by Zoë S. Roy
A class photo that accompanied the essay rang a bell. Is this photo the one I found twenty years ago? She wondered as she examined the young faces and recognized her mother among them. Margaret Bliss’s story helped uncover the mystery of her mother’s family. Sha finally understood why her mother had that graduation photo and metal cross as keepsakes. She felt proud of her mother and sorrow for her confused youth during the Cultural Revolution.
Returning the copy of the missionary monthly to the service desk, she asked for Margaret Bliss’s address.
The archivist located the information and said, “Margaret Bliss never married and doesn’t have any immediate family members. In 1983 she moved into a nursing home in Montreal.”
Sha thanked the archivist and copied down the address hoping that Margaret would remember her mother and could tell Sha more about her mother’s past.
Back in her apartment, she wrote to Margaret Bliss asking to meet with her and mailed the letter.
She checked her mailbox everyday after that. Nine days later, her letter returned with a notice attached to the envelope: “Deceased.”
***
At the end of August, Sha rode a train to Montreal. From the train station she got on a bus that took her out to a cemetery in the suburbs. The gate had a board on which the words, “The United Church,” were carved. Sha wanted to pay respect to the woman who had taught and influenced her mother.
The lawn was bright green and birds twittered in the trees. Colourful flowers or wreaths were placed in front of the many crosses and headstones in the cemetery. Sha examined the words on each headstone as she strolled. The breeze blew the scent of freshly cut grass. With a deep breath, she seemed back in the open field where she had come across that ancient tomb. Sha envisioned her own little figure in the wild twenty years earlier.
At last, she located Margaret Bliss’s grave. She laid a bunch of red roses by Margaret’s headstone. Her words on a white ribbon read: “To Margaret Bliss, teacher of Shuzhen Feng. From Feng’s daughter, Sha.” She read the inscription on the stone again:
Margaret Bliss
Born on May 2, 1904
Back in the Lord’s Hands on June 23, 1986
In Chongqing City of China, 1930-1952, for the Lord
She stood motionless. The broken tombstone in the field near Red Rock Middle School reappeared in front of her. She wondered if the nun’s damaged tombstone had been repaired after the Cultural Revolution ended. The tiny cross buried in the memory of her childhood glittered in the sunlight. Suddenly, the aroma of wild onions wafted into her nostrils.
Yearning
LIKE A THICK CURTAIN, the dusk concealed the quiet fields of the military farm near Jihong County, Yunnan Province, China. The hot air of an August evening clung to the barb-wired fields. Rusted iron posts stood alongside the trees and bushes, outlining a path that sprawled to the faraway woods. Under a massive fir tree, a young man and woman, both about twenty years old, silently stood.
“Nina, why don’t you say something?”
The girl bit her lip. “What else can I say?” She jerked her head upward, looking him in the eyes. “Hai, do you love me?”
“Yes, but I can’t go with you.” Hai’s hand fanned mosquitoes away from Nina’s face. “Love isn’t everything. I must go to Vietnam. I don’t think it’s right to sneak across the border to Hong Kong.”
“You have to sneak across the border to Vietnam, too.” Nina grasped Hai’s hand. “But I wouldn’t join the Vietcong. Think twice. I’m afraid you’ll regret it.”
“I want to be recognized as a revolutionary,” said Hai. “It’s that simple.”
“And I can’t live under the repression of the Cultural Revolution anymore. The land across the Pacific Ocean means freedom to me,” said Nina, her hands on his chest, her eyes imploring him to change his mind.
“Maybe both of us are wrong. Who knows?” Hai’s eyes locked with Nina’s, and a twinge of sadness pierced his heart. Pulling Nina gently toward him, he embraced her. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’ve thought it over and I can’t follow the path my parents took before me. They’re enemies of the Communist Party, but I believe in communism. It’s wrong to say that ‘a hero father raises a revolutionary son, and a reactionary father raises an anti-revolutionary bastard.’ Even though my parents are anti-revolutionaries, I am not. I need to prove that I’m a revolutionary, and the only way I can do this is to join the Vietcong in an anti-American war.”
“You’re so headstrong.” Nina quavered and withdrew herself from his arms. “What’s the use of proving yourself different from your parents? Nobody treats us like human beings because of our family backgrounds. Since the Cultural Revolution, we have simply been branded as evil.” She shook her shorthaired head. “We’ve tried hard to remould ourselves here. But because of our family backgrounds, we will always be second-class citizens. I’d rather take my chances someplace where I can be free.”
“Right, take your chances.” Hai nodded. “In case …”
“In case what?” Nina stared into his brown eyes.
“If I die, tell my brother and sister my story if you ever see them again.”
“If I die, go find my mother, but don’t say a word about me,” said Nina, irritated.
“Enough, let’s stop.” Hai hesitated, but reached out his arms again to draw Nina close. At the prospect of leaving her, his heart sank into a dark well, but he could not relinquish his plan to go to Vietnam—his only chance to prove himself.
Nina clenched her fists and punched his chest. “I’ll blame you forever,” she sobbed, unable to speak anymore.
Hai held Nina tighter to him. “Forgive me. But we both need to do what we must.”
She stopped weeping. With her hand over his mouth, she cried out, “We deserve a better life. Something’s wrong with this society, not us. I’ll regret it if I don’t try to escape and I’m sorry that you aren’t coming with me. I fear you are making a mistake.” Leaning her head against his chest, Nina was calmed by the beating of his heart against her ear.
A gust of wind wrapped itself around their bodies and they shivered under the darkening sky. The sound of a dog’s barking brought the reality of their future steps closer. Nina remembered she had a meeting with her girlfriend, Dew, to plan for the next day’s trip to Kunming. She whispered to Hai with sudden urgency, “I’ve got to go.”
“You go.” Hai clasped her head with his palms, and his lips covered hers. A favourite phrase of his mother occurred to him, and despite his aversion to it, he repeated it now. “God bless you.”
Nina pulled herself away from him with a muffled “Goodbye.” She hurried away toward the end of the path. When she turned her head, she could just barely distinguish his lanky figure; it looked as if it were engulfed in the darkness.
Watching Nina fade away, Hai almost called out, “Wait! I’ll come with you.” He felt frozen, heartbroken. That he might never see her again in his life was a tangible reality. He covered his eyes with his hands, but could not stop the tears, and they dripped through his fingers. Like a puppet on strings, he shambled back to the hut he shared with twelve other young farm workers.
***
Before lunchtime the following day, Nina gripped a telegram sent by her cousin, Ray, in Guangzhou, and rushed into the head office of the military farm. A middle-aged man sat at a desk, his greying head bent over a newspaper.
“Chairman Yang, may I ask for a personal leave since it’s not the busy season now?”
Yang craned his head away from the paper in his hands. Noticing her puffy eyelids and red-rimmed eyes, he asked, “Nina, what’s wrong?”
“My mother’s been hospitalized.” Nina handed her telegram to him. “Look at this.”
“‘Return home. Mother’s sick.’” Yang read it aloud, scrutinizing the date. “Why don’t you talk to Commissar Zhao?”
&
nbsp; “I did, Sir. He said I needed your permission for a two-week leave, or longer.”
“Well, it looks like you haven’t been home since you came here last year.” Yang looked as if he had something to mull over. Nina prayed that he would not reject her request. She could hardly breathe until he finally agreed. “Okay, but you must be back in three weeks.”
“Thank you so much.” Nina was surprised to find that her hands were trembling.
“Being away from the farm doesn’t mean you can stop reforming your thoughts. Mind your P’s and Q’s and follow Mao’s instructions every day. Can you remember that?”
“Yes, Chairman Yang.” Nina left the office and hurried back to the dormitory while her roommates still worked in the cornfields.
Nina packed her belongings hastily and left the compound before anyone returned from the fields. She carried a worn green canvas handbag over her left shoulder and gripped the handles of a dark blue travel bag with her right hand as she trudged along the road toward Simao County. She narrowed her eyes to shield them from the stark midday sun. The green crops looked like huge rugs blanketing the fields. A profound sadness filled her chest when she thought about Hai. But she did not turn her head; she was afraid she would lose the courage. She could hear herself screaming from the bottom of her heart, “Farewell!”
Nina had walked for about ten minutes when she heard horseshoes tapping behind her. Dew arrived in a horse-drawn wagon just as expected.
“Get in,” said Dew, as she guided the horse to a stop. She reached down to take Nina’s bags and then pulled her up over the side of the wagon.
Nina dropped onto the hard seat. Free from the tension in her shoulders, the exhaustion of a sleepless night fell over her like a darkened tent. The rocking motion of the wagon and clopping rhythm of the horseshoes helped her drift off to sleep.
After a few hours of restless slumber, she finally opened her eyes. Night had fallen. There was no moon, only the silvery light of a star-filled sky. The horse’s snorting reminded her she was in a wagon that had stopped at the roadside.
“Dew?”
“We’re close to Kunming,” said Dew as she handed her an open canister. “Here’s something to eat. I’ve just had something, too.”
“Thanks.” Nina grabbed a steamed bun from the canister. Her growling stomach betrayed her hunger. She wasn’t satisfied until she had gobbled down three buns. After quaffing water from a canteen, she asked, “Do you think your boyfriend will be on duty on today’s train?”
“I’m not sure,” Dew said with a shrug, her bobbed hair springing lightly off her shoulders. “His schedule changes all the time, and you are a couple of days late. I had no way to reach him and let him know you were still coming.”
“I’m sorry, Dew,” said Nina, holding back the tears that unexpectedly clouded her eyes. She had waited to leave, hoping that Hai would change his mind. She couldn’t explain all this to her friend. There wasn’t time. “What do you think I should do? Should I try to find him?”
“Get on the train by yourself at first. Only try to find him if you get caught without a ticket.”
“Okay, I’ll take my chances.” Nina grasped Dew’s hand. “I really appreciate your help and will repay you in the future.”
“Don’t mention it,” Dew said, smiling. “Our moms are old friends so I think of you as my sister. I am glad to help, and I wish you the best.”
The horse-drawn wagon resumed its way toward Western Hill Station. The feeling of leaving her friends forever and facing an uncertain future came flooding back to Nina. She wept like a little girl under night’s curtain.
Finally, Dew parked the wagon near the station in Kunming where a lonesome train whistle broke the quiet of dawn. Nina climbed out of the cart. She rummaged through her handbag and pulled out a package covered in brown paper, which she then placed in Dew’s hand. She had been saving this gift for Dew for a long time, having purchased it months before from a friend who had smuggled some prohibited items into the compound. “This is for you; a silk scarf, to remember me by. Be careful on your way back.”
Dew held back her tears and hugged the package to her chest. “Don’t worry about me. You take care.”
Nina patted Dew’s hand reassuringly, although she herself felt uncertain and afraid. “Goodbye Dew, and thank you,” she said, as she turned and spotted a side entrance to the station under a dim streetlamp where train workers came and went. She headed toward it. Through the station window she could see a man resting his head on a table, clearly asleep. Without hesitation, Nina scampered past the security booth where a whiff of cigarette smoke drifted from the small opening and mingled with the odour of diesel.
When she reached the barren platform, she used her travel bag as a stool, and waited.
The train arrived an hour later. When she boarded it, nobody asked to see her ticket. She could not find anywhere to sit and had to nudge the people in the aisle to reach the end of the car. Wading through car after car, she finally spotted an empty spot near an elderly and kind-looking woman. She squeezed in her luggage and plunked herself on top of it. By the time she settled, many passengers had awakened. Some stretched their arms or legs, and others stumbled across the crowded aisle toward a washroom or the dining car. Nina watched as a few crew members hurried past. She was determined not to ask about Dew’s boyfriend unless she was in a real pinch.
About an hour later, a loudspeaker announced a ticket check, which required the passengers’ co-operation. Nina stood up with her bags and walked hastily into a nearby washroom, locking the door securely behind her. In the stinking room, Nina reached her head up toward the half-ajar window for fresh air. As she waited, she could hear people shuffling, questioning, and arguing. The jumble of noise lasted about fifteen minutes and then receded. Relieved, she left the washroom and returned to her spot.
“I thought you’d gotten a seat somewhere else.” The elderly woman looked up at her, drawing back her legs to leave Nina some space.
“Thank you. I went to the washroom. I have a terrible stomach ache.” She could not reveal the real reason behind her retreat to the washroom.
“A lad got fined fifty yuan for not having a ticket. That’s a lot of money.”
Nina drew a breath. My eight yuan would not have gotten me far. At least she hadn’t needed to call on Dew’s boyfriend, and put him at risk, too.
***
Three days later, Nina slept soundly in a dust-layered room on Lujing Road in Guangzhou City.
In her dream, she was a child again, and her mother sat beside her in bed. Her mother’s warm hand gently caressed Nina’s hair. Before she could look directly into her mother’s face, her childhood faded like a shred of cloud merging into the sky.
She opened her eyes to dust particles dancing in the afternoon sunshine that penetrated the window curtains. She heard a knock on the door and approached it with caution. “Who is it?” she asked.
Nina was relieved when she heard her eighteen-year-old cousin, Ray, answer. He pushed open the door and walked in. “Did you have a good sleep?”
“Yes.”
“What time can we leave?”
“I … I…” Nina stammered. “I want to say goodbye to my mother, but am afraid of getting us into trouble.”
“It’s not a good idea,” Ray said, raising his eyebrows and looking somewhat alarmed. “She might be charged with planning it. It’s better if she knows nothing about it. If we fail, she will see us behind bars.”
“You’re right.” Nina said, reaching for her clothes on the chair next to the bed. Ray turned his eyes away and squatted to arrange his items in the corner.
That evening, Nina and Ray paced back and forth on Yuexiu Street North, gazing up at a building across the street. When Nina finally noticed a blurred figure in the lit window, she drew a deep breath. “I’ve seen my mom. Let’s get going.”
“We should’ve left long ago,” replied Ray.
***
By train, they arrived in Shenzhen where Ray paid his contact to get supplies for their getaway.
At night, with the help of a map, Nina and Ray reached Defence Road in Sha Tau Kok and hid in a ditch nearby. The shore in the distance was invisible in the thickening darkness, but they could hear waves slapping on the beach and smell sea-grass. Time passed at an excruciatingly slow pace, but still they dared not budge until the People’s Liberation Army patrol team left.
Both Ray and Nina had a basketball in a string bag tied to their waists. After crossing Defence Road, they scampered along the shore toward the reef, where they found a boat camouflaged with seaweed. Nina pulled away the seaweed and Ray cut the rope attached to the boat.
As they climbed into the boat, they noticed a blinking light in the sky.
“Be sure your wallet remains tied to your waist.” Ray dipped two oars into the water. “How is your basketball? It will help you float when you’re tired.”
“They’re both in the right place,” answered Nina, sitting across from him at the other end of the boat. Her hands clasped the ball in front of her. Her voice quavered with fear. “What should I do?”
“Keep an eye open for anything suspicious.” Ray propelled the boat smoothly and glided toward the east.
The sky darkened, and the oars creaked occasionally. The sounds of a distant engine soared over the water, and Nina could feel her heart pounding then slow down as she regained control of her edgy nerves.
About twenty minutes later, they could see the faintly-lit sky over the New Territories of Hong Kong.
Suddenly, an engine rumbled from the northeast. Nina’s heart pounded as if it were about to jump into her mouth. “An army patrol boat is coming straight at us,” she gasped. Ray’s arms pulled the oars through the water as fast as they could muster.
The sound of the engine grew louder, indicating that a boat was speeding toward them. “What are we going to do?” asked Nina, panicked.