by Zoë S. Roy
16.
AN AMERICAN SPY ON THE RUN
AWAKENED BY THE children giggling and the adults talking, Nina sat up in her bedroll and squinted in the penetrating sunlight to look around. Some of the parents were helping their children dress, while others were feeding their toddlers water and pancakes. Several persons stood around Kali’s husband as she fed her two children. Once finished, the husband grabbed his little daughter’s hand, while the other was stretched out to his wife who held the baby boy in her arms.
“You made up this story, right?” a man with a brush cut asked, his voice anxious.
“I think what he said is true,” said Huguo. “Let’s wake up Nina and the others.”
“I’m up now.” Nina pulled herself up off the floor and asked, “What’s happened?”
“This fellow,” answered Huguo, gesturing to the local peasant, “came to tell us that the Party Secretary of the village heard about you. He’s organizing the militia and coming soon to interrogate you as an American spy. Our friend here wants to take his kids and wife home, but Kali doesn’t want to go.”
Nina walked up to Kali and smiled at her. “For safety’s sake, take your children home.” She turned to the others. “All of us should leave here as soon as possible.”
“No, we’ll see what the militia plans to do to us,” the man with the brush cut said.
One woman responded, “Don’t forget that ‘eggs must not quarrel with stones.’ We should evade the militia.”
At that moment, many younger farm workers arrived at the gate. “We’re here to support you. More will come.”
“Thank you all.” Huguo turned around and raised his voice: “Listen, everyone. We have nobody from America. Okay? Nina is from Guangzhou. She’s our former co-worker, right?”
“Yes. How could an American get to this part of the country?” someone else called out.
Huguo spoke to Nina, “You should leave right now. I’ll drive you to the bus terminal.”
“I’m sorry to cause this trouble.” Nina took her satchel and turned to the others. “My friends, I enjoyed being with you. Thanks for your friendship and time. We’ll see each other again.” She asked Dongfang to take care of the bicycle and return it to Zeng for her.
Some people cried out, “Goodbye” and “Take care.”
After starting one of the tractors, Huguo asked Nina to stand on the bottom step next to his seat and to hold tightly to the metal bar of the seat. “No matter how soon the militia comes, they definitely can’t catch up with my powerful engine,” he said with a confident smile. The machine then jerked and inched forward on the muddy road.
They arrived at Zeng’s home where Nina picked up her bag and hastily said goodbye to Zeng and her family. Then, she and Huguo were on the run again.
At the bus terminal, Nina gave her mailing address to Huguo. “I don’t know if your letter can reach anyone outside of China. Here’s my mother’s address. You can contact her. Don’t put yourself in trouble for this ‘American spy’ incident.”
Huguo replied, “Don’t worry. I will survive. Winter’s gone; spring’s come around. Take good care of yourself.”
Nina boarded a bus. From the window, she watched Huguo’s tractor disappear from sight down the dusty street. Her heartbeat eventually returned to normal.
At the Kunming Railway Station, after lining up for several hours in the booking office, Nina bought a ticket to Guangzhou. When she finally located her seat on the train, she felt as if she had won the lottery. I’m finally out of the reach of the militia, she thought with relief when she laid her pack under the seat and sat next to a man whose gaze was fixed on whatever was outside the window. Across from her bench was a couple engrossed in conversation.
Nina noticed the man next to her was wearing a clean but faded blue shirt with several patches. His greying hair suggested that he was in his late fifties. As the train started, the view of buildings in various sizes moved past; streets and roads faded away. Soon, vegetable fields and rice paddies came into view. His gaze never wavered from the window. It was as if he was memorizing every building, every road, and every field that hurried past.
About an hour later, the man finally turned his head to look at Nina. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Guangzhou.”
“That’s far away. You’re going home?” he asked, his heavy eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the interior of the train after having faced the sunlight for so long.
“Yes. What about you?”
“I’m going to see my son in the country.” His face was clouded, but he seemed eager to talk. “He broke his legs during a rock blasting operation,” he said, his knuckles gently rapping the table in front of him. “My son and daughter both settled in the countryside in 1968. Last year, in the factory where my late wife used to work, there was a job available for one of our children, who was allowed to work and live in Kunming. My son let his sister take the opportunity. Now with his shattered legs, he has no chance of finding a good job or even of farming well.” He drew in a deep breath. “My boy is suffering so much. I’m going to take him home.”
“Where is he?” Nina asked, her heart breaking for him.
“Red Water River County. He could’ve chosen a closer area, but he decided to go there. He told us that during the Long March in 1935, Mao’s Red Army had passed the Red Water River. So he was determined to get a revolutionary education there. He’s so headstrong,” said the man, his eyes shining with pride for his son. “His sister went with him. Two heads are better than one. My wife used to cry because she missed them so much. Now their mother is gone, but my son’s still there. My third child, a daughter, is in high school. Hopefully, she doesn’t have to receive re-education. I am working class,” the man smirked. “She can get re-education from me.”
The couple on the opposite seat were listening to his story along with Nina. They shared the story of their daughter who had settled in a nearby village so they could visit her more often. The husband said, “Besides, because I work on the railway, and we have free tickets to travel.”
“You are lucky,” the grey-haired man next to Nina said. “This is my first time on the train in fifteen years. I haven’t been able to afford to buy a ticket. I still have two kids who don’t have jobs.” He then asked about any possibilities of getting a job with the railway. The couple gave him their names and address. “We’re working class. We should help one another. Come to see us when you’re back in Kunming again.”
The husband checked his watch and said they had about twenty minutes before they had to get off at the next station. “Since we have gotten to know each other a little bit, let me tell you something else.” He looked around to make sure no one looked suspicious. “I’ve been to a foreign country.”
The grey-haired man stared incredulously at the younger man across from him. “You don’t mean the country across the ocean with high-nosed devils?”
“Not the high-nosed in the West. The people I met were Black,” answered the railway man, with a chuckle.
“You’ve been to Africa, then?” asked the older man, his head tilted toward the storyteller.
“Yes, I was in Tanzania for a year,” the younger man lowered his voice. “And guess what?”
“Our Black brothers only had dark bread to eat,” the older man replied without hesitation.
“You’re wrong, ha!” The railway worker said, his hand slapping his thigh excitedly. “They eat and dress better than us. Their streets are clean. Pedestrians get fined if they spit and litter on the streets.”
“Really?” muttered the older man, shaking his head. He was surprised to hear that many ordinary people in Tanzania owned cars.
The railway worker seemed to know what was in his new friend’s head. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
A puzzled look on his face, the o
lder man said, “I thought the people in Africa lived in poverty and needed our help to build their railways.” He ran his hands lightly through his hair. “I think we’re poorer than them. Why do they need our country to help them?”
“Guess what? Most people there love Chairman Mao just like us or maybe more than us. When they saw me, they had their thumbs up, and they said, ‘Chairman Mao is good.’” With a grin on his face, he added, “I bet Mao was the leader of the Third World.”
“Let’s not talk about this,” replied the older man. His head shook from right to left, and then he grumbled, “Otherwise, I might say something that is politically incorrect.”
“You’re right. Let’s not invite trouble.”
At the next stop, the couple said goodbye, and two passengers who had been standing nearby plopped immediately into the available seats.
Later, an announcement sounded through the speaker: “Passenger comrades: It’s time for supper. Fifty fen for each meal box. Please have the right amount of money ready.”
A train attendant manoeuvred a cart with difficulty around the crowded passengers standing in the aisle. Every few seconds, she would call out, “Please leave me some space!”
Some travellers bought the food, while others opened containers filled with their homemade meals. With her Styrofoam container in hand, Nina was happy to eat even if her meal consisted only of plain rice, two slices of fatty pork, and a couple of shreds of napa cabbage.
A second announcement about the checking of tickets followed. Nina noticed that the two occupants in the opposite seats got up and hurried away. Maybe they don’t have tickets, she thought, recalling how she had done the same thing years before. Two other persons took the freed-up seats in no time. Eventually, it got dark outside, the light on the train emitting only a dull glow.
Several hours later, threading her way through the crowd, Nina avoided stumbling over the people slouching down in the aisle. She made her way to the washroom and entered with her pack of toiletries. She turned on the tap, but no water came out, so she was only able to wipe her face and hands with the small cloth she had in her bag. Then she went to look for the water boiler in hopes of finding some drinking water, but only a few brown drops trickled out of the tap. “None of the boilers have water at this time,” a nearby woman explained.
“What time will the water be available?”
“Try in the early morning. I got some boiled water at six this morning”
Back in her seat, lulled by the successive sounds and motion of the train, Nina gradually fell asleep.
At dawn, the train stopped and the speaker announced, “Guiyang City!” Nina woke and raised her head from up off the table. It was the place where her neighbour needed to transfer to another train. The older passenger had already pulled his bag out from under his seat. Nina helped him get the other one he had placed on the upper rack. “Good luck to you and your son.”
The man thanked her and hurried away. As soon as Nina moved to the seat beside the window, another woman sat down next to her. Nina felt so lucky that she was able to stay seated and tried to fall asleep with her head lying on a folded jacket she had placed against the window. There were still many passengers standing in the aisle or crouched on the floor wherever there was room.
A baby’s loud wails woke Nina up from a fitful sleep. She decided to get up and stretch her legs. In an unoccupied washroom, there was still no water running from the taps. Back in her seat, she felt even wearier than before. “Have you had breakfast?” she asked the woman next to her.
“It’s over. You’ll have to wait till lunchtime,” the woman replied. Then, in an excited voice, she asked, “Would you like some eggs?”
“Boiled eggs?” Nina was tempted.
“No, fresh ones. Look,” she said, lifting a covered basket from the floor, and then setting it on the table carefully. “If you want to buy some, I’ll let you see them.”
Before Nina could respond, two middle-aged women from the opposite seats asked at the same time, “How much?”
“Ten fen each,” the egg owner said, pulling back a corner of the cloth covering the basket. “Very large eggs. You can’t find them at this price at the market. How many would you like?”
“Ten for each of us,” one woman said after peeking under the cover. She pulled a round metal container out of her sack and laid it on the table. Her friend counted the eggs, her fingers moving deftly around them. After the desired eggs were laid first in the container and then in a plastic basin, the vendor charged each woman one yuan.
More people approached the woman and bought eggs. When the train stopped, the woman got off, her basket empty, but her pocket full of bills and coins. One of the buyers told Nina that the state-owned commercial market did not allow individuals to sell certain goods such as meats, eggs, tea, and peanuts, so peddlers came to sell their goods on the train. She noticed Nina’s surprise. “Are you from outer space? How can you know nothing about this popular underground market?”
“I haven’t taken the train for ages,” said Nina, her mouth curving into a smile.
Half an hour later, the train stopped again at a large station. Nina followed other passengers to get off the car. From one of the food stands, she bought a glass bottle of mineral water and a packet of cookies. She also found a sink with running water to wash her face and brush her teeth.
In Hunan Province, more peddlers boarded the train to sell eggs, cigarettes, peanuts, and sausages. Some even hawked live chickens. As the train ambled to the next station, the vendors paced the aisles up and down, trying to sell as much as they could. At the next station, the vendors would detrain.
Once the train stopped, many teenaged girls and boys appeared under the windows with fruit, steamed buns, bottled water, or juice in their baskets. They raised their goods up to the passengers. Without getting off the train, buyers purchased food and drink through open windows though both seller and buyer had to work hard to stretch their arms across to each other. There was more than enough food for travellers to choose from different station platforms. Nina bought her meals through the window, too. The boxed food served on the train no longer attracted anyone.
Nina contemplated what Mao would have done if he had been alive and known about the peddling business taking place in his birth province of Hunan. His policies had forbidden private enterprise.
She also wondered whether she would interrogated or arrested if it was discovered that she was from North America. She was comforted by the thought that people seemed more attentive to business than to the revolution. They are all jumping at the chance to live a better life. And that put a smile on her tired face.
17.
AT DAWN
NINA DISEMBARKED AT the Guangzhou Railway Station on Friday at noon and boarded a bus to Yuexiu Street. But ten minutes into the ride, the bus came to a sudden stop at the corner of Yuexiu Street North. The driver turned his head to the passengers and announced: “A parade is ahead of us on the road. This is as far as we can go for the time being.” Nina followed the other passengers and got off the bus, their collective feet scuffling along the street. A crowd of people from the parade turned onto a side street. Some of them held up framed portraits of Mao dressed all in black, while others lifted portraits of a middle-aged man in an army uniform. A red banner lifted high among the heads in the crowd had the slogan: “Support Chairman Hua Guofeng!” on it. She realized the day was October 1, China’s National Day. Three weeks had passed since Nina had first arrived back in China.
It was a short parade with demonstrators calling out a few catch phrases: “Chairman Mao lives with us forever!”, “Follow Chairman Hua!” and “Carry on Hua’s Revolutionary line!” Eventually the demonstrators merged with the onlookers, the posters held high over their shoulders, and the crowd started to thin as people made their way home.
Nina reached her mother’s dwelling and bounded up the s
tairs. She couldn’t wait to see her mother again, and she knocked lightly and rapidly on the door, hoping her mother was home. She was. When she opened the door, her face was shiny, and welcoming. As Nina entered, her mother nodded to a pleasant-looking man, who seemed to be in his fifties, seated gingerly at the kitchen table. “This is Dr. Tang from my hospital.”
“How do you do?” Nina greeted him.
The man’s handshake was firm. “I dropped by for a brief visit with your mother,” he said gently. His voice was soft and his eyes, almost black they were so dark, and kind. Then he smiled at Nina’s mother and turning to leave, he said, “Nina needs a rest after her long trip. I will see you again soon.”
Her mother saw him to the door. When she turned around, she blushed at Nina’s smiling eyes.
“You’ve made a great choice,” said Nina.
“This is his first visit,” Nina’s mother said, her cheeks still pink. “We’re just friends, nothing else.”
“Mother, it is wonderful that you are seeing someone after all these years,” Nina said with enthusiasm. “Is he available?”
She sighed. “His wife died last year from illness. His two dispatched kids just came back from the countryside. They’re still looking for jobs,” her mother said, going into the kitchen to throw together a meal.
“Is he interested in you?” asked Nina, who enjoyed playing at the role of mother.
“Yes, but if he married me, it would be harder for his children to find jobs.”
“Do you mean because of my father’s suicide?” Nina asked.
“Yes, for that reason, as well as for others. Your father has stains on his record. As you know, he graduated from West Point and he was an officer with the Nationalist Army. Such stains affect all his relatives.” Nina’s mother took a breath, and her hand reached out to hold Nina’s. “Never think about coming back to China permanently. If you lived here, I’m sure you would never have a normal life.”