Rebellion

by Molly Patterson

  When they arrive, Director Wei and Teacher Cao are already seated in plastic chairs at the shallow end of the pool, though they’re both fully clothed. They stand as the rest of them come in through the gates. “Welcome,” Director Wei says. “Take care you don’t fall into the vegetables.” He points to the bamboo baskets, one filled with potatoes and the other with carrots. Later, they will eat dinner in the open courtyard beyond, but for now it is afternoon, and though the sun is hidden behind a scrim of clouds, it’s warm enough for swimming. “Wel-come,” Teacher Cao says in labored English, extending her hand to Rob. “Thanks for inviting me,” he says, and in response she gives a tittering laugh. “I don’t know what he said!” she exclaims, turning her head from side to side.

  Wei Ke and another boy—his cousin, Teacher Cao explains—come running just then, both red-faced, with muddy feet and legs. They were searching for frogs in a rice paddy, Wei Ke says. He looks happy and relaxed. Juanlan has never seen him smile this broadly before. He is fifteen years old, but right now he could be nine or ten. He pulls off his shirt, preparing to dive into the water, but his mother points at a spigot on the side of the building. “Ke’er, you’re filthy! Clean yourself off.” Then she gestures to a row of doors on the opposite wall and explains to the rest of them that they can go change into their suits there, if they want to swim.

  Juanlan is the only woman who has brought her suit. Lulu is too pregnant, and Teacher Cao demurs with a wave of the hand. “My hair,” she explains. “I’ve just had it curled.” But the men are all willing, and by the time Juanlan emerges in her one-piece with a towel wrapped around her shoulders, Director Wei and Rob are already in the water, along with Wei Ke and his cousin. A moment later, Zhuo Ge belly flops into the middle, spraying water all the way over to where the other women sit. “Hao fan!” Lulu cries, frowning at her husband.

  While everyone else is distracted, Juanlan shrugs off her towel. It is an effort not to announce her self-consciousness, revealing herself like this before Rob, before Director Wei and Teacher Cao. She sits on the edge of the deep end and eases herself in. She is not an adept swimmer but wants to avoid walking around to the other end with everyone’s eyes on her. Once submerged, she stays close to the edge and paddles to shallower water. “Your sister is the only brave woman here,” she hears Director Wei say to Zhuo Ge. “The others won’t even come in.” He pauses while his son and nephew do handstands. Then he sweeps his eyes around the pool. “Who’s willing to race me?” He nods to the opposite side. “There and back.”

  Zhuo Ge takes him up on the offer, and at the signal from Teacher Cao, the two men take off. But Zhuo Ge is no swimmer. He flails and sputters in a comic manner, and as Director Wei reaches the other side and turns around, Zhuo Ge is already walking back to the start line, splashing as he goes. “I’ve been finished for ages,” he declares when Director Wei comes up beside him. “Didn’t you see me lap you?”

  Director Wei smiles, thin-lipped. He is proud of his swimming, Juanlan thinks, and wants a real rival to show it off. After a moment, he turns to her, brushing water from his eyes. “Will the foreigner give it a try?”

  “I can ask,” she says doubtfully.

  Rob makes his way to the spot on the wall beside Director Wei, and when Teacher Cao gives the signal, a new race begins. This time it is a real competition, the two men swimming furiously, hands knifing the water. “Jiayou, jiayou,” Juanlan and the others all cry, not saying who they’re cheering for. Though the American is taller, his arms longer, Director Wei keeps up with him until they reach the far wall. Then Rob does a flip and pushes off without lifting his head above the surface. In this way, he gains the lead and finishes a meter or two ahead of Director Wei.

  Wiping the water from his eyes, Rob extends his hand and congratulates the other man on a good race. “You had me until the flip-turn at the other end there,” he says, and looks to Juanlan to explain. Teacher Cao and Zhuo Ge both assure Director Wei that the race was neck-and-neck for the first length of the pool, but he just frowns. “Our foreign friend is a very fine swimmer,” he says curtly. “Faster than I had expected for a man his age.”

  At this, Lulu laughs. “He’s not a grandfather,” she says, and lumbers to her feet. Crossing to the edge of the pool, she squats down on the edge—her legs planted wide apart—and extends an arm. For one nervous moment, Juanlan thinks she is going to pat Rob on the head. His blush says perhaps he expects something similar. Instead, Lulu trails the tips of her fingers in the water. “It’s very cool,” she says to no one in particular. In response, Rob flicks a few drops at her, and with a squeal, she reaches down to splash him back. Everyone watches the two of them, the moment suspended like a balloon.

  Then it bursts, and with almost no sound, Lulu tumbles into the water.

  Ten minutes later, as Juanlan helps her sister-in-law towel off in the changing room, she admonishes her for her carelessness. “You could have been hurt. What if you had hit your stomach on the bottom of the pool, or on the wall?”

  “It’s not like I meant to fall in,” Lulu says with a shrug.

  “Look at you, you shouldn’t even be squatting down in your condition.”

  “Thank you, Ma, I’ll be more careful next time. But you heard what Director Wei said about—”

  At a knock on the door, they both fall silent. “I came to check on you,” Teacher Cao says, stepping inside and pulling the door shut behind her. Her eyes go straight to Lulu standing in her sopping dress, water pooling on the floor beneath her. “We have to get you out of those clothes immediately. You’ll catch a cold.”

  “But I don’t have any others.”

  “Right, you hadn’t planned on falling in, had you?” Teacher Cao cocks her head, thinking. Then her face brightens and she says, “You can wear her clothes for now. You don’t mind wearing your swimsuit through dinner, do you, Juanlan? With a towel wrapped around?” Her eyes move from one to the other, sizing them both up. “It might be a tight fit, but even with your belly, you’re a very petite person, Lulu. It’s a good thing your sister-in-law wore baggy clothes today!”

  Juanlan feels suddenly ill, her body on display like this, comparisons made. She hadn’t thought she was thin, exactly, but it’s embarrassing to be lending clothes to a woman in the last third of her pregnancy. She looks to Lulu for some signal that they will find another solution, but Lulu only yawns and lifts her arms over her head. “Help me off with this, will you?” she says.

  As Teacher Cao peels the dress from Lulu’s body, she talks inexplicably about the village of Tao Xu. “The planned flooding will begin in the spring, so the relocations must be finished by winter,” she explains.

  “What relocations?” Juanlan asks.

  “For the dam. Surely you’ve heard about the Longjia Hydroelectric Project?”

  “Of course,” she mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. For years now, the government has been building this dam. It has been going on for so long that she had forgotten all about it. It’s at last getting close to completion. Some villages will be drowned, and the government is rebuilding those villages farther up the mountain: new buildings, new everything.

  As Lulu tugs on the shorts that Juanlan had been wearing earlier, Teacher Cao rambles on, talking about how the dam will provide power for the whole province, power that will aid Sichuan’s march into the future. What does this matter? Juanlan wonders. What does this have to do with them? But then Teacher Cao comes to the point. “Director Wei has business up there. They’ve got some relics in Tao Xu that might be useful. In fact”—she nods at Juanlan—“he has a favor to ask.”

  “I can’t button them,” Lulu cuts in, referring to the shorts. It’s unclear whether she’s been listening to anything Teacher Cao is saying, but Juanlan is grateful for the interruption.

  “Just leave them unbuttoned,” she says, handing Lulu her shirt.

  “He’s going up there with some members of his danwei tomorrow,” Teacher Cao goes on. “There are some foreign
documents or something of that nature, some writing that was left behind long ago. It would be helpful, he said, to have someone who speaks English.” She pauses before adding, “Your brother is driving them.”

  “Zhuo is driving?” Lulu narrows her eyes. “He didn’t mention it.”

  “Well, they’ll be back by evening.”

  “And what is the foreigner supposed to do? If Juan Mei is gone all day, how will he entertain himself?”

  Teacher Cao taps her fingers on her collarbone. “Why doesn’t he come to our flat?” she says after a moment. “Wei Ke and his cousin can take him out into town.”

  “I could come,” Lulu offers. “I could show him how to get to your place.” She turns to Juanlan, her eyes bright as a bird’s. “That sounds okay, doesn’t it?”

  Juanlan pauses before replying. Lulu is dressed now, and she feels suddenly vulnerable, standing in her swimsuit in the little room. The idea of going out into the courtyard this way, of sitting down to eat across from Director Wei—she shivers, feeling Lulu’s eager expectation and Teacher Cao’s smug confidence turned toward her. The older woman is holding two towels draped over her arm. When Juanlan still doesn’t speak, she steps forward and winds one about her waist. The other she wraps around her shoulders. “There, that’s better,” Teacher Cao says, rubbing her hands up and down Juanlan’s arms over the towel. “Now, what shall we tell Director Wei? Will you help him tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” Juanlan says, nodding. “I’m happy to help.”

  Teacher Cao beams at her as she takes a step back, then another. Glancing from Juanlan to Lulu, she says, “How lovely you are.” But it’s not quite clear which of them she’s talking about.

  22

  Juanlan’s mother does not approve of the trip. “Why do they need you?” she asks, and because the implication is that Juanlan could not possibly be of use, she defends the excursion with more passion than she actually feels.

  “There are some old documents,” she explains, “and they need me to translate them.”

  “What kind of documents?”

  “Something to do with tea.”

  Her mother gives her a doubtful look. “And if you find something interesting, they’re not going to build the dam? Or what?”

  Juanlan lifts her hands. “I don’t know.”

  “Huh. It sounds like a whole lot of nothing to me.” Her mother glances out the hotel door. “Here they are,” she says, nodding at the car pulling up.

  Zhuo Ge and Director Wei are in the front. The back holds two other men, Guo Jun from the mah-jongg night, and another man Juanlan doesn’t recognize. Guo Jun steps out of the car to allow her to slide into the middle seat, and soon they are driving off down the street. The other man introduces himself, but she forgets his name because no sooner is it out of his mouth than the others all tell her to call him Baozi. He is soft and white like a steamed bun, his skin glossy in a slightly sickly way. “And he’s stuffed with cabbage,” Zhuo Ge says. “That’s why he stinks!” The men all laugh and Juanlan smiles, though she is busy trying not to knock her knees against the men beside her as Zhuo Ge turns onto the road out of town, accelerating past the trucks that belch plumes of black smoke.

  She has never been in a car with her brother at the wheel, and she thinks of Lulu with her large belly, glad she isn’t here, getting knocked about. Then she thinks of her sister-in-law meeting up with Rob, taking him over to Director Wei’s flat, and is anxious again.

  There is an odd energy in the car. A feeling of escape. Guo Jun and Baozi are both from the Tourism Department, both junior members, and whenever Director Wei says something, they laugh riotously. Everyone seems jangly and animated, as if they’re headed out on a long journey, leaving behind their regular lives, instead of a day trip for business. Cigarettes are passed around, and the four men each take one. The breeze from the open windows whips the smoke through the car and sucks it outside almost violently.

  Up into the mountains they go, careening through villages where people walking on the road leap out of the way at the sound of their approach. Slow down, Juanlan wants to tell her brother. No one else seems bothered, and so she says nothing. She looks out the window. On one side is a drop-off, and below it the muddy river rushes over the rocks. They’re lucky it hasn’t rained much in the last few days. “The last time we drove up,” Baozi says, “we got caught in a landslide. We played Beat the Landlord for twenty hours and Director Wei won all our money. If they hadn’t gotten the road cleared at last, I would probably have had to throw my wife into the pot.”

  Guo Jun thumps the back of the front passenger’s seat with his knuckles. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Director Wei? Multiple wives.”

  In the side mirror’s reflection, Juanlan catches him smiling.

  “I hear the People’s Congress is debating a new law,” Zhuo Ge puts in, “stating that all department chiefs get to take two wives if they improve their department over a five-year period.”

  “That’s the way to do it,” Guo Jun says. Then he turns to Juanlan. “Don’t you agree?”

  “I don’t think it will work as well for the female department chiefs.”

  Zhuo Ge grins at her approvingly in the rearview mirror: she’s joined in the fun.

  “You can have two husbands,” Director Wei offers, turning to look at her in the backseat.

  “No, thank you. I’m not married yet, but from what I can tell, one is enough.”

  The men all guffaw at her response, and Director Wei turns back around to face the front. But not before meeting her eye and smiling—a smile that she knows is meant only for her.

  They arrive in Tao Xu after three hours of winding road. Juanlan feels ill from motion sickness and cigarette smoke, and when the door opens she slides out like a dropped sheaf of paper. They’ve parked in front of the Tao Xu government building. Before they can enter, a man with a birthmark on his cheek the size and shape of a peanut shell comes out to welcome them. “Director Wei,” he says, clapping one hand in his palm, “how was the drive?”

  “No trouble. The section that got washed out last month looks good.”

  “We had a crew up here right away to get it done.” The man nods at Zhuo Ge, acknowledging his help. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he passes them around.

  “Mayor Hu,” Director Wei says, “this is Policeman Bai Juanzhuo’s sister, Bai Juanlan.”

  “Ah, so you’re our ‘language expert.’” The mayor looks her over quickly. “We’re very glad to have your assistance. Please, everyone, come in.”

  Zhuo Ge begs off; he’s going down to the police station to visit some friends.

  Inside, the mayor and another man, a tense-looking underling, pull a few chairs together around a table. Director Wei takes the opportunity to step close to Juanlan. “I’m very glad you could come today,” he says.

  The air is thin, and her lungs feel too tightly squeezed inside her chest. She takes a shallow breath. “I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be; I will try my best.”

  “You’re very obliging.”

  Mayor Hu calls them over, and they all sit and make small talk while the tense-looking man fixes them tea. Juanlan wants to ask about the documents. She’s not sure how much there will be for her to translate or how difficult the task will be; the paper might be old and faded with antiquated language, or spotted with mold. Beside her, Director Wei smokes three cigarettes, one after another. It is several minutes before Mayor Hu suggests that they go look at the house.

  “What house?” Juanlan asks.

  “Up the mountain,” Director Wei says, as if that is explanation enough.

  The mayor distributes bottles of water as if for a long hike, grabs a few umbrellas, and leads them outside. “We’ve had two days without rain,” he says, glancing up at the sky, “but I don’t think we’ll make it through a third.”

  The air has gotten thicker, and a breeze has picked up. Their destination is only a short distance away, so they walk. They go a few blocks do
wn a small street that runs perpendicular to the river before veering abruptly onto a staircase of rough slabs shoved into the ground. Juanlan slips on one and hits her knee hard on the stone. She gasps, but only the tense man from the office notices. “Are you all right?” he asks. Yes, she says, she’s fine. Using the water from her bottle, she cleans off her bare leg.

  A moment later, Director Wei also loses his footing. In an instant he is down, fallen hard on one hip. The mayor, ahead of him at the front of the line, stops. “I’m fine,” Director Wei says, shaking his head. He bats away the mayor’s offer of help and gets to his feet. One side of his body is covered in mud.

  “I have some clean clothes you can change into,” the mayor says quickly. “Or Ru Dan”—he glances at his underling—“since you’re closer to Director Wei’s size . . .”

  “Of course,” the man says. “I’ll go—”

  Director Wei cuts him off. “There’s no need right now. Please, I want to continue.”

  They make it to the top without further incident. At the end of the staircase is a small house, unremarkable in every way except that its entryway is partly collapsed and part of one wall has fallen in. “As you can see, the building is not in very good condition,” Mayor Hu says apologetically, standing aside to let the others pass.

  Director Wei stops before the entryway, and the rest of them stop, too. There is going to be some preamble before they go further. Down the hill, a thread of smoke rises from a house, and Juanlan considers the distance from there to here. Well over a hundred meters, maybe two. And yet not only that house but this one, too, will be underwater once the flooding begins. She imagines a wall of water advancing steadily down the valley. But no: it will take some time for the water to reach this point, and by then the house with the smoke rising from its chimney will be abandoned; the people will have moved up to the new town currently being built. Who will miss the old Tao Xu? It’s a poor place; most of the houses, the mayor told them, are old and damp and have no indoor plumbing. People will be glad to have new flats to live in.