China Star

by Maurice Medland

  The overweight guard sat squatting on the other side of the tool shed, watching the prisoners, poking the dirt with his bamboo rod. She’d learned the rule for addressing guards by listening to the other prisoners. Even the lowest ranking guard was referred to as “Warden.” She approached Tang with her head lowered in deference.

  “Honorable Warden Tang,” she said in Cantonese. “This lesser person would speak.”

  Four Finger Tang came to his feet with a wary, disgusted look on his face.

  “Insufferable foreigner! I’ve heard the words you speak. Get back with the others.”

  Nothing melted the Chinese like an apology. Elizabeth thought the words would choke her, but she managed to say, “I apologize for my past indiscretions, Warden, and humbly ask to be forgiven.”

  Tang looked at her. “Speak, then, but watch your tongue.”

  “In private, please. It’s a personal matter that one of your great sensitivity would appreciate.”

  Tang hesitated. What trickery was this, his eyes seemed to be saying. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. He looked toward the small corrugated tin shed used for storing tools.

  “Around the corner, then, but no tricks.”

  When they were out of sight of the others, Elizabeth lowered her head in obeisance. “Honorable Warden Tang, this unworthy person would ask a favor. The old woman, the prisoner known as Wei Ling, is not well. She must have more food, or she will die.”

  “What nonsense is this?”

  “Please, just a bowl of rice and some meat or fish.”

  “All prisoners have adequate rations. It’s not possible.”

  Elizabeth locked eyes with the fat guard and reached into her bosom.

  Four Finger Tang recoiled, gaping at Elizabeth’s grimy fingers probing inside her bra. A confused, repulsed look came over his face. He raised his bamboo rod.

  “Foreign devil!”

  Elizabeth retrieved her Rolex and held it out. The late afternoon sun glinted off the diamond-cut bezel. Gold. The universal language. She could see Tang’s eyes going over it.

  “This watch is worth a great deal of money,” Elizabeth said. “At least $2,000 U.S.” She knew that was more than Tang would make in a decade. “It’s yours for a supply of rice, some vegetables, and some meat.”

  Tang lowered his rod. Even the lowliest peasant in China knew the value of a U.S. dollar. He licked his lips and reached for the watch. His missing thumb made his right hand look like a claw.

  Elizabeth snatched it away and stuffed it back inside her bra. Tang would never touch her there, but he’d seen enough.

  “When you deliver the food. Bring it early tonight, and the watch is yours.” She turned and walked back to Mother Wei.

  Elizabeth watched the old woman drink the last of her soup, then helped her get into the queue for returning to their cells. Along with the other prisoners, they deposited their tin cups in a large steel cauldron filled with boiling water and acrid-smelling soap, then trudged back to their cells, Elizabeth and Mother Wei spinning off at cell number sixteen.

  Elizabeth paced the cell for the next hour, anxiety rising. Retrieving her watch, she checked the time. A few minutes before 8:00 p.m., June 13. According to the man who called himself Charlie, the rescue was hours away. Elizabeth heard a key in the door and flinched. Four Finger Tang stepped in, glancing back over his shoulder. Under a faded copy of the South China Morning Post was a bowl of steamed rice with a few carrots and a gray slice of pork.

  Without a word, Elizabeth took the bowl and handed it to Mother Wei, who was seated on the floor. Then she took Tang by the arm, turned him around so the old woman wouldn’t see, and handed him her watch. He put it in his pocket and was gone as quickly as he’d come.

  Mother Wei gazed up at her with an amazed look. “Why did he bring this?”

  Elizabeth smiled and shrugged. “I think he likes you.”

  The old woman shook her head. “I think I cause you too much trouble.”

  “Nonsense,” Elizabeth said. “We know each other too well to talk polite, is it not so?”

  Mother Wei held the bowl up. “You must eat with me.”

  Elizabeth looked at the rice, and her mouth began to water. She shook her head quickly.

  “No, I’m not hungry,” she said. “The food is for you.”

  Mother Wei shoveled rice in her mouth with her fingers. “I never had a daughter,” she said. “It is too pitiable.”

  “Do you have sons?”

  “Only one. He’s now dead.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Mother Wei looked at her. “How old are you, girl-child?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “You should find a man and marry. Soon you will be too old.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “In America, women marry much later than twenty-eight.”

  “What’s life like in the Golden Country?”

  Elizabeth smiled at the image the Chinese had of the U.S. In Chinese, the word “America” translated as “beautiful country.” God, how she wished she could take Mother Wei with her so she could see for herself.

  “It’s wonderful,” she said. “I always knew it was, but like most people who live there, I didn’t know how wonderful until I lost it.”

  “Is it true what they say, that everyone in America is rich?”

  “Rich is a relative term,” Elizabeth said. “I’d have to say the poorest person in America has it better than we do here. Even homeless people can go where they choose.”

  Mother Wei finished her food and curled up on the floor. With a full stomach, she soon fell into a deep sleep. Elizabeth leaned into a corner, closed her eyes, and listened to her stomach growling. She knew she needed to sleep, but she wasn’t sure what would happen at midnight and wanted to be awake when it did. Despite herself, she drifted into an intermittent sleep.

  A low snore from Mother Wei woke her. Elizabeth reached for her watch, then remembered it was gone. She looked at the angle of the moonlight coming into her cell and tried to guess the time. Probably somewhere between ten o’clock and midnight. Mother Wei was sleeping peacefully, breathing strongly. The old woman already seemed stronger now that she’d had some real food.

  Elizabeth glanced around the cell. It was impossible to imagine that in two hours or less, she’d be leaving this place. It couldn’t happen soon enough, although conditions in the camp had improved dramatically for her in just the last twenty-four hours. No struggle sessions. No beatings. No being awakened in the middle of the night with someone screaming in her face to confess. Those were all welcome changes, but the most important change of all was having Mother Wei with her, ending the terrible isolation.

  It did pay to stand up for what she knew was right, no matter what the consequences. Her political views had always placed her at odds with her conservative father, but it was one of her core beliefs: The strong had an obligation to help the weak. Her father had teased her about her “liberal guilt.” It was true; she did feel guilty about having so much when others had so little, but her charitable efforts weren’t entirely altruistic. Wei Ling was a case in point. If she hadn’t stood up for a sick old woman, she’d still be alone in her cell.

  It was remarkable how close they’d become in such a short time. She’d talked with Mother Wei into the night about everything. Marriage, family, childbearing, all her hopes and dreams, confided things she’d never told her own mother. God, how could she leave her behind after all this? What kind of monster was she? She leaned her head against the wall. The sound of the woman’s breathing soothed her into nodding off again.

  The click of a key against her cell door brought her instantly awake. She heard the lock give and saw a hand pushing the door in. Charlie’s earnest face peered around the door. He put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to come.

  This was it, the moment of decision. She scrambled across the floor.

  “Mother Wei. Wake up.”

  Charlie shook his head violently. “No,�
�� he mouthed.

  “I can’t leave her,” Elizabeth whispered. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  Charlie closed the cell door and took her by the shoulders. “Don’t wake her up, for God’s sake.”

  Mother Wei’s eyes opened. “What is it, daughter?

  “Come,” Elizabeth said, “we’re leaving.”

  “Are we taking our buckets to the fields?”

  “We’re leaving the island. You’re coming with us.”

  Mother Wei looked bewildered. She looked at Elizabeth and Charlie, then at the cell door slightly ajar.

  “An escape?”

  “Yes, hurry.”

  “No, I’ll only cause you trouble. Let me die here.”

  “You’re not going to die, Mother Wei, you’re coming with us.”

  Charlie threw up his hands. “All right, all right. But hurry.”

  Elizabeth helped Wei Ling to her feet and followed Charlie out the door and down the hall. They stopped at a small wooden door in the side of the corridor. She’d passed the door many times on her way to the struggle sessions, but she’d never seen it open. Charlie produced a key from somewhere and unlocked it. She crouched and followed him through the door, looking over her shoulder. She was glad she’d gotten the extra food for Mother Wei, who seemed able to walk much better now. Thank goodness. Elizabeth felt so weak from sharing her rations that she doubted she could support her for long, and Charlie didn’t seem eager to help.

  They wound their way down a small tunnel that opened onto a storage room, then crept past bags of rice, whole hams, cases of rice wine, the bottles individually wrapped in straw. The prisoners would never see any of that. No wonder Four Finger Tang was so fat. The storage room opened onto the kitchen. They crept around the blackened stoves and ovens, to a back door. Charlie opened the door a crack and peeked out, then motioned for them to follow him. They scurried down a narrow path into the cover of brush.

  Crouching in the dim light, they skirted the fields and headed north. Elizabeth looked up at the sliver of moon, partially obscured by dark clouds, and saw a sprinkling of stars in the western sky. The launch. She’d almost forgotten about it. It was scheduled for June 21. Today was June 13. There’d still be time to stop it if she was really getting out of here.

  Raindrops began to spatter around her. Heavy clouds scudded across the moon, leaving them in the dark. Oblivious to the rain, Elizabeth heard waves crash against the rocky shore and caught a whiff of the sea, a clean, organic smell. Her mind swirled with excitement, unable to grasp that this was really happening. Who would be there to meet them? What kind of boat would they have? Where would they go?

  They came to a knoll that began the descent to the beach. Charlie stopped, held up his hand, and turned to Elizabeth.

  “Go down to the edge of the beach and wait for me, there’s something I have to do. No matter what, don’t stop, keep going.”

  Elizabeth started toward the knoll with Mother Wei behind her. She heard a gurgling sound. She spun around and saw Charlie with his arm around the old woman’s neck.

  Elizabeth gasped, a shriek caught in her throat. Tears shot out of her eyes.

  “You’re insane!” she shouted.

  Charlie grimaced and tightened his grip around Mother Wei’s neck, twisting her head to the side.

  Elizabeth’s blood felt like ice in her veins. One more minute and Wei Ling would be dead. “Stop it, you’re killing her, she’s an old woman!” She looked around frantically and picked up a boulder that must have weighed twenty pounds. Amazed by her sudden strength, she raised it over her head and started toward Charlie, intent on smashing his brains out. She brought the boulder down in a sweeping arc aimed at his head.

  Charlie jumped to the side, dodging the boulder. He gripped Mother Wei’s neck tighter and clenched his teeth.

  “Not me, you idiot. Her!”

  Mother Wei reached over her shoulder and grabbed Charlie by the neck. Pulling herself inward, she flipped him over her head. He landed in a jumbled heap in a juniper bush. Morphing into a karate stance, she advanced on him, hissing like a viper. She kicked him in the ribs three times so fast Elizabeth could barely see her foot move.

  A flash of lightning illuminated the scene. Elizabeth looked at Mother Wei, unable to believe what her eyes were telling her.

  Charlie rolled out of reach and came to his feet, clutching his side. He went into a combat stance. He threw a quick glance at Elizabeth.

  “Get down to the beach and wait for the contact.”

  Elizabeth saw fear in his eyes. Her feet wouldn’t move. She stared at the two, crouching, circling, each looking for an opening. Charlie spun around with his right foot, aiming for Mother Wei’s head. She stepped back, dodging the blow easily, then retaliated with a kick that connected under his chin, staggering him. Elizabeth held her head in her hands, still reeling at the instantaneous transformation from sick old woman to killing machine. They fought back and forth for what seemed like an hour. Elizabeth looked toward the beach. What if the contact was there and didn’t see them? What if they heard the commotion and thought something had gone wrong? What if they left?

  She watched the deadly fight, terrified and frustrated, not knowing what to do. It was becoming clear that Charlie was outmatched. She had to do something. She’d gotten him into this mess. She looked around and saw a dead branch about three feet long. She picked it up and maneuvered into position behind the woman, not knowing if she could do this. Aiming at the base of her skull, she closed her eyes and swung as hard as she could. She felt the branch connect.

  The woman staggered. It was the break Charlie needed. He hit her hard and fast, spun her around, and got a choke hold on her. Straining with everything he had, he twisted her neck to the side. Elizabeth heard a snap, and the woman went limp. Charlie dropped her in the wet dirt and fell to his knees beside her, gasping for breath.

  Elizabeth stood in shock, horrified by what she’d just done.

  Charlie scrabbled around in the dirt, panting, searching for something. He picked up a knife. The grip was wrapped with black electrical tape. The blade was long and thin, like a knife for filleting fish. Still struggling to breathe, he held it up for Elizabeth to see.

  “You almost got your throat cut.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He rolled the woman over and started tugging her blouse apart.

  “What are you doing?”

  Charlie ripped her blouse open, buttons flying, exposing a narrow sheath strapped to the woman’s left side, under her arm. He slid the knife in. It fit perfectly.

  Elizabeth shoved a fist in her mouth.

  “She was the fail-safe. You were never supposed to get this far, but if you did, her job was to kill you. That’s why they planted her in your cell.”

  “They didn’t plant her, I took her under my wing in the fields. I thought she was going to die.”

  “They knew you’d fall for that. It’s an old trick. ‘When weak appear strong, when strong appear weak.’ Americans are suckers for the weak.”

  “But she was an old woman. And she was sick.”

  “She was no sicker than I am. And she’s not old. Mid-forties, maybe. Look at this.” He smudged a layer of wrinkles on her forehead. “She was made up to look old.”

  “My God,” Elizabeth said. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know, but now you know why I didn’t want you to wake her up.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. And she knew why Charlie had agreed to bring her once she was awake - he couldn’t leave her behind to blow the whistle. Charlie was right. She was an idiot. She hugged herself to keep from trembling.

  “How did you know she had a knife?”

  “My grandmother used to say, ‘When you see two faces, beware of three knives.’ But she didn’t need it. She could have killed you with her bare hands.” Looking sheepish, he put a hand over his ribs and grimaced. “Damn near killed me. Might have, if you hadn’t stepped in.”

  Elizabeth
looked at the woman’s body sprawled in the dirt and remembered all the things they’d talked about, the special feeling she’d had for “Mother Wei.” She felt a wave of nausea grip her insides and spiral up into her throat. She tried to force it back down, but couldn’t. She bent over, put her hands on her knees, and vomited.

  Charlie laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s a tough world, little sister.”

  Elizabeth felt touched by the tenderness in his voice. It didn’t help. She felt her stomach convulse again. She retched, then stood gasping. There was nothing more to come up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “What a fool I am.”

  “That recognition is the beginning of wisdom,” Charlie said. “The important thing is, her presence here’s a sure sign that someone knows what’s going on. They obviously thought there was a possibility you might escape.” He dragged the woman’s body into the brush and covered it with some loose branches. “Let’s get out of here. There’s a spot down near the beach where we can hide and wait for the Zodiac.”

  “What if they don’t come?”

  “Then we’re in deep doo-doo, as we used to say in Chicago.” He reached in his pocket and tossed something to her.

  She caught the object, then opened her hand. A flash of lightning lit a gold and stainless steel Rolex.

  “My watch.”

  “I had to dispose of a fat guy back there with a missing thumb. When they figure out he’s missing, this island’s going to get very busy, very fast. You’d better pray that our ride’s on time.”

  Matt stood on the fantail of CoMar Explorer in a light rain, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee. He stared in the direction of Turtle Island, his stomach churning. Sergeant Li’s dark form hovered nearby - the guy had been hovering all goddamn day long. He pressed the light button on his watch. Twenty-three-fifty, almost midnight. Li’s next call-in was due in ten minutes, precisely when Matt was supposed to rendezvous on the north shore of Turtle Island.