Calls Across the Pacific

by Zoë S. Roy

  “Yes, Grandma likes that word and intends to keep it there for good,” Ahua explained.

  “It’s very nice. Congratulations,” Nina said and then turned to Rei. “I have been so worried about you all this time, wondering what might have happened to you that night I heard gunshots. Did you get shot by the military patroller?”

  “A bullet grazed my arm. I was lucky. The PLA solders didn’t know you were with me. I lied and told them that I’d lost direction when I rowed the boat for fun. They didn’t believe me but couldn’t find anything suspicious since I’d dropped all my stuff into the water before they reached me. Anyway, I was still put behind bars for a year.”

  Nina told him her own brief story, and Rei listened in amazement. When they talked about Mao’s death they quickly realized they shared the same sentiment. “I’m sure things will change soon.”

  Rei told her about his wife. “We’re both working at the same factory now. Back in high school, she was two years my junior. She returned to the city after getting her re-education in the country.” Rei’s face glowed under the light. “We’re expecting some opportunity before we’re too old.”

  “What opportunity?” Nina asked.

  “Not sure. Maybe the opportunity of going to college. It seems impossible though. I have a criminal record. Ahua’s father is still a revolutionary target.”

  “Grandma wants to go to bed,” Ahua called.

  The old woman said goodnight, and with Ahua’s help, she shuffled to her bed in a corner.

  “It’s eleven-thirty.” Rei looked at his watch and told his wife he would walk Nina to the bus stop and be back soon.

  Nina could not decline Rei’s offer and went with him to the bus stop. They waited for a while, but no bus came. Rei decided to accompany her all the way home. He did not think it was safe for her to walk alone at night. “I’ve been practicing kung fu. I know how to fight if needed.”

  By the time Nina reached her mother’s building, all the windows were dark except for the one in her mother’s room. The light made her heart swell with warm feelings. Mother’s waiting up for me, she thought. She felt as if she were a little girl again, yearning to be home after being away all day long. Nina waved goodbye to Rei and hastened up the stairs.

  14.

  LOST SHEEP

  WHEN NINA SAID she planned to visit the former military farm in Yunnan where she had laboured years earlier, her mother offered to pay for a berth on the train. Booking that type of seat required an approval from the authorities, and it was usually unavailable to ordinary passengers.

  Mother said, “I have savings of seven hundred yuan that can pay for ten such trips.”

  “I didn’t bring any money to you. How can I use yours?”

  “Silly girl.” Mother chuckled. “What else can I use the money for? I have more money than I need. In addition, I get some compensation for your father from the naval academy.”

  Nina looked into her mother’s shining eyes and was touched. “Thanks.”

  “You’re my only child. My extra money is yours.”

  Several days later, Nina boarded an express train to Kunming City. When she located her sleeping car, three passengers were already sitting on two of the lower bunks. Hers was at the top of triple bunks in the compartment. She greeted the people and placed her travel bag under the lower bed since all the higher berths were still folded against the wall.

  The other passengers were middle-aged and well-groomed. Two men in white shirts and dark blue pants were seated next to a woman who moved inward to leave some space for Nina to sit. “You have a nice T-shirt,” she said to Nina with a smile

  “Thank you,” Nina said, noting her neighbour’s white blouse and olive green skirt. “Do you work in the army?” she asked.

  “Yes,” the military woman said, nodding and smiling. When the other men went outside, she asked, “Do you speak English?”

  “Yes. Sure,” Nina answered in English, astonished. “How did you know?”

  “I gathered from your T-shirt and from the way you spoke,” the woman said in a hushed voice. “I studied in the U.S. thirty years ago.”

  “Are you a doctor?” Nina asked, wondering about her life in China since then.

  “You guess right, too,” the woman said with a grin. She pressed a few loose hairs under a black hair clip on the right side of her head. “I survived the Cultural Revolution. At the beginning, I was treated as an outcast because of my training in the U.S., and then confined, but later they realized they needed me to do medical research. Therefore, I’ve been sheltered from the political chaos. Are you a student in the U.S.?”

  “I graduated this year. I’ve come back to see my mother, who is also a doctor.”

  On the same wavelength as Nina, the woman was open about her own past. From the conversation, Nina learned more about the treatment of people who were trained in the U.S. during the Cultural Revolution. Like her father, they had all been deemed potential enemies of the State or obstacles to the revolutionary cause.

  When the other passengers returned, they stopped speaking in English, and started to converse in Chinese, chatting pleasantly about weather and daily life.

  In the evening, two more passengers joined them. They managed to open the upper berths and Nina climbed to her top bunk and read a book.

  Two days later, the train finally arrived at Kunming. The army doctor gave Nina a note with an address. “We have a military hostel in the city. It’s safe and inexpensive. Tell them I sent you. The person in charge is my former student.”

  “Thanks so much.” Nina shook her hand. “I hope your dream of revisiting your alma mater will come true.”

  “Thank you for refreshing my rusty English. I do hope to visit my alma mater in New York someday. Who knows?” The doctor strode to a soldier waiting for her on the platform. Because civilians and soldiers wore such dark colours, the doctor quickly merged in the crowd and disappeared.

  Nina found the hostel the doctor had recommended and got a single bedroom. The following morning, as planned, she arrived at Spring City University to look for the address of Dahai’s mother, Meihua Wei. She used to be an art professor at the university before being incarcerated in a labour camp. Even if she was not out of the camp, at the very least Nina might be able to meet with some of his other family members, from whom she could learn, hopefully, Dahai’s whereabouts. On her way to the administration building, some of his words ran through her mind again: “If I die, find my brother and sister. Tell them my story.” Her heart tightened, and her steps became heavier. I’m here to find out about you, Dahai.

  At the front desk, she was redirected to a clerk in an office at the end of the hallway. Nina walked up to the reception and politely introduced herself. “Good morning. I am Nina Huang. Could you tell me if Meihua Wei or her family still live on campus?”

  The woman stared at her. “Who are you?”

  “I’m her former student,” Nina answered politely.

  “You don’t sound like you’re from here,” the clerk said in an unpleasant voice.

  “I came from Guangzhou,” she explained. “I have a business meeting in Kunming. I’d like to have a brief visit with her.” She selected her words carefully, not wanting to cause any suspicion.

  “You must have a high-paying job in order to travel this far,” the woman said, sitting back. “You graduated from here?”

  “No. She tutored me when I was a child,” Nina said, aware that lying about being a graduate might cause trouble.

  After looking Nina up and down with the scowl on her face, the clerk finally shrugged and turned to look through a pile of booklets she withdrew from a black cabinet that towered against the back wall of the office. She pulled one of the booklets out of the pile and laid it on her desk, then leafed through it quickly. Finally, her gaze fell on a specific page. She was curt. “The Wei family lives at A
partment 202 in a five-storey staff dormitory that faces a basketball court.”

  Relieved, Nina’s heart returned to its normal beat. “Could you please tell me the name of the building?”

  “Number Ten.” The clerk closed her booklet.

  Nina exhaled, thanked her, and left. High-spirited, she walked and prayed that Dahai’s mother had been released from the labour camp.

  Finally, she found Number Ten, and entered the building. As she stood in front of Apartment 202, she took a deep breath. Hesitating for only a second, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and an oversized woman appeared, her wrinkled forehead covered with wispy grey bangs. “Who are you looking for?”

  “Is Professor Wei at home?” Nina asked, remembering what Dahai had told her. “I think you are Yao.”

  “Yes. Who are you?”

  “I’m an old friend of Dahai’s.”

  The grey-haired woman looked her quizzically. “A friend?” She shook her head with astonishment. “After all these years?”

  “Is he here?” Nina asked, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. She wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead, and smiled politely at the older woman.

  “Come on in.”

  Yao turned around, her two thick grey braids, ends tied together, swishing softly against her back. Nina followed her inside and sat down on the closest chair.

  Yao set a glass of hot tea on the table. “Help yourself,” she said, and then added, “You’re his friend, but don’t you know what’s happened to him?”

  Every nerve in Nina’s body tingled. Holding her breath, she asked, “Is he all right? We have been out of touch for some time.”

  “I am sorry, but he is dead,” Yao said, wiping her eyes with the hem of her apron.

  The last thread of hope snapped. A black balloon had suddenly popped in front of Nina’s face and all went dark. Her hand reached out and took Yao’s arm. “How?” was the only word she could sound out.

  “Many years ago, a young man from Burma brought me Dahai’s last letter,” Yao said, rubbing her forehead lightly with her fingers. “I remember now. It was 1971.”

  “Was that fellow named Wang?” Nina remembered Dahai’s plan.

  “Yes, yes,” Yao said. “His name was on the tip of my tongue. My memory isn’t as good as yours.”

  “Do you have the letter?”

  “His mother has it. You need to wait for her.”

  Nina wept. Yao patted Nina on her shoulder while her other hand continued to pull the hem of her apron to wipe the tears pouring down her own face. Nina nestled her head in her arms on the table, and the sorrow she felt was accentuated with every pat of Yao’s compassionate hand. When the door opened, Nina lifted her head and watched a woman enter the room. Yao stood and shuffled over to her, speaking to her in soft tones.

  The woman looked to be in her early fifties, but her shoulder-length hair was greying, and her face was covered in spidery lines that spoke to a life of worry and hardship. Nina gazed into her deep-set, light-brown eyes, and right away she recognized Dahai. “Mrs. Wei?” Nina assumed she was Dahai’s mother. “I was Dahai’s friend. Yao has told me the shocking news.”

  The woman nodded and gave her a slight smile. “Let’s go out for lunch. We can talk about Dahai. I don’t want my other children to overhear us as I don’t want them to be upset. Knowing less is better for them, and makes things easier for them at school too.”

  “Yes, of course,” Nina said, rising from her chair.

  “Wait a second,” Mrs. Wei said, as she went into another room, and then quickly returned with something that she slipped into her bag.

  Nina followed her to a restaurant that served rice noodles. Since it was early for lunch hour, they got their seats right away. “The beef noodles are a delicacy in this city,” said Mrs. Wei, who ordered two large bowls. “It’s my treat.”

  As they ate the rice noodles, Nina started her story from the moment she had discussed her escape plan with Dahai. Despite the fact it was her first time meeting Dahai’s mother, Nina felt as though she had known her for years, so she also told her everything that had happened to her in Hong Kong as well as her experiences in North America.

  When Nina mentioned taking her citizenship oath in front of the American flag, she could hear the first line of the American national anthem resound in her ears: O! say can you see by the dawn’s early light, what so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming….

  Dahai’s mother listened attentively to the description of that solemn event, and the last lyric of the anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” flashed through her mind as well: “O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.” She had told Nina that she had actually been born in America and that she had come to China to find her father and then never left. She missed America but felt happy for Nina: This brave girl has reached the free land. Slowly, Dahai’s mother took out a sheet of paper from her purse and gave it to Nina. “This is Dahai’s letter that Wang brought to Yao five years ago. I didn’t have the chance to meet him as I was in jail then.”

  “I know Wang. He and Dahai planned to join the Vietnam War together,” Nina said, “but I don’t know why they ended up in Burma.” Holding the page with her trembling hands, she read it and learned that Dahai and Wang had not reached Vietnam, and had instead joined the People’s Army led by the Communist Party of Burma, and fought to liberate the Burmese poor people. In the letter, Dahai had told Yao, and his brother and sister, that if he died, his blood would wash away his parents’ anti-revolutionary crimes. After reading it twice, Nina stared at the date of on the page: March 22, 1970, and the memory of an old nightmare came suddenly to mind. It was a dream she had had on an Easter Sunday night, years ago, a dream about a fallen lamb, its face stained with blood and its feet struggling to stand. “I understand my dream now,” she said to Mrs. Wei.

  Mrs. Wei said, “According to what Wang told Yao, that battle started on the Thursday. Dahai fell on the Sunday.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed her eyes. “I know the 1970 calendar by heart. One week after Dahai wrote this letter, it was Easter Sunday. And that is the day he passed away. Don’t you see? Your dream predicted his death.”

  Shocked at the realization that her vision of the dead sheep coincided with Dahai’s death, Nina shuddered. Something had happened beyond her understanding. Her nightmare six years earlier had been a sign of Dahai’s fate, but she had not accepted it until now. She looked at Mrs. Wei and saw a mixed facial expression. To comfort her, Nina explained, “Back then, us youth, we were easily and stupidly fooled by all the propaganda. We were duped. And not many of us knew what we were doing.”

  “I wish he’d fled with you,” murmured Dahai’s mother. Touched by Nina’s words, she added, “We of the older generation were and even now are also mixed up.” She stretched out her hand to Nina. “Forget Dahai. Enjoy your new life in Canada.”

  “What about you? Do you plan to return to the States?” Nina placed the letter back into Dahai’s mother’s hand.

  “I have so many matters to deal with,” Mrs. Wei explained. “I am still looking for my Chinese father and hope to find him some day. My mother still lives in Boston. She planned to visit us last month, but her visa was rejected.” She sighed audibly, and patted Nina’s hand. “Now after Mao’s death, things may eventually change. Then we shall see.”

  Nina nodded. In hesitation, she asked, “Can I meet Dahai’s brother and sister? I promised him.”

  “Sure, but please don’t mention Dahai. Stay with us for supper. I’ll introduce you as my former student.”

  Nina agreed but she needed to go back to her hostel before visiting with Dahai’s family later that afternoon. After saying goodbye to Dahai’s mother, she walked to a bus stop. Through the branches of the tall fir trees, she looked up at the sky which was a clear and beautiful blue. A few white clo
uds clustered together seemed to take the shape of a flock of sheep standing at the foot of a mountain. The lambs have grown up into sheep. Mao is dead, and the dark days will go away entirely, she thought with relief.

  Roger popped into her mind and she wondered what he was doing. She took a deep breath and smiled as she realized that she could now love him wholly and deeply. In Guangzhou, she had called him once at the general post office to tell him of her safe arrival, but she hadn’t spoken to him since, and now she missed him. She decided to send him a postcard and tell him what she had learned. He would be happy, she thought.

  Her next destination was Jinghong County where the Number Five Military Farm was situated. A long-distance bus took her to the county bus terminal.

  In the dusk, she strode to Tiande Village to find Zeng, who had helped her escape years earlier. Under the moonlight, she groped for a tall oak tree and turned right. Then a walled yard appeared in front of her. The yard gate, which was made from various tree branches, was ajar. From the opening, she saw someone sitting by the door of the dimly-lit house. “Is Zeng at home? I’m a friend,” she called out.

  “She moved out a while ago,” answered a teenage boy. “Where are you from? I’m her brother.”

  “Earthy, it’s Nina. Are your folks at home?”

  “Hello! Come on in. I remember you,” the seventeen-year-old boy said, turning around to beckon his parents who were inside the house.

  Zeng’s parents were surprised and pleased to see Nina. Zeng’s mother kept telling Nina that her mother’s medical team had visited the village in 1952. “You know, she taught me how to write and read. Is she still as tall and healthy as before?”

  “Yes, she is.” Nina took a few packages from her satchel and laid them on the table. “These gifts are for you, from my mother.”

  Nina discovered that Zeng had married and now lived in an apartment allotted by her husband’s work unit. Earthy promised to take her there the next morning.