“We all agree you are too soft,” she says. “You complain too much. But Chairman Mao says, do not fear hardship. Do not fear death.”
I don’t fear hardship, but I do fear death. Few choices are open to those who are struggled against: hold to your morals and risk further punishment; admit guilt and accept punishment; admit guilt, offer thanks for everyone’s comradely help, and hope for leniency. My father Sam comes clearly to me now. I feel as thou
gh he is standing next to me, his hand on my shoulder, reminding me not only what a parent should do but also how he might have done it differently. I turn and face my accusers.
“I’m grateful for your criticisms, for I know you’d not have said them if they weren’t true,” I say. “I’ll take them to heart and I’ll improve. I thank my comrades.”
“Good!” Sung-ling says. “The tribunal will take a few minutes to discuss the case. Everyone remain in your seats. We will return shortly.”
Brigade Leader Lai, Party Secretary Feng, and Sung-ling walk down the center aisle and out the door. I sit on my bench and face forward, aware of the restlessness of those behind me. I unbutton my blouse, and Samantha’s mouth grabs my nipple. My shoulders relax. Everyone around me calms at the sudden quiet. Tao comes and sits next to me. He doesn’t look at me or check on Samantha. Why is he being so difficult? Why doesn’t he just let me go? He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t even like me. Have I harmed him in some way? Does he want something from me? The only thing I can think of is just what Z.G. said. Tao wants me to help him leave this place. How many times has he asked me to write to Z.G. for a travel permit? Too many to count. And yet this was one of Tao’s biggest complaints about me.
The tribunal returns.
“You have quarreled over minor differences,” Brigade Leader Lai says. “Comrade Joy, you will not be made to wear a white ribbon of denunciation, but you must abstain from capitalist thoughts and make sure your husband receives his prerogatives. Comrade Tao, remember that children—whether sons or daughters—do not belong to you. Your daughter belongs to Chairman Mao.” He pauses to create the greatest effect, and then announces, “This divorce is not granted.”
The entertainment is over and people get up to leave. I catch Kumei’s eye, and she turns away in embarrassment. My mother-in-law, Jie Jie, and the other children group together, waiting. Tao flicks his finger, motioning me to follow him. I have nowhere to go and no other options at this time, but as soon as I get home I pull out paper and a pen. I write a letter to Z.G. begging for travel permits. Tao watches me the entire time.
The next day I come home from work, feed the baby, and leave her with Jie Jie. Then I take my letter to the pond and wait for the mailman. It’s the beginning of January in the Western calendar. I’ve missed Christmas and New Year’s again. It’s cold and dreary. When the mailman doesn’t come, I walk up the hill that leads out of the village. From here, I can look far across the desolate fields. In the distance, I see a man bicycling toward me. It’s not the regular mailman, which tells me he must be dead. Will this new one be reliable? All I can do is trust and hope, but I know with sinking certainty that my letter will never go through. Brigade Leader Lai will read my request for travel permits, and that will be that. Word of what’s happening here cannot be allowed to leak out from the commune. The only way I’ll be free of Tao is to help him leave the village, and the only way I know to do that is going to fail.
After handing my letter to the mailman, I turn to walk back to Green Dragon Village. A new welcome sign has been posted by the side of the path:
1. ALL CORPSES MUST BE BURIED.
2. ALL BODIES MUST BE BURIED AT LEAST THREE FEET DEEP WITH CROPS GROWN ON TOP. NO SUPERSTITIOUS TRADITIONS WILL BE TOLERATED.
3. THERE WILL BE NO CRYING OR WAILING.
4. THERE WILL BE NO BEGGING, HOARDING, OR STEALING.
5. ALL VIOLATIONS WILL BE PUNISHABLE BY BEATING, LOSS OF FOOD PRIVILEGES IN THE CANTEEN, OR IMMEDIATE DISPATCH FOR REEDUCATION THROUGH LABOR.
Pearl
A BRAVE HEART
“WHERE WERE YOU born?” Superintendent Wu asks again.
“Yin Bo Village in Kwangtung province,” I answer.
“Do you have relatives still living there? Can you name them?”
“I’m related to everyone in the village, but I left when I was three. I don’t remember anyone.”
After twenty-nine months of meetings, I wouldn’t say that Superintendent Wu and I are friends, but we get along all right.
“Are your relatives workers, peasants, or soldiers?”
“I guess peasants, but I really don’t know.”
“Let’s turn to your daughter. Is she still on the Dandelion Number Eight People’s Commune?”
“Yes, she is. As you know, I finally heard from her. I have a granddaughter now. She’s ten weeks old. I’d still like to visit—”
“Tell me about your family in America.”
“I have a sister. I hope one day for family reunification.”
And on it goes. The exact same questions.