The April 3rd Incident

by Yu Hua

  10

  If last night’s imaginings were to be fulfilled, he would see Bai Xue here again today. This time she would give no clear signal. She would walk past him as though he weren’t there and not even look at him. But that too would be a signal. So, pretending to be out for a stroll, he would follow close on her heels. What would happen next he had not been able to imagine.

  The girl standing behind the writing supplies counter had long hair that fell to her shoulders. She was looking at him as if spellbound.

  Zhu Qiao had disappeared all of a sudden, as though in a jump cut in a movie, and now he found himself in a very suspect environment. He noticed the girl’s look only after he had turned in her direction.

  Because he had turned around so quickly, the girl appeared to have been taken by surprise. First she tensely shifted her gaze, then turned her back to him and began to count ink bottles and coloring boxes as though checking the inventory.

  He hadn’t expected that people would monitor him also from behind his back, and he felt a tremor of alarm. But she was different from the others, after all, for she seemed panic-stricken when discovered, whereas they were able to feign complete innocence.

  He moved slowly toward her. She kept on checking her inventory, but she could sense that he was standing next to her—she could hear him breathing. So she seemed all the more nervous and her shoulders began to quiver. She tried to avoid him, moving off to one side, her back to him.

  Now he spoke up, in a voice both firm and calm. “Why are you watching me?” he asked.

  She froze, and her shoulders trembled acutely.

  “Answer me,” he said. But his tone was cordial.

  She hesitated a moment, then turned around and said bleakly, “They made me do it.”

  “I know.” He nodded. “But why do they want to monitor me?”

  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She looked around fearfully.

  Without even checking, he knew that everyone in the shop was now looking at her threateningly.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured.

  She hesitated a moment, then summoned her courage to say, “I’ll tell you.”

  He stood at the entrance to the shop and watched her intently. She kept on doing the inventory for quite some time before turning around, but when she realized he was still looking at her, she at once became flustered. This time she did not turn her back to him, but moved to the other end of the counter. She was no longer in his line of vision and all he saw were neat rows of ink bottles and coloring boxes.

  He thought about whether or not to go back in, march up to her, and conduct the kind of conversation he had just imagined. But he lacked the sangfroid that he had possessed in his mock situation, and she clearly was not as gentle and kindhearted as the girl in his hypothesis. For this reason he lacked confidence in the outcome of a conversation that would be absolutely real and would lack even the slightest imaginative coloring.

  He stood indecisively at the entrance, as chaotic footsteps sounded behind him. He could vividly imagine the look in the eyes of those people tailing him. At this moment he had his back to them, and they would be free to watch him without the least scruple and even gesture to one another. But, he thought, if he suddenly turned around, they would be taken completely by surprise. He was pleased with himself for hitting on this plan, and immediately put it into action.

  But when he turned around, he did not achieve the anticipated effect. A quick survey of the surrounding scene failed to uncover anyone watching him. They had read his mind, and this he found infuriating. They’re getting more cunning, he thought.

  But Bai Xue did appear.

  According to his imagined scenario, Bai Xue would come ambling along the street (from either direction). But now Bai Xue was coming over the bridge. Although the particulars differed, his overall projection had again proved correct.

  As Bai Xue came down the bridge, she did not look his way. But he knew she had seen him, and he knew that she knew he had seen her. When she did not look his way, it was so as to avoid notice. She sauntered down the bridge very coolly and then walked off in the opposite direction from him. Bai Xue’s casualness impressed him deeply, and he began to follow her.

  Bai Xue stood out conspicuously among the pedestrians because she was wearing a bright red corduroy jacket. He knew there was something significant about her choice of attire and he appreciated her attention to detail. But immediately he realized that it was silly of him to stare at her, because that could so easily give him away.

  11

  He had to think hard before he could recall the exchange between his mother and the neighbor on the balcony the previous afternoon.

  “Are you pretty much all ready now?” she had asked.

  “How about you?” was the rejoinder.

  Just now, while still a little way from home, he could see a boy lying on the neighbors’ balcony and gazing at the street below. At the same time he saw that the door to his own balcony was open, so he concluded that his parents were home. As soon as the boy saw him, he turned around and ran indoors. At first he did not give any thought to that, but when he got to the foot of the stairs and was about to go up, he saw the boy a second time, and this time he was pointing a toy pistol at him. Then, in a flash, the boy darted into his apartment and the door slammed with a bang.

  It was only when he got home that he realized his parents were not there. He looked carefully in all the rooms, and on the easy chair in his parents’ bedroom he saw a nylon shopping bag. Without question, his parents had come back, because at lunchtime he had seen his mother go out with that bag. He remembered that his father had asked, “What do you need that for?” He couldn’t remember now how his mother answered. But that wasn’t important—what mattered was that he had verified that his parents had returned before he did.

  What required consideration now was where his parents had gone. He could not help thinking of that highly suspicious knocking on the door by the middle-aged man. For this reason the neighbors next door also seemed to him highly suspicious. And even their child gave him cause to be wary. Although the boy was only six years old, he was just as sneaky as a grown-up.

  It was obvious that his parents were next door. Now, when he closed his eyes, he could picture them sitting with the neighbors and discussing things.

  “Are you pretty much all ready now?”

  “How about you?”

  (What was worth noting was that they were preparing something. He could feel a twinge of foreboding, but could not imagine the particulars.)

  The boy had been sent onto the balcony to observe whether or not he was on his way back. Later the boy had appeared at the doorway, and when he started going upstairs the boy had slammed the door. This noise had to be significant: it would tell them that he was on his way up.

  He knew what he had to do now. He had to verify this hypothesis. And the means of verification were simple: he just needed to open the door, stand in the doorway, and keep his eyes fixed on the door opposite.

  His glance would not be the timid glance of before—his glance would make it clear that he had seen through their scheme. And so, when his parents emerged, they would be totally taken aback.

  They would expect the door to be closed and him to be inside. So they’d put on a show of being at ease, as if they had just come up the stairs, unaware he was standing in the doorway.

  First they’d be astonished, and then embarrassed, because it was all so sudden and they hadn’t sufficient time to prepare a cover-up. Sure, they’d be quick to assume a relaxed posture, but there was no way they could mask their discomfiture.

  12

  The red jacket maintained such a steady distance from him—always twenty meters ahead—it was as though it were not really moving. This was because Bai Xue walked with such even step
s.

  Bai Xue continued along the same street, and that was dangerous, because he was more and more conscious that the bystanders were paying attention to them. He had observed that several people passed right next to Bai Xue, only to turn back to look at her, and then, as though noticing something, they took a look at him too. After he brushed past them, he felt as though they took a few steps and then seemed to turn round and follow him. He did not turn his head—at this time he must absolutely avoid doing that. Just hearing footsteps close behind told him all he needed to know. There was no longer a clear pattern to the footsteps, which showed there were all the more people shadowing him.

  But Bai Xue kept on walking along the street. He knew exactly how far this street extended, and was aware that before long it would peter out into a dirt road. The dirt road, which skirted a river on one side and open land on the other, led eventually to the crematorium, whose tall chimney gave one the feeling that the long, spindly dirt road was now suddenly standing erect.

  Bai Xue had not yet gotten to the start of the dirt road, but she wasn’t that far away. She hesitated at the entry to several alleys, but carried on straight ahead. Only he could sense that hesitation of hers. Clearly she had noticed she was being watched.

  Just at this moment Bai Xue came to a stop. If she didn’t stop now, she would miss the chance altogether, because she was nearing the end of the street. Bai Xue entered a shop, a little convenience store that stocked the same items as all the shops she had already passed. It was obvious that making a purchase was not her aim.

  He slowed his pace, knowing there was an alley about ten meters on this side of the shop, a very narrow alley. He moved forward cautiously. There seemed to be fewer people in the street now. He observed that up ahead only two people were watching him: one walking toward him, the other standing by the door of a waste recycling depot.

  As he passed the shop, he did not look inside, but he began to feel that the footsteps following him had dwindled in number, and when he reached the alley he heard no footsteps at all. Bai Xue’s ruse had worked perfectly, he thought. But the man outside the recycling depot was still looking at him.

  He slipped into the alley.

  Here the sunlight was blocked by the high walls on both sides, and no sooner had he stepped inside than he was hit by a wave of clammy air. The passageway ran straight and long, like a path through a dense forest. He walked on quietly, into the depths of the alley. At intervals on both sides there appeared still smaller alleys, so narrow they could accommodate only a single person, and they were quiet and empty. The alley was a full hundred meters in length. He walked all the way to the end before turning around, and from that distance the alley entrance looked like a narrow slit. Seeing no one, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, because that meant that for the time being nobody was watching him. He stood waiting for Bai Xue to appear.

  Before long Bai Xue completed a graceful turn and entered through the slit. As he watched, the bright red jacket turned a darker red. Bai Xue strolled casually, with footsteps as enchanting as the sound of water drops hitting the ground. There was brightness behind her, and so as she walked toward him her body was bathed in light.

  All of this was consistent with his projection, and now he knew everything that would happen next.

  But at that moment two people suddenly entered from a side alley and walked shoulder to shoulder toward the street. Their bodies blocked his view of Bai Xue.

  What shocked him was that one of them was his father, and the other seemed to be the man who had leaned against the plane tree, smoking. Walking with their backs to him, they did not notice him. They were discussing something, and though they kept their voices low he could hear a snatch of their conversation.

  “What day?” It had to be the middle-aged man who asked this.

  “April Third,” his father replied.

  He could not catch anything else they said. As they proceeded forward, the two silhouettes slowly contracted and the slit slowly expanded, but still they blocked his view of Bai Xue. Their footsteps were very loud, as though they were banging on a table with their hands. Then they reached the slit and went separate ways, his father to the right, the other man to the left.

  But he did not see Bai Xue.

  13

  His parents, it turned out, came up the stairs. He knew it was them as soon as he heard their footsteps.

  Without a doubt, when he went into the apartment, they had come out of the door opposite and quietly gone downstairs. Otherwise the boy’s slamming of the door would have lost its significance. And so, when he was standing in the doorway, his parents were already downstairs.

  Now they were coming upstairs (they had much more experience than he did, after all). He saw how they looked at him in surprise, but it wasn’t the kind of surprise he had been expecting.

  “What are you doing standing in the doorway?”

  His father’s mouth had moved, and this sound emerged from inside. Then two human figures came to a halt in front of him. He noticed that the buttons on his father’s jacket were different from those on his mother’s.

  “What’s the matter?”

  It was his mother’s voice, different from the first one. It was like cotton.

  Suddenly he felt he was blocking his parents’ path, and so he hurriedly moved to one side. Now he noticed that his parents exchanged a look, a look that was rich with meaning. They said nothing more, and after entering the apartment they each went their own way, his mother to the kitchen, his father to the bedroom.

  But he didn’t know what to do: he would seem so clueless just standing there. It dawned on him that there was something foolish about his stance just now, because his parents must have known what was on his mind.

  His father emerged from the bedroom and walked toward the kitchen. Halfway there he stopped and said, “Close the door.”

  He put out his hand and closed the door, listening as that simple sound rapidly disappeared.

  A moment or two after his father entered the kitchen he said something else: “Take out the trash.”

  As he picked up the dustpan he gave a sigh of relief: he no longer felt quite so helpless. He opened the door to find the neighbors’ son standing on the landing, toy pistol in hand. Cockily, the boy aimed the gun at him. He knew why the boy was so pleased with himself, even at such a tender age.

  He stepped forward and grabbed the boy’s weapon. “My parents were over at your place just now, weren’t they?” he asked.

  The boy wasn’t the least bit afraid. With a quick tug he grabbed the gun back, at the same time shouting, “No, they weren’t.”

  So, even the kid’s well trained, he thought.

  14

  He stood there for a long time, his eyes on the slit, as though he were at the bottom of a deep well and watching its mouth. Occasionally someone slipped past the entry to the alley, like a large bird sailing over the well with a flap of its wings.

  He proceeded forward with caution, and the sound of his footsteps bounced off the walls and tapped against his toes. Peering down the side alleys, he found they were all equally empty of people. As he reached the fourth side alley he saw a utility pole in front of him and realized he was now very close to where Hansheng lived.

  Entering the side alley, one found oneself on an untidy, ramshackle path that sloped slightly upward. At the fourth door there was no need to knock—one could simply push the door open, revealing a small courtyard, its four corners swathed in moss. Then one followed a dark, unpaved passageway, skirting a small water-filled pit, to reach Hansheng’s door.

  Hansheng’s house was much like Zhang Liang’s, and so the scene in which they were hiding in the room and whispering to one another vividly came to mind.

  What now needed serious consideration was this: At what point could Bai X
ue have disappeared? But to follow this thought to its logical conclusion would only heighten his unease. Because he felt she had disappeared right here. Moreover—if he continued to pursue this line of thought—she would have come to a stop outside the fourth door, would have pushed the door open and walked along the dark passageway. So Bai Xue should be sitting in Hansheng’s house right now.

  He felt that this premise must be very close to reality, and so his disquiet grew all the more real. At the same time it made him take a first step toward Hansheng’s home. What he needed now was not imagination, but verification. He came to a stop outside the fourth door.

  Soon he had skirted that sinister pit and was knocking on the crude door. Before he did that, he conducted a manual inspection. There were no nails on Hansheng’s door. So he could knock on it without any qualms.

  The door opened quickly, but just a crack. Then Hansheng’s head appeared in the opening. It was motionless, as though suspended in the air.

  Light from the room spilled out and there was a strange look in Hansheng’s eyes. He heard Hansheng ask tensely, “Who is it?”

  He hesitated. “It’s me,” he answered.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Only now did the door open fully.

  Hansheng’s voice took him off guard, because he had not planned on hearing such a loud voice.

  He did not find Bai Xue in the room. But as he entered, he seemed to catch a whiff of scent. He couldn’t tell if it came from a girl’s hair or from a girl’s face, but he was certain it came from a girl. He thought Bai Xue had maybe already left, but immediately he ruled this out. If she had left, she would have had to go back the way she’d come, but he had not seen her.

  Hansheng led him to his room, which was spotlessly clean. He didn’t let him see the other two rooms. The door to one of the rooms was open, and the door to the other was tightly closed.