what he had done.

“Good Lord, when did you become such a nice person?”

“I don’t think the police are bad. I can’t bear to see people throw stones at them.”

“You shouldn’t be there in the first place.” Mrs. Wang pulled a boy’s wet hair to release her anger.

“Ow….” The boy cried.

“Be quiet!” She pushed the boy’s head back to the basin and almost choked him.

Mr. Wang sighed, went inside of their apartment and came out with a tobacco pipe in his hand. He sat on a stool and started smoking. Mrs. Wang still kept lecturing him.

“You are too nice, and you like to wipe other people’s asses. And you don’t realize you’re the one who eventually would get hurt.”

It seemed that Mr. Wang and Mrs. Wang’s were perfectly matched in their marriage. Their life together consisted of Mrs. Wang’s endless lecturing and Mr. Wang’s non-stop smoking. Recently the balance had been tipped. Mr. Wang stood up.

“Stop, would you!” He went over and grabbed Mrs. Wang’s shoulder, shaking. “I have had enough of this! I have had enough of this!”

“What? You want to beat me?” Mrs. Wang shook water off her hands and sat down on the ground, crying and hitting the ground repeatedly with her fists. “You want to get rid of me, eh... You want to get rid of me. Okay, I’m leaving. I’m leaving. You can cook for yourself. You can clean the room yourself. And you can take care of your sons.”

“Get up, bitch!” Mr. Wang tried to drag her up by pulling her shirt collar. But Mrs. Wang hit his chest repeatedly with her small bony fists. Mr. Wang slapped her on the face several times. “You get out of here, bitch!”

Pumpkin rushed over and tried to separate them. Instead she was the one who got hit the most. The fat on her body helped to absorb the hits. Finally with the help of Marshmallow, the fight stopped. The four boys had long disappeared. Mrs. Wang went inside and Mr. Wang resumed his smoking.

At this moment in another corner of the courtyard, Lili’s mother Wu Zheng was talking with Lili and her new college student friend. As an administrator in the local government, she was a serious woman with short straight hair and a nice kind face.

“We understand how you students feel. We in the Government would like to work with you to achieve your goals,” said Wu Zheng earnestly.

“I know. We like to work with our government too. That’s why we try to keep our whole movement peaceful, non-violent and not to disturb the traffic. We also try to communicate with the government by sending our representatives to deliver our requests.” His eyes behind the white-framed glasses opened very big.

“That sounds reasonable.”

“But we haven’t got any reply yet. The government seems to think we are too insignificant to talk with. That’s why things have become a little more chaotic.”

“You know, the high-ranking officials are busy. It takes time for them to decide anything and takes even longer for them to reply to you.”

“But our country has waited for thirty years,” said Xiao Dong passionately.

“Yes, you are right. We need to be more efficient to gain back the lost time.”

Lili rested her head on her right hand listening attentively.

“Hi, mother. I hope I’m not too late to cook dinner.” Little Pea and Yu Gang returned and saw Pumpkin working hard in the yard.

“No, I’m going to cook today,” said Pumpkin while hanging clothes on the clothesline in the yard.

“Why?”

“Because I want you young people to do something more important.”

“Mother, we are back. It’s too crowded over there.” Little Pea picked up a bok choy and went over to the sink to wash.

“Ok, you prepare it and I’ll cook.” Pumpkin went inside and Marshmallow sat in front of their apartment, reading the newspaper. He frowned and said, “The Newspaper is actually telling the truth nowadays.”

“Really?” asked Little Pea. She was busy with chopping the pork loin into ground pork.

Yu Gang strolled behind Marshmallow and glanced over his shoulder to read the newspaper. “Ha, ha..” he laughed, “nothing on the demonstration. They are still talking about everyone is working hard for the socialist system.”

When Little Pea finished chopping ground pork, she cleaned some green beans and bok choy. Yu Gang helped light up the coal stove, and Pumpkin cooked.

In a while the yard was full of smell of meatball soup, stir-fried vegetables and steamed rice. The radio was playing a Peking Opera as usual. The stir-fry smoke mixed with the melody of the Peking Opera lingered over the yard like an invisible roof.

Putting a small dining table and a few stools in the yard, Little Pea realized her brothers were not there. “I’m going to look for Broomstick and Potatofeet.”

Just outside of the yard Little Pea found Potatofeet sitting against the wall crying. His clubfeet twisted outward, laying flat on the dirt. Tears streamed out of his puffy eyes and rolled down on his swollen cheeks. Saliva leaked out of corners of his mouth.

“Broom. . .Broomstick is.. . is gone,” he murmured.

“Where did he go?”

“He. . .he left with a group of motorcycle guys. They. . . they call themselves...’Flying Tiger...Tiger Brigade.’”

“I see. We’ll find him later. Let’s go in and eat.” Little Pea pulled Potatofeet’s arm, trying to help him get up. She succeeded in the second try. Dragging his clubfeet on the gravel, Potatofeet followed Little Pea into the gate.

People had already sat around the table on little stools. Pumpkin was serving beer from a big tall brown bottle into small tin cups.

“Woo, feel like ice. I just took it out of the refrigerator,” said Pumpkin. She already acted drunk without taking a sip of beer.

Lili and her mother, and her student friend sat among Pumpkin’s family. They were guests. Actually the real guest was Lili’s student friend.

“This is my friend Xiao Dong. He is a student from Nankai University. This is his first time in Beijing and he was impressed by its size, and of course, the hospitality.”

“Thank you.” Xiao Dong nodded. Lao Liu’s police summer uniform did not fit him, a little too big for him, yet his swarthy face and big dark eyes behind his white-framed glasses made him a handsome policeman.

Lili served some dishes for Xiao Dong. Her face was radiant due to the beer and, of course, Xiao Dong. While eating diligently, Wu Zheng watched them once in a while in amusement.

“Let’s cheer for everyone’s happiness, health and prosperity.” Yu Gang bounced his small beer cup against Pumpkin’s, Marshmallow’s and everyone else’s.

“Let’s cheer for our students’ victory in Tiananmen Square!” Pumpkin raised up her beer cup once more.

“Let’s cheer for our country’s bright future!” Wu Zheng cheered. She grinned, took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. Working as an administrator in the city government in charge of propaganda, she rarely showed her emotion. No one said it was an easy job, especially now during a time of confusion. It was hard to comply with the official policy and satisfy people’s demands for reform at the same time. Secondly, she had her husband’s depression to deal with. She knew that her husband’s problem came from his many years of working in the legal system. “I have to play my role every day and I’m tired of it.” He told her this every day. Now he was working on some really tough cases. The Government has realized they were wrong during the Cultural Revolution. They wanted to reverse some cases where they had wrongly prosecuted innocent people during that period. But it was too late in most cases. People had already died or became crazy. Daily dealing with these sad cases had turned him into a moody person. She thought of herself. She had to go to work tomorrow. God knows what was waiting for her to do. She hoped it was not something too difficult. Although her boss was a nice person, they never could predict or change the official policy. Anyway, she had to capture this moment to be happy. She swallowed half cup of beer and became more talkative.

Taking another sip of beer, Wu Zheng said, “My husband is a softy. He has never hurt anybody. He has helped many people secretly in his life. He just does not boast about it. Whenever something happens, he is the one who suffers the most. He has told me that no matter what happens, he would never kill a student,” not realizing that she had revealed a secret which might cause her husband Lao Liu trouble.

“Really? I should go and offer my apologies to him. We scorned him when he came back from work. I thought he didn’t look like one of those goddamn cowardly policemen,” said Pumpkin loudly.

The sun dropped below the roofline and the night reached every corner of the yard. Under the dim overhead light hanging down from the porch ceiling, the party was still on. Like bugs circulating around the light, everyone was still in high spirits. Broomstick was back, telling everyone about his adventure with “The Flying Tiger Brigade.”

“Exciting! They are exciting guys, really. Wild, gee, they are wild too.” In a big hurry, he did not have time to form his sentence.

“What did you do?” asked Little Pea.

“Em... Let’s see... We transported sick students home. We are messengers for the headquarters of different universities and we are guards to watch for the police coming.” He was so excited as though he was living in his dream world. “It’s just like the chase games we played when we were young, except this time it’s for real.”

Mr. and Mrs. Wang and their sons were eating in the dark. Everyone was very quiet and no one bothered to turn on the overhead porch light in front of apartment doors. The boys fought occasionally, but soon their angry mother stopped them.

A cat had been sleeping on the porch railing for quite a while. Awakened, she found Mr. Wang’s family sitting in the dark as though they were dead. She sauntered in front of the table and jumped in front of the soup bowl. Before dipping her head into the soup, she felt a blow on her head. She leaped forward and tipped over the soup bowl. The soup flooded the table and dripped onto the youngest boy’s pants.

“Ah. . .Ah...” He cried.

“You damn cat!” Mrs. Wang chased the cat into the yard.

The boys disappeared in a minute. Mr. Wang stayed there for a moment, and then lit his pipe. The party in front of the Pumpkin’s apartment was not disturbed until Zhang Ping came back.

“This is crazy! Oh, this is crazy!” Rushing in from outside with her son, she appeared to be angry. “Do you believe it? Do you believe it? The Police have put me in detention in a hot van for five hours.”

“Why? I can’t believe they did that to you. People shouldn’t let them. Students shouldn’t let them,” said Pumpkin.

“But they did it to me, they did it to me!” Zhang Ping screamed. “They told everyone I was crazy. How could I behave normally when I was desperately looking for my husband?” She waved her arms in the air randomly.

“Did you find Dagong?”

“No, I haven’t seen a trace of him since this morning. How can I find him among thousands in the square? But I’m sure he knows some Beijing University students. So I looked for them. The police said that they didn’t believe me to have such a young student husband. I told them my husband was not a student, but he was with them. They thought I was lying. They thought I was following the Beijing University students. What a shame! I quarreled with them, and they put me in detention.” She sat on the porch steps by her door, sighing like a dog. Her perm hair was wild, the tiny pigtail hardly visible. Her long bony face looked sad, yet her protruding front teeth made her appear more vicious than sad.

“Zhang Ping, don’t worry. Such a big man, he wouldn’t get lost. He’s probably like you, and got stuck somewhere for some crazy reason. It’s strange though. I have never known him to be interested in this sort of thing.” While trying to comfort Zhang Ping, Pumpkin found herself questioning the reason behind Dagong’s absence.

“He often talks about politics with my husband.” Wu Zheng said.

“But, he is always very reserved,” argued Pumpkin. Then the porch lights went off and the party was over.

Zhang Ping was the last on sitting in the yard. She stayed in the dark for a while, watching the sky, which was very clear. Occasionally, she could hear the rattling sound of leaves waving in the wind. The crickets’ buzzing added a soprano to this huge orchestra. Looking at the bright stars in the sky, she thought of an ancient myth --- the love story between a cowboy and a weaver. They were so far apart that they could only see each other once a year. But they loved each other and kept staring in each other’s direction every day. Zhang Ping never missed her husband so badly before. They had never been apart. Dagong was such a stable person that she never had to worry about his whereabouts. He came back home from work every day at about the same time. Then she would cook the dinner with his help. Sometimes he cooked and she assisted. After dinner, he would talk with neighbors in the yard while she did some sewing. She was aware that he might be too good for her. He was so handsome and so educated. Unfortunately such a nice and smart man grew up in a capitalist’s family, which was considered the worst kind of family background. As a man of power in the Beijing Automobile Parts factory, her father had discovered Dagong in a park where he was working as a janitor, and gave him a job. She married him because she adored him. And she still did, no matter what kind of family he came from. She considered their life together as a good life. And just like her parents, their life had been peaceful. They seldom quarreled with each other. And better than her parents, she and Dagong shared more housework together. During the weekend, she and Dagong would go shopping, or spend a day in the park, taking pictures and rowing. Maybe they did not openly show their affection to each other by kissing and hugging in public like some of those people in foreign movies. Behavior like that was for young people. That was for people who were dating, not for old couples like they were. That was not what a marriage was about. Marriage was about dealing with daily life. Maybe that was not what it was like for foreigners. But they were different. Dagong seemed satisfied with her until recently. He became short-tempered lately. Maybe she pushed him too hard to study. But like everyone else she wanted more out of her life now than before, because there was a chance now to have a better life. She wanted to see Dagong go abroad, make a lot of money, and take her and Little Turnip to see the world. Sometimes she wished she could go to school to understand Dagong better. But it was too late. She had no chance to go to college. Why worry? God knows where he was now. She suddenly felt so cold. She began shivering and goose bumps appeared on her body. The moon hid behind the cloud now. It was so dark and almost mysterious. Suddenly she was frightened. Evil thoughts came at her from all directions, trying to swallow her. Holding Little Turnip on her arms, she went inside. She sat on the bed, frozen.

“Where is Father?” asked Little Turnip. It sounded he said this in his dreams.

Zhang Ping did not answer.

“Is he in America?” asked Little Turnip again.

“No, farther than that.” said Zhang Ping.

Chapter 10

As Baiyun walked toward the News Center in the morning of May 3rd, she heard on the loud speaker:

“The government has rejected the United Student Federation’s request for a dialogue. Instead the government put together a group of students who were selected by the government, complacent and uncritical of the government. This is unacceptable. The real student federation will organize a May 4th march tomorrow to protest government’s insincerity.”

She opened the door and saw Li Yan talking on the phone and two others sitting by a table busy typing. Many layers of loose papers were strewn about the table. Dishes with half-eaten food were piled up on the corner of the table and the windowsill along with many ceramic tea and coffee cups.

“Hello, busy reporters!” Baiyun stepped in and stamped her feet since nobody bothered to look up when she opened the door.

“Baiyun, what do you have?” said Li Yan after putting the phone call on hold. “I’m taking donations from people from all over the world.

“Yes. I have secured support from the workers for our May 4th March. My friend Dagong is organizing workers to join us as our ‘bodyguards’. Also have you heard of the ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’?”

“Yes. They transmit the news at lightning speed,” said Li Yan with raised eyebrows. “You’ve got their support, too?”

“Sure. My mother is the head of it,” said Baiyun a little proud also a little embarrassed,

“Wow. Great. Any details?”

“Yes. The workers will meet us here outside the Beida and march along with us. ‘The Flying Tiger Brigade’ will join us at the Three Ring Road near the Friendship hotel.”

“I will announce this to the public and it will be a huge boost to the moral! Thank you for the good work.” Li Yan returned to her phone conversation.

Baiyun handed a piece of paper that had an article she wrote last night to one of the writers. The writer thanked her and made a V sign with his index finger and middle finger. She V-signed him, too.

When she went outside the four-story student dormitory, reporters from ABC, BBC, CNN, The Chinese Daily, The Oriental Daily and The Hong Kong Daily News surrounded a few student leaders including Longfe and Yumei.

As soon as she stopped trying to be an observer, a reporter from The New York Times came over and put the microphone in front of her mouth.

“Do you want to say something to the world?” The reporter, a Chinese American who had sleek black hair and black square glasses, said in an accented Chinese.

At this moment, a voice came over from Longfe that overshadowed everyone else.

“I have an announcement to make. The government refuses to talk to us so far no matter how hard we have tried. Instead they are calling us a handful of unlawful individuals with ulterior motives have used the grief of students to create turmoil. So the Beida Student Federation has decided that we will march to the Tiananmen Square tomorrow to celebrate the seventieth anniversary of the May 4th movement. Beijing University students had led this historical event that helped to take back our Shandong province from the hands of Germans and Japanese. Today we will need this spirit more than ever. Using this occasion, we will show our sincerity for dialogue and we are not just ‘a handful of unlawful individuals to create turmoil’. We are a group of organized students and citizens wanting to have a peaceful talk with the government.”

The crowd cheered. “Yes. The government is by the people and for the people!”

A short young man whom Baiyun recognized was Xia Nan, the head of the communist party at the Economics Department, stepped in. “The school officials have asked me to convey this message to you. If the class boycott continues, it would be very hard for them to support you. If another demonstration happens tomorrow, you will definitely lose your chance to have a dialogue with the government and you will have to bear the consequences.” His voice was calm but chilling. The crowd went silent.

Baiyun tried hard to move forward. She felt like saying something. But Big Li had beaten her to the front.

“Let’s not give into government’s pressure. In a democratic society, demonstration is our right. This is our first step toward having a democratic society. So it is our condition for a dialogue with the government. Long live democracy! Long live freedom!” The crowd cheered with him.

Longfe stepped over. He gathered up Big Li, Yumei, and a few other student leaders. “Let’s have a meeting to decide about the demonstration tomorrow. Baiyun, you should come to this meeting as a News Center reporter.”

The crowd scattered and Longfe led a few students into the dormitory building. As they walked in the corridor toward the News Center, Baiyun noticed a few students in a dormitory shaving each other’s heads and writing their wills. She nudged Yumei.

“See. How do you think we could stop the rally?” Baiyun said and dragged Yumei to the room where these students were. One of them with a half-shaved head showed them his will on the back of a T-shirt written with red ink: “I join the student movement because I love my country. I’m not a counterrevolutionary and a lawless agitator. Please understand my actions.”

“Do you really think that you might die?” asked Baiyun. She was a little shaken by this. All this time, she was immersed in the class boycott and excitement of seeing Dagong. Shedding blood, is that possible? She asked herself.

“Let’s go,” said Yumei as though she had thought through all these potential perils.

“Wait. Let’s me write this down in my notebook so we can broadcast it from our radio station.” Baiyun wrote down the message written on the T-shirt and left with Yumei.

They entered a room next to the News Center. The room had four bunk beds with two on each side. As Baiyun entered, the smell of food and dirty laundry welcomed her. They managed to squeeze in between Longfe and Big Li in one of the lower bunks. Several had to climb up to upper bunks since the lower bunks had been taken.

“What do you all think? Should we offer a compromise?” asked Longfe.

Yumei stared at him and punched him on the arm, “Are you crazy? Did you see the students next door? They are shaving their heads and ready to die.”

“It’s too late to inform the Beijing Worker’s Union not to join us,” said Baiyun. She was looking forward to marching along with Dagong. She couldn’t imagine going back to the classroom anymore, at least not for a while. The genie is out of the bottle, she was telling herself. She heard this expression from a foreign journalist and liked it. She was not sure about the “Flying Tiger Brigade” due to Meiling. But she couldn’t worry so much. Actually she was a little proud of her mother.

“We can show the government that we are serious about the dialogue,” said Longfe calmly. “I mean we can offer our compromise by only marching to the Third Ring Road and then turn back, only a third of way to Tiananmen Square.”

“But the genie is out of the bottle. Who can stop it?” Baiyun blurted out. She couldn’t believe she was the one who wants to break the school’s regulations.

“Yes. I support Baiyun. She is right. At this point, there is no way we could stop the rally tomorrow. Let’s fight fire with fire!” Big Li shouted. His shaved head looked shining under the sunlight that crept through the window.

“Ok. I will tell the school official that the rally is on and we will try to turn back at the Third Ring Road but no guarantee,” said Longfe. Then he stood up and went to the center of the room. “The rally is on!” He extended his hand and others joined in. One after another, their hands piled up one by one to agreement. As Baiyun put her hand in, her heart beat fast. She envisioned a new life and a different kind of life ahead of her, for which she might be willing to sacrifice her life. She closed her eyes and asked herself, has she gone mad?

Early in the morning, Baiyun was awakened by noise of people whispering in the room.

“Yumei and Li Yan. Why didn’t you wake me up?” said Baiyun. She really didn’t want to miss this rally.

“You are awake. Shuuu.” Li Yan put her fingers on her lips. “Be quiet. Wenjing is still sleeping.”

“Is she going?” asked Baiyun.

“No. She is sick.”

“Ya. I’m not surprised,” whispered Baiyun.

“That’s the official answer,” said Wenjing sticking out her head from under the blanket. She had short bobbed hair and her smooth round face looked pale. “I seriously think you guys are totally crazy. You will be rolled over by tanks and be forgotten.” She put her head back under the blanket and started snoring.

“Wow. What an inspirational speech!” said Yumei and then looked at Baiyun and Li Yan whispering. “She is a total coward. Let’s leave her rotting in bed.”

After brushing their teeth and packing up some water and snacks, they raced to the men’s dormitory #28. Of course, they couldn’t move very fast. Several thousand students were lined up in the space between women’s dormitory #31 and men’s dormitory #28 by the north gate. They could barely see Longfe and Big Li in the front holding flags but it was impossible to get there. Baiyun was on tiptoes looking for Dagong but to no avail. They followed the sea of people after a student with a loudspeaker announced, “Let’s march.”

As soon as they marched out of the Beida gate, journalists, photographers, and camera crews for TV stations followed them. Then Baiyun’s eyes lit up. She saw the sign saying “Beijing Worker’s Union.” “That’s Dagong.” She yelled and then turned to Yumei and Li Yan, “Bye. I have to run because I told Dagong I would join him in the march.”

“No wonder, you have been so happy lately. You have a boyfriend, don’t you?” Yumei teased her.

“Of course, that’s always the reason,” said Li Yan mater-of-fact.

Baiyun waved at them pretending not hearing what they said. Her anticipation of seeing Dagong had overwhelmed her while fighting her way toward the “Beijing Worker’s Union” crowd. This crowd was easy to identify because they were a small group of muscular workers wearing black T-shirts, black workpants and white headbands stating “Democracy”. They did look like a group of intimidating bodyguards. Baiyun spotted six-foot tall Dagong right away. He was carrying a red flag with white print of “Democracy in China Now”. In order not to disturb him, Baiyun decided to sneak in and follow Dagong secretly. A few workers tried to ask her why she was there. She put her fingers across her mouth to indicate that they should be quiet. Of course, that didn’t last long. A few workers started chuckling quietly. Dagong turned around and saw Baiyun. He halted and called out, “Baiyun.” Then he tried to embrace her, which interrupted the whole flow of the worker’s union group. He pulled Baiyun to the side after giving his flag to a worker and telling them to go on.

They stood under a tree holding each other’s hands staring at each other. Although it had been three days since they saw each other, they still remembered where they had left off. Dagong had left her alone that day in the middle of Tiananmen Square without a proper kiss-good-bye.

For Dagong, this was the moment he had been anticipating for two days since he last saw her. Logically this beautiful, but nerdy girl with complicated family background had intrigued him. He wanted to know her more and understand her more, most of all, spend more time with her, alone. Emotionally, he just wished he could kiss her right here under this tree pretending not to notice people on the street, especially now when Baiyun was gazing at him with her two big innocent eyes. She looked so beautiful with her two brown eyes under two thick eyebrows, her red lips and her blushed smooth slightly freckled face. The small mole on her face next to her nose was definitely an enhancement for her. Yet, did he deserve her? Maybe 23 years ago he did when he was fresh out of high school and just about to enter the famous Beijing University. He didn’t now when he was old and married with a son. How would he tell her all that? How would she react to this? He didn’t have answers for all these questions. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop seeing her. It was a time of change. Maybe his life would change dramatically soon.

He gave Baiyun a hug. Baiyun naturally fell into his chest and buried her head in it. Then she looked up at him. Their faces were so close to each other. After a seemingly an eternity, Dagong broke away and said, “Let’s catch up with the others.” He held onto Baiyun’s left hand and started running and shoving through the crowd. Baiyun was a little disappointed after her anticipation of a passionate kiss from him. She hoped it would come later at a more appropriate time. She was grateful that it didn’t happen in public. She hated to be seen in public especially when Meiling could show up any minute and Lao Zheng would then take her home on his hideous motorcycle. She was so excited to be a part of this movement along with Dagong. With Dagong she ran toward the “Beijing Worker’s Union” banner. As she was running, the cold wind swept through her face. She galloped and if not for Dagong’s tight grip of her hand, she felt she could leap over the crowd. No one could stop her. They tried to run in the wooded area next to the road where it was not so crowded.

“Wow, you are fast,” exclaimed Dagong who looked at Baiyun passionately.

“Of course.” Baiyun stared him back with a big smile. How heavenly this was, she said to herself.

It didn’t take long before they caught up with the “Beijing Worker’s Union” group. Dagong and Baiyun took over a banner stating “Democracy in China Now” and marched in the front row. A middle-aged worker pointed to Baiyun and said, “Good for you, Dagong. You even recruited a girl for our team. What boost for our morale!” Dagong nodded happily to him.

The street was getting very crowded. Thousands of Beijing citizens left work and school joining the march. Some climbed up to trees shouting, “We love you, students!” “We support you whole heartedly!” When they were approaching the Three Ring Road, students from other universities like “Qinghua University” and “Beijing College of Economics and Politics” joined them. The common folks were lining the street cheering and hitting pots and pans. When everyone was in high spirits, the march screeched to a halt. A row of policemen in crisp green uniform and red stars on their hats above visors stood in front of the demonstrators facing them. Each of them carried a club. A pistol was visible at their sides. Their faces were emotionless.

“Let me talk to them,” Longfe squeezed forward with a loud speaker.

He walked toward one of the police in the middle followed by Big Li and Yumei.

“Should we go and back him up,” whispered Baiyun to Dagong. She was worried about Longfe, Big Li, and especially Yumei. She knew how ruthless these policemen could be.

“Not yet,” said Dagong. Involuntarily, Dagong inched forward a few steps ready to leap over come to the aid of the students.

Longfe stopped about a meter before the middle policeman who moved forward a few steps. He saluted to Longfe and Longfe saluted back.

“We students are marching peacefully. Would you please let us go by?”

“You have to guarantee to march orderly with no destruction of public property,” said the policeman.

Longfe turned back to the crowd and asked, “Can we promise not to destroy any public property?”

“Yes.” The crowd said in unison.

“Do we want to turn back to our universities?”

“No.”

Longfe turned back to the policeman. The policeman nodded and indicated the other policemen to open the road.

“Victory!” The crowd roared. More people were joining the march now. When they were passing the Friendship Hotel, students from “Beijing Normal University” and “Beijing Agricultural University” joined in. They had taken over the entire street. The street traffic had virtually been stopped. Buses and even bicycles had been paralyzed in place. Another wall of policemen stopped the flow of the demonstrators. Before Longfe could go forward to talk to the police, a few students from “Beijing Normal University” broke through the line by sneaking through between policemen.

“Peace, peace,” yelled Longfe with the loud speaker. The policemen somehow believed Longfe and opened up the road.

“The policemen are so civilized,” commented Baiyun. Her face was red with excertion and her pink sweater was soaked with sweat. Yet her spirit was high. She held the banner and was writing the best episode of her life.

“Don’t be happy too early,” warned Dagong. Being older, he was much more cautious. Yet he could do nothing but follow the sea of people. He thought this display of tolerance by the government was only temporary. He had seen these situations happen many times before. During the 1957 anti-rightest movement when he was very little, the government encouraged people to criticize the government. In the end, the people who were honest and dared to stick their necks out were thrown into jail for life. It happened merely thirty-two years ago. The old saying was that it takes a generation to forget about things like that. What was in these people’s mind? The students were young and wouldn’t have witnessed the anti-rightest campaign. Hadn’t their parents told them? Hadn’t they heard from the news? Hadn’t they learnt from their history lessons? They must have gone mad including him. What is a human life worth in China anyway?

As they were moving forward, Baiyun noticed they were approaching Tiananmen Square. The sun had hidden itself behind the clouds temporarily. The cool breeze swept through people along with some dust, which was normal for the Beijing Spring. She heard people started to shout different slogans like “We love the People’s Liberation Amy!” and “The People’s Liberation Amy loves People!” She glanced around. She experienced a bone-chilling shiver, which would typically only happen in winter. Soldiers equipped with rifles were posted everywhere. Some stood in a row along both sides of the Changan Avenue. Some were marching in the distance.

“Dagong, did you see the armed soldiers? Am I hallucinating?” asked Baiyun.

“No. They are real,” said Dagong solemnly. “We should be very careful.” He added.

As they were talking, the march stopped suddenly at the intersection of the Changan Avenue and Xidan Avenue. Looking ahead, Baiyun could see a huge wall of soldiers ahead of them blocking the road. Big Li ventured forward and tried to run through the imposing barrier, only to see him fail this time. Two soldiers crossed their riffles in front of him trying to push him away. The more the soldiers tried to block him; the more he tried to push forward. Longfe and another student tried to pull Big Li back.

“Let’s turn around, Big Li. We have done more than enough,” said Longfe. Big Li struggled and still pushed forward.

“We are almost there. Ten more steps, we are in Tiananmen Square.” A soldier hit Big Li on the head, grabbed his arms and twisted them behind him.

“The People’s army loves people,” said Longfe calmly. “Please let him go. We will turn around.” A soldier clubbed Longfe on the shoulder with his rifle butt.

Dagong jumped forward to the soldiers. “Don’t hit the students. Hit me. I’m guilty of encouraging them to go forward.” He waved his fist in front of the soldier. A soldier pulled him over and started beating him with his rifle butt. Other workers joined in to fight the soldiers. Some of the workers shielded students away.

Seeing Dagong was getting hurt, Baiyun cried out, “Dagong.” She ran toward him but quickly blocked by a worker. “Crazy girl. You will be hurt.” The workers, true to their pledge to work as bodyguards, got together and formed a shield between the soldiers and students.

“The People’s Army loves people,” chanted citizen on the streets.

“Stop hurting the students. Be on the winning side!”

“Down with the corrupted government!”

“Free Press. Democracy in China!”

Once again, the sheer mass of the people’s power overwhelmed the army. The clouds moved aside as well as the soldiers and the sun was shining once again. People swarmed into the vast square.

“Dagong.” Baiyun broke loose from the worker who restrained her from going forward. Lying on the ground surrounded by many students and workers was Dagong. Blood was streaming down from his forehead and one of his eyes was swollen. Baiyun knelt by him and wept.

“He tried to protect us. So he got the most hits,” cried a young worker.

“I’m a doctor and I can take care of him,” said a middle-aged woman in a white coat with a stethoscope draped softly over her shoulders.

“Please take care of him first,” whispered Dagong while pointing his hand toward the other worker lying with blood dripping off the edge of his mouth.

“I can do both. I need to take care of you first since you have a head wound,” said the doctor.

She put antiseptic on Dagong’s wounds and wrapped them with bandages, and then she went to take care of the other wounded worker. Baiyun held Dagong to her chest and fed him some water. Dagong gazed at her, and to him, she looked exceptionally beautiful at that moment. Dagong smiled. He could never find anything better than this, to be held and nursed by Baiyun. He wished this moment would last forever.

“De, De, De.” The sound of motorcycles approaching could be heard. Meiling sitting on the back seat of Lao Zheng’s motorcycle, Broomstick and two other young men on scooters were slowly approaching as the gathered crowd opened up a path for them.

“Baiyun, are you Ok? My poor daughter.” Meiling jumped off the slowly moving motorcycle, tripped and almost fell. She ran to Baiyun, kneeling and holding her face.

“Mother, I’m fine. Look at my friend. He’s the one you should be concerned about.” Baiyun shoved Meiling away and felt embarrassed.

“Ok. We can take him home. Do you live close by?” asked Meiling.

“Yes.” Dagong tipped his face toward the side and closed his eyes.

“Dagong, what a hero. I’m proud of you.” Broomstick squeezed his skinny body through wall of people. “I can take you home. Ok?” He said as he squatted by Baiyun and said in a soft voice. Dagong nodded.

Dagong didn’t want to go home. He wished that he could just die here. But fate didn’t give him the easiest solution. Now he had to go home to face his wife Zhang Ping and his son Little Turnip. Baiyun would find out everything. Even worse, Zhang Ping would discover everything. But his head hurt and his whole body was in pain. He could do nothing but oblige.

Broomstick and another worker helped to carry Dagong onto the back of Broomstick’s scooter. Broomstick jumped on and tried to ride away from the narrow path opened by the bystanders. Baiyun persuaded a young man to carry her on the back of his scooter, following Dagong while Lao Zheng and Meiling trailed after.

Chapter 11

The vast Tiananmen Square had been filled with people who were Beijing citizens strolling around, students from many different universities which could be identified by their flags, the foreign journalists and photographers from all over the world and vendors who were selling a variety of food items. Armed, green-uniformed soldiers walked among citizens, who seemed not even slightly afraid. Some even offered water to the soldiers who politely accepted while keeping their solemn facial expressions.

Baiyun sat on the scooter driven by Broomstick’s friend, who was following Broomstick’s scooter toward Dagong’s apartment. The scene on the square puzzled her.

“Why are the citizens not afraid of the army soldiers?” She asked. The image of Dagong’s bloody head was still fresh in her mind.

“Did you hear the loud speaker earlier? It says the General Secretary of the Communist Party Zhao Ziyang is on the student’s side. He spoke favorably about us in an Asian Development Bank meeting so the soldiers must be told not to hurt the demonstrators anymore,” said the young man.

“I heard part of it and wasn’t sure about it. Good. It looks like we will win for sure,” said Baiyun. She liked the sound of this breakthrough. The bright sunshine, the warm weather and speed of the motorcycle made her intoxicated in a sense of victory.

They drove slowly and zigzagged around and through many small crowds. Standing on a wooden box was a young woman with short hair and red shirt. She waved her arms and said, “We are ready to sacrifice our young lives for a better and democratic China.” Many photographers snapped pictures of her.

The idea of sacrifice started sinking into Baiyun’s mind. She no longer thought that her life was too precious to lose after seeing Dagong had shed his blood for the cause. She would always fight alongside Dagong, she told herself.

After a half hour of slow riding, they arrived at Dagong’s hudong. At the entrance, there were water stands, steam-bun stands and even an umbrella stand.

Pumpkin and Marshmallow sat by a pot of steam buns, smiling until they saw Broomstick.

“What happened to the student?” Pumpkin ran toward Broomstick.

“Oh, no. Dagong.” She told Marshmallow to take care of the steam bun stand and chased Broomstick to the apartment. After Broomstick parked the motorcycle, he and Pumpkin on each side assisted Dagong to walk into the courtyard where Zhang Ping and Little Turnip sat eating lunch.

They ran to Dagong and helped him to sit in a chair. Zhang Ping squatted by him planting kisses all over him.

“How did you hurt yourself? Did the police beat you up? Have you forgotten about us? If something happens to you, what should we do?” Zhang Ping stopped kissing and started wailing, which was so loud that it turned the noise from the nearby Tiananmen Square into mere background noise.

“I’m fine. I just feel a little dizzy,” Dagong opened his eyes and held Little Turnip under his arm. Pumpkin brought over some water and handed it to Dagong. Everyone was very quiet, even the cat sat on a bench staring with its two big green eyes.

At this moment, someone broke the silence from outside the yard.

“Stay outside and wait. Why do you have to come in?” Meiling told Lao Zheng. “You don’t even know the man.”

“I want to help. I might be able to help like carrying him around in the yard. Hey, you never know when they will need a big guy like me,” said Lao Zheng. Then he wiped his face said to Meiling, “Are you embarrassed by me?”

“Yes,” answered Meiling. “OK, come in. Just be quiet.”

Meiling and Lao Zheng followed Baiyun into the yard. Something dawned on Baiyun like a light bulb suddenly lit up in her mind after seeing Zhang Ping and Little Turnip surround Dagong crying. “Oh, my God. He is married with a kid.” Her whispered was so low only Meiling could hear her. Being Meiling, she understood the situation as quickly as lightning. She and Baiyun stared at each other for a minute and then she took Baiyun’s hand and pushed Lao Zheng forward out of the yard.

“Let’s go,” said Meiling.

After they got out, Meiling said, “how about we take Baiyun to a restaurant?”

“No, I just want to go home,” said Baiyun.

“Ok. You both jump on the back of my bike,” said Lao Zheng.

In her state of confusion, Baiyun made the worst decision she could make --- to go home. But what else could she do, going back to school and telling Yumei that Dagong was married with a kid? Her friends would laugh their heads off. Yet the decision of going home was still much better than going to a restaurant listening to Meiling’s lecture again. Who knows what’s worse, she said to herself. She didn’t want the most comfortable solution. She just wanted to sort it out or go somewhere far away and cry her eyes out. Sandwiched between Lao Zheng and Meiling, Baiyun didn’t feel better. She leaned on Lao Zheng’s leather jacket pretending to sleep while soaking tears on it.

“What a sneaky guy who dares to steal my daughter’s heart. I hope I can punch him in the face.” Meiling couldn’t stop cursing Dagong.

Baiyun wanted to talk back but was too tired to say anything. Lao Zheng took some shortcuts so in no time they arrived at the Beijing Industrial University, where life was not going on as usual. Instead of rushing back from work on bicycles, people formed small circles by the roadside discussing, debating or simply gossiping. Students marched on the streets holding flags and banners that displayed “Never forget the spirit of May Fourth” and “Fight the Official Corruption”. They were on their way to join the students in Tiananmen Square. Occasionally, people would stop them and offer them tea and homemade steamed buns. They would tell students, “Keep up the good work.” Students would say, “Join us next time.” “Let’s form a Great Wall of people.” The old men and women would nod and smiled whole-heartedly.

They arrived at the apartment. While Lao Zheng parking the motorcycle, Meiling and Baiyun went in first. As soon as they opened the door, they could hear the loud, haunting strains of Mendelssohn’s first violin concerto, which echoed within the small apartment.

“Good, the old man is partying and completely unaware of the demonstration outside,” said Meiling as she and Lao Zheng walked in toward Meiling’s bedroom. Then she stopped and turned toward Baiyun, “we will take a break. After that uncle Lao Zheng will make pot-stickers for you.”

“I’m not hungry,” said Baiyun while leaping over the vegetables in the hallway toward the middle room next to the living room. She could see her father professor Yang and his friend Lee Fe sitting on Father’s bed, facing each other. Lee Fe was playing the violin. His right arm pushed up and down rhythmically, his head moved along passionately and his black-framed glasses had slid down to the tip of his nose due to the sweat. Father stared at him while his old eyes were twinkling and his salt and pepper hair danced as he swayed his head along with the music. On the round dining table next to the bed, there were two half-drank glasses of red wine. Father picked one up and had a sip, “Meow. Meow!”

Baiyun lay down on her bed in the middle room. She could not help looking at the tall bookshelf next to her that contained all the school text books she had ever used including notebooks, final exam papers, and her report cards. Meiling saved everything. Yet the most visible ones were TOFEL books. They were “The Official Guide to the TOFEL Exam”, “TOFEL Essentials”, “Practice Exercises for the TOFEL with Audio CDs” and “400 Must-have Words for the TOFEL”. These reminded Meiling of her derailed attempts to go to America. Maybe Meiling was right to encourage her to go abroad. Maybe she would soon pick up the pieces and try again. She closed her eyes. All she could see was Dagong surrounding by his weeping wife and son. She could see Dagong’s agonized face. She tried to forget about him, even thinking about hating him. Yet she utterly failed. Instead, she was even more curious about him. She wondered why he had never mentioned his wife or even his son to her. She needed to confront him to find out, and sooner rather than later.

“Hey, Baiyun, want something to eat?” A voice woke up Baiyun from her nap. She opened her eyes and saw Lao Zheng standing by the bed with a plate of steamed meat dumplings in his hand. She sat up immediately rubbing her eyes.

“You woke me up,” she protested, yet she couldn’t refuse such good food. However obnoxious, Lao Zheng was a good cook. She took the plate and gobbled down dumplings quickly.

Lao Zheng sat down on the bed and leaned toward Baiyun. He wore a fake smile that would make Baiyun throw up at any moment. His small pea eyes aglow, his crooked teeth exposed. “What do you say? Let’s go out sometime on my motorcycle and have some fun.”

Oh, my God. Here he goes again, Baiyun said. Normally she would get up and rush out of the door in a second. But today she was a very tired and even more confused.

“Ok.” Baiyun kept eating.

“When should we go? Maybe I can take you back to school.” Lao Zheng inched toward Baiyun a little more.

“If you would excuse me, I need to run to the bathroom.” Baiyun stood up, pushed Lao Zheng to the side and squeezed through the gap between the bed and the bookshelf to the bathroom. She slammed the door. In a second, she could hear Meiling yell at Lao Zheng, “What are you doing in there by yourself? Where is Baiyun? Did you scare her away?”

“No. She went to the bathroom.”

Baiyun held her head between her hands trying to think straight. The troops had moved in. Soldiers had been posted everywhere in Tiananmen Square. She needed to get back to school so she could help. She would not be a coward. Even though she might not see Dagong again, she still had many friends and classmates at Beida. Life would still be interesting, she told herself.

After she flushed the toilet and got out of the bathroom, she decided to go to sleep and leave early in the morning. She stuck her head into the living room and saw that both Professor Yang and Lee Fe were so engrossed in the violin playing that they didn’t notice her. They were playing the “Tchaikovsky's First Violin Concerto”. It reminded her of the platonic love affair Tchaikovsky had with his patron and lover Nadezhda von Meck. They never even met each other yet Tchaikovsky could write such romantic music for her. She thought of Dagong and sighed. She cared about him very much. She wished he had kissed her that last time in front of her dormitory. Maybe he would come and see her at Beida. With that thought, she went to bed accompanied by the beautiful music.

In the morning at 8:00 AM, Baiyun got up and ventured to her father’s room. Lee Fe was gone and Father's head lay sideways on the round table, sound asleep. Loud snoring could be heard. The wine glass tipped and soaked through the paper on the table. Under the dim lamplight that burnt through the night, the flushing of his face made him look like a roasted animal.

She gathered up a few things from her room and left without saying farewell to anyone.

Chapter 12

Baiyun returned to her dorm and found Yumei in bed among many blankets, eating lunch.

“Hi, Yumei. Are you sick?”

“No. I’m tired of staying at Longfe’s home. They invited me to stay with them last night. Her parents are hard to deal with. They are typical Pekingese and looked down upon small town people like me.” Yumei yawned and pulled her long and thick hair to the back of her head. Her eyelids were slightly swollen. Her high cheek-boned face had a few new pimples, which were shining under the rays of sunshine from the window. Her naturally oily face was the culprit and the thick lotion she put on sometimes made it worse.

“Where is Longfe?” Baiyun sat on the bed across the table from Yumei.

“His parents want him stay at home for a while. I am not going to wait for him. I am going to do something exciting!” Yumei smiled while putting a dumpling into her mouth.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try to be one of representatives from the chemistry department in the dialogue delegation. I know the head of this organization who is also from my home town.” Yumei sounded very confident.

“Is he that student from the political science department?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great. He is really one of the top student leaders.”

“That’s right. What have you been doing?”

“I have been working for the News Center as a reporter,” said Baiyun modestly.

“I know. I thought you had followed Dagong home after he and some workers had been beaten by the police.”

“Yes. Then my mother’s boyfriend took me home.” Baiyun stood up and wanted to leave before she had to tell her Dagong was married.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. So you didn’t stay with Dagong and take care of him?” Yumei probed further.

“No. There were plenty of help there. What do you think? You think we are husband and wife already?” said Baiyun before stepping out of the door.

As soon as she got back on the street, she heard a major news conference was held in the conference hall. She decided to go there first. When she finally arrived by foot, the conference just started. Students crowded the conference hall as well as the stairs. The hall was extremely quiet except for the speaker and thousands of beating hearts.

“It is time for us to launch a mass hunger strike!” A deep and strong male voice came through the speaker in the hallway where Baiyun stood. “Our conditions for ending such a hunger strike are, the first, the government should officially declare the movement a patriotic action, the second, it should conduct a dialogue with the students. Our movement has been successful up to now. But we have to strive hard to convince the government that we are determined so we can force them to accept our conditions fully and to bring the prodemocracy movement to a complete victory!”

Applause and cheers followed the first speaker. Students in the stairways were stirred too. Everyone tried to push forward to witness this extraordinary event. Baiyun did advance a few steps forward. But she knew it was only because the whole crowd was packed tighter and inching forward. Her armpits and chest were full of sweat. The smell of perspiration around her was suffocating. But she stood there firmly like a flagpole.

“I have an idea.” A young fresh voice came through the microphone. The crowd suddenly calmed down again. “I have been practicing qiqong since I was a child. I have gone on many hunger strikes in order to fight my father. You must master qiqong if you want to survive a prolonged hunger strike. It is the secret to victory. I want to be a hunger striker.” He said to the cheering crowd, “I want you to join me in the hunger strike. I want all of us to practice qiqong!” The crowd laughed out loud.

“Practice qiqong? Maybe we all should go to the Tiananmen Square, practicing qiqong there. Then the government would be happy about us because we would feel so peaceful and forget about the movement.” Baiyun heard somebody in a crowd next to her made the comment. She did not think the hunger strike had been decided yet. It was such a serious matter, which may put people’s lives at risk. The student leaders should at least consult with many people before they made the final decision, Baiyun thought.

“I, Longfe Huang and the rest of the Beida Student Federation have decided that the hunger strike would begin tomorrow. Everyone should feel free to join us.” The crowd turned silent as though they were hit by a blow and was slow to respond. Then she heard several voices announcing their support. Baiyun looked around. Most people were quiet except their necks were stretched longer and their feet were on tiptoes. It seemed that they could actually see the stage from the hallway if they were taller.

Baiyun was not surprised to see Longfe came back from his home this morning. He had grown into a confident student leader. But would she want to be a hunger striker? She was not ready to die yet, Baiyun told herself. She was a girl with dreams. She had worked hard and had high expectations toward the future. She had not experienced so many things in life yet. She wanted to graduate from college and to go to America. She wanted to become a scientist and a writer. Some day she would like to meet a nice young man to fall in love with and to experience real love. With Dagong, she thought she had found true love but it was short-lived. Now she was a bit confused about this relationship. Would this make her want to die? No. She still had to find out Dagong’s mystery. She once told her classmates since she had such a strong will to live, she would try to stay alive even if she had lost all her limbs.

“I will commit suicide if that happens to me,” said Wenjing. The world always looked grayer to this hard-working and intelligent girl.

“Yeck, I couldn’t imagine to live that way,” said Yumei with a smirk. She could even be a pragmatist sometimes.

After that argument, the word “weird” or “crazy” were often used to describe Baiyun, which she didn’t mind at all. In Beijing University, one could be proud to be crazy. But in this moment, Baiyun was not crazy. She knew she didn’t want to die and she was not going to risk her life either. Her own calmness surprised her. She was an adventurous girl now and was easily tempted by new challenges. Maybe she felt more comfortable to remain as an observer. She preferred to join in the hunger strike later in a quieter and less visible fashion. Nevertheless she had not sensed the urgency to start a hunger strike yet. She had a feeling that the organizers of the hunger strike had some unknown reason to announce it today.

At this moment, a tall and muscular man leaped in front of her and pushed forward by literally stepping on top of everyone. In a while, a deep and rather hoarse voice came through the speaker. Baiyun knew that was Big Li.

“I’m here to tell everyone that I want to start a hunger strike. Why am I doing this? It is because I want to see the true face of the government. We are fortunate enough to have parents who raised us to become college students. But it is time for us to stop eating. The government had again lied to us and ignored us. They even sent troops to the Tiananmen Square to scare us and beat us. We only wanted the government to talk with us and to say that we are not traitors. We, the children, are ready to die. We, the children, are ready to use our lives to pursue the truth. We, the children, are willing to sacrifice ourselves for our country’s future.”

Hundreds of pairs of eyes around her were looking forward as though they could see the stage. Baiyun could imagine Big Li’s swarthy face and his two thick-eye-browed eyes. Those two eyes were telling people: Believe me; I was truthful. Baiyun was ashamed of her own selfish thoughts. Big Li’s behavior after the start of the prodemocracy movement was totally a surprise. She was happy to see that a good and nerdy student like Big Li could become a courageous student leader. She was also surprised how much she had changed herself. Two weeks ago, she was still studying hard on TOEFL exam in the library.

Big Li’s words had truly convinced her why it was worthwhile to make such a sacrifice. They were asking the government for dialogue and recognition. Were these two things worth dying for? She didn’t think so. But Big Li’s speech made her realize that the hunger strike was about much more than those two demands. It was about seeing the government’s true face.

The meeting hall was in chaos. More and more students struggled forward to join the hunger striker team. As a member of the News Center, Baiyun decided to apply for the hunger strike reporter job, which was her favorite job. She was beginning to realize that she enjoyed witnessing and recording the important historical events.

When Baiyun was finally pushed out of the conference hall, she met Li Yan from the News Center. They both had to go back to the main campus walking their bicycles, since it was impossible to ride through the crowds. Li Yan agreed Baiyun should follow the hunger strikers to Tiananmen Square tomorrow.

Baiyun thought as she pushed her bicycle in the slow traffic. She noticed it looked quiet on the streets, only students with white headbands rushing around. She guessed that some parents either had already brought their sons or daughters home or had gone home themselves after fruitless effort of persuasion. She could see clusters of students and workers on street corners, looking more intense. As she was approaching the Triangle, she spotted someone familiar, a six-foot tall middle-aged man with a white bandage wrapped around his head and a pair of green sunglasses sitting on his nose bridge. He wore faded gray shirt and blue jeans. He was talking to a group of students.

“The movement has reached a crucial point. The government has refused to talk to the Beida Student Federation after they have asked them repeatedly. Now the Russian president Gorbachev is coming. We, the Beijing Worker’s Union will support the students and jointly stage a Hunger Strike in the Tiananmen Square to show the government that we are serious about our demands of Free Speech and Democracy in China. We want the government stop calling us instigators of illegal activities. We want the government to have dialogue with the students and broadcast it to the whole world.” He lost some weight and looked gaunt yet his voice was loud and full of confidence.

Baiyun was watching and utterly moved by this scene. How could she blame him for cheating her and his wife? Maybe he hadn’t had time to tell her yet. Maybe he was planning to but never had opportunities. A part of her was still very curious about this man who recently just wooed her young love without telling her that he was married. Was she supposed to be mad? She didn’t know what to think. Maybe this was an opportunity to clear it up. She waited for Dagong to finish and then squeezed to the front.

“Dagong.”

“Baiyun.” Surprised, Dagong quickly resumed his composure. “Nice to see you here. What a coincident!”

“What? You are here in the center of my college and think it is impossible to run into me?” Baiyun said and tried to tease him a little.

“You are right. I’m hoping to run into you even though the ‘Hunger Strike’ has bought me here. After we heard that the students are going to start a hunger strike, Beijing Worker’s Union has organized a support team. We will provide the moral and material support. It is nice to see you.”

“This is nice. I thought you were looking for me also.” Baiyun stared into his eyes behind the green sunglasses in order to get more clue of his intention but it was too hard. She decided to do the slow and verbal way.

“We can take a walk here around the campus. I’d like to show you around,” suggested Baiyun. She is quite good at dealing awkward situation like this after years of training at home, she was telling herself.

“Sure, I have some time. Do you want me to take you on my bicycle again? This time you can sit on the front handle bar and lean against my chest like a lover. The back seat is reserved for my wife and son,” said Dagong in a good humor.

“I can’t believe you still make me laugh at this moment. But I don’t feel like it. Let’s just walk,” said Baiyun. “Let’s walk toward the Nameless Lake.”

After Dagong parked his bicycle, they started walking. By 5:00pm, the sun had gradually disappeared behind the trees and buildings. The air turned a little cooler. But the amount of activities on campus had not decreased at all. It would go on until midnight. Nothing normal was happening on campus anymore. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the class boycott with no homework to worry about or tests to prepare for. It was no longer necessary to sit in the library all day long to grow calluses on their bottoms. This new student culture was like a dream coming true and they were enjoying it intensely while organizing their unprecedented prodemocracy movement. They spent their days meeting and talking with people, organizing meetings, having news conferences, writing posters and riding bicycles to Tiananmen Square.

Because of the traffic on the street, Baiyun decided to take Dagong through an old, almost abandoned residential area on campus. It was located near Baiyun’s dorm but across the street and was encircled by the old brick wall. The enormous encircled area mainly consisted of trees and stones. Occasionally a reddish colored brick house appeared. The clothes hanging on the rope under the front porch roof and bok choy and celeries lying against the wall had indicated the house was occupied. Baiyun and Dagong were walking on the dirt road over many layers of dry leaves. They were silent for a while. They both realized that this was an ideal place for lovers. Since this place officially was not a part of the present-day campus, very few students had ventured in this area. Baiyun was nervous. When she first ran into him today, she planned to slap him on the face and walked away. She couldn’t believe she not only took him for a walk but also lured him to this lover’s heaven.

For many years, she wished she could find a nice young man to rely on and to bear her heart to. Dagong almost became one and then the complication happened. He was married and she shouldn’t see him again ever. Yet he showed up again in her life and she took him back for reasons she couldn’t understand herself. She was confused and excited. She didn’t know which emotion was stronger. She was like a heroin in a prohibit love who was just about to plunge into the abyss and she hoped that she would come out alive. It is too late to back out and let’s see what happens, she told herself. She was naturally curious so this would be a chance to understand Dagong better.

Dagong, however, was more experienced. He wrapped his right arm around Baiyun’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. Their faces gradually moved toward each other and their eyes were full of love and anticipation. Just before their lips were about to touch, Baiyun suddenly turned her head away. In recent years, she had always imagined kissing a boy, and wondering how it would feel. “Would this be the same as I have imagined?” she asked herself.

“Are you afraid?” asked Dagong. Baiyun nodded silently, not really afraid, but mostly shy, and at the same time excited inside. “How about we find a place and sit down for a while?” Baiyun nodded again, both eager and somewhat afraid at the same time.

She could feel her heart beating like a drum. She could sense what was going to happen and felt fear but also curiosity. But how could she refuse him? How could she refuse to get closer to such a charming and attractive man? Oh, she almost forgot he was married. She had to ask him about that.

They sat on a bench under a tree.

“Woo, summer started early this year,” said Dagong. He unbuttoned his white polyester shirt and sat on the bench. “Even the stone bench is warm,” he added.

“I saw a pair of lovers just left. They didn’t realize they had left something here.” Baiyun sat next to Dagong. She wanted to ask him about his family but she decided to wait not wanting to disturb such a pleasant atmosphere.

Dagong chuckled. Even in the shade, Baiyun’s face was radiant. Her straight black hair was glowing under the sunlight that filtered through the trees. She put her hands on her bare legs stretched out from her shorts and said:

“I’m so excited! This democracy movement is fun.”

“You kids just want to have fun,” said Dagong teasingly.

“Stop lecturing me! I know your generation!”

“What do you know? Have you ever worked in the countryside?” questioned Dagong.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“2 months.”

“Ok. That’s nothing. I am talking about 10 or 20 years. Have you ever worked on a hog farm?” Dagong raised his voice.

“No. So what?”

Dagong stood up to face her.

“So you don’t know what hardship is. Have you washed your body with icy water? Have you slept in a place where eggs cracked due to the cold?”

Wanting to argue on an equal level, Baiyun stood up to face him directly.

“No, no and no! But your generation is passive and letting others turn and twist your fate. You don’t have guts any more. You have lost all your edge through years of bad fortune.” Baiyun was so surprised by her assertiveness.

She stared at him. He gazed at her. Her face was pink down to her neck and his neck was red up to his ears.

“Hey, you kids are getting damn serious,” said Dagong, breaking the momentary silence.

Baiyun giggled and then said: “Don’t just laugh it off. Where is your answer?”

“Do you want a kiss?” Dagong looked at Baiyun with affection. Baiyun stood there quietly and dreamingly. She sensed people walking past them like a show.

“No answer. Does that mean Yes?” He put his arms on top of her shoulders. She moved forward. Their lips reached out for each other. Baiyun had hundreds of reasons not to kiss Dagong yet the only one reason she had to kiss him had made the decision. She loved him after all. The bandage on his head made her love him even more. He was a hero of the movement after all. Who wouldn’t want to kiss a hero? Whether he was married or not, she didn’t want to care now. She was indeed her mother’s daughter and her family gene was certainly at work.

“Hello. Baiyun, Baiyun!” A voice took them out of their fantasy.

Baiyun raised her head. Like a strange nightmare, her mother, Meiling appeared in front of them. Only it was real. She sat on the back seat of her boyfriend Lao Zheng’s motorcycle. They both wore leather jackets and blue jeans. There was a guitar on Meiling’s shoulder.

“Hi, mother.” Meeting Meiling so unexpectedly, and with Dagong after witnessing his family together with Meiling not long ago, Baiyun felt totally embarrassed and even guilty.

“I don’t mean to disturb,” Meiling winked at them, but mostly at Dagong, who was dead silent. Then she pulled Baiyun to the side and said, “You are seeing him again. I want you to explain to me. Why are you seeing a married man?”

“Mother,” this was the first time Baiyun got caught red-handed by her mother for doing something wrong. It was usually other way around. “I will talk to you later, Ok?” She stared at her mother innocently trying hard to get her approval.

“Baiyun is a big girl. She could take care of herself,” said Lao Zheng. Then he turned to Baiyun and gave her a sleazy smile, which didn’t make Baiyun feel like throwing up this time.

“Ok, maybe I will see you soon. Take care of yourself.” Meiling handed Baiyun a bag of food and a jacket.

“De, de…..” Meiling and her boyfriend disappeared in a cloud of smoke and noise.

“So now you’ve met my mother,” said Baiyun uneasily. “Sorry it had to be like this”

“No. I have met her a few times. Once in Xidan Market after we came out of the fancy restaurant there. The other time was after the police in Tiananmen Square had beaten me. She seems like quite an exciting person,” suppressing the urge to tell her that he thought Meiling looked familiar.

“Thank you.”

“I take it that man is not your father.”

“No. He is too young to be my father.”

“Where is your father?”

“He died a long time ago during the Cultural Revolution.” She lied.

“I see,” Dagong moved closer to Baiyun, “I guess your mother stole our kisses,” Dagong beamed at Baiyun.

Baiyun turned her head toward him and said, “That’s a good thing.” Baiyun teased.

“Why?” Dagong was surprised.

“Because I don’t know you yet. And and…” Baiyun lowered her head looking at her fingers. “You are married.”

“Do you want to know why? I would love to tell you and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t want it to spoil our relationship because I love you so much,” Dagong leaned toward Baiyun and touched Baiyun’s long black hair.

“Sure,” said Baiyun. She took his green sunglasses off. The top of his right eye still showed purple and was swollen from the beating. “You look handsome despite of this.”

“Do you know my parents died when I was five years old? My aunt Rose raised me up and she passed away when I was twenty doing hard labor in the Inner Mongolia. She left me alone in this world. I was a straight A student but was not allowed to go to any universities due to my family background. I worked so hard on the farm that miracle happened. I was assigned a job in Beijing working as a janitor in the Beijing Zoo. My wife’s father who was the head of the Beijing Automobile Parts factory discovered me and assigned me to work for him. His daughter fell in love with me. We got married and had a son. So that’s it,” said Dagong. “That’s the short version. A long version might take a thousand and one nights. I’m not sure that you want to hear the long version.” Dagong stood up and walked away.

Baiyun stood up and chased him down. “I understand. But I don’t care. I still love you.” Dagon turned around and they kissed passionately. They held each either tightly as though they would never let each other go. After a few minutes, Baiyun broke loss from Dagong.

“Don’t you feel guilty that we are kissing while others are planning the revolution?” Baiyun asked.

“No,” said Dagong firmly.

“Why?” Baiyun was surprised by his conviction.

“Because this is revolution too.”

“What? You mean this?” She pointed her finger to her lips, “you mean the kissing?”

“Yes,” Dagong looked at the bewildered Baiyun and smiled, “because we were not allowed to kiss before.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” asked Baiyun.

“Of course, how about you?”

“Yes,” said Baiyun, feeling at that point it was better to lie. She glanced at him to see his reaction.

“I know you are experienced when it comes to love. When was your first love experience?”

“I fell in love with my violin teacher when I was fifteen. Then I fell for my mother’s lover,” said Baiyun.

“Oh, you are more experienced than any Chinese girl around.”

“We didn’t do anything besides kisses and hugs. How about you? Tell me something about your love experience.” Baiyun really lied. Her so-called love experience was actually unrequited love from her only. She didn’t even have courage to convey the message of love to these men.

“No. I’m an old man, compared to you. You know my life is too complicated to tell. Do you want to walk a little further?” Dagong changed the subject.

“Sure,” said Baiyun. She wished they would find a more private place so she wouldn’t feel so nervous.

Finally they reached the corner of an abandoned building. They sat side by side against a wall, hidden behind two tall pine trees. From the garbage littered around, they could tell this was a popular place for lovers. They kissed slowly and passionately for what seemed to Baiyun like hours. It was a lot like her dreams about Dagong, only stronger. She could feel the gentle softness of his lips, but his passion had almost taken her breath away. After a while, Dagong slowly unbuttoned Baiyun’s shirt and reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. The sudden freeness of her breasts caused her to inhale quickly, but softly. He turned her slightly toward him, and cupped her small but now eager breasts in his large, firm hands. She had never been touched that way before, and she was surprised by the waves of pleasure that surged through her body and caused a wonderful tingling sensation between her legs. She felt her nipples harden under his touch. Dagong unzipped his pants, and slowly guided Baiyun’s hand down to touch him. She felt guilty, but at the same time, being there with Dagong, it felt so right, so comforting. She gently probed inside, feeling the throbbing and the increasing hardness. She had only seen a penis once in a medical school specimen jar, and now she held one in her hand.

After she got admitted in Beijing University, she went to visit a high school classmate who was going to attend the Beijing Medical University. The classmate showed her around campus and some classrooms. The story made the most impression on her was the fact the bodies used for anatomy classes were kept under ground in caves. She told her classmate all she wanted to see was some specimen. As they walked along the hallway where the specimen jars were kept in glass cabinets, she noticed a black wrinkly tubular thing floating in a medium sized jar.

“What is this?” she asked.

“That’s called a penis, the male sexual organ,” her classmate said matter-of-factly without a trace of embarrassment.

Baiyun, however, never dared to ask another question.

Some of the guilt came from a discussion she could still remember from a couple of years back in her dormitory.

Wenjing opened her small eyes behind her thick glasses and began the discussion. “I don’t understand why people would ever want to kiss each other. It is very unhygienic behavior. Do you know how much bacteria our mouths contain? How many germs and diseases can be transmitted through our saliva?”

Li Yan laughed.

“Yes, but why?” mumbled Baiyun. Her voice was so quiet that nobody even noticed that she spoke.

“You’d better give it a try yourself and then you will find out why people kiss. Like chemistry, you have to do experiments to determine whether the theory is correct or not,” argued Yumei. She sounded like she already knew why people kiss, and her sly smile confirmed their suspicion.

“You don’t always have to use experiments to decide whether a theory is correct or not. You can use assumptions and calculations to predict the answer. Besides I don’t think I would want to risk my health just for a kiss,” said Wenjing.

So much was happening lately. Her whole life had changed in the last two weeks since the movement had begun that day in the crowded square. She had never felt so busy yet so happy, so involved. The unhappy loner has turned into an organizer and activist. She no longer had to worry about her weight problem. The many sleepless days and irregular meals had shrunk her puffy waistline in spite of her recent dining with her mother. She liked it. She had never made so many friends before and on top of all that, she met Dagong. Dagong reminded her of Meiling’s old boyfriend Weiming, with whom Meiling had a 7 years relationship but later broke up. For the longest time Baiyun felt that Weiming was more like her real father. After Meiling broke up with Weiming, Baiyun had a hard time. It was like losing a close relative. She always wished to find a replacement “father”, but she didn’t know how. She felt that finding a boyfriend of her own would not be a solution, since most of young men her age were far too immature. Since she realized Dagong could now be the one, the replacement she had been looking for in many years, she did not know how to describe her joy. But of course, she could never have predicted the relationship would progress so far this fast

Dagong slowly massaged her nipples while kissing her. Baiyun hesitantly touched the totally erect penis reaching out from his jeans, unsure of exactly what to do with it. She could tell from his deep sighs when they paused for air between long kisses, that she was at least doing something right. They paused and looked intently at each other. His shirt buttons were open and exposed a white tank top tucked tightly under his belt. Dagong moved his hand to the inside of her thigh, kissing her intently as he slowly moved it up between her outstretched legs. As he reached the seam at the top of her legs, she pulled away.

“So this is your first time,” asked Dagong.

“Yes,” murmured Baiyun and nodding hesitantly. She felt a little embarrassed like a teenager drinking alcohol behind her parents back. Dagong had become a different person in front of her. She now looked directly at his male sex organ, his totally erect penis, to say it more precisely, which looked much more attractive than the one in the medical school specimen jar and she had been blindly touching earlier while they were kissing and caressing. At that moment, Meiling’s warning appeared in her mind.

“You could learn something from your mother? Stay away from the boys. They will only make trouble for you. Study, study hard!”

Her head dropped and she pulled her hands away from Dagong and rested them on the grass.

“I’m making you uncomfortable. I will stop. I would never force you into anything,” Dagong, now becoming flaccid, closed the zipper on his pants. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” answered Baiyun quietly. Her voice was so low that it was almost inaudible. She couldn’t predict what Dagong was going to do. Would he ridicule her? Would he leave in anger? Baiyun did not want to stop the kissing and touching, but at the same time was afraid to continue.

“I’m surprised? I didn’t think that you Beijing University students were that old fashioned. Not many people think of virginity as being a big deal anymore.” Dagong looked at Baiyun with curiosity, and maybe little sadness. He did not want to hurt this lovely girl’s feelings.

“But for me it is important to be a virgin,” she said as she re-buttoned her bra, but left her shirt undone. “Mother told me that if I found out things about boys, I would never be able to be a good student anymore,” said Baiyun seriously with slightly louder voice as she became more confident.

“Why do you have to believe her?”

“It’s because mothers have a lot of experience. I grew up with mother’s many secret love affairs. I even helped her a few times.”

“So did she enjoy it?”

“Sure, but she has wasted all her life with men. It’s not worth it.”

“Is it not worthwhile to have some fun in life?”

“No, it is the pain involved makes it not worthwhile. Mother always says that life consists of endless pain and a few moments of joy. It is especially true between man and woman.”

“Woo. Do you believe that?”

“Yes, because my life has been just like that, too much pain, very little joy.”

“Oh, my poor girl,” stroking Baiyun’s head, he continued, “Why didn’t your mother just marry one of her boyfriends?”

“My father… is still alive,” said Baiyun slowly, word by word. Each word was like a bullet penetrating her heart.

“He is still alive? I thought he had died a few years ago.”

“No, he is not alive. He is just not dead. He spends whole day in the green house tending his flowers and the whole evening playing violin. When he is in the apartment, he makes the cat like noise as though he were an animal. Except for occasional yelling and cursing, it’s hard to tell that he’s alive.”

“Woo. You mean that your mother, her boyfriend and your father actually live together?” Dagong stared at Baiyun. He felt sad for her, and a bit angry. “You should get out of there.”

“I did move out and came to live in the dorm. But they still seem so close. I need to go to a place far away. Only then could I forget about the whole situation. But how should I do it?”

Dagong did not answer. He did not have an answer for her. In China, a person is not free to live anywhere he or she wants. The government determines where you live.

“So my only choice is to study hard and pass the exams to go to America.”

“I think you should,” said Dagong. Baiyun’s words reminded him of his own desire to go to America. He did not have as clear an objective as Baiyun did. Although Dagong’s life was not perfect, he had long gotten used to it after having finally lost any thoughts of going away.

“That’s why I don’t go out with boys. I believe that any mistake can spoil my chance to go to America,” said Baiyun. She sounded like an adult.

“Why are you here and not studying now?” asked Dagong.

“I can’t. My mind is filled with other things lately. I can’t study anymore. I’m afraid I would never get out of here. I’m stuck here, but I’m here with you.” Baiyun leaned toward Dagong. They hugged each other.

He slowly moved his hands away and buttoned Baiyun’s white short sleeve shirt and straightened her hair. “Let’s go to the lake,” he said as he helped Baiyun to stand up.

“Oh, my legs.” Baiyun cried out loud as she stretched out her cramped legs. She leaned down and rubbed the inactivity out of her thighs and calves, and walked along with Dagong.

The sky turned pink while the wind swept through the dried dirt they were walking on. The almost full moon had quietly arisen in the sky. They walked quietly toward the lake, holding hands like lovers.

Dagong was surprised to hear Baiyun’s complicated life story and to learn of her tragic and confused family life. He was also glad to know Baiyun. It was first time in his life he found a girl with the depth to truly understand him. He, too, had an unfortunately life story. He felt like maybe he could tell Baiyun everything about himself.

They caught last glimpse of the sunset, half of a cold and sanguine ball falling in the west side of the sky after they found a bench by the lake. The wind had stopped and the air became still. The lake was like a mirror and also like a bottomless hole, which had swallowed everything around it, the island, the bushes on the island and the willow tree by the shore. Sun and the sky had become a symmetrical object in this endless and bottomless world. For a while, it was hard to tell the high from the low, the top from the bottom and the earth from the whispered exclaimed Dagong.

“Yes, except for the reddish sun. Do you think the sun looks like a heart soaked in blood?” Baiyun was not in a good mood.

“Don’t just dwell on your painful past. You will feel better in a while. Nature has the power to heal.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Let me tell you my story. More than 20 years ago, because of my family background, the Beijing University and all the other universities rejected me despite of my excellent academic record and my high test-scores in the college entrance exams. I rode my bicycle here and found a bench like this one. I sat there and stared into the lake for the whole day. I thought about committing suicide. Then the magic happened. Gradually the lake in front of me turned into an underworld, which was full of life and nature, where birds were singing and people were dancing. I began to communicate with the trees and the earth around me. They seemed all whispered one sentence to me, ‘There is hope! There is hope!’” This sentence slipped out of Dagong’s mouth unconsciously like steams running down the hill. He stared at the lake as though that magic was happening again, but this time for them.

It was completely dark. The lights and stars had become candles on the calm lake. It looked like a ceremony was going on in the underworld. They both heard a voice floating up from the lake, solemn and graceful.

“On a bright and sunny day in May, we are going on a hunger strike. We are young but we are ready to give up our lives. We don’t want to die so in our youth, but our country suffers from so many wrongs.”

“They are the hunger strikers! They are the hunger strikers!” Baiyun cheered proudly. She stretched her arms and leaned forward as though she was ready to join the group.

Chapter 13

By 8pm, Dagong made it home on his bicycle. Everyone was having dinner and the smell of food was pungent. The first family he saw was Lao Liu’s family who were sitting around a little table in the yard eating stir-fried pork with cabbage and rice. They all nodded to Dagong.

“Wow. You are back. You know Zhang Ping has been looking for you the whole day.” Lao Liu put down his chopsticks and turned toward him. “I think you are in for a punishment.” He made a face.

“Don’t scare him,” said his wife Wu Zheng. “She understands you need to organize the workers and support the students. Look at your head. You are still bleeding. I can see blood seeping through the bandage. Let me find a new one for you.” Wu Zheng ran into her apartment.

“How is the square?” asked Lili. She wore a polka dot summer dress and looked beautiful.

“It’s getting crowded. Students from many colleges and universities have moved here and pitched tents in Tiananmen Square. It is like a county fair over there. Farmers brought their pigs, goats, cats and dogs performing tricks. I have seen quite amazing Qigong tricks.” Dagong sat down so Wu Zheng could take off the old bandage around his head and wrap a new one.

“It’s not a country fair. You guys are crazy!” Lao Liu yelled.

“Calm down, Lao Liu,” said Wu Zheng. “It looks like people would win this time.”

“Soldiers are not doing anything. They just stand there and make sure everything goes smoothly. It looks like they are told not to do anything. People are not afraid. It is really different this time. It is as though someone has sprayed laughing gas all over the square to intoxicate the people or they are just intoxicated by the wind of democracy,” said Dagong.

Lao Liu noticed Dagong had become much more confidant and he waved his hands while talking. “Yes. The soldiers are told not to do anything because the political leaders are conflicted. Currently the General Secretary Zhao Ziyang is ahead. He can speak positively about the student unrest in the Asia Development Bank. He can openly support the students. But how long would that last? They would let students partying for a while and having some fun. When they decide enough is enough, they would be able to clean up very quickly. The soldiers are there with guns and the tanks are not far away. You will see.” Then he stood up. “Let’s me show you something.” He stood up and dropped the cat down. The cat made noise, arched his back and jumped on the stone railing of the fishpond.

Lao Liu stuck his head out of the door and yelled, “Dagong, come in and I will show you a video.”

Dagong obeyed.

Lili jumped up and asked, “Mom, can I go and find my friends in the square? I will be back soon. Please. Let me go before Father gets out and locks me up again.” Her big and beautiful eyes were so sincere that they almost could melt Wu Zheng’s heart.

“Ok. I will go with you.” Wu Zheng quickly cleaned the dishes and was ready to go.

“Why? I’m old enough to go alone. I’m seventeen. Have you forgotten?”

“I know. If I don’t go with you, your father will be shouting at me and asking me to find you. Where do I find you in this vast place? This way, at least I know where you are. Do you want to go or not?” Wu Zhang started walking toward the gate.

“Ok.” Realizing this was her only choice, Lili followed.

Now Lao Liu and Dagong walked out.

“You see. They have videos of everyone there. They have videos of you, your student friends, Pumpkin, Broomstick, even Potatofeet.” Then he lowered his voice. “The only person I don’t see is Mr. Wang.”

“I thought he had been going there a lot,” said Dagong.

“Yes. I think he works for the government. He has installed many cameras for them so he knows where the cameras are and where not to show up. You see in the end, these would be evidence to arrest whoever they want.” Lao Liu walked down the steps and then he stopped suddenly putting his hand on his chest as though he had a heart attack. “Where is Lili? Where is Wu Zheng?” He yelled so loud that even the cat was woken up from its nap.

“They went to the square. Lili was stir-crazy. Wu Zheng decided to follow her.” Little Pea walked over with a plate of food in her hands and told him the news about his wife and daughter.

“Crazy. Everyone is crazy. I guess I have to show my old face there.” Lao Liu raced out of the gate.

When Dagong was just about to venture into his apartment to see where Zhang Ping and Little Turnip were hiding, he heard the door slam and Zhang Ping rushed out looking disheveled. Her permed hair was randomly bunched up by a hair clip and looking like a bird nest. A half-buttoned white shirt loosely hung over a pair of faded baggy jeans and revealed her shallow cleavage. Makeup was smudged all over her face along with sweat and the day’s soil.

“My dear Dagong. It’s so good that you came back.” She came down the steps and fell on his shoulder. “I have been waiting for you the whole day and just fell asleep before you got here.”

Dagong helped her walk to the bench and they both sat down. She leaned toward Dagong and cupped his head in her hands.

“Oh. Look at your black eye and the fresh scars. You look like a Pirate!” Then she started to unbutton his shirt.

“Maybe we should go inside,” said Dagong.

“No. I want everyone to see how a handsome man you are!” Zhang Ping ripped his shirt off from him. She turned and leaped up to the center of the yard. “You are out there and participating in the pro-democracy movement. You nearly sacrifice your life for it. You forget about your wife and son. I will forgive you for that because it is hard not to be swept into this exciting movement and to have a chance to be a leader. But how can you forget about the past, the suffering you have gone through in the previous political movements because of your family background? Do you remember when we first met, when you were working as a janitor in the Beijing Zoo? When we found you outside of the bathroom you were cleaning, you looked so thin and your face was yellow. We thought you had Hepatitis B. Dad and I took you to the clinic to check you up. It turned out that you were just malnourished. When Dad told you he would get you out of there and assign you a job in his factory, you cried. I still remember the teardrops on your handsome but dry and tan face. Come on. We don’t need a revolution. We have suffered so much already. We need food and housing. So people like Little Pea and Yu Gang can get married and have their own apartment.” She went to sit next to Dagong and turned to face him hitting his chest. “Why don’t you understand?” Tears streamed down on her cringed but colorful face.

“Mom.” Little Turnip rushed out of their apartment and fell into Zhang Ping’s chest so she would stop pounding on Dagong’s chest.

Dagong looked into the yard feeling touched by his wife. He was not surprised that his son didn’t recognize him since he had not been home much lately. Kids forget things very quickly. Yes. What would this revolution bring to him? He didn’t know but all he knew was that it had gathered up so much momentum that no one could stop it. Maybe they are onto something this time, he said to himself. But Zhang Ping still lived in the past. She didn’t understand why he joined this pro-democracy movement. She wanted him to stay home and study TOFEL. So they could go to America. He didn’t have a clear vision why he was in this movement. All he knew was that he had never been this free and this happy. When the movement was over and successful, he could still go to America. At that time, he would be a much freer man hopefully. He would like to get a divorce. But Zhang Ping was too fragile now. He decided not to mention it.

Broomstick stepped in with Potatofeet. They both carried helmets in their hands. Pumpkin sauntered over to them and shouted, “You can come home to eat when your bellies grumble. I have food for you. I’m not yelling at you. You two are heroes.”

She went into the kitchen and brought out some pork steamed buns, stir-fried cabbage and Tofu soup.

“What is new, my heroes?” asked Pumpkin.

“We zoomed around the square passing messages. It was fun. Even Potatofeet enjoyed it, right?” said Broomstick after swallowing two steamed buns quickly.

“It was… was fun. I get to sit on the back of the motorcycle while…while Broomstick goes…goes around to pass…pass the messages.”

“So you can watch the bike, you dummy.” Broomstick was so proud of himself to make use of his brother.

“That…’s what…what I thou..ght, smart…brother,” said Potatofeet. He finally wobbled to a chair by the square wooden table and sat down. He took the last two steamed-pork buns, one in each hand and swallowed them down.

“What’s the news?” asked Pumpkin after sitting down herself.

“The Government is still unwilling to have dialogue with the student leaders. So they’ve decided to stage a full scale hunger strike.” In order to demonstrate what a hunger striker was like, he jumped up and knelt on the concrete ground with two hands clasping in front of his nose looking solemn.

“Hunger strike! That’s dangerous.” She wiped her face with a towel and said, “I was going to make more steamed pork buns but it looks I don’t have to.”

“Ya. It would be easy. But I would still be eating. So please still make some for us messengers.” Broomstick sat down realizing this was not joke.

“Pretty soon, no one would be eating. Everyone would like to be a hunger striker,” said Pumpkin.

“What hunger striker? You are all crazy.” Marshmallows came out of the apartment door and joined in.

“Not us. The students will,” said Pumpkin.

“Yes. They are insane. In the end, they will all be rolled over by the tanks and die,” then he turned to Pumpkin, “What do you think the probability of this happening?”

“This is revolution, not gambling.” Pumpkin stood up and went inside leaving the rest of family seating around the table silent.

“How about playing a game of ‘Catching Black Seven’?” Marshmallow suggested looking at his sons with a forced grin.

“Sure,” answered Broomstick and Potatofeet unenthusiastically.

Now Mr. Wang just scurried in. He walked fast and avoided eye contact with everyone. As soon as he walked through the beaded curtains to get into his apartment, he was in trouble.

“Why are you back so late?” said Mrs. Wang angrily.

“I have a lot of work to do,” which was Mr. Wang’s timid voice.

“Working. Nobody works now. Are you telling the truth? Oh.” The sound of spanking could be heard.

Chapter 14

Baiyun was awakened at 7am by the alarm. She sat right up. Today is a big day for the hunger strikers, she told herself. Even though she would be merely reporting on the Hunger Strike, her friends Yumei, Longfe and Big Li all had made the commitment. Yumei and Li Yan leapt out of the beds, too. They quickly got ready. Wenjing woke up, too. As usual, she didn’t get up with others.

“I may join you later. I need to lose some weight,” said Wenjing and hid her head back under the blanket.

Yumei put on a white T-shirt and a pair of black pants, the official hunger striker uniform. Baiyun decided to put on a red shirt and blue jeans for lucks. Red meant good luck in Chinese culture. Li Yan wore a white T-shirt and blues jeans in order to be casual.

“Let’s bring our radios. If the Government finally agrees to have dialogue with the student leaders as demanded by the Student Dialogue Committee and the United Student Federation and broadcast it through the official radio station, we would hear about it,” said Yumei. “Let’s go to the Last Supper, except this time it is the Last Breakfast for some of us,” said Yumei.

“Are you sure that you can eat a lot?” Baiyun really concerned about Yumei for being a hunger striker. “You usually eat so little and your body is too small to store a lot of food. I will bring some snacks just in case you faint so I can feed you.”

“What? You can’t do that! This is an official Hunger Strike!” said Yumei.

Yumei was sounding really tense and serious this morning, Baiyun thought. “Ok. Whatever you say. Just be careful.”

“Thank you. But careful is not our priority now. We have committed, haven’t we?” Yumei raised her fist forcefully. “This is our last chance to force the government to have a dialogue with us. Gorbachev is coming in two days. If the students and government don’t reach an agreement before that, we will stay in the Tiananmen Square. The government may really send the troops in to disperse us.”

“Yes,” cut in Li Yan, “I see danger written all over this.” She straightened her shirt, “But we are committed and can’t back out.” She marched out. Yumei and Baiyun followed.

Once they were outside, Baiyun realized how big a deal this was. After they mingled with groups of people walking toward Cafeteria #1, people came to shake Yumei’s hands and gave her hugs. “Yumei, you are a brave soul. We admire you. Take care.” Yumei, who was used to having a lot of attention, was wordless at this moment. Baiyun could see tears lingering in her eyes but she held back her tears. She looked determined.

When forty hunger strikers sat in the middle of the cafeteria, many reporters and cameramen from CNN, The London Times, The China Daily and Hong Gong News and World Report were snapping pictures. The flashbulbs were like lightening traveling in the normally dark cafeteria, which cast an ominous shadow over the event. Yet this shadow had been easily illuminated by Longfe’s speech.

“We want to tell our parents: don’t pity us when we are hungry and thirsty. We want to tell our aunts and uncles: don’t feel sad when we have gone. We only have one wish: that those whom we leave behind will have a better life. We have only one request: that you remember us as young men and women who pursued life, not death.”

The forty hunger strikers boarded a nearby bus after the meal. Using reporter’s badges, Baiyun and Li Yan were able to enter the crowded bus that was full of reporters, camera crews and hunger strikers. As the big coach bus moved slowly through the streets toward the Monument of the People’s Heroes, a group of students on bicycles from Beida, Qinghua and Beijing Normal University followed it waving flags and shouting slogans.

“Long Live Democracy!”

“Students are Patriotic, not Instigators!”

“Long Live the Chinese People!”

When Baiyun got off the bus at the Monument of the People’s Heroes, she noticed right away the flag of the “Beijing Worker’s Union” billowing in the air and a group of fifty workers in white shirts and black pants sitting on the top tier of the Monument steps looking solemn. Along with them were students from a few other universities. Baiyun stood on her tiptoes trying hard to look for Dagong and she thought she could see him under the flag. She could see his sharp but fierce eyes and his swarthy face under his slightly curly black hair. An idea hit her. Dagong was up there sacrificing his life. Why couldn’t she? Maybe Dagong couldn’t marry her or even date her but they could sit next to each other in this Hunger Strike and fight alongside each other in this pro-democracy movement. At that moment, she was standing under the Monument of People’s Heroes, which gave her more courage. The Monument was located in the south side of the Tiananmen Square and was built in memory of the martyrs who gave up their lives for the revolutionary struggles of the Chinese people during the 19th and 20th centuries. As depicted by the marble sculptures along sides of the Monument, over the course of Chinese history, millions of people had lost their lives during the First Opium War, The Jintian Village uprising, The Wuchang Uprising, The May 4th Movement, The May 30th Movement, The Nanchang Uprising and The War of Resistance Against Japan. Standing at this majestic monument, she could sense the magic seeping through the marble sculptures and flowing into her heart. She felt bold and free. She waited for the student hunger strikers to walk up the stairs and sit down before making her announcement. She also waited for Li Yan to finish snapping pictures.

“Li Yan, I would like to join the hunger strikers.” Baiyun poked Li Yan. “I can do my report writing up there.” She pointed her finger toward where the “Beijing Worker’s Union” hunger strikers were.

“What? You are getting crazier and crazier. If I tell people you used to spend the whole day and night in the library studying, nobody would believe me. I will join in later. But now, I would like to take some good photos before going up there and sitting down. I can’t just let the foreign journalists take all the good photos,” said Li Yan.

“Can you lend me your white shirt?” Baiyun realized that she would be the only person in red among hunger strikers.

“You can stand by the red flag and no one would notice. Besides, where would we exchange?” Li Yan was always the practical one. “Very soon, all kinds of people would join the Hunger Strike. So you wouldn’t have to be in white and black.”

“You are right. This monument is magical and will attract all kinds of people over to join the Hunger Strike.” Baiyun couldn’t wait to join Dagong.

“Make sure that you turn on your radio while you are there. If the dialogue between the Student Dialogue Delegation and the government Propaganda department is successful, we are supposed to clear out of the square. I know you don’t want this to end. You are having too much fun here,” said Li Yan before going back to snapping pictures.

“You rascal!” Baiyun hit Li Yan’s shoulder with one of her fists. It was so weak that Li Yan didn’t even react. “Of course, I want it to end.” Baiyun’s voice trailed off. She hadn’t thought about what to do in terms of her relationship with Dagong. Could he get a divorce? If not, should she still see him secretly or openly like her mother Meiling? She hadn’t had time to talk it over with Dagong yet. In her mind, she was telling herself, I would not be like Meiling for sure. Yet right now, all she wanted was to run up the steps and gave Dagong a big hug and sit with him as long as she could.

“Bye, Li Yan.” Baiyun ran up the steps two at a time toward Dagong.

As she was getting closer to the top where Dagong sat, Baiyun slowed down. She noticed the solemnness of the atmosphere. She squeezed through a sea of people before she reached where Dagong was. She sat down and looked at Dagong who beamed at her briefly and then grabbed her hand. Baiyun could feel the warmth of his body passing through her. They are together now in this crucial moment of the movement, Baiyun said to herself. This was a beginning and with him, she was ready to fight any obstacles. Maybe she even could die with Dagong. She thought about “Romeo and Juliet”, the book she read a month ago.

“Why are you a hunger striker? I thought your will to live is stronger than the will to die,” asked Dagong without looking at Baiyun. Deep inside him, he knew why Baiyun was here but he liked to hear her own words.

“It is because I want to die with you.” Baiyun turned her head toward Dagong looking at him affectionately.

“We can be the Chinese Romeo and Juliet,” Baiyun whispered into his ears.

Dagong nodded and wrapped his arm around her tightly.

“The Government cheated us again. Instead of broadcasting the Dialogue between the Student Dialogue Delegation and the Head of Propaganda department on CCTV (Central China TV), they broadcast the Asian Soccer game,” said Longfe through a load speaker. “This Hunger Strike must go on!” He threw his fisted hand into the air. Everyone followed.

After five hours, a few people fainted due to the early summer heat.

“I worry about Yumei,” said Baiyun breaking a long silence between her and Dagong. In order to conserve energy, they had their mouths sealed most of time.

“I agree,” said Dagong. “I think in order to preserve our man power, we should have a second shift coming here tomorrow if we are still here tomorrow.”

“What do you think it’s going to happen?”

“If the students and the government don’t reach an agreement tonight at midnight, the government might send the troops in to clear us out. They will need at least one day to clean up the blood before Gorbachev comes in two days. On the other hand, it might be embarrassing for the government if they do a massive killing just before Gorbachev’s arrival. So the situation is very dicey now. The domino could fall either way.”

“No matter what happens, I will be with you,” said Baiyun. Her head fell on Dagong’s shoulder as she spoke. She was growing tired as the day progressed. The flag provided a nice shield for her so no one could see they were in such intimate positions.

“Sure, I will try to carry you if you can’t walk anymore. You can become a part of me.”

“Won’t your wife be jealous?”

“I don’t know. You are a sick student hunger striker. I have to help. What can she do?” Dagong sighed. “She wants me to take her to places she has no ability to reach by herself like the United States. Now I have lost the interests in going. I don’t know if she still loves me. Look, the ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’ is here to rescue fainted hunger strikers.” Dagong touched Baiyun’s head lightly.

“Oh, no! My mother.” Baiyun ducked her head trying to hide behind Dagong.

At this moment more people joined the Hunger Strike as the sick people were carried away by medical personnel and motor cycles. It was no longer quiet. People turned on their radios and even battery-powered portable TVs to find out whether the dialogue had been broadcast live. It was obviously not the case. Only the voice of soccer game announcer could be heard all around. Dusk had fallen upon them with a beautiful sky that consisted of red, black and blue.

“Silly, I don’t think your mother would find you in the chaos and darkness,” said Dagong. “Look at the moon. It is almost full.” Dagong pointed to the sky.

“I guess it would be full, just in time to commensurate the people who would die after midnight tonight.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen yet.” Dagong tried to comfort Baiyun yet his voice was not too convincing.

“I never expected life to be perfect. I could be happy with a moon that’s almost full.” She turned to Dagong looking a little sad. “If I could spend tonight with you, I would be very happy. If I could spend tomorrow night with you, I would be happier but I’m not asking that much.”

At this moment, a few policemen approached them, which like a gust of wind gave Baiyun a chill down to the bone.

“Who is Dagong Liang? Can you step out? We have some questions for you.” asked the tall thin policeman.

“I’m Dagong Liang.” Dagong stood up.

The police turned to a bald man with a solid built and asked, “Mr. Wang, is he the right person?”

“Yes.” Mr. Wang nodded avoiding eye contacts with his neighbor Dagong.

“I am arresting you for instigating illegal activities in Tiananmen Square,” said the Policeman.

“Ok.” Dagong stood up and extended his arms to let the police put handcuff on his hands.

“Dagong.” Baiyun stood up and yelled. The policeman pushed her and she fell down onto the steps.

Baiyun could hear loud noises down below and Yumei asking for help for Longfe. Then she saw Longfe and a few other student leaders being escorted away by the police. She went down the steps and saw Yumei in tears. They hugged each other.

Chapter 15

When Zhang Ping came home from work at 6:00pm, she found the students had invaded her home. Fifty or so students bundled in thick blankets, were lying all over the yard. Some of them were sleeping while some were unconscious. Their eyes behind their white-rimmed glasses were closed. Their faces were dark and sunken. Their hair was gummy. Little Pea was trying to feed them with hot porridge. Her boyfriend was cooking more in the kitchen. A doctor-looking lady dressed in white coat was walking around with a stethoscope over her shoulders. She was checking on the sickest looking student’s health. An occasionally cry or scream could be heard.

Zhang Ping looked around and found hundreds of towels, shirts, pants, under wears, tank tops and even women’s period strips were hanging on ropes between trees. The various items obscured the sky from the yard and dripped water as though it was raining.

Since the yard was so crowded, Zhang Ping had to maneuver around the bodies to serve the hot porridge. Then she noticed that the corn, the sunflower plants and the vegetables she had planted during the spring were all trod upon. So were the neighbor’s plants. The student movement had turned everybody’s life into chaos. Maybe for some people it was a joyful chaos because chaos could bring changes to one’s life. But for Zhang Ping, that was not the case. Her husband Dagong had not showed up at home very much. She knew where he was. She had gone to the square and tried to persuade him to come back. He told her that he was busy and he had become the Hunger Strike leader for the workers. She threw herself onto the ground and begged him not to do such a dangerous thing. She told him that she did not want him to die. He told her not to worry. Out of desperation, she and Little Turnip went back to her parent’s home to hide out for a day. Today she came back herself to check what was going on, and of course, there was a lot.

Zhang Ping opened the squeaky wooden kitchen door. The door was so old and shaky that it could break away any minute. It was obvious that the door needed new hinges. But the wood was so rotten that it could no longer hold its hinges. Zhang Ping remembered when she and Dagong made this kitchen 10 years ago when they were first married. They built it by laying bricks and tiles one by one. Dagong nailed together a few strips of wood onto the outside of this door for enforcement. Now everything had fallen apart. Even the glass window was broken two years before and was now covered with several layers of newspaper. The wind blew through the paper and made this room very cold in the winter.

Zhang lit a match trying to start the gas stove. Nothing happened.

“Shit.” She realized that the stove had run out of the gas. Under the circumstances, it was impossible for her to hook the gas can onto the back of her bike and ride to the gas station to exchange it. Dagong usually did that.

Not knowing what to do, she sat on the steps in front of her door. Mr. Wang stepped out of his home, yawning after a nap.

“The weather will soon change. The weather will change.” He said mysteriously, somewhat like a prophet.

Zhang Ping looked into the sky. It was clear blue without even a trace of cloud.

“The thunder is coming!” Mr. Wang exclaimed.

Zhang Ping didn’t answer. She knew Mr. Wang was crazy sometimes.

“Hurry! Hurry!” Pumpkin and Marshmallow each carried a hunger striker into the yard. Zhang Ping soon found out that they were Lili and her student boyfriend. She didn’t know that Lili had joined the Hunger Strike. She was shocked.

Little Pea helped to put these two people down, feeding them hot water and wrapping them with warm blankets.

Marshmallow dragged Lili’s father Lao Liu out of the bed, where he had been lying for more than two days. He figured that as a policeman, the best support he could give students was to call in sick.

“My daughter!” Lao Liu rushed toward Lili with only a T-shirt and underwear on. He held Lili in his arms.

“Lili, Lili. This is your father.” Tears rolled out of his small eyes onto his unshaven face.

There was no response from Lili except for occasional moaning.

“We should take her to the hospital. They will take in some of the very sick students,” announced the doctor.

Looking at the chaos and listening to the non-stop sirens, Zhang Ping’s mind drifted away.

It was 20 years ago when she was a high school junior. The situation was worse then. The continuous gunfire was hurting her eardrums, much like the New Year fireworks. She was manning a machine gun in a dormitory window in Beijing University after joining her father’s United Worker’s Union. They tried to occupy the chaotic campus. When they arrived at the University gate, their good intentions to forge a peaceful solution soon disappeared. Two student groups were fighting fiercely to gain the control of the university since they were responding Chairmen Mao’s slogan to send all the “corrupted” top university officials and intellectuals to a detention center. The United Worker’s Union was forced into self-defense. She remembered that students came toward them one by one to prevent them from going in. The students were shooting and they were shooting back. The students were falling down one after another. She could still remember their radiant and sweaty yet naïve faces. After the shooting was finished, the main street in the university campus was full of bodies. For days, the street was soaked with blood. It was the first time that she had seen so many dead bodies. After that day, she had changed. She felt ill and stayed in bed for two weeks without eating anything. She started having nightmares. Everyone she had shot down had come alive again in her dreams. They cursed her, spilled blood on her and promised to do the something to her after she descended into the same world. She had lost all her revolutionary enthusiasm. She became so empathetic that she had to resign as the captain of the Red Guard in her high school. After that, she didn’t go to school very much. She didn’t have to anyway. The school stopped operating because of the Cultural Revolution. She stayed home and learned knitting and sewing. She got her high school certificate soon after she returned to school and found a job at the Beijing Automobile Parts Factory where her father was the president. She worked in the assembly lines, personal department and the food service. Finally she was appointed to be the head of the food service. In three years, she met Dagong. Her father Lao Zhang discovered Dagong in a park where he worked as a janitor. When Lao Zhang took Dagong to a restaurant, he got deadly drunk and told him his life story that people usually avoided telling.

In the bar, Dagong passionately expressed his dream of going to college. Lao Zhang liked his honesty and fought for him for a job in the Beijing Automobile Parts Factory. In 1975, he went to the Beijing Normal University when the universities only accepted students on the basis of their political background instead of their academic achievements. But Dagong appreciated the opportunity and made the most of this opportunity. After he returned to the factory, he became a technician. The same year, Zhang Ping married Dagong, following his father’s wishes. She really fell in love with Dagong when she first met him. He was the most gentle and beautiful human being she had ever met. She liked his six-foot frame, his confident and charismatic manner. She admired his intellect. They had fifteen years of peaceful marriage, at least until now. She had never known what Dagong thought of their marriage. He seemed to sit high above her and she could never quite reach him.

The ambulance finally arrived. About ten students were herded into the van one after another. Looking at their fragile features and listening to their moaning, Zhang Ping felt like crying. In order to conceal her sudden burst of emotion, she ran into her room. Tears poured out of her face after she collapsed on the bed. This was the first time she had ever cried in the last twenty years after she had drained out all her tears during the Cultural Revolution.

The doorknob turned and Zhang Ping could not believe that the person who just stepped in was Dagong. His long hair and the unshaven face had not diminished his features. His face was tan and rough. He looked dirty. His white polyester shirt had turned gray and smelled sour. His blue jeans were shiny with grease. His shoelaces were missing.

With her face still buried in her arms, she pretended not to see him. Then she heard him open the dresser drawer, ransacking through the clothes. She could not stay silent anymore.

“Why… why are you coming back?” She mumbled through her hoarse voice.

“Looking for some warm clothes.” He said and kept looking.

“So you think this is a hotel where you can come and go anytime you want.” She sat up and held herself against the back of the bed.

“Zhang Ping, they need me there!” He finally turned his head around and stared at her directly. “Students are dying there. They are going without food or water in order to do something for our country. Police arrested a few student leaders including a dear friend of mine. The police detent me for a day but released me. They didn’t know what to do with me. Don’t you feel guilty for just sitting and complaining?”

Oh, she loved that face of his. She wanted to hug him, to bury her face in his chest. His swarthy face and messy clothes made him look like a street-smart outlaw. But his mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t warm up to him until he became a nice and easy-going husband again.

“I have used up all my revolution energy in the past.” She sighed and continued, “All I know is that a person needs to eat and has clothes on his body. Do you still remember the Cultural Revolution and all the suffering you have gone through? Without my father’s help, you would be still sweeping the park and cleaning public bathrooms.”

“Yes, of course. I remember. That’s why we need to make changes.” Dagong’s voice sounded much more confident after serving as the president of the Beijing Worker’s Union.

“But you know the change is not up to us.” Zhang Ping was on the verge of crying again.

“I understand what you are talking about. In fact maybe you are even right. But I hope you are wrong. If we all think we are powerless, we are never going to have a good life. It doesn’t matter whether you are right or not. It is too late to pull me out of there. Go to the square and you will understand. The students have moved me. They are brave, bright and fearless. Our generation has been too cynical, like the rocks on the beach, which have been washed thousands of times and have lost all their edges. It’s not a sign of maturity but a sign of death. We should be ashamed of it.” Dagong was so excited that the blood vessels on his neck were bulging. He did not realize he was giving a lecture.

“Ok, it’s not my business to tell you what to do but you have to care about our Little Turnip.” Zhang Ping’s voice turned hoarse and choked with tears. She was now sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs dangling like a child. Her face was red and her hair was messy.

“What, what about our son?” Dagong shifted his attention from dresser to Zhang Ping. His two big eyes with black circles stared at her.

“He is lost in the square.” She fell onto the bed again.

“Where is Little Turnip? Where is Little Turnip?” Dagong grabbed Zhang Ping from the bed and shook her shoulders so violently that Zhang Ping hit her head on his chest. Tears mixed with dirt from Dagong’s shirt soiled her face.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I should not have let him go.”

Her face touched his chest, her husband Dagong’s chest. All of the sudden the numbness she had experienced since the movement had started, since Dagong stopped coming home, disappeared. She felt the hurt. Her heart felt hurt.

It was this morning when she and Little Turnip were wandering through the square, squeezing through the packed people and desperately looking for Dagong.

The chaos on the square that morning was all too familiar to her. She suddenly felt like a sleepwalker walking in her dreams. The bodies on the square suddenly became thousands of dead bodies lying there. She saw herself wearing the green uniform and a red armband with yellow letters saying “Red Guards” on it. She carried a gun under her arms. She was forced to fight. She stepped forward reluctantly and then she ran all the way home. At that time she realized that she left Little Turnip at the square.

Dagong stared at the table and at the Little Turnip’s smiley face in the picture frame. He felt like someone had chopped a piece of his heart away. Although Little Turnip was much closer to his mother, Dagong always considered Little Turnip as a precious gift from the God. As a son, Little Turnip would be able to carry on Liang’s family tree.

Dagong carried Zhang Ping on his back and walked out of the room, into the yard and onto the street.

“Da…Dagong, Ge, wa…nt a pop.. Popsicle?” Potatofeet was sitting behind a white wooden Popsicle cart with his crippled legs invisible. Like usual he had a big grin on his face with drool dripping on the edge of his mouth. In his hand there was a piece of baked sweet potato.

Dagong bought a red-bean paste Popsicle. Then he patted Potatofeet’s head and said, “You are doing a great job helping the revolution!”

Potatofeet answered in the same old smile but today with a newly added joy. That was because he was doing something useful.

The Tiananmen Square, after ten days of occupation by the students, had become a huge refugee camp. No buses were running on their regular route. No regular policemen were posted at the traffic intersections directing traffic. People went about by bicycles and scooters. Armed police and soldiers could be seen everywhere. The smell of rotten food, human feces and sweat were lingering in the air. People had to climb onto trees in order to see what was happening. Moving around was the biggest problem. You were surrounded by people and could only be pushed around passively. Only ambulances with their deafening sirens could maneuver freely through the sea of people. There were hundreds of banners on the square. They were not only banners from different universities around the country, but also from factory workers, schoolteachers, high schools students, peasants, journalists, hospitals and surprisingly even the state employees.

Dagong and Zhang Ping were washed into the sea of the people before they realized it. Then it was too late to get out. Just being in the square made them feel better. They felt closer to Little Turnip. From the distance, Dagong could spot Beijing University’s flag. He imagined Baiyun sitting there, shivering with the rest of the hunger strikers beneath the wind, with her porcelain white face turning into a dark oval sunflower seed.

Through the loudspeakers, they heard that the student leaders were waiting in the People’s Congress Meeting Hall to talk to the government. It said that the meeting would be broadcast live when it started. The meeting was the result of the students’ hunger strike and impending visit from the Russia president Gorbachev.

The square suddenly became quieter. Two hundred thousand people were waiting anxiously for this last thread of hope.

“Why don’t you move forward and talk to the man with the microphone about our Little Turnip?” Zhang Ping suggested.

Dagong tried to push through the crowd, but failed.

“Why don’t you shout? He might hear you.”

Dagong’s lips trembled. He shook his head. Tears were lingering around his eyes. Although the loss of Little Turnip was still stirring in his heart, he was like everyone else on the square, waiting quietly for the news that would end this chaos.

“The Government broke their promise. They didn’t want to broadcast the meeting,” someone was yelling in the crowd.

Dagong’s heart sunk. But he secretly wished that this might only be a rumor. It was soon proven that the fellow protester was right and that the government had broken its promise.

“Comrades, how are you?” Premier Zhao Ziyang’s voice came through the loud speaker, “Although our country has arrived at a crucial intersection, please stay calm and restrained. I would like to persuade the hunger strikers to go home. You are our country’s future, should stay alive and healthy. I promise you there will not be retribution for the citizens and students who participated in the movement.” His oratory was getting lower and weaker. It sounded like he was frustrated and hopeless.

“No mention of the dialogue between the government and the students. This must be a hoax,” shouted by someone in the crowd.

Dagong could sense an obvious hopelessness in the speech too. He turned to Zhang Ping and said, “Zhang Ping, why don’t you keep looking for Little Turnip? I’ll have to go to work.” Dagong suddenly remembered that as the head of the Beijing United Worker’s Union, he had responsibilities.

Zhang Ping stared at him, literally stared at his face so hard she felt her eyeballs would fall out. After Dagong had squeezed through the crowd and disappeared, she still stood there frozen.

The time had drifted back to 1966, in the midst of the Cultural Revolution. The Tiananmen Square was filled with people wearing the green army uniform, with a red star on their hats, a red armband on their left arms. Everyone was waving a little red book.

“Long live Chairman Mao! Long live Chairman Mao!” They were chanting like they were in trance.

She had tears in her eyes, she remembered. Like everyone else, she was standing so far from the Forbidden City and she could only imagine Chairman Mao’s large figure on the balcony of the Forbidden City, waving at them. It was so strange that she cried. Maybe it was because everyone else did so in the crowd. A sense of unity and camaraderie moved her. Besides what was the best way to show her loyalty to Chairman Mao and to the Communist Party? That same day, she also shook hands with a comrade who had shaken hands with Chairman Mao. They all tried to smell his hands in order to catch the scent of Chairman Mao’s skin. They clenched his hands hard in order to feel the warmth obtaining from Chairman Mao.

Of course, that was the past, which was considered foolish nowadays. No one could get her to do that anymore. Deep inside her, she knew that she was still sincere. She could turn her heart inside out to prove that. Their innocence was just used by a few power seekers in the government. But it hurt, whenever she thought of it. It was like being cheated once and never believing in anything anymore.

Suddenly the crowd behind her moved. A young worker wearing a red badge came over to push the crowd away.

“Please back off. There are more organized demonstrators coming.”

Zhang Ping flowed with the crowd. Then she saw Little Turnip in the distance. She saw him standing on the balcony of the Forbidden City, waving at her.

“Come here, mommy, come here!”

“Little Turnip!” she ran toward the Forbidden City while squeezing herself through the crowd. Her loud voice did help her to open a path to her goal. Nobody wanted to stop a crazy woman.

Chapter 16

The student dialogue with the government’s propaganda department in the United Front Office again failed since the official media decided not to broadcast it. They also refused to honor student’s demands.

“What’s next?” Baiyun asked herself as she walked out of the building with the rest of News Center students. She left the hunger strikers to file a report at the News Center. People who had been waiting outside for three hours immediately surrounded them.

“Did government agree with our demands?”

“Why didn’t they broadcast the meeting live?”

Baiyun was exhausted due to lack of sleep and food. Without eating anything for nearly two days, the hunger strike had taken a toll on her. She also didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to be the one to announce that the dialogue had failed, and if the students don’t leave the square before Russian president Gorbachev’s visit tomorrow, the government’s troop would move in and clean up the square. Personally she did not want to see it happen. But it was too late now. To move students out of the square at that point would be like trying to empty the ocean. She was no longer afraid. She was proud of being a part of this historical event, able to witness and report on such an exciting movement. If she had to die, she only had one wish. She wanted to be with Dagong, Longfe, Big Li, Yumei and Li Yan. But where were Dagong and Longfe? Last time she saw them was when the police put handcuffs on their hands and dragged them away. This scene had been sitting in her stomach like a rock. She wanted to be with them. Maybe she should try to get herself arrested sometimes. It was worthwhile to die alongside so many important and dedicated people. She and Li Yan exchanged glances as they walked back to the square.

They returned to the Monument after walking around many students who were sleeping, piles of garbage, and the tents, which had occupied every inch of the square. A group of student leaders were arguing about whether they should withdraw from the square or not.

“We have already gained a great deal of momentum in the movement. We should press forward to achieve our goal of asking the government to agree with our demands,” said Big Li who was vehemently against the idea of withdrawing. Stubble had grown on his previously shaved head and his round face had shrunk a little.

“Gorbachev is coming. We have to keep our oath not to disturb the normal functions of the public and the government. So we have to leave the square soon,” said Yumei, who was leaning against Longfe’s chest.

“What? Longfe is back?” Baiyun jumped. Then Li Yan poked her and pointed to the left, where to her surprise, was Dagong. He wore clean shirt and jeans. He was growing a mustache and beard.

Dagong stepped forward and threw his fist into the sky. “I represent all the workers here in support of keeping the movement alive!”

“Dagong!” Baiyun ran toward him and gave him a big hug right in front of everyone. She was no longer shy. Dagong went further. He held her head in his hands starting kissing her passionately. Their lips touched and were melted by their love toward each other. Then they sat down on the step holding each other tightly.

“Dagong, I thought you were arrested. Did you escape? Should I hide you?” Baiyun looked at Dagong puzzled.

“That would be nice if we could hide somewhere for a while,” smiled Dagong. “I guess I don’t have such a luck. They let us go because the top hadn’t decided what to do with us.” He turned and started kissing Baiyun again.

Baiyun didn’t stand up to argue. She was very satisfied to be with Dagong. Although she somehow agreed with Yumei’s logical argument, she wished the movement would go on. She could not imagine how she could go back to her normal school life if the movement suddenly ended. It was like she had opened a mystery book and couldn’t wait to read all the way to the end. The argument ended with no conclusion and the leaders sat down from physical weakness.

Baiyun, feeling exhausted, started to doze off until Dagong’s voice came from a seemingly remote planet.

“My little angel. Can you stay awake?”

“No, my eyelids have been fighting with each other for a while until they both went dead.”

“Oh, no. I hope they were not dead. You can sleep on my laps,” said Dagong while letting Baiyun fell into his lap. He stroked her shining but messy black hair slowly.

“Do you feel warmer now?” Dagong was holding nearly asleep Baiyun.

After an hour, she sat up but soon fell into Dagong’s chest. “What a beautiful night! It is so strange that it is the night while we are waiting to die. Who knows? Maybe we are in heaven already.” She smiled and felt safe in the embrace of Dagong.

“How do you know it is a nice night with your eyes closed?” asked Dagong.

“I can smell the steamed bun in the air. I can hear the breeze blowing by my ears. I can also feel the stars in the clear sky staring at me.”

“Big Li, Big Li.” A woman’s sharp scream broke the momentary silence. Baiyun and Dagong bolted toward the scream. After several days of hunger striking, the unusually strong Big Li finally collapsed. Longfe was holding his body and trying to feed him water. But his mouth clenched tightly, his body shivering. Yumei and others piled blankets on top of his body.

“Maybe we should send him to the hospital,” suggested Longfe.

Xia Nan came over and added: “See, people are dying here. Why don’t we withdraw? We have already done enough.” Since the movement began, he had disappeared for a while. His sudden appearance didn’t surprise anyone who knew him, and did not make him more any persuasive than before. No matter how much sense he made, people just disagreed with him. They booed him instead.

A worker walked by who didn’t know what was going on and joined the conversation.

“Are you a student leader? Shame on you!” He spit on the ground. “You shouldn’t tell people to surrender. You should lead us to fight until the end.” Some leader!

While this was happening, Li Yan did find a motorcycle to take Big Li away. Although even with a high fever, he seemed to know one very important fact --- he wanted to stay. He held on to the tent as they carried him away. The tent tore away and then he tried to hold onto the cement ground. Blood oozed out of his dark and grease covered fingers.

“Don’t take me away. Let tanks roll over my body. There are two hundred thousand people here. Our blood will drown the troops. Our iron bones will ruin their vehicles.” After these seemly last words, Big Li collapsed again.

Baiyun came over and held on to his hands tightly.

“Let him stay. We are going to die together, aren’t we?”

Suddenly there was silence. The word “death” finally registered in everyone’s mind. It seemed that they need a moment to comprehend. The loud music was still playing in the distance. Crickets began chirping.

“Look at the stars in the sky.” Dagong had more experience dealing with crises.

“Yes. The ‘Hunter’ (Orion) is right over my head.” Baiyun replied.

“It’s so clear today and I can see his sword,” said Li Yan.

“Really? Where is it?” Longfe soon realized there was really a constellation named “Hunter” which was over his head in the sky. Yumei showed him once, which was something he didn’t know from growing up in the city.

“Oh, I see. There are arms, head, legs and his belt. I get it.” Longfe was pleased with himself. At this moment, a small victory meant a great deal.

“I have heard we would all become stars after we die,” said Yumei, “maybe we should form a constellation.” Her voice was low but clear.

“Yes. Let’s form a sword that can penetrate the sky. So whenever the Government leaders look into the sky, they will shiver from our mighty strength,” said a young, baby-faced student.

“Let’s turn into thunder and shake this regime into extinction!” Longfe’s sudden poetic skill had surprised everyone.

“Let’s turn into lightening and electrocute those conservative leaders.” Even Li Yan spilled out poetic lines.

“Dagong, I hope we still know each other after we die,” said Baiyun, resting comfortably in Dagong’s chest.

“We will become spirits and will not know the difference,” said Dagong.

“That’s too bad. We haven’t done anything together yet,” said Baiyun regretting that she stopped Dagong last time.

“It is too late, girl. You haven’t enjoyed the greatest joy in the world and now you are going to die, my poor Baiyun.” Dagong scraped his pinky on Baiyun’s small nose. He was teasing her. He understood what Baiyun meant. In fact at this moment, he wished to press his lips against Baiyun’s, and kiss and hug her passionately. Then he would bring them into the highest peak of joy. He knew this was not the time for it. But when? He asked himself sadly. He had lived through most of his live as a dog by tolerating every kind of insult and suffering. The only driving force in his life was to hope that someday a miracle would happen and his fate would turn around. Here, when the happiness finally arrived, he was about to die. This was the fact that was hard for him to swallow.

“What are you thinking?” said Baiyun. She was too tired to open her eyes.

“I’m thinking about what our life is going to be like after we both have gone to heaven.”

“Let me tell you. We are going to have a house among the evergreen trees. We will manage a farm and have half a dozen kids.” The corners of Baiyun’s mouth were lifted up slightly. Her two big eyes opened and stared at Dagong like mirrors.

“Yes. Baiyun.” Dagong kissed her.

“De, de…” A motorcycle stopped by. Both the driver and a rider on the back seat were well equipped with helmets, shining leather jackets and thick quilted pants as if they were impenetrable.

“This is the message from the headquarters of the United Student Union,” after putting on a pair of glasses, the middle aged woman in the motorcycle passenger seat started reading, “We have no intention to withdraw tonight. Our negotiation with the government has failed. We want to force them to the negotiating table again by staying here. With Gorbachev’s visit tomorrow, our movement is going to attract international attention. Up to now, there are no sign of Government troops coming into the square. Rest well and be prepared for tomorrow.”

From the voice, strong and male-like, Baiyun realized that the lady who just read the message was her mother, Meiling. She was stunned. Meiling was among the brave students and ready to sacrifice her life. No longer being ashamed of seeing Meiling sitting on a motorcycle with a younger man, she ran toward them.

“Mother.”

“Baiyun, I’m so glad that I find you here. I have been looking for you,” she held Baiyun’s small face, “let mother look at you.”

“Mother, I’m Ok.” No wanting to be treated like a child, she pushed away Meiling’s hands.

“Ok. Stay here and be strong. Mother is proud of you.” Meiling reached over and hugged her. Then she took out a bag of hard-boiled eggs and handed them over to her.

“I’m a hunger striker, mother,” said Baiyun while trying to push away the eggs.

“You can save it for later.”

Lao Zheng took off his helmet and shook hands with Baiyun. He winked at her and Baiyun looked away immediately. She didn’t like the way Lao Zheng looked at her.

“Mother, I’m proud of you too.” Then she ran away because she could feel tears swelling in her eyes.

“This is your mom? Woo!” After Baiyun’s mother had left, Longfe and others cheered for Baiyun.

“So what? Where is your mother,” shouted Baiyun proudly.

“Our mothers are at home and praying for us. Your mother is the brave one. Hooray!” More cheers came from the crowd.

Baiyun felt proud. Meiling was no longer a mother she was ashamed of; a dirty woman and a whore like neighbors called her behind her back. Now she had a brave and patriotic woman as a mother. What more could she ask? She was also surprised that Meiling hugged her. This was the hug she had been waiting for many years. During the last ten years, she and Meiling were not very close. She disagreed and disliked Meiling’s life style. Meiling’s endless love affairs had caused embarrassment for Baiyun and her crazy old father. For years, she and Meiling’s relationship was business-like. They were business partners to run their household. Or rather Meiling was like a sick sister, who had screwed up her life and could not get back on track; a psychiatric patient who needed Baiyun to consistently confess her problems. Now she had Meiling back.

“Baiyun, you are crying. What has happened to you?” asked Dagong.

Baiyun did not answer. She started dozing off again. She felt peaceful here at the square in the middle of the chaos, especially with Dagong.

After several hours, Baiyun opened her eyes. Dagong was still cradling her head, but with his eyes closed. She saw the sunrise. The sun emitted rays of lights into the eastern sky like streaks of red dye. She suddenly felt that she was sitting on top of a mountain. The Forbidden City and the Monument People’s Hero had turned into golden palaces in the distance. Thousands of sleeping people on the square had become rocks. The wind blew her matted hair and it felt so fresh.

“Dagong, Dagong, where are we? Are we still alive?” Baiyun tried to wake up Dagong.

“What?” Dagong opened his sleepy eyes, “what are you asking?”

“Do you know where we are? Are we still alive?”

“In Tiananmen Square. We are still alive!” Dagong exclaimed.

“Oh, we are not in paradise? We are still alive? I’m so disappointed,” pretended Baiyun.

Then they both jumped up and hugged each other. Then Longfe and Yumei came over.

“We are still alive! We are still alive!” Students, one after another rose up under their thick blankets, and cheered. They were so happy that the government troops didn’t come in, clear up the square and cause the bloodshed.

A new day had started under such an enthusiasm. It was like a big victory, a huge triumph for simply being alive.

Soon an order came from the United Student federation leaders that everyone, and especially the hunger strikers move to the east side of the square.

In order to show the government that they were negotiating in good faith and did not mean to disrupt the first Sino-Soviet summit in thirty years, the student federation was still trying to clear the square or at least the part of it. Of course, it was too late. It was just too chaotic in the square. People asked all sort of questions. “Where is the eastside?” “Why do we have to move?” When someone began to move, others soon filled up the vacancy. Somehow, they moved the hunger strikers to join the students from other colleges.

After eating and drinking something, Big Li had recovered and was strong enough to join the Hunger Strike again. The radio station moved too. Baiyun decided to follow the hunger strikers because they were the biggest news. She switched to be a reporter again from a hunger striker just temporarily. Yumei and Longfe were still holding the fort as hunger strikers despite of Yumei’s poor health. The number of hunger strikers had drastically increased since last night. The number jumped from 300 to near 1000 among just Beijing University students alone.

Yumei hugged Baiyun and said, “Well, I guess our big journalist needs to stay strong and well fed.”

“Yumei, I admire you. Be careful,” said Baiyun, finding tears around her eyes, “Dagong went home to get some blankets. Maybe I will return to the Beida Hunger Strike group tonight.”

Then Baiyun pulled Yumei to the side and whispered into her ears, “Dagong is married, his seven-year old son was lost in the square and his wife has gone crazy.” Baiyun looked straight into Yumei’s eyes waiting for her reaction.

“My God, your life is soooo complicated. I guess misery always looks for company,” said Yumei sympathetically. “You are a big girl and you can deal with it.” Yumei bumped her shoulder to Baiyun’s.

“But how should I deal with it?” yelled Baiyun. She couldn’t believe Yumei’s reaction. This was her happiness they were talking about. In the last few days she had been so happy thinking her white prince had finally arrived. Yet the happiness was so short-lived and it was going to slip away soon. Maybe Meiling was right. It was not worth a while to suffer through the pain.

“All my life I just want peace. You see what I end up getting?” Baiyun started sobbing.

“It is because you are crazy and weird,” Yumei’s voice was getting louder.

“I agree with you one hundred percent!” answered Baiyun.

“Baiyun, don’t worry. You should enjoy while you can. Who knows how long we are going to be alive,” said Yumei while looking deeply into Baiyun’s eyes. She gave Baiyun one more hug and walked away to join the other hunger strikers.

As usually, Baiyun decided to concentrate on the work at the news center to deal with the current crisis. Since so many people had joined the hunger strike, she felt that the News Center needed her even more to cover such an important historical event. At this time, she enjoyed being an individual. Besides she liked being a journalist. Dagong has been serving as the sole radio repairman at the News Center besides being the head of the Beijing Worker’s Union and the leader of hunger strikers among the workers. But he had to deal with his own family crisis first.

By the time they set up the news center again, it was already 11:00am. There was still no sign of Gorbachev. Then the news came in through the radio broadcast. The welcome ceremony had taken place at the airport instead of Tiananmen Square. Then she heard Dagong organized a worker’s water fast behind a group of students who had poured gasoline on their bodies and were ready to set themselves on fire. They were protesting Government’s refusal to conduct a direct dialogue with the students.

“Where are Dagong and his water fast group?” Baiyun asked Broomstick, a messenger on the motorcycle.

“They are in front of the Zhongnanhai compound, right in the center of the power.”

Baiyun nodded. Zhongnanhai was the top Chinese official’s residence. Protesting in front of it meant visibility and danger, which, of course, was no longer an issue. Most people here on the square were either thinking about death or ready to die.

Broomstick, moving closer, asked Baiyun “Are you Dagong’s girlfriend?”

“Yes,” said Baiyun. Baiyun felt proud even though Dagong was married. But at this time of life and death, details like that didn’t seem to matter.

“You’d better get there soon. They have been there for almost two hours. They refuse to eat or drink anything. People were pouring water onto their faces but they refused it. And some of those students could set themselves on fire anytime,” said Broomstick anxiously.

Baiyun jumped onto the back of Broomstick’s scooter and raced to the Zhongnanhai compound as fast as she could. “Self Immolation - Burning oneself to death” was an idea that appalled Baiyun. Baiyun’s aunt had burnt herself to death by pouring gasoline all over her in a bathtub due to a psychological condition originated during the Cultural Revolution. Although she was not there when it happened, the event had given her many nightmares.

Baiyun had to jump off the scooter half mile from the Zhongnanhai compound. With the number of people surrounding it, it was impossible to go forward. Fortunately with her special radio station pass, she was able to go through the crowd to get to the front.

Sitting in a row behind a white line were five young men with shaved heads. They wore monks’ gray cotton robs and sat cross-legged. They held their palms together right in front of their noses. Their gasoline-coved heads were shining under the sun like huge pearls. Their robes had been drenched with gasoline. A cigarette lighter was located in front of them. Behind them was a row of water fast workers who wore white shirts and black pants. They sat in the same gesture as the front row protesters with their backs erect and heads slightly bowed.

At this moment, Dagong was arguing with a soldier whose bayonets directly pointed at Dagong’s neck. There were a dozen soldiers with rifles in their hands guarding the gate to the Zhongnanhai compound.

“What do you want?” said the soldier.

“I want to go inside.” Dagong’s voice sounded hoarse.

“What for?”

“Do you see people are dying? Do you have … eyes to see that?” At his emotional peak, Dagong was stuttering, “These…these precious students are preparing to burn themselves to death!” He shouted and his neck even touched the tip of the bayonet a few more times, “I want to talk to a government official!”

“Who are you?” an officer came out of the gate.

“I’m the head of the Beijing Workers Union.”

“Ok, come here.”

Dagong followed him closer to the gate. The soldiers stepped aside.

“Dagong! Dagong!” Zhang Ping showed up at this moment. Restrained by several people holding her arms, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Who is that? Is that woman calling you?” asked the officer.

“Yes,” Dagong looked at the direction where the voice came from, “That’s my wife. We just lost a child.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” said the officer with a smirk.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. You should feel sorry for these students.” Dagong raised his voice again.

“But you know the central committee members are busy now,” said the officer with a fake smile. He looked calm. One could tell that he had been through this kind of situation many times.

“What can be more urgent than this?” Dagong walked closer to him and cornered him against the wall. “Look at these students. Do you know that they are suffering?” Dagong pointed his arm toward the demonstrators.

“Two water fast demonstrators just fainted.” Someone yelled in the crowd.

“Can you hear this? Do you have ears?”

The official nodded and didn’t say anything.

Suddenly the crowd moved away from Dagong toward the demonstrators.

“Stop the fire! Oh, my God!”

Dagong darted toward the crowd. It was obvious that someone had started burning himself.

Baiyun was stunned while this was happening. Always proud of herself as a tough girl, the scene in front of her was a little too much. Her head was expanding. She felt dizzy after several days of exhaustion. All she could do was trying hard to memorize every detail that was happening here. Her brain was like a rusty machine cranking along.

First she saw Dagong facing the soldier’s bayonet by the gate of the Zhongnanhai compound. Before she could join him, she heard his wife Zhang Ping’s screaming. Then she saw the fire rising in front of her face. She had to admit that she covered her eyes for a moment to avoid seeing the burning demonstrator. But she could still hear the demonstrator’s warning and people’s shouting. The figure in the fire was glowing. The yellowish fire surrounded him like a ring, and gradually it had engulfed him. His bald head was smooth and his gray robe was rapidly disappearing. His hands were folding together, praying with his eyes closed. Like a Buddha toward the incarnation, his ashes were rising toward the heaven.

“Baiyun, Baiyun.” Baiyun opened her eyes and found herself held tight by Dagong. He was holding a water cup in his hand. His face had narrowed even more. The stubble on his face made him look wild. She liked it. Her hands touched his prickly beard.

“Baiyun, welcome to the world. You have scared us,” said Dagong.

“Where are we?”

“We are back to the Beida station again.”

“What has happened to the student who burnt himself?”

“Oh, he is alright. We put out the fire on his body by throwing blankets at him and pouring water on him. He was sent to a hospital. He suffered third degree burns. The Government agreed to hold another talk with the students. Right now the dialogue delegation is having a meeting with the government at the United Front office,” said Dagong in a rapid pace.

“I see,” then Baiyun looked around, “what is happening there?” Baiyun saw a few people sit around a circle, talking.

“They are talking about Big Li who is in the serious condition.”

“Really?” Baiyun stood up. Her body waved due to the dizziness.

“Baiyun, are you alright?” asked Dagong.

“I’m fine now.” She walked toward the crowd.

“Big Li, Big Li!” She ran toward him.

“Be careful!” said someone.

Bundled up in a thick blanket, Big Li was lying there calmly. His head was covered with thin layer of hair. He had grown a thin mustache and the start of a beard. His face was as gray as dust.

“He has calmed down a lot after I gave him the injection,” said a middle-aged lady sitting next to him, “He has been in and out of the consciousness.”

“What are you going to do with him,” asked Baiyun.

“I called the ambulance two hours ago. I hope it will come soon,” said a young lady.

Baiyun stared at Big Li and really felt sorry for him. Holding his hands hot from the fever, she leaned forward to take a good look at him.

“Big Li, this is Baiyun,” her tears started dripping onto his face.

“Baiyun,” Big Li opened his eyes, “where are you?” he looked around and tried to locate Baiyun.

“I’m here,” she faked a smile on her face.

“Baiyun, thank you for……coming…….coming to see me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Baiyun held his hand and cried.

“If you……survive this…… Would you go to my home and…….tell my……Dad what……had happened?”

“Yes.”

“Keep up the good…….work….. Don’t…….don’t ……give……up,” his head rolled to the side. He lost consciousness again.

Baiyun leaned forward and hugged him. Then the ambulance came and took him away. The bad news came soon after that.

“The dialogue failed again. The government rejected our demands for a Free Press and a Multi-party government. They also refused to acknowledge us for being patriotic,” said a motorcycle messenger.

This part of the square suddenly became quiet. Some stopped arguing about the food. Some stopped playing cards. Some stopped distributing the blankets for the evening. They were all simply petrified.

Someone started singing “The Internationale”, a song for the international workers and the socialists. More followed and soon it spread over the whole Tiananmen Square.

“Arise, the damned of the earth,

Arise, prisoners of hunger,

Reason thunders in its crater,

It is the eruption of the end!

Let's make a blank slate of the past,

Crowds, slaves, arise, arise!

The world is going to change from its base,

We are nothing, let's be everything!

This is the final struggle

Let us gather, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be mankind!”

Sitting against Dagong’s chest, Baiyun could feel his heart beating. The fact he had a wife and a son seemed so trivial now. She felt so fortunate to have met him. She was very much in love with him. How much she wished to hug him and kiss him now. But she knew this was not the time. Through the song “The Internationale”, she felt the solidarity with thousands of people on the square. “Yes, we were determined. We were determined to sacrifice our youth for a new China”. She said to herself then she turned her head and kissed Dagong, perhaps for the last time.

Chapter 17

“I don’t believe that those bastards will fail us! Down with Marshall Law!” Pumpkin’s voice can be heard before she entered the gate to the yard. She stopped at the gate, rolled her bicycle front wheel over the wooden door edge, and then lifted the back of the bicycle over it, which was weighed down by two sacks of wheat flour. On the handle bar, there were two nylon bags full of noodles, bok choy, potatoes and a dead chicken.

“I almost lost my old life in order to get this food. The Marshall Law has been declared, stores have closed and many people have gone home to hide. There are still plenty brave ones on the square,” said Pumpkin sitting on a stool and breathing heavily.

“Hey, you’d better be careful. You could be thrown into jail if you say something wrong,” said Marshmallow, who was sitting on the step by their apartment door, smoking.

“You can’t wait to get rid of me,” Pumpkin snapped back.

“Hi, mother.” Little Pea came out to welcome her mother.

Wearing an apron around her waist, Little Pea was chopping vegetables in the yard on a table by the sink. Their kitchen was only big enough to hold their stove. She put down what she was doing and walked over to help Pumpkin unload the groceries.

“Be careful, don’t let the flour get wet,” said Pumpkin to Marshmallow who lifted the two sacks of flour from the bicycle. The yard floor was full of laundry water.

“Ok, I know, old woman,” said Marshmallow while walking back to their room.

“Where is Yu Gong,” asked Pumpkin.

“He is still in the square and working for the ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’ by zooming around in motorcycles. He sent me back to cook more food so he can distribute it around. Just before I left, they were doing something really crazy,” she resumed her vegetable chopping; “They were puncturing the bus’s tires, so nobody could use them to transport the demonstrators back home.”

“That’s great,” said Pumpkin while wiping her forehead with her sleeve.

“Look at that crazy woman,” said Marshmallow who just came out of their room.

“Mother, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll get the dinner ready in just a few minutes.” Little Pea dropped the chopped bok choy into a frying pan, and then mixed it with some ground pork and scallions.

“No, I want to have some snacks quickly and go to the square.” Pumpkin ran toward their room.

“What can I say?” He sighed. “She just wants to leave me,” said Marshmallow.

“Hey, old man, we have been married for thirty years. You have never cared about me so much before. What has happened?” said Pumpkin with one of her feet already stepping into their room.

Marshmallow stood up and walked over toward Pumpkin. He suddenly pulled at her shirt collar.

“Old woman, it is dangerous there. Don’t you know that?” His voice was low but firm. One could tell that it directly came from his heart.

Pumpkin was stunned. She was silent for a while. “Ok, I will be careful. But I have to go and take a look.”

“Okay, but let me go with you,” Marshmallow followed her.

“Don’t follow me like a shadow. If you really want to go with me, you’d better prepare to do something.” She stood arms akimbo like a woman warrior. “I don’t want to just go and watch which direction the wind blows.” She waved her arms.

“You want to poke holes in bus tires like those kids? Don’t you care about your own life? Let me tell you that it is against the law to damage public property. There are video cameras everywhere on the square. It will haunt you after the fact.” Marshmallow’s voice was unusually high. Unlike his usual easy going self, his face was livid. His head tilted to one side as though he was trying to make a point. Occasionally saliva sprayed out of his mouths as he spoke.

“Let her go. They may well be successful,” said Lao Liu, the policeman while still looking at the plant in his hands. He was holding a small branch freshly cut from a rose bush. He put the branch into a pot and started pouring sand into it. He was pouring so slowly as though he was counting the sand grains as they fell into the pot. Since the movement had started, he became a full time gardener. He had moved all his roses from pots to the ground in the yard. The red, yellow, purple, pink and even green roses bloomed better than ever. He even built a wooden fence for them.

“Really, do you have any insider knowledge?” asked Marshmallow. He immediately turned back from the gate.

“No. I haven’t been at work for three weeks. I don’t know what is going on. I have been sick, which was the best way I could help the students.” He raised his head, a pair of small-framed reading glassed hanging on his nose. “Now I have a feeling that the situation might be dicey, hard to predict. The scale of the movement has surprised me.”

Marshmallow nodded and then turned around. He found his wife was gone. “That woman!” He quickly went out of the door. Lao Liu resumed his work. Then Mr. Wang’s black cat sauntered over and sniffed at the flow pot.

“The weather will be changing!” Mr. Wang strolled out of the door with a pipe in his hand. Lao Liu smiled and didn’t respond. Mr. Wang stepped down one step and sat down without looking. He stared straight ahead, his face was serious and his eyes unlinked. He seemed to be meditating.

Mrs. Wang came out of the door with a chamber pot in one hand, pushing the door closed with the other. Her four boys were pushing behind the door and trying hard to get out. They were like birds eager to get out of the cage.

“God damn, don’t try to sneak out,” said Mrs. Wang. She stood against the door firmly. Then with an extra push, she locked it.

“Don’t keep telling people about the changing weather. It just rained and it is not raining now. So what’s new?” Mrs. Wang asked. Still sitting, Mr. Wang didn’t say a word. Mrs. Wang walked to the water tap in the middle of the yard and poured the urine into the drain. She turned on the tap and let water run for a while. The water splashed onto her folded-up pants despite her efforts to stay as far as she could from the drain. The water was dripping from the roof that collected from the rain. It sounded very crisp.

“My roof leaked during the rain. I hope there is no more heavy rain before I can get my roof fixed. How about your roof, Lao Liu?”

“Mine is getting better. It leaks at the corner. I managed to glue a piece of plastic onto the roof since the repairman never showed up,” said Lao Liu while concentrating on trimming more rosebush cutoffs.

“I see that you are lucky. My leak was pretty big. I have to put a pail under it to collect the water. I guess this rain may be good for your roses. But for me it’s trouble.” Mrs. Wang started rubbing clothes on a washboard in a basin. The bubbles jumped out of the basin like snowflakes.

“This previous one was OK. But a heavy one could be very damaging. Before, when these roses were still in pots, I could move them in when it rained heavily. But now I can do nothing since I planted them permanently in the ground so they can grow more freely. But freedom always involves risk. I hope the students understand that.”

“Is that what they want, freedom?” asked Mrs. Wang while still beating the laundry.

“Yes, young people want to be free to do things and say things.”

“That sounds ridiculous. A country is like a family. Without rules and laws, even a family can’t run smoothly,” said Mrs. Wang seriously.

“The storm is coming. The seagulls are still fighting in the sky!” Mr. Wang shouted passionately as though he was acting in a play.

“You old man, stop. Don’t disturb our normal conversation,” said Mrs. Wang.

Like suddenly being shocked with electricity, Mr. Wang jumped up. Slapping his knees with one hand, he raised the other, pointing to the door with the pipe. “You goddamn woman, get out of here. Don’t stay so close to me. Go!”

“Ok, I go. You can take care of the kids. You can cook. You can do these too.” She pushed the basin full of soapy clothes toward him. Because of the wet floor, the basin slid toward him in such a great speed that it almost spilled all over him. As Mrs. Wang walked away, the boys suddenly broke the door open and dashed into different directions.

“For heaven’s sake!” Mrs. Wang turned around and started chasing them along the corridor like chasing escaped chickens.

Little Pea and Yu Gang sat in front of a table by their door, rolling out the dough, knead it into a long rope, cutting them into small round disks, roll them into the small round skin, putting the meat in the center and closing them by gathering up all the edges to the center to make steam bread.

“It’s finally quiet here. I can’t believe that it was completely different just minutes ago. Without mom and dad, don’t you feel strange?” said Little Pea.

“No, I don’t think so. This is the way we ought to live,” said Yu Gang quietly.

“Don’t be dreaming. Look at outside. Troops are coming to town. Who knows what the outcome will be. Maybe we will go back to the ‘Cultural Revolution’. We may never be able to own our apartment.”

“Maybe you are right. If this movement drags on, I’m beginning to miss my job. I really want to go back to work.”

Little Pea didn’t answer. Although she was not a slogan shouter by nature, she sort of liked the movement. First of all, her mother Pumpkin became much nicer and generous. She had turned into an excitable and happy mom from a loud complainer. Life for her had turned into a joy and adventure instead of tedious and routine. She and Yu Gang had a chance to run from one side of the Tiananmen Square to the other, shouting and singing along with others. She learned how to dance Disco and sing modern songs. After standing behind the food stand for days, for the first time in her life she realized that she could not only feed people but also make them laugh. She had changed too from a shy and quiet girl to a mature and outgoing lady. She even could argue with Yu Gang loudly, no more submissive little girlfriend. Actually, she thought Yu Gang liked her better this way. This had never happened even during the peak of their relationship. Through her education and upbringing, she believed that steady hard work brought happiness at the end. In the last few weeks, she had more fun than she ever had in her life. Besides distributing the steamed pork buns to the demonstrators, she also sang and danced. What would all this bring her? At work, if she worked hard, she would be elected as a worker’s hero in the past; now she would be rewarded with a bonus. What would the demonstration bring her, freedom? All she knew was that people still needed to eat and stay in a shelter in a free world. She was not even sure that all the students understood what they were doing. Some of them seemed enjoying being there, staying away from their school and families. They were still kids.

“Yu Gang, I don’t think that we can make any difference,” said Little Pea while putting the last pork bun into the steamer. She was making dinner for her family and wished that her parents would come back soon. “Since so many people have participated in the movement, I don’t think we will be punished for being involved,” she continued.

“Well, we can’t control that either.” Yu Gang stood up and pulled Little Pea toward him. He gave her a forceful kiss. “Let’s go in.”

Little Pea pulled her head back, stared at him for a second and gave him a beautiful smile. They walked into Little Pea’s apartment, shoulder to shoulder.

This was the biggest benefit coming out of the student’s movement. They could use Little Pea’s empty apartment to enjoy the greatest joy in the relationship --- intercourse, in bed instead of in the bushes.

Zhang Ping was helped into the yard by Pumpkin and Marshmallow. She was shouting in some Cultural Revolution slogans.

“Red Guards, Red Guards,

Stand Up.

Sweep, sweep

The capitalist’s running dog,

Into the historical garbage!

Long live Chairmen Mao!

Long live Cultural Revolution!”

Potatofeet trailed behind with a cup in hand. The water was swooshed around due to his unsteady hands and bouncing steps.

“Ok, Zhang Ping, be quiet. Here we are. We are home now.” Pumpkin patted Zhang Ping while trying to restrain her from waving her arms. But Zhang Ping struggled forward, stamping her feet hard on the concrete yard floor, glad to have the platform to perform on.

“Poor girl. What can we do?” said Pumpkin. Then she turned toward her husband Marshmallow who was trying to calm Zhang Ping down by holding her arms.

“Hi, old man, why don’t you say something?” said Pumpkin.

As soon as they stopped in the yard, Zhang Ping started struggling even harder. She kicked Pumpkin and Marshmallow on the legs and hit their faces with clenched fists. “You arrested the revolutionary red guard. You are the capitalist’s running dog.”

“See, what can I do? She is a wild animal. We can’t stop her. Nobody can stop her. Besides the whole town is crazy,” said Marshmallow.

“You’re useless!” said Pumpkin, “let’s bring her into our apartment and tie her on the bed.”

“No, don’t. Please let her go. She will be tired in a while,” said Mrs. Wang.

As soon as they released her, she leaped onto the corridor in front of Mrs. Wang’s apartment. She was jumping while singing. She waved her fists forcefully into the air while shouting “Long Live Chairman Mao! Long Live the Cultural Revolution!” Pushing her sleeves high and arms akimbo, she was marching forward on the corridor that was all along the apartment. As she was marching along, the flowerpots and the wash basins on the corridor railing fell down one by one along the way.

“Planting flowers is stinky capitalist’s idea. We should dig them out of their roots.” Mr. Wang, his four boys and the cat looked out of their window nervously. Their eyes flinched as Zhang Ping passed by.

Lao Liu rushed out of his door and threw his arms into the sky. “Help! Help! Help to stop this crazy woman.”

Before Lao Liu could get a hold of her, she jumped onto the top of the railing where the flowerpots used to be. She danced and sang in rhythm. Her style was between a marching band and the acrobat. She showed an incredible ability to balance on this narrow strip of the platform. Not knowing what to do, Lao Liu along with the rest of neighbors was watching her. Little Pea and Yu Gang had come out of their apartment and joined the crowd. It was like a mad woman finally conquered the world. The people were worshipping their newly crowned queen even though their queen was in a rage. In their hearts, they actually agreed with Zhang Ping. They were all crazy in the last few weeks. Nobody was working. They were throwing a tantrum over their government. Zhang Ping was a performer who was demonstrating what was in each of their minds, a mirror in which they could see themselves. Was this an outpouring of her insanity or her pent-up energy accumulated after years of living under an oppressive regime? They were watching her as they were questioning themselves.

“Mom and Dad!” Broomstick, Little Pea’s brother broke the silence. He came into the yard accompanied by the noise of a scooter.

“Mom and Dad, what are you doing here? There are tanks, even missiles moving toward Beijing. I just saw four yellow jacket airplanes over my head. And truckloads with more soldiers have already started moving into the square.”

Pumpkin, Marshmallow and Mrs. Wang turned around and stared at Broomstick as though they could not comprehend what he was saying. Zhang Ping hypnotized them all into such a trance that reality did not matter anymore. This had scared Broomstick who did not know what had happened to them. Looking numb and lost, he joined the crowd.

“Aaeh…… Comrade, let’s march forward!” In a fraction of second, she jumped off the corridor railing and galloped toward the gate. At the same time, she threw her fists into the sky and shouted, “Long Live Chairman Mao! Long Live the Revolution!” The spectators followed. But nobody could go as fast as she could.

As they passed the alley, Little Pea’s brother Potatofeet found his water stand where he used to sell tea.

“Mother, someone tip over…over my wa…ter can, mother.” He cried. Tears and snot covered his face. He tried to walk faster but his deformed feet did not help. He was in no way going to catch up with everyone. Pumpkin stopped and wiped his face with the corner of her sleeve.

“Wait here, Ok! I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Then she ran away toward the street where the crowd gathered.

Zhang Ping just reached the end of the alley where the wide Changan street began. It was full of people confronting a column of army vehicles. Hundreds of people including citizens and students locked their arms and tried to stop the arm trucks loaded with soldiers going forward. As soon as Zhang Ping arrived, they gradually opened a pass way for her. Her loud voice and hysteria had an unspeakable command over them.

“Hey, this is a real brave one.”

“Let her go forward.”

“I think she must just come out of the psychiatric ward.”

“So what is wrong with that? Even the mental patients know what justice is.”

Zhang Ping rushed in front of the first truck that was packed with soldiers in green uniforms with rifles in hand. Her perm hair was dry and pointing up which made her head resemble a male lion. She locked her arms against her waist like an angry animal. Her excited face was like an eggplant, long and purple.

“Hey, soldier, you want to harvest the revolutionary fruit? No way!” Then she was doing the revolutionary dance again. This time she was doing Yong Ge, a harvest street dance in which one had to swing their arms and hips while walking.

Soldiers were dumbfounded. They stared at her and did not know what to do. It was not that they felt helpless in front of a mentally ill woman. They were confronted with a whole square full of crazy people. They were worried about their own sanity. They asked themselves why they didn’t join the crowd.

“The People’s friends are my friends!

The People’s enemies are my enemies!”

After reciting that saying of Chairman Mao’s, she turned around and faced the crowd. She sat down cross-legged. Then she started conducting with her arms.

“The east is red.

The Sun is rising.

China had gotten a Mao Zedong…”

She was singing one of the oldest communist’s songs and China’s most popular song. Like magic, the crowd started singing too, then the troops.

Dagong, who tried to go home but stuck in the crowd on the square, had been watching Zhang Ping for a while. It was clear in his mind that his wife was crazy. He fought hard to get through the heavily packed crowd in order to get closer to her until the crowd started singing along with her. The crowd’ patriotic attitude had moved him. He stopped moving forward and joined the singing. Like many people around him, he could feel tears rolling down from corners of his eyes. He shared others’ passion and frustration. During their desperate move --- using their bodies to stop government’s army trucks and tanks, they still tried to worship their dying god --- Mao Zedong. They did not ridicule him. They just wanted government officials to hear their voices and understand that they still loved China just as much as they did. They just wanted to voice their demands more openly. Now they wished that Chairman Mao had heard it. Maybe he would have reacted differently.

Chapter 18

When Baiyun heard that Martial Law was going to be imposed, she did not react at all. It seemed that she had already known everything. That was what Dagong said. Actually that was not the reason. The real reason was that she had become fearless. Then she heard a girl from the Federation Headquarters coming to the broadcast station to announce that the hunger strike was over. Since the surrounding area was so noisy, it turned out that her speech was not effective at all.

“Why don’t we go to the square to be messengers ourselves?” Someone suggested.

“Ok, I would like to do it.” Baiyun jumped up immediately. She felt bored. Since the Martial Law was declared, everyone had a feeling that the movement was going to be over. Students began eating the reserved food and signing paraphernalia for each other. Baiyun offered her white broad brimmed hat for others to sign. Very soon, her hat was full of reddish signatures and comments like “A hard working girl”, “A good writer”, and “Baiyun, you are wicked.” Baiyun folded her hat and put it in her jeans pocket carefully.

Yumei came over. “Baiyun, do you want to walk around the square?”

“Yes. You have read my mind.” Then Baiyun looked at Dagong who just was sitting and staring at students. They were fighting to get an autograph from the woman student leader who made the announcement to suspend the “Hunger Strike”. Dagong did not join the autograph crowd. Baiyun thought that maybe he was too shy or maybe just deep in thought.

“Hey, what are thinking about?” Baiyun hit him on the shoulder. “Do you want to walk with us on the square?”

Dagong looked at her and nodded. Then he stood up slowly and wiped off the dust on his bottom with his hand. “I’ll walk with you for a while. But I need to stop at home soon when I still can,” said he slowly trying not to make Baiyun jealous over his wife.

“Oh, that’s what you are thinking about. You are different, a man with a family. You have to think twice before facing death,” said Yumei teasingly.

“You kids don’t understand!” Dagong walked away from them, but the two girls followed.

“He just lost a son.” Baiyun whispered to Yumei. “I really feel sorry for him. But I don’t know how to comfort him. I’m so inept at such things. What do you think?”

Yumei smiled, “I don’t know,” said she, pretending not paying much attention about it.

“Come on, Yumei. Even though you’re younger, you are much more experienced in such matters. I’m a book worm and you are not.” Baiyun nudged Yumei.

“What experience? What are you girls whispering about?” said Dagong. He suddenly stopped walking and turned around.

“We are talking about you.” Both girls answered in unison.

“Ok, you can talk about me all you want. I have to go,” Dagong resumed walking toward his home while Baiyun and Yumei walked toward the center of the square.

“Do you love him?” asked Yumei.

“Yes.”

“That’s the best comfort you can offer,” said Yumei.

“I’m a Marshal here. Who are you? Everyone has to show her pass in order to pass through here.” A short guy wearing a red armband and a white headband spoke with heavy southern accent. He tried to block Baiyun and Yumei.

“Ok, here it is.” Yumei showed him her pass.

“No. This is yesterday’s pass. We just issued new ones,” said the Marshal seriously.

“This is absurd. We’ve just come from the Broadcast station,” Yumei pointed her hand toward the Monument of People’s Hero. “We have an important message for the hunger strikers.”

“Ok, there is a tent full of ‘Dare to Die’ hunger strikers over there,” he waved his arm toward his back. “You can talk to them but don’t go any further.”

“How come they suddenly changed the passes and even the Marshals are brand new,” said Baiyun as she and Yumei were walking away.

“Power struggle. The hunger strike leaders have been fighting with the Federation leaders in controlling the square for a long time. I work for the Federation so I know. It’s terrible that people are fighting for their own jealous needs while everyone is facing life and death decisions. They even fought over who was going to announce the ending of the Hunger Strike. If we fail the movement, I think they are to blame.” Yumei sounded much more mature. Since the movement had started, she had lost some weight, especially after she recovered from her illness. Her original dancer’s slender figure had been trimmed down to almost a child’s body.

“Don’t talk about failure. It sounds like a bad omen.” Baiyun hated to see the movement to be over. In a period of month, she had gotten used to this lifestyle, sleeping under the sky, and running around the square all day long and sharing the company of like-minded friends. She could no longer be satisfied with a life consisting of the library, dorm and cafeteria anymore. She wished that this lifestyle could go on forever. If not, she was ready to die. She thought about death a lot recently. The more she thought about it, the less frightening it became. She should have been dead a few times already, she was telling herself. She was living on the borrowed time, which would not run forever. Now the “Martial Law” had been declared. The government had tightened its grip. She could almost envision tanks moving in and soldiers opening fire on students and citizens. She was no longer afraid. Before she wished if she could die with Dagong, she would be fine with it. Now as long as she could sacrifice her life with some of her friends like Longfe or Yumei, she could be very happy.

Tiananmen Square had been cleared somewhat since Marshal Law had been declared. It was a bright sunny day, which reminded everyone that summer was nearly here. Students were running around in shorts and skirts. It is strange that the atmosphere on the square was suddenly so relaxed. It was almost like a festival and a celebration. Students were walking around the square, congratulating each other and signing memorabilia. In the background, students’ stereos were playing popular music once more. Although the trash including sunflower seed shells, peanut shells and apple peels became more visible due to the withdrawing of the people, the newly pitched tents from students from Hong Kong had added color to the square.

Under a large red tent in front of the People’s Congress Meeting Hall, Baiyun and Yumei discovered ten brave hunger strikers. It was hard to believe that ten people could fit in such a small tent. Their small size had made it possible. Most of them crowded together under a very large floral blanket, sleeping or simply lying there with their eyes shut, some of whom had earphones in their ears. There was only one lonely girl sitting in the corner reading a book. Like everyone else, she wore a white headband. Her face was pale but full. Among these cluster of dry-up skinny and grotesque faces, it was amazing how good she looked. Maybe she was a new hunger striker, Baiyun thought. When they crawled into the tent, both Baiyun and Yumei shouted.

“Aaeh, Wenjing, is that you?”

Slowly raising her smooth face, Wenjing looked at them through the top of her glasses like a scholar.

“Hi, Yumei and Baiyun.”

“You, scholar! How did you suddenly become a hero?” Yumei went over and hit her on the shoulder lightly.

“I’m not,” she sounded a little weak, “Don’t tell anyone I have been sneaking in chocolate bars in the first few days. But I’m used to it now. It should be good for my weight loss program.” Yumei and Baiyun laughed. At this moment, Wenjing still had a good sense of humor.

“So you decide to become an activist,” asked Baiyun.

“Nope,” said Wenjing while waving a TOEFL review book, “I can still study the TOEFL exam here.”

“You, rascal!” Yumei hit her again on the shoulder. “As long as you have books to read, you’ll never die of a hungry scholar.”

“And I can be a hunger striker at the same time!” Wenjing smiled. Her small eyes formed into a thin line behind her thick white glasses.

“Now, I represent the Federation to declare that the Martial Law has been declared by the government,” said Yumei, “In order to preserve our strength and save lives, the Federation decides to stop the hunger strike and ask everyone to get ready to withdraw.” Yumei sat with her legs crossed and her back erect, she conveyed her message with authority.

“What Martial Law?” Some of the students started to wake up, rubbing their eyes with the back of their hands.

Yumei repeated the message. After that there were hardly any reactions. Some of the hunger strikers even went back to sleep.

“Did you hear me?” asked Yumei desperately. “Are you still alive? Am I talking to a group of dead people?”

“We have already decided to die several weeks ago,” murmured someone.

“I rather die than give in to the government.” Another one mumbled.

“This is an order. Do you know? We, as an organization, have to work together.”

“Who are you?”

“Ok, I should have introduced myself earlier. My name is Huang Yumei. I’m the Secretary General of the Beijing branch of the Student Federation. I used to work for the dialogue delegation.” Yumei’s voice sounded a little angry.

“I have never heard of the dialogue delegation,” someone snapped back. This was like plug that was stuck into Yumei’s mouth, which made impossible for Yumei to speak.

“Martial Law has been declared today!” The president of China, Yang Shangkun’s voice could be heard in the radio. “Troops are moving into the city. Any organizations, any groups and anyone who still remain in the square will suffer from severe consequences.”

As finally being convinced, some of the students struggled to get up.

“Ok, if you have food, please eat them. We will get the federation’s buses to come and pick you up,” said Yumei urgently.

“Do you have any food,” asked Baiyun.

“No, we haven’t stored food here for a while. We are HUNGER STRIKING here!”

“Ok, we’ll try to get some for you,” said Yumei.

When Yumei and Baiyun got out of the tent, the whole square was stirred up again.

“New hunger strike! New hunger strike organized by Professor Chen Ninyuan! We need 200,000 people, the largest in the history to protest the government’s outrageous decision!”

“Comrades, keep the good work!” Someone ran over and poked his head into the tent and yelled.

Students in the tent flopped back to their blankets. Yumei and Baiyun stared at each other.

“Ok, at least we will tell Federation to transfer you into a bus,” said Yumei before leaving the “Dare to Death” hunger strikers.

Yumei and Baiyun could feel the newly heated atmosphere in the square through the cool breeze around them. Although the number of people on the square had decreased, every one of them (mostly students) was as energetic as before. They followed the crowd to the Monument of People’s Hero where the main Hunger Striker stage was still centered.

There were twenty to fifty vehicles around the Monument of People’s Hero, most of which were buses filled with student hunger strikers. It was an unusual situation here. The monument, which was a sacred place and used to be a place where people came to pay tribute to people’s heroes, now had become a Rock & Roll concert stage. People ran around, wearing white headbands and arm bands which said, “Long Live Democracy”, “Rather Die than Give Up” and “Fighting to the Last Drop of Blood”. People were not fixing the buses but were rather taking them apart. Tires were punctured flat, and the steering wheels were pulled off. The place was more like a junkyard. On the other side of the monument, there was a Rock & Roll concert with the famous singer Cui Jian on stage. People were cheering and roaring. Immersed in this moving atmosphere, Yumei and Baiyun strolled around the monument and absorbed everything. Yumei, a good singer and dancer, was humming the current song along with the crowd while Baiyun could not help but write her news article about this spectacle in her head.

“Yumei, have you noticed this?” Baiyun pulled Yumei’s arm to go through a narrow avenue between buses. They approached the neatly trimmed pine trees around the monument. Instead of green, the trees were white because they were covered with white cloth. This very much resembled the time when Premier Zhou died fifteen years ago when the same trees were covered with white paper flowers decorated by millions of Beijing citizens to mourn the death of Premier Zhou.

“It looks so sad,” said Baiyun.

“They were some of the hunger striker’s death wills.” Yumei stopped humming and started examining the white strips of cloth carefully.

“Look at this one.” Yumei pulled Baiyun closer.

Dear Mom,

When you see this message, I probably do not exist anymore. Please don’t feel sad. Your son doesn’t have time to pay back your love because his motherland needs him for an even more important mission. Mother, stop crying. Look around you. You can see your son smiling among hundreds of smiling faces. Mother, stop weeping. You should be proud of your son who contributes to the happiness of millions.

“It was written in blood,” said Baiyun. “Don’t you think we should join the Hunger Strike again?”

“I have been thinking about it,” said Yumei while looking at the hundreds of white strips on the square-cut pine shrubs around the monument.

“I don’t think the News Center needs me now. I used to think that I’m a writer so my job is to observe life and record it. Now I want more. I want to experience life fully using my blood or even my life,” said Baiyun. Her voice was getting louder. “Besides, this maybe our last chance to join the Hunger Strike.”

“You really think so?” Yumei couldn’t believe her ears. She would never imagine Baiyun would go this far. It was such a big change for Baiyun from a bookish and selfish intellectual to a committed activist and hunger striker. But who could understand any of the events that happened recently? Disaster or danger could often bring the best out of people. Maybe this side of Baiyun just had been hidden until the opportunity came recently.

“I don’t really know. I tried not to think about it too much. Sometimes I wish this movement would go on forever. It is very hard for me to imagine going back to school and sitting in the library all day long or going back to my strange family. Now even Dagong has gone back to his wife. What do I have left?”

Baiyun’s confession had surprised Yumei because she had never talked so much about herself to others.”

“Dagong will come back to you,” Yumei tried to comfort Baiyun.

“I’m so happy that you are my friend,” said Baiyun and gave Yumei a hug.

“Hi, girls. What are you doing here?” A well-dressed man walked toward them with his hand touching the white cloth on the pine shrubs. “Which school are you from?” He continued.

“Beida.” Yumei found him strange.

“Oh, great. You are local. I’m from Shanghai.” He attempted to shake hands with Hongmai. Yumei refused.

“You don’t sound like Shanghainese,” said Baiyun whose mother was from Shanghai.

“I grew up in Shan Dong province,” said he leisurely. He looked as though he had the whole day to chat.

“Do you enjoy staying in Beijing?” Yumei asked but her eyes were looking elsewhere.

“Yes. I wish that I could spend the summer here. The summer in Shanghai is like hell.” He said as though he was living in a hotel in Beijing with air conditioning twenty four hours a day. “Do you know who I really am?” His eyes formed a thin line. He moved closer toward Yumei. His head with crew cut hair glimmered under the streetlight.

“No.” Backed a few steps, Yumei and Baiyun were waiting for him to say that he was the Devil from Hell.

“Ha, ha. I know you can’t figure me out. Let me tell you. I’m a plainclothes police officer. There are a lot of us around here. You’d better get out of here as soon as possible. Otherwise it will be too late. I know exactly what is going to happen tonight. You can’t even imagine how fast the troops are moving in.” Approaching the girls even closer, he boasted out the secret, “You’d better run if you could!” He waved as though trying to chase the chickens away.

Yumei and Baiyun turned around and ran away as fast as they could. It was not that they were afraid of the policeman. It was because they felt the information was urgent and they wanted to find someone in charge. They wanted to go back to the headquarters to find Longfe and Xia Nan.

Xia Nan, the head of the student organization in the economic department, had switched from an anti-movement advocate to one of the Beijing Student Hunger Strike leaders. Especially now when the hunger strikers took control of the Tiananmen Square, he became even more powerful. He was in many news conferences with the foreign press, and formed new alliances with some most powerful student leaders around. He seemed always to be able at the right place at the right time. Yumei and Baiyun hoped to find him in the new Hunger Strike Headquarters in one of the buses around the monument.

People still enjoyed the frenzy of destroying the buses. Now they were jabbing holes on the already flattened tires. Their actions made sense since the tires had been destroyed to such a degree that they were impossible to repair. The Rock & Roll concert still went on and the cheering was louder than ever.

As they checked from bus to bus for Longfe and Xia Nan, suddenly Baiyun noticed two familiar people standing next to a motorcycle under a streetlight. It was her mother Meiling and boyfriend Lao Zheng in an intimate position. Too embarrassed to tell Yumei, she had kept quiet. Actually she wished that she could dig a hole that was deep enough to hide in. This was not the first time when she was so embarrassed by her parents that she pretended that she didn’t see them.

In 1975, in the midst of the Cultural Revolution, she was 9 years old. One day when she was playing jump rope with her friends outside of their apartment, one of her friends pointed to an old man walking toward the apartment.

“Look, who is that?” said her friend.

He wore old faded pants and wrinkled shirt. His hair and stubby beard were gray. There was a rolled-up quilted blanket hanging on his back weighing him down yet his head was only slightly bent down. In his hand there was a beaten up duffle bag. It took a moment before Baiyun realized that it was her father, Professor Yang. But how could she admit that was her father? He just came back from the labor camp and he still looked like a prisoner. He had caused her enough trouble already at school. Because of his political problems, she didn’t have any friends at school for a long time. She was not allowed to perform in any plays or musicals because of him. Kids chased her and threw stones at her because of him. Now finally she had a couple of neighbor girls to play with. He was here again to ruin it. She was determined not to admit that he was his dad.

“I don’t know him.” Baiyun kept playing.

Fortunately Professor Yang didn’t notice her either when he walked by them. Since he was busy looking down, he seemed not to notice anyone or he, too, was too embarrassed to say hello. When he finally went inside of the apartment, Baiyun was so relieved that she almost fell.

So Baiyun could do it again. As they were walking forward, it was obvious that Yumei and she would encounter Meiling and Lao Zheng because they were actually talking to Xia Nan.

Baiyun saw Xia Nan nodding his big head with shoulder length hair and shaking hands with Meiling. Lao Zheng, who now had grown a mustache, was standing next to his shiny new motorcycle under the streetlight next to a red bus.

“That’s Xia Nan! That’s Xia Nan!” Yumei exclaimed. Of course, Baiyun didn’t remind her that her mother Meiling and her new boyfriend were standing next to Xia Nan.

“Let’s go, Baiyun,” commanded Yumei as bossy as ever.

Baiyun couldn’t understand why Yumei got so excited to see Xia Nan. Baiyun obediently followed Yumei like a dog following her master.

“Ok, I will tell headquarters about your information. Don’t worry. We will find the way to deal with it,” Xia Nan was still nodding.

“Hey, Baiyun. Do you know who Xia Nan is talking to?” Yumei turned around, pulling Baiyun’s sleeves. “That old lady and the young man look like people who belong to the ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’, some of whom were just common workers. I could not imagine our comrade Xia Nan could deal with people like that.”

“I don’t know.” Baiyun cast her eyes down and kept walking forward. She wished to disappear.

“Hi, Baiyun!” Through her tinted glasses, Meiling was the first one to notice her.

“Mother. It is nice to see you,” said Baiyun quietly, her fingers crossing and her face burning. She didn’t want to admit that she was proud to see her mother here.

“Hi,” she also nodded to Lao Zheng, who smiled at her. Leaning against the motorcycle, dressed in leather jacket and gloves, Lao Zheng looked quite handsome. With a white headband on his slightly baldhead, he looked like a perfect member of the “Flying Tiger Brigade”.

Yumei, of course, was stunned to see this. Having heard a lot about Baiyun’s mother, this was actually the first time she had ever met her. Staring at them, she didn’t even notice Xia Nan’s stretching out hand.

“Hi, you crazy girls, still here?” Xia Nan sounded like an old man.

Stamping her foot and tilting her head toward one side, “So what?” said Yumei firmly.

“Longfe has been looking for you.” Behind his big thick glasses sitting on top of his hollow cheeks, Xia Nan looked sympathetic.

“Tell him that I can take care of myself,” said Yumei. She was determined to sound tough.

“Ok, I don’t care what is going on between you two? But do you know how serious the situation is?” Xia Nan moved closer to Yumei, mouth wide open.

“Who says that we don’t know?” murmured Baiyun.

“Do you think you girls can be running around like this forever?” Xia Nan continued.

“We are not just running around. We are working!” Yumei’s voice was still firm. Yet the sense of doubt started showing on her faced. She looked concerned.

“Okay, Okay, Okay. You girls are iron women. No missiles or tanks can stop you. But at some point, I have to give the order for everyone to leave. The situation is just getting too dangerous.”

“Yes. It’s very dangerous. Why don’t you order everyone else to leave?” Yumei yelled. Her face was red and eyes moist. “Do you know that soldiers are coming tonight to the square through the subway? I just heard that from a plainclothes policeman.”

“Really, an honest soldier. I’m surprised. But don’t worry. Baiyun’s mother Meiling just told us that our Beijing citizens have already disconnected the electricity in the subway so the soldiers are stuck there now. But the situation is getting tense. The government will figure a way to send the troops over. You really should seriously consider leaving here soon.”

“No, as long as we are here, the victory will be ours.” Yumei said firmly.

“Hi, Yumei. I have been looking for you.” Longfe rushed over and quickly nodded to everyone.

“Longfe!” Yumei ran toward him and held his tall frame. His hair had grown longer than last time she saw him. In the front, the hair covered his eyebrows and ears while in the back it covered his neck, which made his small face even smaller. Like many people on the square, he wore a white headband

“Ok, I will let you to take care of these ladies.” Xia Nan seized an opportunity to get out of this torment.

“Mother, aren’t you afraid?” said Baiyun. She was still in Meiling’s embrace. She felt very close to Meiling.

“No. This is exciting. I have never had so much fun in my life. I feel young! I feel proud!” Meiling’s face was radiant. She did look young for her age.

“How about death?” asked Baiyun. Then she regretted. She was afraid that talking about it might be a bad omen.

Under the light, Lao Zheng, tall with his newly oiled leather jacket and gloves, even looked heroic.

“Baiyun, your mother is not afraid of death.” Patting Baiyun’s shoulder, Meiling made death sound like a trip to Shanghai.

Sure, Baiyun remembered the countless times Meiling talked about death so frankly. That was during the 1984 earthquake when Meiling chose to stay inside of their fragile home instead of following the orders to move out. That was when her father raised the cleaver and threatened to kill Meiling during one of her parents’ many fights. Meiling faced the cleaver and her eyes didn’t even flinch. Baiyun knew her mother and she knew her well. But the situation was different back then. Meiling acted out of desperation. Now Meiling finally found her role in society and found her way to make a contribution to her country. Why would she want to die, of course, if the death itself was a contribution to society?

“Longfe, let’s forget about your mother’s offer for us to hide in your home,” Looking at Longfe’s pale face and fragile body, Yumei regretted telling him that. But under such an urgent moment, who could care more?

Longfe nodded and didn’t say a word.

“How about join the hunger strikers? Maybe this is our last chance,” asked Yumei. She buried her head in Longfe’s chest and let herself shed a few tears. Then she turned to Baiyun, “Baiyun, does it sound like a good idea to join the final hunger strike?”

“Yes.” Without hesitation, Baiyun agreed. “I’ll join you.” Then she ran toward Meiling and gave her another hug. She could see tears prickling around Meiling’s eyes.

“Take care!”

“Take care!”

Baiyun joined Longfe and Yumei and departed. The idea of losing her mother after this brief reconciliation reunion bothered Baiyun for a while. She wished that she had got on Lao Zheng’s motorcycle and joined them.

“The Goddess of Democracy and Freedom has arrived!” Someone yelled in the crowd.

“The Goddess of Democracy and Freedom? Where?” someone in the crowd questioned.

The square was stirred up by the new excitement. People formed groups and started flowing toward that direction.

The square was completely lit up. The Goddess, 33 feet high white statue, made of foam and papier-mâché was been taken by the students passing the monument toward the direction of the Forbidden City. It stopped in front of the hunger striker’s buses. Students from the Central Academy of Fine Arts were still putting on the last bit of touch-up to it.

“Long Live Democracy!”

“Long Live the Chinese People!”

“Premier Li Peng, step down!”

The slogans were deafening, especially when everyone on the square was shouting at once. Then someone started ‘The Internationale’.

“Arise, the damned of the earth,

Arise, prisoners of hunger,

Reason thunders in its crater,

It is the eruption of the end!

Let's make a blank slate of the past,

Crowds, slaves, arise, arise!

The world is going to change from its base,

We are nothing, let's be everything!

This is the final struggle

Let us gather, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be mankind!”

Baiyun stood on her tiptoes and could only see the top section of the Goddess through the space between people’s heads. The Goddess had a Chinese woman’s figure with straight hair blown toward one side by the wind. She had broad shoulders and strong almost male like body. She was holding the torch with both of her arms. Pointing the torch toward the sky, she was facing the Forbidden City and staring at the Chinese people’s formal God, the portrait of Chairman Mao.

The slogan shouting came in waves and rhythms like those you could only hear in sports events or during the Cultural Revolution rallies. Along with the rhythm, Baiyun held Yumei’s shoulders and jumped up and down so she could see what was going on. Suddenly someone held her waist behind and lifted her up. She became a head taller than everyone else around her. She turned around and shouted, “Dagong, you rascal!” They hugged for a long time and Baiyun’s face was full of tears.

“How about sitting on my shoulders?” asked Dagong.

“Is that alright?” She looked at Dagong’s newly shaved face and was still trying to get used to this new look.

“Of course. Don’t you want to be a Goddess for a change?” Dagong teased her.

“Can I?”

“Sure, I know you would like it.”

Dagong squatted and Baiyun climbed onto his shoulders. Dagong stood up slowly so Baiyun wouldn’t fall.

“You are my Goddess! You are my Goddess!” The voice was resonating in her head but she couldn’t figure out what song it was and where she had heard before. Then she remembered it was a modified version of an old folk song called “You are My Sunshine”.

Chapter 19

On Saturday nearing noon, Pumpkin got up and found her husband was not next to her, snoring as usual. It struck her as a bad omen. Something must have happened, she thought. She looked around the room. Little Pea and her boyfriend Yu Gang and Potatofeet were still in bed, sleeping. Broomstick, of course, was not there. He had not come back since he joined the “Flying Tiger Brigade”, riding motorcycles around the city. So she stepped outside. Besides the noise coming from Square, the yard was peaceful. But it looked a bit unusual. Mrs. Wang replaced her husband Mr. Wang sitting in front of their apartment, knitting. Lao Liu’s wife Wu Zheng was watering the plants instead of Lao Liu.

“Where are the men?” Pumpkin shouted.

“They went out to see the city,” said Mrs. Wang carelessly.

“They are tired of being inside.” Wu Zheng added.

“They must be insane,” said Pumpkin.

“Yes. But Lao Liu has not been outside of the yard for a week. He would like to see what is going on. They sneaked out early. I didn’t even notice. Besides who could stop them?” said Wu Zheng.

“I would,” said Pumpkin. She looked into the sky. The sky was gray and was like a concrete doom where no sunlight could penetrate. The air was hot and moist like in a shower. She felt suffocated and sick. She had never felt so worried before. She heard the warning about the troops moving into Tiananmen Square on the radio yesterday. She had a feeling that the government was serious this time. Gee, how could these men be so irresponsible? Her heart, like a tangled web was messy and confused. Without her husband around, it was like she had lost her backbone. At this moment, she heard Wu Zheng talking to her daughter Lili.

“Lili, where are you going?”

“I’m going to see Xiao Liu. He just got out of the hospital and joined the hunger strike right away. I‘m worried about him. I’ll try to find him and be his moral support,” murmured Lili. She knew her mom would stop her from going out. She lowered her head and started crying. She was in love with Xiao Liu. How could her Mom be so cruel?

“Lili, it is not me who wants to stop your enthusiasm. It’s just too dangerous outside. I heard from the grapevine at work that Chairman of the Central Military Commission Dong Xiaoping is ready to see some blood this time. You are my only daughter. I don’t want to lose you.” She started pulling Lili back.

“Dad is out there, Dad is out there!” Lili shouted and tried to get out of her Mom’s grip.

“Nonsense! Your father is a policeman. He knows how to protect himself,” said Wu Zheng in such an authority that Lili knew that she would be foolish not to listen to her. Lili unwillingly followed her mother into their apartment, sobbing uncontrollably.

Pumpkin listened to this exchange and imagined the overweight Marshmallow falling behind during the escape from tanks. She saw tanks getting closer and closer to him. She began walking out.

“Mom, where are you going?” asked Little Pea, who just got up and was washing her face with the cold water in the wash basin.

“I’m going to find your father and your brother. Make sure to keep Potatofeet at home.”

“Be careful, Mom. Yu Gang and I may go out later to see whether we could help with anything,” said Little Pea.

A loud explosion in the distance could be heard in the yard.

“It doesn’t sound very safe outside. You’d better stay at home. It’s totally out of control there,” said Pumpkin worriedly.

When Pumpkin just stepped out of the door, she saw three motorcycles just arriving at alley. She saw her son Broomstick riding on the first motorcycle. Then she spotted Marshmallow sitting on the back seat and moaning, with his handkerchief covering his eyes. Lao Liu and Mr. Wang were sitting on the other two motorcycles with bandages on their heads.

“Dad was hit by a tear-gas canister,” said Broomstick.

“Oh, my old man. That’s your self-imposed suffering. Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” said Pumpkin while helping Marshmallow get off the motorcycle.

“The road is blocked. It would take much longer to get to the hospital. We just have to wash his eyes very quickly,” said Broomstick.

Pumpkin helped Marshmallow to the sink in the yard and began splashing water into his eyes. His moaning turned into yelling. But soon he lost his strength. Lili’s mother brought her medicine box.

“I would never have predicted that my nursing training would become useful again,” said Wu Zheng. She squeezed some eye drops into his eyes and wrapped a bandage around them. “He will feel better soon.” She said to Pumpkin, and then they both helped Marshmallow walk back to his apartment.

After they returned, Broomstick introduced the other motorcyclists.

“This is Meiling. She is our group mother and moral support.”

Meiling took off her helmet, opened her leather jacket and said, “This is an interesting experience for me and made me feel twenty years younger. See, I’m just a shameless old lady.” She laughed loudly.

Then everyone’s attention shifted toward a young man who just entered the yard. He was a tall young man wearing a black mask over his face, which only showed his small eyes. He wore a black cape and two small ears stuck out from his tight black hat.

“Batman!” Broomstick advanced a fencing step toward him and lunged at him with a stick. “Batman” swiftly avoided the stick.

“Ba…tman! You…you’re my…my favorite ……superhero!” Potatofeet bounced toward the young man. Just before he could reach him, his legs suddenly lost their strength, and he fell on his knees in front of the young man as though he was worshipping him.

“Zhuzhu is our ‘Batman’, our ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’s captain and our warrior!” Broomstick continued his introduction.

“Oh, my God, it’s Batman!” Pumpkin came over and touched Zhuzhu’s body. “Are you real? Are you really that magical?” Her big round eyes were widely open. Her fat double chinned jaw dropped a little.

“No. I just like to dress up like one,” said the Zhuzhu.

“He can leap over tall walls,” said Meiling. She was standing next to Zhuzhu and looking very proud.

“Ya, a five-meter high wall,” said Zhuzhu.

“Yes, you sound human to me. Do you drink tea? I can make some for you,” asked Pumpkin.

“No. Thank you. We have to leave now. We have to pass the news to the students as soon as possible. The soldiers have already started firing at the protesters over at Muxiudi, right Meiling?” Zhuzhu asked.

The crowd in the yard suddenly turned quiet. Everyone’s face turned solemn. It was so quiet that the water dripping from the leaking tap became loud and annoying. Pumpkin was staring at everyone while tears rolling down on her face that she didn’t even bother to wipe.

“Let’s go, comrades! Let’s kick their ass.” Zhang Ping suddenly appeared in the middle of the courtyard. She wore faded green uniform with a red armband on her right arm and a green hat atop her disheveled hair. Her face was red and swollen and full of scratch marks.

“Stop her!” said Pumpkin. Lao Liu and Mr. Wang went forward, trying to pull her toward her apartment.

Zhang Ping fought back by kicking. “Don’t stop me! You are against the revolution. You are proletarian’s enemy!” Pumpkin joined the effort by lifting her legs. They carried her back to her apartment, still kicking and screaming.

“How did she get out?” asked Lili’s mother.

“Dagong locked her in her room before he left yesterday,” said Little Pea, “she probably got out from the window.”

After locking up Zhang Ping back in her apartment, Pumpkin, Lao Liu and Mr. Wang came back to the yard. Mr. Wang sat in front of their door and took out the pipe from his pocket while his wife went to prepare dinner. Lao Liu sat down on the step, looking at his garden.

Pumpkin walked to the center of the yard and crossed her arms on the top of her fat belly. She was giving a speech to Marshmallow and others.

“So what happened this morning?” asked Pumpkin.

“I heard troops had driven into the downtown area last night and had left five trucks of weapons on Changan Avenue, just outside of Tiananmen Square. We decided to go and take a look. I hadn’t been out for weeks.” Lao Liu turned around and said. Even though he had a bandage on his head, he did not look particularly injured. “When we first got there this morning, it was quite nice. There was an early summer breeze in the air. The few people on the street looked happy and relaxed or maybe they were just simply fearless.

“No. It was gloomy. I could sense it.” Mr. Wang cut in.

“Yes. You probably know more than we do. Have you been working for the government, Mr. Wang?” Lao Liu stepped over and confronted him.

“I guess you know everything. I can’t lie to you. Yes. I was. I figured it was a chance for me to get ahead.” Mr. Wang found a chair and sat down. “Then I realized not a single person was willing to help the government in the pro-democracy movement. I felt isolated and simply was tired of lying. It looked like the people might win. I wanted to be on the winning side. So I told them I quit. They told me that I couldn’t. I just ran away. It has been so chaotic and nobody knows who was in charge. So I’m Scott Free.”

“Good. Comrade. Welcome back.” Lao Liu shook hand with Mr. Wang, and then he continued, “As we approached the square, I could see more people around us. They either wore armbands or headbands, which were made of white cloth and made them look like Japanese warriors. Then a truck full of demonstrators pulled up. I asked them why they didn’t go and pick the weapons in the abandoned trucks. They said that they didn’t want to play into the officials’ tricks. They want to be peaceful demonstrators. As we went further into the square, it became more crowded. When we were just about to arrive at the LiuBuKou (Six-steps entrance), we suddenly saw flames rising in front of us, then a loud explosion. We were so curious that we just kept walking. Actually as a policeman I was trained not to be afraid of this kind of violence. I pushed forward but it was impossible. There were people all around us. Then Mr. Wang suggested that we should go home before it was too late. Marshmallow agreed. But it WAS too late. Police cars zoomed around the crowd, throwing tear gas canisters at us. Marshmallow’s eyes were scorched. Mr. Wang and I were standing a little further back so we didn’t get hurt. Then Broomstick and the ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’ came along and took us home on their motorcycles. What a stupid adventure!” Lao Liu sighed and started smoking a cigarette. He also helped Mr. Wang to light his pipe.

“I saw a tear gas bomb burn a small boy’s leg with my own eyes,” added Mr. Wang.

“Let me tell you. This is just a warning. Something much worse is going to happen soon,” said Lao Liu, eyelids widening.

Little Pea leaned against Yu Gang’s shoulder and covered her mouth with one of her hands. Pumpkin’s face was purple red. Her eyes were showing anger.

“Those bastards!” Pumpkin stumped the ground.

“Mo……Mother, could I ……go and sell some…..some tea?” Potatofeet sauntered over with a teapot in one hand and a couple of teacups in the other.

“Just in the alley, OK?” said Pumpkin.

Potatofeet swerved toward the door.

“You’d better come back in an hour and have some dinner,” said Pumpkin.

“Su…re!”

Silence. The yard went into a temporary brooding mood again. Someone turned on the radio. All of the stations had the same program. The message chilled everyone down to his bones. A cold female voice said,

“The situation is getting becoming grave. A small number of thugs have spread rumors and incited the people to insult, beat and kidnap some of the soldiers. They also have seized weapons. For these reasons, all the civilians should heighten their vigilance. From now on, please do not go out onto the streets and don’t go to Tiananmen Square. All workers and staff numbers should stay at their places of work and all residents should remain at their homes to ensure their safety and avoid unnecessary losses.”

Marshmallow came out with a bandage on his left eye. “What did they say on the radio?”

Pumpkin ran out of the kitchen and tried to push him back. Little Pea went over to help.

“This government has really disappointed everyone. Let’s go and fight. If everyone fights, we can win!” said Marshmallow while waving his fist in the air.

“Fight? You almost lost an eye and next time you will lose your head,” said Pumpkin. She was surprised that these kinds of cowardly words could come out of her mouth. She had not been feeling good lately since she saw Zhang Ping had gone crazy; Dagong disappeared for a few days and her husband Marshmallow was wounded by a teargas canister. Maybe she just simply got tired. She felt like she was facing a huge mountain in front of her. In the last few weeks, the students and Beijing citizens had shaken the mountain and caused a few stones to come crumbling down, some of which had wounded some people. Gestures were not enough to get rid of the mountain. They had to start digging from the bottom.

In order to calm her husband down, she compromised. “Ok, let’s have dinner first and then I will go over there with you.”

“God dammit, I couldn’t take this anymore! This government is lying. I saw it with my own eyes. These students didn’t start the fight. It was the police who fought first.” Mr. Wang threw his pipe into Lao Liu’s garden and walked toward the gate. Everyone was stunned to see him behave this way but no one tried to stop him. Even Lao Liu didn’t worry about the Mr. Wang’s pipe hurting his roses. He stared at the back of Mr. Wang with his mouth wide open. Mrs. Wang came out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of porridge. She sat on the same chair Mr. Wang was sitting before he left, eating silently. They all knew Mr. Wang was a stubborn man.

“Where is Yu Gang?” Pumpkin asked when Little Pea, Marshmallow and Pumpkin sat around a little table in the yard eating steamed bread and porridge.

“He is with Broomstick’s ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’,” said Little Pea. “He didn’t want me to go with him because he thought it was too dangerous.”

“Could you hear gun shots outside?” Marshmallow suddenly put down the chopsticks and stood up.

“Yes. It sounds like fireworks!” said Pumpkin.

“I’m sure that it’s not fireworks out there,” said Marshmallow.

“Oh, God. Potatofeet and Yu Gang are still there.” Throwing the chopsticks on the table, Pumpkin ran toward the alley. “Little Pea, watch your father. Don’t let him go outside again,” she added.

The alley was full of people rushing back and forth. Wounded were carried in and more people ran out of the alley. She could see the sky was lit up and rounds of gunshots deafened her ears. It was real and they were real bullets, she kept telling herself. But she was so dumbfounded that she could not even comprehend what she was saying. Then she saw Potatofeet’s smashed tea stand and there was no sight of Potatofeet. She started running and yelling, “Potatofeet, Potatofeet!”

“They started shooting. They are real bullets.”

“Those bastards! Let’s go and fight.”

“Don’t you care about your life? They are real bullets!”

Pumpkin could hear these voices. She understood what they were talking about. But she just kept walking. She saw tanks everywhere. No wonder it felt like an earthquake, she told herself.

Suddenly she felt someone nudging her on the back. She turned around and found Yu Gang behind her. His eyes were red and swollen and his clothes were stained with blood.

“Auntie, please come with me now. Potatofeet got shot in the leg.”

“What!” Her reaction was slow. It took a few seconds for her to comprehend what he meant. It was like she was caught in a tornado. She was thrown into the air and traveling with the vortex. Then she was suddenly dropped back onto her feet. The world started spinning in front of her. Her sense of reality had been distorted.

It took pumpkin and Yu Gang a while to get Potatofeet home. The alley was full of wounded people. As soon as they entered the door, the desperate moaning made by Potatofeet could be heard.

He lay on his father’s chest and his round face was full of tears. Under the dim light, his leg was covered with bandages, which were soaked with blood. Wu Zheng kept applying new bandages around his thin leg. Pumpkin rushed toward them and knelt down.

“He got shot in an artery on the leg,” said Wu Zheng, “I tried to call an ambulance but all the roads are blocked by barricades and tanks. There is no way they can get here. I asked Lao Liu to try to get Broomstick and his motorcycle back.”

Pumpkin pressed Potatofeet to her chest.

“Mom!” He buried his face into her soft chest like a newborn.

Mrs. Wang bought out more used sheets for Pumpkin to use as bandages. She quickly slammed the door behind her before her four boys could get out.

“Stay inside! Don’t you see that it is dangerous here?” Then she went to the window where her boys were looking out and pounded on it with their fists.

At the same time, Zhang Ping’s shrieking voice and the noise she generated by shaking the door were muffled by the popcorn-like gunshots outside.

“What a crazy woman!” Mr. Wang said as he walked toward Potatofeet and the people around him.

Potatofeet had stopped moaning. The glow of life was fading from him. His head drooped down. His hand, which held his mother’s waist tightly earlier, now had loosened its grip, sliding down.

“Potatofeet!” Pumpkin cried. Wu Zheng stopped winding the white sheet around his leg that was just bought over by Mrs. Wang. Little Pea wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Marshmallow stood, grinding his teeth. His eyes were full of fire, enough to ignite the bandage around Potato Feet’s leg.

“I can’t take this anymore! Instead of dying of anger, I would rather die in a battle!” Lao Liu threw away the cigarette butt in his hand, stood up and walked toward the door.

“Let’s go!” Pumpkin and Marshmallow followed him. Mr. Wang stood up, glanced at his wife and followed.

“Hay, forward, forward!” Reciting the communist slogan during the Cultural Revolution, Zhang Ping broke open the door and came out. She had covered her disheveled hair by a hat. She had put on a few dabs of make-up on her swollen face without the lipstick. She swept across the yard before everyone realized what had happened. She ran in front of four angry people, dancing and singing. She ran over toward the wounded people along the alley and gave them big hugs.

“Be tough, comrade! Don’t be moaning! Power comes from the barrels of guns!” Then she ran toward the end of the alley, shouting, “Chairman Mao said that ‘Power comes from the barrels of guns’. Let’s go and fight!”

She walked toward the crowd on the street, which was throwing stones and pebbles toward a slow moving tank. A soldier wearing a green uniform with a red star on his cap, looking dazed climbed down from the tank. But he quickly went back in the turret and shot from there and sprayed gunfire at people’s feet.

“Don’t beat up the soldiers, they are our friends!” A loud voice said in the crowd. “Our hero Lei Feng said that ‘Treat your friends like summer’s heat. Treat your enemies like winter’s cold!’”

A row of bodies fell in front of her after the gunfire.

She stared at the bloody bodies in front of her and gasped. Then she saw a flash of bright light ahead of the tanks. Two buses that were put up as barricade were just set on fire by people on the street. The beautiful orange light against the night sky suddenly excited her. She jumped, clapping her hands.

The tanks pushed away the wreckage, moving forward slowly one after another. Besides tanks, there were some military vehicles carrying loudspeakers. They were blaring slogans like “The people’s liberation army loves the capital!” “We love the people of Beijing. Soldiers and people are one!” These lies were emitted into the air over the bloody bodies on the street into the crowd. Angry citizens began throwing stones again toward the tanks.

Suddenly Zhang Ping remembered the bloody fight more than 20 years ago during the Cultural Revolution where she was protected by the gunfire, and followed her father stepping over bloody bodies and seizing an enemy vehicle on the street.

“Forward!” She ran toward the tank. She stepped on the dead bodies as though she didn’t see them and soon she fell under the gunfire. She had joined the rest of the bodies without knowing.

Lao Liu went over and pulled Zhang Ping’s body back to the alley. She was shot three times. Her blood spilled out like running water.

“Zhang Ping……” Pumpkin threw herself onto Zhang Ping’s body, crying. “Why did you have to die so soon? Why did you have to die so miserably? God, where is the justice?”

Lao Liu pushed Pumpkin away and carried Zhang Ping’s body on his shoulders. Blood dripped all over his body and face. He soon looked like a butcher, covered in blood. He squeezed his eyes hard and then tried to open them. With Zhang Ping’s weight on his shoulder, Lao Liu walked slowly toward the moving tanks. The dripping blood created a red trail behind him. Pumpkin and Marshmallow followed him as though Lao Liu had magic power. Gun shots could be heard nearby.

They marched toward the tanks fearlessly. As they nearly reached them, one of the military vehicles stopped. A baby-faced soldier about seventeen years old crawled out of the tank. His eyes were red and swollen like a mad animal.

“I just…just want to show this to you!” said Lao Liu. He tried to lift up Zhang Ping’s body to the soldier’s face.

Tears rolled down Lao Liu’s face, dripping down red like blood.

Silence.

“Do you know what you are doing?”

Silence.

“Do you know that you are in Beijing Tiananmen Square?”

The soldier shook his head.

“Do you know in 1949, when the people’s liberation army liberated the city from Guomingdang (Chinese Nationalist Party), no shots were fired on the Tiananmen Square?”

The soldier shook his head.

“Do you know you are shooting your own people?”

“Stop arguing with them!” Another voice in the tank said. Like a robot who reacted without emotion, the young soldier crawled back to the tank turret, started shooting his machine gun and blasted Lao Liu’s head off. His skull broke into pieces and flew high, one of which landed directly on the railing along the street.

As the frightened Pumpkin and Marshmallow tried to move away from Lao Liu’s body, they saw a middle-aged lady suddenly appear in front of the slow-moving tank. Her short hair was tangled and half-covered her face. She wore a white polyester shirt and brown pants. Her fragile body stood there firmly which showed her determination. While the tank gradually moved toward her, Pumpkin suddenly recognized that she was Lao Liu’s wife, Wu Zheng.

“What is she doing there? Let’s go and save her. Hey, Wu Zheng, don’t be dumb! Come back!” Pumpkin ran toward her, realizing that she might have seen what had happened to her husband.

The tank stopped for a moment, and fired a few shots over her head. She stood there as though she had taken root there. A soldier jumped off a truck next to the tank, carrying a pack of rope-like things. As a short stout man, he approached her slowly as though he was afraid of her. When he was two feet away from her, he released the black rope in his hands. It was a two meter long black leather whip. The whip was like a snake dancing in the air and hitting Wu Zheng’s body. She didn’t move and didn’t even look at her torturer. Instead she ran toward him.

“Give me back my husband!” She cried like a wild animal.

The whipping continued. Her white blouse was broken into shreds and was full of bloodstains. Then she caught the whip in her hand. She started pulling it. With God’s power in her hands, she got the whip away from the soldier and started whipping him.

While this was happening, Pumpkin struggled in her husband’s embrace.

“Let me go! Let me save her!”

“Are you crazy? You are going to be killed. I’m not going to let you go!” His face touched her face. Their tears mixed together. This was the most intimate act they had ever done.

Wu Zheng tightened the whip around the soldier’s neck and began strangling him. Cheers came from the crowd.

“Kill him! Kill the bastard!”

The tank started rolling and crushed both of them. The angry people moved over toward the tank. They threw the fire torches and gasoline onto the tank. The tank caught fire. It was blazing in the dark and moonless night. Everyone cheered like the ghosts in Dante’s inferno as the two tank drivers were forced out of the tank. They walked toward the angry people. As soon as they were away from the blazing tank, they were in the hands of angry people. They beat them with sticks, metal bars and spit on them.

“Shall we kill them?”

“Of course. Why do you speak for the enemy?”

“They are not our enemies. They don’t even know what they are doing.”

“What do you mean? They have already killed innocent people. They are criminals.” A middle-aged man went over, pulling at the collar of a student-looking young man as though he wanted to start a fight.

The two soldiers soon lost consciousness and their now lifeless bodies disintegrated in hundreds of angry hands. Red-eyed people threw parts of their bodies back at the burning tank. They held up their hands with a ‘V’ sign until a spray of bullets from another vehicle gunned down a few of the people.

Pressing his wife’s body against the ground with his body, Marshmallow protected Pumpkin from the momentary dense gunfire.

In a while, the tank stopped firing and ran over the wreckage of the burning barricades. They kept moving forward. Some angry people got up, throwing stones and pebbles at the tanks again, which were too insignificant to stop the tanks.

Pumpkin and Marshmallow got up slowly, once the tanks had passed.

“Let’s go home,” said Marshmallow.

Pumpkin stared at him as though she didn’t understand. Her round face was covered with blood and her eyes were bulging out. Under different circumstances, she might be mistaken for a cannibal.

“It’s dangerous here. Don’t you understand?” Marshmallow pulled her at the chest, shaking.

She bent down and held onto a dead girl’s body, trying to pick it up.

“What do you want to do? She is dead!” Marshmallow stood there and found Pumpkin was totally unreasonable. “OK, I’ll help!” He helped to lift the body onto his wife’s back.

Pumpkin, carrying the body, walked toward the crowd near them.

“Hey, this way,” yelled Marshmallow, “That’s the wrong way.”

She didn’t respond. She passed through the bystanders along the street and walked directly toward the moving tank.

“Hey, please stop her!” Marshmallow ran toward her and grabbed her blouse from behind. But Pumpkin’s will was so strong that she started pulling him forward. Several people came over and stopped them.

She threw the girl’s body onto the ground, turned toward her husband; falling onto him, crying and vomiting.

“Let’s go!” He caught her hand and ran toward the alley.

It was like a death alley. Most of the people there were either dead or wounded. Occasionally one could hear the yelling and moaning of their friends or relatives nearby.

When Pumpkin and Marshmallow walked into the yard, everyone was busy tending the wounded.

The yard had temporarily been turned into a hospital. Actually the moaning from people who had been treated without any anesthetic, made the place seem more like a torture g chamber than a hospital. But the makeshift clinic seemed to be working efficiently. A dozen wounded protesters were lying on the concrete floor under blood soaked blankets. A doctor and a nurse, wearing white coats and hats, walked bristly from one patient to another.

Chapter 20

Baiyun and Dagong were surprised to find Yumei sitting alone in one of the tents by the monument, singing along with guitar music from a nearby tent. She wore a red sweater, black rayon skirt and red-lip stick. She looked beautiful and clean today except for the dirty athletic shoes on her bare feet.

She was lying on the pile of blankets like a sleeping beauty.

“Hey, Yumei. Why are you alone? Where is Longfe?”

“He went home. He promised his family,” said Yumei, still lying there. Then she rubbed her eyes and sat up. “I’m waiting here to die!” The she pointed at her skirt and said, “See, I have already chosen my death clothes.”

“Come one. You look like you are trying to get a new boyfriend,” said Baiyun.

Yumei jumped up and squeezed Baiyun’s neck. “Baiyun, what happened to you? You have really become a mean girl!” Then she looked at Dagong and said, “You must be teaching her.”

“Me? Don’t you know that I’m a nice man?” said Dagong. Then he suddenly jumped to the back of Yumei and got her arms off Baiyun’s neck. He started twisting Yumei’s arms behind her back.

Baiyun was stunned to see Dagong and Yumei fighting each other.

“Comrades, anyone who wants to stay until the last moment can come and pledge with us at the monument.” Longfe said, coming over to gather people.

“Longfe, why are you here?” Yumei was surprised to see Longfe. “I thought that you were at home with your parents.”

“I escaped. I couldn’t just let you stay here and hold on to the fort.” Looking at Yumei’s fragile frame, Longfe couldn’t help hugging her.

“Let’s go!” Longfe waved at Baiyun and Dagong.

Thousands of students were gathered in front of the monument and had pledged to die for the cause of greater freedom and democracy. They stood by the makeshift tents and raised their right hands.

“I swear, for the democratic movement and the prosperity of the country, for our motherland not to be overturned by a few conspirators, for our one billion people not to be killed in the white terror, that I am willing to defend Tiananmen, and defend the republic with my young life. Our hands can be broken, our blood can be shed, but we will not lose the People’s Square. We will fight to the end with the last person,” said Longfe. During the movement, he had become a confident leader.

Baiyun’s eyes were wet. She turned her head toward Dagong. His face was somber but peaceful. Baiyun couldn’t understand that even during such a crucial moment, Dagong could not even show any emotion. He either didn’t care or he was incapable of showing it.

“Hey, it’s your last chance to have your picture taken.” Li Yan came over with a camera in her hands. She seemed to never run out of energy.

“I’m here.” Yumei stood next to Baiyun and crossed her arms in front of her chest as though she was a warrior. Baiyun tried her best to follow her.

“Hey, you guys have to pay beforehand,” said Li Yan like a businesswoman.

“What? I can’t believe you! Is money more important than your life?” argued Yumei.

“Well, not necessarily. But if I survive this week, maybe I will become a famous photographer by selling all the valuable photos I took here.” Li Yan shook her big head and smiled.

“There is still one optimist here,” said Dagong, “why not?” He gave her a 5-yen bill. Then he grabbed Yumei and Baiyun, one on each side of him. He wrapped his arms around the girls tightly with his head slightly tilted toward Baiyun.

“Ready and smile.” Li Yan raised the camera.

“Why do we have to smile today? Why do we have to pretend to smile?” said Yumei.

“Ok,” Li Yan gave in, “Do whatever you want. But you’d better think it over. These could be historical events. Think about the influence your pictures might have.”

“I’m happy. I will smile,” said Baiyun.

“I know you will. You have turned into a teenager since the movement started.” Yumei stared at Baiyun in disbelief. Then she turned to Dagong. “Dagong, how about you? I knew you would go home soon and chicken out. I know your generation, experienced but cowardly.”

“Hey, I’m a six-foot tall man. I can stay calm under any circumstances.”

As they were arguing, Li Yan clicked the camera.

“Do it again. I wasn’t ready yet,” shouted Yumei.

“I assure you that you will look good in my pictures. You are very photogenic,” said Li Yan.

“How about a photo of just Baiyun and me?” said Dagong. While he and Baiyun snuggled together, Li Yan clicked the shutter.

“How about a kissing one?” Li Yan asked. Dagong turn his head and first kissed Baiyun on her cheek and then on her lips.

“Wow. If you go any further, I will have to close my eyes. Stop it there.” The shutter clicked, and Li Yan took this intimate picture.

It even surprised Baiyun that she had gotten used to display intimacy in public. She thought that she would be more embarrassed but she wasn’t somehow. At this moment of life and death, she had bigger issues to worry about or she just simply didn’t care anymore.

Yumei fell back down onto the blankets on the ground, crawled over to turn on the tape player. Baiyun and Dagong sat next to her, started singing along to the tape.

There is a river in the Far East.

It is called the Yangtze River.

There is a river in the Far East.

It is called the yellow river.

Although I haven’t seen the beauty of Yangtze,

I often explore the river in my dreams.

Although I have not heard the roar of the Yellow River,

I hear it in my dreams.

“You guys are competing with Hou Degang!” Wenjing strolled over and she was limping. She hunched her shoulders over with her hands in her pockets, even in this warm weather. She still wore a pair of glasses. Her round face narrowed a little after several days of the hunger strike.

“Hey, professor, you are still here?” asked Yumei.

“I’m leaving. I’m not crazy like you guys, staying here forever,” said Wenjing.

“Yes. You should be at the American embassy now,” said Yumei, teasing her little, “you should go there and kiss their feet to let you out of country.”

“I’m not going to join the crowd now. I’m going in the next few days when it is not so crowded.”

“You go! You go! I’m ready to die.” Yumei rolled over and buried her face in the blanket, weeping. “I wish my mother knew I was here and died as a hero.”

“Yumei, think of it this way. You are a top student in a top university. If you survive, you would be able to contribute to your country more greatly than by being dead.”

“No. I feel I belong to here. I can’t leave because I have already planted my roots here in the last few weeks,” said Yumei and calmed down a little.

“I’m not sure I agree with Wenjing.” Dagong joined in and still was as calm as a stone. “I used to think that way. I used to value myself more than our country. But if everyone were like me, we wouldn’t have a movement like this. Now we are on the verge of victory, so why not stay until the end?”

“Victory? The government has weapons. They’re coming to wipe us out like ants. I don’t think it’s very wise to sacrifice so many brilliant students,” yelled Wenjing as though nobody would listen to her if she didn’t. Her usual pale face was as red as an apple.

“Really, they’re coming to kill us?” Baiyun finally said something. Her mind was in a state of confusion. On one hand, she wished this demonstration would go on forever so she did have to go back to school, back to studying, or to go back home and face Lao Zheng who seemed always desire her, or to see her father who was turning more into an animal each day. That world seemed so cold and far and far away. She had started to consider the vast Tiananmen Square as her home, the best home she ever had. On the other hand, if staying meant death, she thought she was ready. She wanted to be with her friends, especially Dagong, even though it meant getting run over by tanks.

“Don’t listen to me. I’m always the pessimist. Death has never frightened me. I’m always ready for it. But the issue is whether it is worthwhile to die,” said Wenjing seriously.

“I think there are two possibilities.” Another student joined in. “One is that the citizens will prevent the troops from coming in. And secondly, if troops do come into the Square, they would simply send us back to our schools. Maybe they will just push us and shoot us with some rubber bullets to scare us away.”

“What do you think, Dagong?” asked Yumei.

Dagong stared at the distance and did not answer. Baiyun nudged him. “What happened to you?” He buried his head between his knees, and still did not say anything. Then he raised his head and said, “I don’t know. Anything could happen.”

“Let’s not worry about it. It is useless to be worried now.” Everyone became silent. Then someone started humming the “International” along with the loud speaker in the distance. Others joined in. After so many days of malnutrition they lost some of their youthful enthusiasm and sense of invincibility; their voices sounded somber, almost suicidal, especially Yumei’s voice.

The square was very noisy. Besides the many student-controlled PA systems, which were broadcasting the “International” or Rock & Roll music constantly, there were government-controlled loudspeakers, which were repeatedly broadcasting the same warning message.

“Now the situation is getting fairly grave. A small number of thugs spread rumors…”

“The government is farting again,” said Yumei.

“I hope that it wouldn’t blow everything away with its smell.”

But something opposite had happened. The half emptied Changan Street was full of people again. Some people, mostly Beijing citizens, had left home and streamed into the street with bicycles to help protect the students.

“What do you want to do?” Dagong looked into Baiyun’s eyes.

“Stay here. Right, Yumei?” She pushed Yumei, who fell back under the blanket again.

“I don’t know.” Yumei murmured.

“Baiyun, your mother is here!” Li Yan came over, who was still very energetic and was followed to the tents by the loud sound of motorcycles.

“Baiyun.” Baiyun’s mother jumped off her motorcycle.

“Mom.” Baiyun ran toward her and held her pair of hands in leather gloves.

Now wearing a hat on her permed black hair, her mother seemed to have lost some weight. Her freckled face was thin; and her belly had disappeared. Although there were some wrinkles on her face, her trimmed body made her look younger.

“Hi, Baiyun, brave girl, still holding on to the square.” Lao Zheng came over and gave Baiyun a handshake that almost made Baiyun cry.

“Yes. It seemed safe. No one believes the Government’s warning. People are getting out again.” Baiyun said, looking straight at Lao Zheng whom she no longer felt shy in front of.

“That’s why we are here.” Lao Zheng said seriously. “Why don’t you tell her?” He nudged Meiling.

“The shooting has already started!”

Baiyun startled. She looked at Meiling first, and then turned to Dagong and Yumei, and back to Meiling again.

“You can tell the students later about this news,” said Meiling as though she had read her daughter’s mind.

Baiyun signaled Dagong to come over. “Mom, this is my….” She looked at Dagong who was approaching them, for an answer. But Dagong was silent while staring at Meiling as though to retrieve a memory from long ago. Meiling looked startled too.

After shaking hands, they suddenly backed away from each other.

“Meiling, you still look the same,” said Dagong.

“You, Dagong. Is that you?” Meiling edged toward him slowly. “Ha, ha. You rascal!” She jumped at him and gave him a hug.

“What? You know each other?” Baiyun’s eyelids were wide open.

“How have you been?” Without listening to her daughter, Meiling said to Dagong. “I hardly can tell it’s you. Maybe it’s just your beard.” She touched his brushy beard. “But it looks good on you. You used to have mustache, correct? But this looks better.”

“Oh, thank you. You know that I can’t go back to you after I have gotten out of the Zoo. So…”

“But at least you should write to me.”

“Then I got married and had a son. You know, it’s a long story.” He sighed.

“I see.” Then she looked at Baiyun, turned back to Dagong and gave him a questioning look.

“Don’t worry. I will take care of Baiyun.”

“Ok. I will have to go. Nice to see you all.” Then she turned to Baiyun, “Baiyun.”

“Mom.”

“I have to go to some other places to spread the news. You can decide whether to stay or go now. Just be careful.”

“How about you?” Baiyun looked at her mother, eyes full of tears.

“Aren’t you having fun yet? Let’s rock & roll!” Meiling waved her arms and went away on her loud thumping motorcycle.

Looking in the direction where Meiling had disappeared, Baiyun’s heart sunk. She felt like she had lost something. Dagong came over and put his hand on her shoulder. Baiyun gazed at him, and he in turn stared at her. There was suddenly a wall between them. But it seemed not a good time to talk about it.

“The shooting has started at Mushidi!” yelled Baiyun.

“Oh, really? God dammed. Those bastards.” Then he suddenly jumped up, “Ok, Baiyun. Tell me what do you want to do? If you want to stay here, let’s stay here and fight to the end!”

Baiyun smiled. She was happy to see Dagong had gone back to his old toughness. She liked it.

“Ok. Let’s stay,” said Baiyun firmly. As possible death approaching, she felt fearless. She was so startled to feel like this. It must be the camaraderie that made her tough-minded.

“Let’s go to the headquarters to see what is going on,” said Dagong.

As they passed by the tent, they saw Yumei was still lying there, looking depressed.

“Yumei, we are going to see what is going on at the headquarters. Do you want to come along?

“That’s fine. You two can go. I will just stay here and die alone. ”

“Come on. We are going to have some fun.” Baiyun couldn’t believe that she said that.

“Fun? You must be crazy like your mom,” then she sat up. “I’m waiting for Longfe. Where is he?” She opened her arms to the sky.

“I don’t know. Maybe he is busy organizing,” said Baiyun.

The headquarters near the monument was very noisy. The student broadcast was blaring, telling the story of brave Beijing citizens blocking the troops from coming to the square all over the city, building barricades, exhorting the troops, and some dying under the gun fire. People were jammed in a circle. Dagong went on to find out what was going on.

“Fighting has already started at Mushidi. They are going there to help,” said a middle-aged lady.

The crowd gradually opened a passageway. A row of hefty students, all wearing white headbands, marched out. They were armed with iron bars, wrenches and wooden clubs. Some of them carried sharpened wooden sticks. They were joined by hundreds of bicyclers, shouting “Down with Li Peng!” “Long Live the People!” An open truck, packed with young men and women, also wheeled past. “One, two, three, stop the army!” They chanted.

“It looks like everything is still alive,” said Dagong, sounding energetic and excited. He felt relieved that Baiyun finally knew about his association with Meiling.

Baiyun, on the other hand, felt uneasy. Knowing Dagong’s past relationship with Meiling had added an additional complication to their relationship. Dagong suddenly became much older in her eyes. And the feeling of possibly suddenly becoming her mother’s rival made her a little nervous.

“Let’s go. Let’s see what’s going on!”

Holding hands, they joined the crowd on Changan Avenue. Ten of thousands of bicyclers filled the six traffic lanes. Random shouts of “Down with Li Peng!” and “Long Live the people!” mingled with the continuing ringing of bicycle bells. The further they went, the more roadblocks they encountered. The barricades were heavy concrete bars, steel guardrails and garbage cans. Many bicyclers had to lift their bicycles up to pass the barricades. Hurdling over the barricades, Baiyun and Dagong looked at each other and smiled.

“Mother used to be a hurdler in college,” said Baiyun.

“Yes, she told me about it before. I guess you must be very good at it too.”

“Good at what?” Baiyun challenged.

“Good at everything.” Dagong surrendered.

“Do you mean better?” Baiyun marched further.

“Um…yes. Look,” Dagong held her shoulder, “what happened between your mother and me is over. It was a short relationship more than twenty years ago. That’s the past. Don’t burden yourself with it anymore.”

“Ok, what else should I worry about then?”

Dagong frowned. Obviously, Baiyun meant his wife Zhang Ping. “We can talk about it later. Let’s survive this first.”

“Let’s survive this first!” Baiyun reciprocated.

They ran ferociously pass the slow moving crowd. As they approached Xidan, people stood by the side of the road and stopped moving completely.

“Stop, Baiyun. Be careful!” Dagong pulled Baiyun to a side street where People pushed each other as though they tried to hide behind each other. Baiyun could feel a sense of panic floating in the air. It was getting dark and people were unusually quiet.

“Look, there are tanks.” The bright headlights of the army carriers were blinding. Tanks ran over or broke through the barricades and were approaching slowly. People began throwing stones, bricks and broken pieces of steel railing at the tanks. Obviously it didn’t stop the tanks. But people were not deterred. They threw more things at the tanks including burning torches that set some of the tanks on fire.

“Hooray!” Excited people cheered.

“What are they throwing at the tanks?” Baiyun was just as happy as everyone else but she was puzzled.

“Molotov cocktail.” A tall slender young man with long hair showed Baiyun a brown tall bottle. “We just fill these beer bottles with gasoline and kerosene, and light them. We made them in our factory.” He smiled proudly and leaped forward. “Get out, butcher.” He shouted toward a stopped blazing tank. The fire mixed with the smoke shoot toward the sky, which made the Square like a battleground or a New Year’s Eve party with too much firework. As soon as the driver got out of the tank, his clothes were immediately on fire. He jumped to the ground and rolled. People ran toward him and screamed as though they were going to eat him alive.

“He is dead. He is dead three times over,” said an old man next to Baiyun.

Then more people ran toward a tank that was trapped by a concrete barricade. The tank lurched back and forth, and stopped. The grounding of the tank’s treads against concrete generated a shower of sparks like welding. A young man in shorts and a tank top jumped onto the top of the tank, hammering the tank with a steel bar, and others followed. They first used the Molotov cocktail and set the tank on fire. The young man in shorts laid a blanket soaked with gasoline on top of the tank. The crowd was pounding the tank to force the driver to get out.

Looking at Baiyun’s radiant face near the blazing fire, Dagong asked, “Are you afraid?”

“No. It’s exciting!” Baiyun jumped against Dagong and hugged him.

“Let’s join them,” said Dagong. Just when they were about to dive into the crowd, beams of light leaped through the sky, followed by several whistling sounds.

“They’ve started shooting.” Dagong jumped on top of Baiyun and pushed her down.

“What….?” Baiyun was bending down and lying against the wall of a building along the street. She was shivering violently. It was the first time in her life she ever heard real bullets flying in the sky.

People swarmed back to the side streets. Their yelling and screaming mixed with the sound of bullets. Some struggled in the crowd to find their loved ones; some tried to get out and help save others.

“It’s real bullets. They were shooting people. I saw a boy shoot in the head and die,” said an old woman, tears smeared her face.

“Baiyun, are you Ok?” Dagong tried to get her up.

She buried her head into Dagong’s chest, crying. “It’s terrible. It’s terrible.”

“Ok, Ok. It looks like they haven’t shot people on the sidewalks yet.” Dagong patted Baiyun. “I think we should run back to the square to tell them what is going on. Are you ready? We have to run fast.”

Baiyun nodded. They began running hand in hand down the side streets.

It was a moonless night. The square was dark and frightening. Fire from the burning vehicles and buses flickered in the distance. The smoke in the sky had further decreased the visibility. Bullets whistled through the sky intermittently. Tanks stopped people. People ran back and forth around the center of the Tiananmen Square, shouting and cheering each time a tank caught fire.

Baiyun and Dagong ran along the trees on the sidewalk. Some trees were burning while the speculators occupied some others. Frightened people escaped from the streets, trying to find a hiding place. But most of the larger buildings along the streets were closed. They held onto each other tightly.

“Ah, my shoes, Dagong,” yelled Baiyun as her shoes were kicked away by the crowd and she was left with her bare feet.

“What has happened?” They stopped and soon were being pushed off of the sidewalk by the crowd. “Put on mine,” said Dagong.

“No, they are too big. Let’s just take a break.” They sat under a tree, watching people cheering, clanking metal pots and pans. Tanks barely could inch forward.

Baiyun was so tired that she instantly fell on Dagong’s lap. Dagong started kissing her hair, and then her ears. Baiyun turned her head around so his lips could reach hers. He unbuttoned her floral cotton shirt and touched her braless chest. Baiyun felt her body melting under Dagong’s embrace. She wished so much that this moment would last a little longer. But Dagong soon stopped.

“Maybe we should go and see whether we could help with something,” said Dagong.

“It seems that they are holding up the tanks.” Still breathing heavily with the excitement, Baiyun said.

“But the tanks are not backing off. I don’t know how long they can be held off. Let’s go. At least we should be with our fellow students and I would like to offer my apartment as a hiding place if we decide to withdraw.”

“Could I come to your apartment?” asked Baiyun uncertainly.

“Of course. Come on, we are almost there.”

When they were across the intersection to the square, the gunfire suddenly became more intense and continuous. Tanks seemed to be coming from all directions. People were running wild like animals being chased by hunters.

The square was half-empty. Besides some makeshift tents scattered around and garbage, very few people were left. Dagong ran into a tent and pushed the person inside who seemed to be sleeping.

“Where is everyone?” asked Dagong.

The student rubbed his eyes as though he was awakening from a dream. He pointed his finger to the monument, “They are over there.”

As they approached the monument, it was very quiet. Hundreds of people surrounded the monument, lowering their heads. They were mourning someone. They were so quiet that even the gradually approaching gunshots did not disturb them. Then Mozart’s ‘Requiem’ filled the air. The crowd started humming along.

“Who are you mourning?” asked Baiyun of a young man next to her.

“Oh, you don’t know them. They are ‘Flying-Tiger-Brigade’.” He stretched his arms and held his hands down with two fists. “They rode motorcycles. You know that woman who is fifty years old, although she looks like forty.”

“Oh, what happened to her?” Baiyun’s eyes widened.

“She got shot on her way here from Mushidi.” The student sighed.

“Mother!” Baiyun screamed and pushed people away violently.

“Baiyun, Baiyun.” Dagong followed. As shocked as she was, he did not know what to say.

They finally reached the front of the crowd. Meiling’s body lay on the top of the steps. Lao Zheng sat next to her, holding her head and crying. Still in her leather jacket that was now ragged and stained, Meiling looked peaceful. Her eyes were closed, her swarthy cheeks sunk down, her head-full of thick black hair still gleaming, even her thick energetic eyebrows curled down as though she was having a nice dream. Baiyun rushed over and threw herself onto Meiling’s body, wailing. She held Meiling’s neck, which was wrapped with bloody bandages, and said “Mother, why did you leave me so soon? I have a lot to tell you.”

The crowd was suddenly quiet again. A student leader came in front of the microphone.

“As we are mourning the dead, we should ask ourselves what we should do to continue the work she had not accomplished. Now I would like to share a story with everyone.”

“There are a group of ants, 1.1 billion of them. One day there was a huge fire at the foot of their anthill. The ants knew that their family could only be saved if they went down the hill, so they held on to each other and rolled down the hill together. Some of ants were killed but many more were saved. So the committee has decided that we all will walk out of here together. Soldiers may fire at us; tanks may roll over us. But as long as we are together, we are strong.”

The light suddenly went off and the students formed a line marching the square in the dark with their arms locked. They are singing the ‘International’. Lao Zheng carried Meiling’s body on his back, leading the march.

Dagong and Baiyun locked their arms marching along. Baiyun was no longer afraid because dying with so many students and friends would be heroic or even exciting.

The sky turned light as they walked toward the east, through the passageway the army had opened up for them. The east side of sky was red, not just around the edge; but the whole eastern sky was red. It was like the whole place was soaked in blood.

Epilogue

It is an unusually gloomy day in late June. Dagong and Baiyun strolled together in Tiananmen Square. They have left their bicycles in Xidan Market, about half a mile away. With her hands in the pockets of her red windbreaker, Baiyun walks one kilometer behind Dagong. Her long straight black hair gleams under the dim sunlight. Her face is solemn, yet her occasional sighs show she is holding back her emotions.

The Square is still heavily guarded, especially near the Forbidden City. Armed soldiers wearing green uniforms stand in front of the maroon walls of the Forbidden City as though they were rows of evergreen trees. Since tourists are few, the square is still scrubbed clean. Burned buses and shattered military vehicles were towed away soon after the Massacre. The flags along the reviewing balcony of the Forbidden City are flapping in the wind, generating hollow, alien sounds like hundreds of suffering souls murmuring in the distance.

Baiyun follows Dagong. She is not a traditional Chinese whose women walk several steps behind the men. It is Martial Law that prevents them from strolling shoulder to shoulder. Dagong complains for the third time:

“I have to turn my head around every five seconds, literally every five seconds to see if you are all right. Just in case you might be kidnapped or seduced by one of those good looking soldiers!” But soon he resumes his pace and does not stop, as that could be taken as evidence of assembly.

“Soldiers, air-headed scare-crows. Who needs them?” Baiyun snaps back. Then she looks toward the Forbidden City and the Golden Water Bridge in front of Chairman Mao’s portrait. Her steps are getting shorter. She stops and stares at the bridge. It is the first time she has returned to the square since the morning of June 4, 1989.

“Who knows? You always go for the handsome ones.” Expecting a playful blow to his back from Baiyun, Dagong walks faster. But he is wrong. Baiyun does not react at all.

She stares at the Forbidden City and the Golden Water Bridge and her mind is full of images. Oh, where was that head? During the night or the morning of the Massacre, she saw a smashed head on top of the middle pillar of the bridge’s right railing. Poor head, many bullets had pierced it. It sat on the top of the pillar as though it wanted to proclaim its dignity. There was nothing left in the skull; it was just a black hole. She imagines hundreds of skulls approaching from the far side of the arched bridge. They are crying. Tears pour out of their eye sockets. Blood sweeps them forward.

She squeezes her eyes shut and turns around, then stares back at the immense empty square. That was where her mother’s body lay fallen. The thought makes her recoil. During the night of the Massacre, with the square full of people, they all locked arms to form a human barricade. They thought they could deflect the bullets and stop the tanks. Then came the bullets and tanks and the blood and skulls. They had to retreat and narrowly escaped the final ‘Death Ring’ inside which hundreds even thousands people had lost their lives. As Baiyun ran away from Tiananmen Square, from the place she had made home in the last month, she felt a sense of loss. It was not just the loss of her mother, the failure of the movement. It was just a loss of focus, a loss of a sense of purpose in life. After this, where would her life begin?

After Meiling’s memorial service, Lao Zheng came to talk to Baiyun. “It’s so sad that your mother died. I’m very sorry, Baiyun.” Lao Zheng had said, wrapping his arm around Baiyun and squeezing her. “Since your mother has died, who else can take care of you?” Lao Zheng held Baiyun against him. She was too weak to resist, although his manner, his cigarette and the alcohol smell of his leather jacket annoyed her. “Are you going to marry me?” He asked and touched his lips to her forehead. “No, no!” Baiyun broke away. He grinned. “There’s no hurry. It just takes a little time.”

“Ohhh...” Baiyun screams. She covers her face with her hands and runs toward the Golden Water Bridge. She stretches her arms as though she wants to hug her mother and all of those who lost their lives during the Massacre.

“Hey, Baiyun, come here. What are you staring at? It’s not worth giving me up for a soldier or your mother’s formal boyfriend Lao Zheng.” Baiyun’s bizarre behavior puzzles Dagong. She is too far away before he realizes she is heading in a different direction.

He hurries toward Baiyun and sees her resting her head against the marble pillar of the bridge railing. “Baiyun, let’s go.” Then he catches a glimpse of a soldier striding toward them. “Hey, what’s going on? Are you really waiting for that soldier?” He says and becomes alert.

“Stay away from the bridge! It’s closed during Martial Law.” The soldier shouts. Dagong runs toward Baiyun and tries to pull her away.

“No assembly allowed! Martial law.” The soldier puts his hand on his rifle.

“Let’s go.” Dagong grabs Baiyun’s arm. “Come on. This has gone too far. For god’s sake, don’t you give a damn about your life?”

Baiyun locks her arms around the pillar. Looking down to the moat, she sees her face reflected in it, a blurred, distorted image in the rippling water. Her eyes are swollen, her hair tousled. She has not slept much lately and has not been successful in keeping Lao Zheng away from her. Something in him makes her like him. This frightens her. Then her mother’s face appears, excruciatingly twisted. “Baiyun, how can you do this to me? He’s mine! He’s mine!” She is struggling in boiling water and hot steam swallows her. Lao Zheng’s leering face emerges. He grins, winks and waves at her. Then there is the face of Dagong, his old pale frozen face, eyes emitting cold light. This was the face of Dagong when she first met him, the face which had been bitten, punched and had become hard as stone. Baiyun had melted his face with love. Now it is hardened again. The moat has been filled with blood. People fell into the moat during the Massacre. The officials fished the bodies out, but they cannot remove the blood from the water. The moat is the witness.

“Comrade, you have two choices. You either leave here or die. It’s Martial Law. Anyone who disobeys will be executed.”

Dagong leaps forward and pulls Baiyun to his chest. “Let’s go, please.”

“Did you hear me?” The soldier shouts.

“Yes, please. We will go in a second.”

“No, let her leave by herself.”

“Comrade, please. She’s crazy.”

“I’m not crazy.” Baiyun says firmly. What is the meaning of living in a cold grave, a dead volcano? She wants to go to a place where birds sing, angels dance and she can breathe freely. After giving the Forbidden City a farewell gaze, she makes up her mind.

“Ok, you have five seconds to get off of this bridge. One, two, three, four, five...” The soldier opens fire as Dagong and Baiyun struggle. They fall on the marble bridge and hold each other tightly. Blood soaks into the marble and creates a stain, which resembles an angel.

Except from “Chinese Lolita”

It was a Sunday morning. Mother said she was leaving for work. Father hollered: "You god damn woman, get out of here. Go, stay with your fucking boyfriend. You all get out of here, get out of my house!"

Father had just awakened. His eyes were still fogged. He sat on the bed, meditated for a while, and then stood up. He stumbled a few steps toward the door and poked his head out of his room.

“Meihua, come back. Who said you could go?" He caught me before I slipped out the door. "Go to the kitchen, and see if the garbage needs to be emptied. Goddamn shit! Why do you always have to be reminded?" Waving a filthy athletic shoe in his hand, he stared at me with his half-open, beady eyes. It seemed he might throw the shoe at my head if I did not obey him. I went to the kitchen and did as I was told.

"Where are you going?" Father saw me put on my tight nylon sweater which showed my two small breasts, and a few dabs of blush on my round face.

"I'm going to work!" I said and slammed the door behind me.

It was a cold winter day. The sun moved slowly from behind the white clouds like a shy girl. Water from melting ice was dripping from the roof. "Dita, dita." It sounded so crisp. With slightly softening soil under my feet, I opened the metal buttons on my grey down-coat and untied the blue wool scarf from my face. I breathed deeply and let the clean air enter my nostrils and flow into my lungs. What a beautiful day! I wanted to cry out. Everything was going exactly as I had planned. Father was right about mother meeting her boyfriend. But he did not know my secret. I was going to see one of mother's boyfriends too, of course a different one. I used to call him "Uncle".

It was eight years since I had last seen Uncle Weiming. I had lost track of him completely, but I was quite sure that he was still working at the same place. People in China do not move until they scuff a hole deep enough to bury themselves. Therefore, what should I do if I wanted to visit him? Just go to the factory? Like the old saying says: if you want to go north, just follow the North Star. In this case I followed my instinct.

Sitting on the bus, I gazed at the trees that passed by so fast that I wished the bus would slow down. Questions kept going through my mind. What was I doing here? Visiting mother's old lover who had disappeared eight years ago? Begging a married 35 years old man to be my father while I was old enough to be his lover? Asking him to be my sister Mingming's father again when Mingming did not even know he existed? It was like I was trying to pick up an old rotten melon. My only accomplishment could be to soil my hands.

But in the last couple of weeks, a memory kept haunting me.

It was in 1976, a few weeks after Chairman Mao had died. At an early afternoon, Uncle wandered into our one-story red brick apartment without knocking and sat down on a chair by the dining table. Father, who had used to mother's varieties of friends, nodded stiffly and walked out of the door.

"Uncle!" Having not seen him in two weeks, I was excited. Uncle looked at me and did not respond. "I'll get Mom for you!" I went in front of Mom's bedroom where door was shut closed. "Mom, Uncle is here." I knocked.

"Yes, just a minute." In a while mother strolled out with a cigarette in her mouth. She closed the bedroom door (where she had a visitor) and sat next to Uncle. They both kept silent for a while.

"Got someone new?" Uncle directed his chin toward mother's closed bedroom.

"It's none of your business."

"You pick up fast. Let me say this, if I may. I know who he is. He is a notorious asshole."

"OK!" Mother stood up, ran into her bedroom and rushed back with a paper box in her hand. She opened the box and smacked the whole box of photos of hers and Uncle's onto Uncle's face. "Get out of here, I don't need you anymore! You'd better go back to your pretty young girlfriend!"

Uncle rose up and strode out of the door.

"Uncle, don't go! Uncle, come back!" I chased him and burst into tears.

From then on, laughter and happiness had disappeared in my life. My heart along with those memories had become frozen until now. There had been enough chaos at home. My quiet, hard-working nature had pleased mother and father. I had become such a useful child for them. Gradually I had taken over the household. I cooked, I shopped and I even managed the money. When mother had a problem, she would complain to me; when father was hungry, he would ask me to make something for him to eat. I had been used to the life and felt proud for the responsibilities until I went to college. My vision for life suddenly changed. I realized people did laugh and joke in life; life did not just consist of constant working. I felt incompetent. I needed help. But who could help me? Uncle, the long disappearing Uncle suddenly came back into my memory. "Go to see him. Go to see him." A voice was telling me.

The sun hid behind a cloud for a moment after I got off the bus. Bicyclists, wearing tight blue jeans and red or green down-coats, mingled with the slow moving trolleybuses on the street. The riders shrugged their shoulders. They tried to shrink into their jackets as much as possible to be sheltered from the cold wind. Bags of groceries on both sides of the bicycle handle bars bounced against the wheels. A gust of wind blew into my clothes. I shivered. I snapped closed all the buttons on my down coat, pulled up the zipper as well, and wrapped my scarf around my face.

While walking toward the factory, I felt my heart beating faster. What was I going to say? Uncle's involvement with my mother had not brought him good luck. Seven years ago he had been sentenced to two years community service, while mother served two years in prison for reading Western books and having an extramarital affair. Maybe he was sweeping the floor, or cleaning bathrooms now. The Deng Xiaoping government could not immediately resolve millions of cases like that. Besides, it was not even a political case. My visit could cause him more trouble.

The dull-colored factory building gradually appeared in front of me. Although it was just a one-story, flat-roofed warehouse, it seemed as big as a mountain. A white board painted with the words "Beijing Automobile Parts Factory" was hung on the one of the pillars of the gate, glowing under the sun. I took out a piece of toilet paper in my pocket and wrote down the address. Yes, I had arrived, I said to myself, as cold sweat icily ran down my back.

"Hey, girl, do you need any help?" Like a ghost, a little old man suddenly materialized in front of me.

"I want to ... want to see Wang Meiling." I stuttered. In the panic, I told him my mother's name.

"Who?" After returning to his little station next to the factory gate, the guard glanced at me over the top of his glasses and blinked his raisin eyes.

I did not answer him instead I stared.

"Oh, I know who you are talking about. She's not here anymore. She...she...was arrested years ago." Then he leaned closer to me across the windowsill, widening his lids. "Hey, girl, do you know what kind of crime she has committed? If it were a political crime, the new government by now probably would have pardoned her. But she committed both political and sexual crimes." Suddenly he extended his neck out of the window and spit onto the ground. "To tell the truth, I hate to dirty my mouth. I doubt if she's ever going to be pardoned. Stay away from her!"

I could feel my face burning down over my neck. I wanted to dig a hole on the ground to duck into. When I was just about to escape, I caught a glimpse of some uniformed workers passing the gate. One of them might have been Uncle.

"Uncle!" I ran toward them.

"Stop! Where is your visitor's pass?" The guard jumped out of the station, arms akimbo. His eyes searched through my body. "Oh, I know who you are. You're that dirty woman's kid. I can tell from your face. Get out of here, shit!"

I turned around, and ran away as fast as I could. When I got home, my heart was still pounding like a drum. The next day I wrote a letter to Uncle at the factory.

Dear Uncle,

It has been so many years since you last saw me. I do not know whether you still remember me or not; or if you do, whether you would still recognize me on the street. I am a college student now. I passed the college entrance exam and entered Beijing University. I was the number one student in my high school class and I think you would be proud of me.

Things have hardly changed since you left. Do you still remember my sister Mingming? She is a very intelligent girl. If given a little push, she could become an outstanding student. But that has not happened. My parents are unwilling to give her any attention.

Recently, mother has revealed to me that you are actually Mingming's father. I am not surprised, but I wish you were kind enough to take her away.

I am approaching adulthood. There are things I do not understand when I look back on my life. Maybe you could help me.

Meihua

While enjoying the excitement of this bold adventure, I could not guess if I would receive an answer to my letter. Somehow, deep in my sixth sense, I felt confident. I was quietly, secretly, waiting for a reply.

The following Monday, there was a letter on my bed at home.

Dear Meihua,

I was so glad to receive your letter. I have not forgotten you. I still remember your big beautiful eyes staring at me, trying to get me to tell you stories. I can also recall vividly our long evenings together, talking about China's future. You are one of the most beautiful memories of those turbulent years.

Concerning Mingming, the issue is much more complicated than you can imagine. Societal pressures are too great. She could suddenly become the center of attention at school, be trashed as an evil, illegitimate child.

I think maybe we should meet sometime and talk. How about next Thursday, five O'clock at the Lidou Subway Station? You can write me to say whether that suits you or not.

Fondly, Weiming

I picked him out easily from the crowd around the subway station. His face had not changed much, high cheekbones, long straight nose and sharp eyes. His unusual curly hair made him stand out among Chinese. Age had turned him from a pale young man into a stout man with a slightly bulging belly and weathered skin. I ran toward him. When I had nearly reached him, I stopped, and said, "Uncle?" He was smiling at me, his swarthy face glowing in the dusk. I did not want to shake hands, the gesture seemed awkward to me. A hug was even more out of the question.

Finally I uttered, "It's nice...nice to see you." I cast down my eyes shyly.

"It's nice to see you! Just like your mother, what a big girl!" He came forward and shook hands with me. "Oh!" I nearly cried out. His big hands almost crushed my fingers. Then he threw his arm around my shoulders. We walked into the subway.

"How are you?" Turned, he looked into my eyes, and sounded so sweet.

"I'm Ok."

"How is your mother?"

"As usual."

"What's new with your father, your brother and sister?"

"As usual."

"How is the family situation in general?"

"As usual."

"What is it about all these 'as usual's?"

"Don't you remember? Don't you remember anything about them? Don't you remember how horrible it is? You walked away scot-free. You walked away!" I snapped at him. Before he could react, I bolted toward the train. He followed me. We sat next to each other on a bench as the train rattled down the track. He was quietly looking at the window on the opposite side. In the reflection I could see his solemn face. No longer able to hold them back, my tears streamed down.

Uncle passed me a handkerchief. "I know life has not been easy for you. But I want you to know how lucky you are. You are in college. You should appreciate what you've got." He paused, embracing my shoulders with his arm. "I used to dream of going to college. But I never got the chance to."

Uncle's father was a banker before the Communists took over. He was in high school when the Cultural Revolution came along. After wandering for a few years without a job or home, he was assigned to work in "Beijing Automobile Parts factory", which was a good luck compared with thousands of high school graduates who were forced to spend their lives working in the countryside.

He sighed and continued. "Now it's too late for me to go to college. I'm old and have forgotten most of the things I learned in school." He gazed out the subway window. His tone implied some kind of grief and repentance that I had never heard from him before. In my memories, he had always been a young and happy person.

By the time we left the subway station, it was already dark downtown. In the lighted streets, people rushed back and forth, bicycle bells ringing around us, stores closing.

Uncle walked me to the bus stop. As we were waiting, the question finally burst out. "Are you going to take Mingming away?"

A gust of wind blew my question past his ears. He did not respond.

"I know I shouldn't get into this. Please take her away, please!" I snatched his coat, pulling and shaking violently. "She's twelve years old and has already got into drinking and smoking." I cried.

"Meihua, your bus is here." He pushed me through the door. "Goodbye, college student! Write to me!"

The bus lunged. I did not answer him and cried all the way home.

I went back to school after winter vacation was over. My college life had been very quiet. Nothing went on except for studying. Students had become very diligent after ten years wasted during the "Cultural Revolution". We did not have a choice anyway. No dates or parties were permitted on campus except for special occasions. We had to be in our dormitories before eleven O'clock at night. Therefore, I had plenty of time to satisfy Uncle's expectations --- studying hard. But things did not progress wholly that way. It was impossible to keep my mind working on physics and mathematics 12 hours a day. Although I made myself sit in the library after classes, my mind was often miles away, fantasizing romantic relationships.

I kept writing to Uncle from time to time. His answers were usually short and matter of fact, mostly about his work and his new job in the purchasing department. He rarely mentioned his family. I was not eager to see him again. He had acquired a different image after I had met him. It was hard connecting the Uncle of reality with the Uncle of my memories. First of all, he seemed not as handsome as earlier. After many years of cultivation, he had changed into an ordinary workingman from a rich playboy. Somehow, I had felt responsible for finding Mingming's real father, although his disinterest toward her had surprised me. In the back of my mind, I probably needed him too. But I had not figured out how. I did not confide in mother until I received a letter from Uncle one day.

It was Sunday afternoon. After taking the mail out the mailbox, I found Uncle's letter and tore it open.

Dear Meihua,

I have not heard from you in a while. My new job in the purchasing department is very challenging. I realize how much I have to learn. Last Sunday, I visited the area where your family lived. I rode my bicycle down the street, hoping to encounter you. But I was disappointed. Then I went to the apartment building. I saw your shadow, outlined on the curtain. I tried to imagine you laughing, joking. I stood there for two hours until my hands were frozen, my legs numb......

Fondly, Weiming

The letter made me realize that he was still the old romantic of eight years ago. Since I was so lonely and unhappy, I thought he was the one who truly liked me and needed me. I folded his letter, went to the bathroom, and read it over and over, until mother knocked on the door, to see whether I was all right. I came out, red-eyed and face full of tears.

"What happened?" Mother asked. "Are you all right?" Then she spotted the letter in my hand and snatched it away. After reading the letter, mother sighed and took me into her bedroom. "What's all these about?"

"I went to see Uncle Weiming, and then..." I told mother the whole story.

"Jesus, why do you do that for? He is history. He is gone!"

"Mother, I'm sorry."

"No, I just don't want you to make the same mistake your mother have made. He is very good at flattering girls. If you believe it, you are in trouble." Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, mother sank into deep thought. The cigarette almost burned to the end. Ashes fell on the floor.

"He was always interested in you, you know? He didn't want to be stuck with an old married lady like me. But you were still too young." She blew out smoke slowly, as though she wanted to breath out a painful memory. Then she stubbed the cigarette butt into the ashtray, twisting it hard as if to kill it.

"Stop writing to him! Stop the whole thing! Ok? I beg you. I beg youuuuu..." She grabbed my hands, bursting into tears.

"Look at your mother. Look at your mother. Am I beautiful? Am I smart? Yes. But I was much prettier, and I was smart. Please don't waste your time on someone like him. You have much more important things to do. Study, study hard!"

"Dammit! What are you guys yelling about?" Father sauntered over and pounded his fists on mother's half opened bedroom door.

"We're not talking about you."

"Then don't screaming and shouting. You're going to wake up the whole neighborhood! You don't care about your face. I do." He turned and added, "I know you guys are always plotting about murdering me. Hey, I'm going to live longer than any of you!" He wobbled away.

Mother had never revealed to me that Uncle actually had been interested in me many years ago. I was shocked. I also felt sorry for myself. If only I had known, if only I had known...... It was too late now. He was married. But still he could be my friend, maybe boyfriend. Why not, mother had done it. Having a boyfriend might solve my problems. Lately I often dreamed to be hugged and kissed by someone. I longed for someone who would care about me and listen to my complaints. But I did not like those young men in college. They might be good looking and good students. But they were too simple minded. Could they understand I had acted like a mother for my brother and sister when I was fifteen? Could they understand my mother's boyfriend and my father had lived under the same roof for many years? I was not normal. It was not easy to find someone to understand me.

Without telling mother, I had accepted an invitation from Uncle to visit his home.

On Saturday morning, I took the bus according to the directions he gave me in his letter.

It was a newly developed area. Several grey concrete apartment buildings lined the road. Others were under construction, and their naked skeletons and innards were exposed, bare and ugly.

I walked into a side street, which was the only old-fashioned alley left in the area. The third door on the left was Uncle's. I went though the squeaky wooden gate between two stone-lion sentinels. It was a traditional Chinese house, with a square "four-corner" courtyard in the middle and rooms surrounding it on all sides. An old gray-haired man with darting eyes brushed his teeth in front of the shared outdoor sink. He smiled at me while letting the toothpaste drip from his mouth. I gave him a smirk.

I knocked at the door I thought was Uncle's. A middle-aged lady appeared.

"I am Meihua. I have come to visit Uncle Weiming."

"I am Wuhua, Weiming's wife." She took my hands, "Come on in." I followed her.

"It's nice to see you. I remember you when you were a little girl." Wuhua glanced at me, and smiled.

Good! I thought. She did not mention my mother.

Their daughter Qinmei was just getting up. Uncle was braiding her pigtail, which reminded me of the past.

"Could you fix your own pigtails now? Oh!" Uncle looked at my freshly trimmed short haircut, shook his head. "Do you still remember what I told you? Girls should have pigtails, boys have short hair."

I smiled quietly. Wuhua handed me a basket full of delicious "Big Rabbit" candies from Shanghai. After dressing Qinmei, we left for the subway station. We were going to take a ride around the new subway system.

Uncle's wife, Wuhua, was a typical workingwoman. She had short straight hair and dark skin. She wore an old semi-transparent polyester blouse, a pair of faded pants, and a pair of not-so-clean, soft walking shoes. Uncle carried Qinmei on his shoulders. She spun her head.

"See, Mommy, I am taller than you are!" She shouted proudly.

Wuhua and I followed quietly. I stared at the ground, counting my steps. I did not know what to say to her. She also worked in the same factory and knew a lot about mother and Uncle. To my surprise, she was very nice to me. I asked myself, "O.K., what am I doing here?" Uncle had finally given up his crazy oath to "never marry in his life". He had found a wife, had a daughter, and lived like everyone else. Why should I not leave him alone?

A gust of cool air swept my face as we walked down the stairs in the subway station. The guards, wearing winter down-coats in the late spring, with their hands in the coat pockets, walked back and forth. Their faces were shadowed, backs slightly hunched.

"Dad, tell me a story." Qinmei whispered into his ear, while we all sat together in the train.

"Which story do you want to hear?"

"I want to know what happened after the 'little cloth boy' got lost from Linlin's pocket." She stared at Uncle with two wistful eyes.

"Ok. After the 'little cloth boy' slipped out of Linlin's pocket during her primary school graduation party..."

While Uncle was talking, the window on the other side of the train turned into a mirror against the dark. The mirror reflected Uncle with his child, and his wife watching them.

Then the scene changed to one that had happened fifteen years earlier when I was seven years old. Sitting on Uncle's lap, I listened to him tell the same story. Mother sat next to us, holding a cigarette. The clanging of drums outside the window during those noisy "Cultural Revolution" demonstrations still rang in my ears.

Gradually, the scene shifted to my home when I was fourteen. Mother and I sat around the pot-bellied coal stove, listening to Uncle narrating a banned story about Mrs. Mao's illegal activities right before the fall of the "Gang of Four".

Then the scene switched to another that had occurred in the same room.

After staring at me for quite a while, Uncle said, "Meihua, do you know you have a pair of very beautiful eyes?"

"Thank you, Uncle." I put down my head and nodded shyly. Mother sat next to me, smiling. "Just like mother's." I added. I honestly thought mother was prettier than me.

"No, you mother's eyes are round like peanuts while yours are long like almonds." Uncle squinted as though he was measuring the size of my eyes.

From then on, I would look at myself in the mirror every day, trying to comprehend Uncle's comments: you have a pair of very beautiful eyes. Although I always thought my nose was too flat, my mouth too big and my face too wide, Uncle's comments were certainly encouraging. After all, my eyes were beautiful, even more beautiful than mother's. After Uncle had left, I became so unhappy that I messed up my eyesight and put on a pair of ugly glasses.

With the sad memory still floating in my mind, the scenes faded. Our trip finally came to an end. I jumped out of the train and walked forward quietly.

"I hope you didn't feel too cold in the train," said Wuhua.

"No. It's the darkness that bothers me." I answered.

She nodded. I was not sure that she understood what I was talking about. No one could imagine life with a mother who had both a husband and a boyfriend. It was a slow torture of the heart. It was like the subway system, an existence without sunlight.

It was noon. The sun struck my face. I had difficulty opening my eyes. They kept blinking for a while.

In his house, Uncle tied an apron around his waist and became the cook. Back in the past, one of the biggest joys of Uncle's visits was his cooking. I still remembered vividly how much I had liked his deep fried pork, chicken and meatballs, varieties of stir-fried dishes, and steamed fish. He sat in front of our coal stove, waiting hours for the oil to get hot. Fortunately, the gas stove he had now was much faster. As I hoped, everything arrived on the little table in the courtyard in about an hour. We sat around it on little stools. Uncle served everyone a bowl of rice. In five minutes, three pairs of chopsticks swam in the dishes of sweet and sour pork, stir-fried green beans, hot and spicy bean curd, and chicken turnip soup.

Wuhua fed Qinmei. Busy with eating, Qinmei was unusually quiet, except when she asked for what she wanted.

"No, I don't want pork, I want bean curd." She pointed her fat little finger toward the table, while trying to spit out the pork in her mouth. She had a hard time doing so because the meat had stuck between her teeth.

The neighbors were cooking and doing laundry in the yard. The stir-fry smoke and the melodies of the Peking Opera on the radio lingered in the air, like an invisible roof over the courtyard.

Uncle sat quietly through dinnertime. Unlike the others, he did not have any rice. Instead, he drank white wine. Under the shade of trees around the house, his face was like a bronze statue, solemn and motionless. Along with eating roasted peanuts, he drank slowly.

"You are at Beijing University. It must be an exciting place." Wuhua started a conversation.

"Not really. It's a very boring place." I answered.

"Boring? Why? I thought Beijing University was the number-one university in the whole country."

"Yes. But it's also very boring. Nothing happens. We spend our days in the library, studying, studying and studying."

"Is that right?" She looked lost.

"But recently it has been fun. Local free elections had turned the campus up-side-down." I thought I should tell her about another aspect of my school. "Big-letter posters about reforming our country had covered the campus like a snow storm. Candidates gave public speeches on the street corners and in the cafeterias, from morning till night. I had been to public debates every night. Sometimes the meeting hall was so crowded that we had to stand outside to listen. We discussed everything from the pros and cons of Communism and Capitalism to the Feminist movement. For the first time in three years, I discovered friendly, interesting students at my university. Finally, the citizens of Beijing West District elected one of our brightest graduate students to represent them."

Uncle and Wuhua listened quietly. Maybe it was hard for those who had wasted their youth in political movements to share my enthusiasm for the demonstrations, and to comment on the college life they had never experienced.

In a while, Uncle stood up, the shade of nearby trees scattered on his face. His eyelids glistened under the spots of sunlight. He put his hand on my shoulder, looked into my eyes and said to me, "I am going to lie down for a while. I'm tired. You and Wuhua can talk. Ok?"

He left quickly. Wuhua was about to help him into the bedroom. He pushed her back and said, "I can take care of myself."

Wuhua came back and sighed, "I am sorry. He is like that once in a while."

Seeing Uncle in such a bad mood, I began to ask myself again what I was doing here.

"Do you have to clean dishes?" Wuhua asked me, trying to put aside her worries.

"Only during weekends at home." I said, beginning to admire her.

"How lucky you are! But you'd better be prepared for it. After you get married and have children, you have to do it every day."

"I'm not sure I want to get married." I said uncertainly. In my mind the idea of "marriage" still seemed far, far away. Love was yet to come, let alone marriage.

"Why? It's nice to be married and have children." She was really surprised.

As I washed dishes at the sink, the old man I met earlier came up to me and asked, "Are you Wuhua's......"

"No, Weiming's niece."

"Oh, his brother's daughter?"

Nodding my head, I lied. During the years I grew up while mother enjoyed her modern life style, I had learned how terrible gossip could be. Gossips could chop you into pieces. Wuhua handed me more dishes and turned around, facing down the old man.

"Hey, what are you doing here? Does she bother you? Let me tell you it's none of your business who she is! You'd better piss on the ground, and admire yourself in it!" Then she grabbed the dishpan from my hands, and walked back into her home.

Wuhua hung some winter jackets and blankets outside to make use of the bright summer sunshine.

Walking through the house alone, I noticed two books lying on top of the dresser. One was high school algebra; the other was a book about international trade. I opened the second one, started reading. The clock struck 3. I wondered about my being here. It had been an hour and half since Uncle had gone to sleep.

I tiptoed into the bedroom. Uncle snored heavily. With his eyes half open, his rough, freckled face was red and twisted. His chest bulged. His hands were clenched into fists. It seemed he was ready to fight someone in his dream. The longer I stayed, the louder his snoring became. It resonated in my head like the humming of a primitive song, like a desperate cry, like the rumbling of thunder. Then it stopped. Uncle was awake.

He stared at me with red, sleepy eyes. I rushed toward him. He grabbed my arms and murmured, "Meihua, Meihua, is that you?" His dry cracked lips trembled.

"Yes, Uncle." I moved closer to him. He opened his mouth again, and struggled to say something. But he sighed and dropped his head instead. "Meihua, would you leave here, please?" My heart, which had risen up in my throat, now plunged down like an anchor deep into the sea. I quietly stood up and walked toward the door.

"Meihua, wait a minute." Uncle got up quickly, opened the bottom draw of the dresser and pulled out a beautiful pair of stone washed blue jeans. "Please give these to Mingming." Then he turned around and never looked back.

The sun glared in the sky like an iron sphere, the air hot and still. Summer had arrived. Young women, wearing bright colored skirts and broad brim hats, rode their bikes slowly and beautifully. Young men, dressed in tight blue jeans and fashionable sunglasses, comfortably wrapped their arms around the young ladies' bare smooth shoulders.

I adjusted my sight, and everything became much clearer. I walked faster, trying to catch up with everyone.