Remembering 1942

by Liu Zhenyun

  His wife stopped pestering him at home. The whole process felt like a gunshot wound that healed by itself as time went by. She turned her back to him in bed, but he didn’t mind that, as long as there was peace and quiet. In any case, their family life resumed its natural rhythm. He did, however, feel bad when he heard about Qiao’s early retirement.

  “It’s my fault,” he said with a private sigh.

  With his guilty conscience, he treated the people who worked for him more considerately. But the women were hard to please; they avoided him, almost as if anyone who had contact with him would be corrupted. Even the girl who delivered documents scurried off the moment she dropped a file on his desk, no longer stopping to chat.

  “What a bunch of hypocrites!” He was irate. “Like I’d screw any woman who came into sight!”

  About ten days later there were developments at the section office. The bureau announced that Lao He would be promoted to deputy section chief. Obviously thrilled, he wore a big smile all day long and could not stop taking off his glasses to wipe the lenses. Sun did not fare so well; he was still a deputy section chief. Sun should have been on the promotion list and felt he’d had a good shot at it, since he’d worked on all the important people. But he’d been passed over, wasting months of hard work. It came as a big blow, and he felt terrible. Worse yet, the newly promoted He could not hide his joy, the sight of which irritated Sun even more. After forming an alliance with He, Sun had helped him with all the necessary maneuvering and yet He, not Sun, had been promoted in the end. Mulling it over, Sun looked for a reason why he’d been passed over; ultimately, he blamed Lao Zhang. Sun was sure he’d been on the list until Lao Zhang came back to work, and must have read the documents supplied by He. He decided to avenge himself by bypassing Zhang. To him, the punishment the bureau meted out to Zhang was too light. As a deputy bureau chief, he should have been working in his office instead of using the place for personal pleasure. And yet all he received was a warning. That wasn’t nearly tough enough. That in itself was a terrible practice, and was the cause of his suffering a vengeful slight.

  In fact, Lao Sun was wrong—his being passed over had nothing to do with Lao Zhang; it was the administrative affairs chief who stopped the promotion. The bureau had planned for Sun to be the section head and He his deputy. While they were drawing up the document, the administrative affairs chief came to their office while they were denouncing Zhang and Qiao. On that day, Sun was outspoken, filled with indignation, nearly foaming at the mouth, which left a negative impression on the administrative chief. It was important to expose problems, but it was not necessary to go overboard. He went back and reported to Xiong, with the recommendation that they promote only He this time and “table” Sun so they could observe his work performance. Following the suggestion, Xiong brought up the case for discussion at the bureau meeting. Zhang, who had returned to work, was present but said nothing damaging to Sun. As a matter of fact, after his recent setback, he had decided to act with a clear conscience and endorse Sun for promotion. Zhang even praised him as highly competent; even though he’d heard how eagerly Sun had denounced him, he brushed it off as part of a difficult task facing every comrade. With someone speaking up on Sun’s behalf at the bureau meeting, Sun should have been promoted despite the objection of the administrative affairs chief. But the issue was complicated by the very fact that his advocate was Zhang, not anyone else. In the others’ view, Zhang himself had committed a transgression and should not consider himself their equal, which he completely understood and tried to conform to their expectations by being humble. But when he spoke up at the meeting, he sounded like their equal again, and that made everyone unhappy.

  “Table him!” someone said.

  “Use your head, not your heart, Lao Zhang. We must be cautious when promoting a cadre. We cannot demote him later. We’ve learned our lesson.”

  “Let’s observe him for a while.”

  And just like that, Sun was “tabled” for further observation, to ensure a flawless promotion. In the end, he would have fared better had Zhang not spoken up for him. Naturally, Sun knew nothing about what transpired at the meeting, and was convinced that Zhang had been the spoiler. He fumed; there were times when he was able to see that it was just an official position, not worth getting upset over, but he simply could not get past the fact that he was as capable as the next man and yet had been stabbed in the back. He was more or less able to accept the outcome when he wasn’t at work, but could not stomach the sight of a beaming He, his shallow colleague and former ally. Soon the anger, disappointment, and resentment piled up to affect his health and caused liver problems that put him in the hospital.

  With Qiao retired and Sun on sick leave, Lao He took charge at the office, which was little more than supervising Lin and Peng, the only two left. But he was content with that, even opened his heart to his junior colleagues.

  “There are only the three of us now, but our section will look as good as the others if we work hard. Numbers don’t mean a thing. More people doesn’t mean greater strength.”

  After his promotion, Lao He was among those who received a new housing assignment at the end of the year. He would be moving from Niujie to a two-room unit in a building by You’anmen. The nonstop good news had the tall, slight man squatting down in the office and sobbing, wetting his new lenses in the process. He blurted out to Xiao Lin, the only other person around, “Don’t worry, Xiao Lin. I’m not the type to forget former colleagues after a promotion. Rest assured of that. This is not the office where Lao Qiao used to work, and there will be no more delay of your party membership. I’ll fight for you at the next group meeting.”

  It had been a long time since Lin had received any good news of his own, so he was naturally happy to hear this.

  “We’ve worked together for several years now, Lao He, and we know each other well. You haven’t changed a bit since your promotion. I’ll work hard and do my job well so you’ll be proud of me.”

  They talked on like bosom pals. After work, when Lao He bought a roast chicken to celebrate with his family. So did Lin. But his wife was unhappy when she saw the chicken, a waste of money. When he excitedly related the good news, she grumbled, “Still, there’s no need to buy a roast chicken. Is party membership worth that much? A sausage would have been enough!”

  11

  It was New Year’s Day. Another truckload of pears was delivered from Zhangjiakou for everyone in the building. This time the truck did not break down, and the fruit was in fine shape. Once again, straw littered the area around the building. And once again Lao He and Xiao Lin brought the pears into the section office before borrowing a scale to divide them up and searching for containers to transport the fruit home. The pears were so nice they all wanted to take them home, which meant fewer discarded skins for Lin to sweep up.

  Lao Sun was discharged from the hospital, but was still in poor shape, with a sallow face. He was often seen smoking quietly by himself, and turned over most of the office work to Lao He, who ran up and down the stairs to carry out his duties. But sometimes his eagerness was misapplied, leading to mistakes. Once, when the bureau asked their section to draft a document, Lao He decided to do it himself. He handed in more than thirty pages, for which Xiong rewarded him with the comment, “Wide of the mark.” Xiong even went so far as to summon the administrative affairs chief, demanding to know how someone like that could have been promoted. The section chief was so nervous he began to sweat, eventually admitting that a mistake had been made. But now that He had been promoted and had already moved into the two-room unit, it would be hard to demote him. Xiong decided to let it go.

  “Be careful next time,” was all he could say.

  The bureau wanted Sun to take charge of office operations, but he refused, unable to get over the fact that he was passed over, which convinced the higher-ups in the bureau that this particular section office could use a stronger leader. Sun, who began to act up after being “tabled,” was definitely not
the right person for the job. They decided to send a section head from outside when the time was right, news that Sun greeted with even less enthusiasm. He started to slack off at work, sometimes arriving late and leaving early, leaving his desk a mess and covered with dust. He appeared to have given up, the same immature behavior Xiao Lin had adopted when he first came to work, and that thrilled the chief of administrative affairs. He might have been wrong to promote Lao He, but at least he made the right decision not to promote Lao Sun, who was petty and buckled too easily under pressure. If Sun had been given the job of section head, Xiong would likely have criticized him again, he told himself.

  Xiao Lin, on the other hand, was doing well. Lao He did work hard on his behalf and brought up his membership at a branch meeting, after promising to help with Lin’s application. But no one at the meeting thought much of Lao He, despite his recent promotion, owing to his tendency to be long-winded and somewhat effeminate. As his words carried little weight and, with Lao Sun still hospitalized, Lao He had been Lin’s sole advocate, so no one gave much thought to his application. On the contrary, party members from the other sections made strong cases for their own colleagues, and in the end Lin was not among those whose applications were accepted.

  He was, to be sure, dejected over the news, but that only lasted a few days before something good came his way. After Lao He and his family moved into the two-room unit, his old place on Niujie was vacant, and no one wanted to move in, because it was so remote. After a prolonged deliberation, Lin was given the place. He was overjoyed, even happier than he’d have been with a party membership. To him, the whole point of becoming a party member was a promotion that would make his life easier, not something ideologically lofty. The new place was on Niujie and not spacious, but it would be their own, not shared with the shrew. He wasn’t sure if it would meet his wife’s expectations, so he went home bearing good news, but with apprehension. In light of her complaint the previous time, he bought only a sausage to celebrate. To his delight, his wife was happy about the change.

  “Niujie is good. It’s great. I love the mutton there. Besides, I’d happily move to a dump so long as I didn’t have to be around that shrew.”

  Then she demanded to know why he hadn’t bought a roast chicken.

  “You gave me hell for buying a roast chicken last time.”

  “That was for party membership. We deserve a chicken this time.”

  Which was why Lin had been feeling better than others.

  As for Xiao Peng, she changed little. After Lao Qiao’s early retirement, her life was better, now that her antagonist was gone, and she was often seen knitting sweaters in the office. Yet someone like her could not live without an antagonist for long. Being the newly promoted deputy section head, Lao He showed great enthusiasm in everything, frequently telling Peng to do this or that, and he became her antagonist after a while, frequently confronting him with choice words. Luckily Lao He was a softie who could deal with people who were submissive, but not get angry with anyone who dared talk back. In fact, he would brood over how that person felt, and as a result, they got along fine.

  Lao Zhang continued to be chauffeured back and forth to work. After two months, bored with talk of the incident with Lao Qiao, people resumed their former relationship with him. The girls, too, were no longer intimidated. As for Zhang himself, he finally managed to put the tough, obsequious days behind him, and his wife not only stopped railing at him, but even joked about the incident occasionally. When he met other residents, he began to feel like their equal again and greeted them that way; he banged his car door as loud as ever. Once he ran into Lao Sun in the men’s room at work. The partition between the two stalls had been taken down for repair, so they squatted in the same open space, a trying experience for them both. Sun recalled all his unhappy experiences with Zhang, while Zhang, after the baptism of his recent setback, could be forthright enough to break down the barrier between them. Knowing that Sun was resentful over the failed promotion, he said, “I want to say something to you, Lao Sun.”

  “Sure, go ahead.” Sun knew he couldn’t turn him down.

  “You’re a terrific comrade in every aspect but one, and that is the ability to get through hard times. Learning that would give you a boost.”

  Lao Sun held his tongue, but as he was walking out the door, he really let Lao Zhang have it: “You’ve got the heart of a beast. How dare you criticize me when you were involved in a sex scandal!”

  He followed that up with a complaint about an unfair world. After committing such a major offense, Zhang not only suffered no disciplinary action, but was even allowed to remain in his position during the immediate aftermath of his error. As for Sun himself, though he’d worked hard for the party, he was dismissed like a rider thrown from his horse. How could they expect him to be proactive?

  The pears were parceled out on the morning of the thirtieth, followed by a section luncheon. They ate in low spirits. Sun said nothing, while Xiao Peng busied herself with her knitting. Xiao Lin had his eye on the basket, which would be perfect for moving. Lao He tried to try to liven the mood by telling jokes. But he was so bad at it that no one laughed, which only made the atmosphere worse. They hastily finished their lunch and picked up their pears to head home.

  Lin was the last to leave the office, wanting to wait for the basket. When he came downstairs, he ran into Lao Qiao, whose appearance in the office came as a surprise. She’d lost weight over the past few months, and there were bags under her eyes. Although she’d been the roadblock to his application to the party and had found fault with him whenever possible, Lin thought he ought to be nice to her now after what he’d said. In fact, he felt guilty when he noticed how thin she’d gotten, so he went up to greet her.

  “You’re back, Lao Qiao.”

  She was just as surprised to see him and was touched when he came up to talk to her. She had indeed tried to block his application, but he hadn’t let that bother him. He wasn’t so bad (a while earlier she’d run into Peng, who looked surprised but didn’t say a word to her).

  “Off work, Xiao Lin?”

  “Yes. You’re not busy today, I see.”

  “No, I’m free all day. Say, Xiao Lin, I won’t be living in Beijing starting tomorrow.”

  “Really? Where are you going to live?”

  “I’m moving to Shijiazhuang with my husband. I thought I’d come take another look at this place before I leave town. I started working here at the age of twenty-two, and before I leave I want to have one more look at the office where I spent thirty-two years of my life.”

  Lin knew what she meant and it make him feel bad. He wanted to say something to her, but the bus was about to take off, so he hurried off with a bag of pears in one hand and a basket in the other.

  “So long, Lao Qiao.”

  “So long.”

  Officials

  1

  The eight county party secretaries were on their own when they came to a meeting in the provincial capital, like an ordinary production team leader coming to town from the countryside. They slept four to a room, and had to line up to buy food in the massive dining hall. They had all they could take of it after three days.

  “Damn it. We wine and dine them when they come to our counties,” Lao Zhou of Pi County complained. “But they make us eat out of the same pot when we come for a meeting.”

  “You said it!” The others agreed.

  A discussion followed about eating out that night, but that involved the question of who would pay.

  “Let’s draw lots,” someone suggested.

  Lao Hu, a fair-skinned man from Nanxian County, sprawled on his bed to make four batches of lots, one each for liquor, vegetables, pork noodles, and egg drop soup. The idea was to have them draw lots from the four batches, so they’d each pay for one item, which seemed fair. But Jin Quanli of Chungong County would up with all four. Amid cheers from the other three, he tossed the lots out the window.

  “That doesn’t count,” he said.
“Let’s do it again.”

  They ignored his protest and walked out with him.

  “Of course it counts,” Lao Bai from Wujiang County said. “It was just your luck. You’d have gotten a free meal if you hadn’t drawn any lots, so with all four in your hand, you pay.”

  It was ten o’clock by the time they left the restaurant. They were arguing about whether the liquor was “up to par” when they spotted someone standing in the guesthouse entrance. It was Lu Hongwu, the district party secretary who headed their delegation.

  “Where have you been?”

  “We were dying for a decent meal, so we went to a restaurant, Mr. Lu.”

  Lao Zhou, from Pi County, took out a paper bag.

  “Here, some leftover chicken giblets for you.”

  Lu laughed and said as he munched on the giblets:

  “I couldn’t find any of you when Director Shen of the Provincial party Organization Department wanted to talk to you.”

  They sobered up at the mention of Director Shen. They washed their feet and climbed into bed, but couldn’t sleep that night. County secretaries were intimidated by the organization director, the way a production brigade branch secretary was cowed by a county secretary. Their future was in his hands. The position of deputy commissioner was vacant and they’d heard that it would likely be filled by one of the secretaries from the eight counties, though no one knew which. They had all undergone reviews recently, and since the director wanted to talk to them, maybe there was news. They’d been drinking together earlier; now one of them might be on the verge of a promotion. That was the only thing on their minds, and it drove away all thoughts of sleep. Zhou kept going out to use the toilet, while Bai couldn’t stop spitting out the window. The next morning they got out of bed with dark circles under their eyes, and acted awkwardly with each other when they went out to wash up.