Fox Spirit 76 – Fraying Family Ties

Sara

December 2000

At the thought of giving up Richie Sara’s throat tightened. “I was thinking he would come back when he’s old enough to start kindergarten. I could come for a couple of weeks then, to smooth the transition.”

            “Kindergarten! That’s two more years,” Mark protested.

            “Well, maybe the summer before kindergarten, then. And we’ll come back before then for visits of course.”  She rushed on before Mark could interrupt. “He’s getting such a good experience in his Chinese school. He has lots of friends, he loves going, the teachers love him, and the cost is almost nothing since I help as an English resource.“

            “Ok, so he’s got a good life with you. But I’m serious, Mom, about planning. What am I going to say on New Year’s Day when Richie and I get together with the Cavallos again and they ask when will be the next time?  You’ve talked about building a bridge, but when I say he’s gone to China with you that’ll be like dropping a bomb on it. You got me to open the door, you can’t leave me with no answers. And he’s MY son. You remember that. He needs to know he has a father who hasn’t abandoned him.”

            Abandoned.The word stopped Sara in mid-thought. For a moment she remembered Storm’s face as he talked about how his parents had left him locked in the root cellar, Ruth Cheng’s face as she explained why it had happened. She thought of her life with Storm and Richie, the apartment which had become a home. How would Storm feel when Richie left?  How would he feel if she left him?

            She wondered suddenly what life Mark had been building for himself since Rennie died – he hadn’t offered to introduce her to any friends; there was no hint of any new outside interest. Had he felt abandoned?  Was he as angry as Storm had been?  She pushed the thought away. Mark had wanted Richie in a safe place, he had said so. And she would bring Richie back. She would have to. But Storm – she would deal with that later. She would prepare him somehow.

            “Mom, are you still with me?” Mark’s voice brought Sara back.

            “No – I mean, yes, Mark. I’m with you.”  She looked at Mark as if for the first time. He wasn’t her boy grown large. He was Richie’s father. He was her partner in ensuring Richie’s welfare. He was her rival for Richie’s love – but no, she pushed that thought away. He was still her child.

             “I’m always with you, Mark. And of course you never would abandon Richie. You gave him to me for safe-keeping.”  To her relief, Mark nodded. He trusted her. She resolved to make more space for him somehow in her Beijing life to keep that trust alive.

Storm

            As Storm waited in the new terminal of the Beijing International Airport, he tried to reconstruct Sara’s face, her voice, in his mind, and the picture refused to come into focus. Almost a month, emails full only of the travel, the child, her son… would she have changed inside, where it counted?  He scanned the travelers pushing or pulling their laden carts through the customs exit – a tailored businessman dragging his small carry-on behind, an anxious-looking older woman bundled in a thick scarf and hat, balancing a peevish child on top of a pile of baggage, a trim young woman equally bundled, click-clicking across the vinyl floor in her high heels…the flood slowed to a trickle, then stopped. But where were Sara and Riqi?

            Had he missed them in the new terminal?  Had they missed the flight? He turned to survey the airport lobby, festively decorated for the New Year, its broad space open to the chill outside. Most of the travelers had been met, or had hurried off to arrange their own transport back to the city center. The woman with the child had not been met; he watched as she set the child into the small seat on the cart and shrugged fatigue from her shoulders.  Then she pulled the hood of her coat back from her head, with a gesture whose familiarity stabbed through him like a knife. She took off her woolen cap, the copper hair blazed in the light, the scales fell from his eyes and he recognized his love.

Spring 2001

Sara

            Sara watched with mingled relief and concern how easily Richie returned to being Riqi. He seemed to have put aside the memories of looking for his mother through all the rambling rooms of Daddy’s house, and of the furry-faced man in the furry red suit, and of the big park with funny skinny trees with pompoms on the top. And so Sara put aside the memories of Ynez Cavallo and Mark’s questions about Richie’s return.

            When Storm was traveling, Jerry Wang and Silver Wing would often invite Sara and Richie over to watch their television and VCR. Silver Wing would go out of the way to find a children’s movie that Richie could watch, or a Western movie with Chinese subtitles that they could all understand. In March she found a copy of “The Wizard of Oz” in   a market stall. But after seeing it Richie woke up in the night crying. “Nai Nai! Nai Nai! The monkeys are coming!

            Sara rushed to cuddle and reassure him. “It was only a movie on TV, Richie. The flying monkeys are only pretend.”

            “But I saw them on TV. And I heard them coming to get me!” He clung to her.

            “Richie, what is on the TV is not real, it’s just pretend, a made-up story”

             Richie seemed to quiet, then his face crumpled again and he began to cry with even greater abandon.

            “Now what’s the matter?”

            “I want a real daddy,” he wailed,” not just made up on TV!”

            “No, Richie,” Sara protested. How had this twist happened?   “You know Daddy is real. We talk to him every week. He asks you about things and he answers your questions. He’s real. Don’t you remember?”

            “But he’s only on TV. I want a real daddy!”

           

Sara didn’t know what to say. “Richie, the computer is not TV. The computer is like a phone. There is a real person on the other side. You can say things to Daddy and he will say something back. You can’t do that with a television. Remember when you showed Daddy a picture you drew and he told you how much he liked it – you can’t do that with a television.”

            Richie still clung to her, his sobs gradually quieting. At last he slept again. The next morning he said nothing about the night’s disruption, and Sara thought it was forgotten as part of his dream until she called Richie to come for the weekly call.

            “No. I don’t want a daddy on TV. I want a real daddy. Uncle Cheng can be my daddy.” He refused to come within camera range. Mark made no comment on Richie’s absence. Sara hoped he hadn’t heard.

###

Sara and Storm were relaxing in the cool of a late spring evening, together under a sheet, talking and stroking each other after love-making. Richie was visiting Auntie Silver Wing; they could be gloriously idle.

            “I wonder,” Storm said, “after you are gone, how I will be able to love a Chinese woman. I think love for me will always be fiery-glowing hair, pale skin, soft curves. I do not think I will be able to love black hair, golden skin, bones and angles. I will have to become a monk.”

            “A monk? Your parents won’t like that. Your mother would never forgive me.” Sara struggled to catch her breath, to keep a light tone. The words ‘after you are gone’ had chilled her. How could he speak so carelessly of her leaving, of loving another woman? When she had talked of it before he had rebelled at the thought. Had something changed?

            Her answer had darkened, not lightened Storm’s mood. “I have no mother,” he said roughly, his eyebrows coming together under the shock of dark hair. “I was abandoned by my blood parents and my true mother, Hope Du, is long dead. I owe nothing to the woman I call Ma.”

            Sara thought of Ruth Cheng’s face twisted with regret as she had told Sara how she had to protect Storm by pretending he wasn’t hers, of her fear of discovery, of her sorrow at having to leave him behind when the opportunity to go to Beijing was given her. But she had promised Ruth not to tell Storm they had met.

            “Storm, I think maybe you wrong your mother. You haven’t heard her side of what happened. Maybe there were reasons.”

            “She left me!” he interrupted, his voice harsh. “She and my father left me like unneeded baggage, to be picked up later when convenient! I can’t forgive them. How can you excuse this?

            “All this talk of leaving,” Sara forced a smile, trying to move the conversation away from Storm’s parents.  “I at least have no plan to leave you any time soon, no matter how many golden-skinned, dark-haired girls are eyeing you.” Her own words stabbed at her as she went on.            “One day, perhaps, you will find a slim, small, graceful girl like a willow tree and lose yourself in her.” Sara hated that small, graceful girl, even as she forced a smile into her voice.

            “But first I would have to find the self I have lost in you, my heart’s core. When you leave, will you promise to leave my soul behind?” He buried his face in her neck and held her. She could feel her heart beating against his, tried to match its beats with her breath. Leaving him was too difficult to speak of. Life without him was too hard to imagine. What had put it into his mind? What had made her give him such an answer? She pulled him closer, stroking the back of his neck.

            “Still you talk of my leaving,” she murmured. “There’s nowhere else I want to be, no one else I want to be with. ‘After I am gone’ is a long time away, I promise you.”  He muttered something she didn’t catch and turned to close her lips with a kiss.

Fox Spirit 73 – Christmas Culture Clash

December 2000

Storm

            The Jiu Jin Shan Wine Shop was even more crowded than usual, as though every bachelor in Beijing had decided to take refuge there against the biting winter wind. Storm pushed through the crowd and spotted Trueheart Zhang sitting alone in the corner booth. He felt a rush of warmth at the sight of his friend. Since Sara had left for California he had been alone too many nights.

            “You’ve managed to save an entire booth for the two of us! Good work, Zhang!”           Trueheart smiled and brushed aside the praise. “I arrived soaking wet from a passing limo’s splash. Nothing like a wet raincoat spread out to dry to ward off invaders. Get yourself a beer and relax – I’ve no plans to go back into that wind until I’m thoroughly warm.”

            On his return, supplied with a Tsing Tao beer, Storm stretched  out his legs and arms to take up as much room as possible. “This is good,” he sighed. “If life could be as simple as a warm room, a cold beer, and a friend to talk to…”

            “Ganbei,” replied Trueheart, lifting his mug. “I only wish Liu were here to share this. I’m afraid he’s got none of those things, unless Jade has managed to link up with him.”

            “You had to mention Liu, just as I was feeling mellow.”

            “Yes, I had to. I’ve been pulling every string I can lay hands on to find a way to get him out of the Reform Through Labor Camp and I’m coming up with nothing. Are you sure your grandfather can’t be persuaded to help?  Isn’t there something he wants that we could get for him? Some secret wish? Something we could trade?”

            “You must be joking. My grandfather is ninety years old – anything he could ever have wanted he either has already enjoyed or is too old to enjoy. The only thing he has left to want is a great-grandson and we can’t pull one of those out of a hat in time to help Liu.”

            “A great-grandson? The ‘four generations under one roof’ thing?” Trueheart lifted a finger as if to say something, then let it drop. He picked up his half-smoked cigarette from the table’s ashtray, then stubbed it out, staring at the ashes. Then he shrugged. “Well then, if he won’t help, he won’t. I’ll keep checking, and if you hear anything from Jade through Scarlet Li, maybe we’ll get some ideas.”

            “Like what?  Usually you would keep nagging at me like a dog with a bone, Zhang. What are you thinking?”

            “Nothing, nothing. Say, what do you hear from Sara?”

            Storm smiled. “If you want to change the subject, say so, Zhang. I know you’re more interested in Liu’s fate than in Sara’s adventures. But since you ask, she says in her emails that everything is fine in California. She doesn’t give any details, so I suspect maybe a few glitches here and there. Introducing a little kid like Richie back into a California lifestyle could be tricky.” He drained his mug. He didn’t want to think about Sara, or Richie, or Liu. Too many empty spaces in his life. “Hey, let’s go to the arcade next door. Bet I can skunk you at ‘Strike Fighter.”

Sara

            Storm’s suspicion was right. Richie’s re-entry to the California world wasn’t going well. Sara had prepared him to meet his Daddy, the real person behind the static-y voice on the weekly phone call, the person in the photograph Sara always put before him during the calls. But the person called “Daddy” who met him and Sara at the airport was nothing like the one Richie had seen in the picture that Nai Nai showed him. Mark hadn’t mentioned that he had grown a beard. No person that Richie had ever dealt with in China had a hairy face!  And it scratched!

            He had been put into his old crib asleep when they arrived, but the sunlight soon woke him. Richie climbed out of the crib, calling “Mama! Mama!  I’m back!”   He ran from room to room, calling “Mama, where are you? Why are you hiding?”

            Sara and Mark looked at each other in panic. Somehow they both had assumed he would have forgotten about Rennie in the months since her death. Mark caught Richie but the little boy screamed and fought. When Sara took him he collapsed in sobs. He could not be persuaded that his mother wasn’t hiding somewhere in the house.

            Sara had forgotten to pack Richie’s summer clothes for the Southern California winter. After only a few minutes playing outside, he was red-faced and sweaty, whining to come in. Sara made an emergency trip to the nearest Target to outfit him properly, but he complained that the new clothes were stiff and uncomfortable.

            He was introduced to his cousins at Uncle Jasper’s and Aunt Carol’s, but that didn’t go well either. No one except Nai Nai understood Chinese; they all talked English all the time. He had always spoken the best English of any child at the Children’s Palace, but it was like a different language here. His cousins spoke so fast, and used words Richie didn’t know, and laughed when he didn’t know them. He was two sentences behind all the time. No one knew how to play Forcing the City Gates. He didn’t know how to play Freeze Tag and he hadn’t seen Star Wars or Toy Story.

            Riche wanted his usual rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He wasn’t used to cereal and milk – he had never had to drink so much milk!  He had been proud of his ability to eat with chopsticks like a grown-up at Auntie Silver Wing’s house. At Daddy’s house he had to eat with a fork. He stabbed his mouth with a fork and it bled.

            “He’ll get used to you,” Sara reassured Mark after Richie had pushed him away for the third time. “Of course, you could shave off the beard and mustache. He says you don’t look like the Daddy in the picture.”

            “Maybe I’ll get you a new picture,” Mark retorted impatiently. “And why won’t he talk to me in English?  You told me you always speak English to him.”

            “I do. He speaks English at the Children’s Palace too. But now he’s being stubborn – he only wants to speak Chinese. I guess it’s his way of being homesick.” As soon as she said it, Sara wished she could snatch back the words. Mark’s eyebrows had come together in an ominous line and his response was clipped.

            “Well, tell him that in America he needs to speak English. Tell him this is his home, even if his mother’s not in it. And I’m keeping the beard and mustache.” 

            Sara sighed.

            “And don’t sigh at me!” 

            At the mall, Richie revolted against having his picture taken with Santa. “That’s okay,” said the elf reassuringly, as Richie struggled to stay in Sara’s arms. “Lots of kids freak out when it comes to actually sitting on Santa’s lap. Can he have a lollipop?”

            “Yes.” “No.” Sara and Mark contradicted each other simultaneously. They broke into self-conscious laughter, while Richie sucked on the lollipop. Suddenly Mark’s expression changed; he moved to encircle Richie with his arms and half-lifted him. Sara turned to see Ynez Cavallo just outside the railing of Santa’s Workshop.

            Ynez had let her hair go. Wisps of gray escaped the untidy bun at the nape of her neck. She was thinner than Sara remembered; her coat hung a size too large, with the hem of her dress sagging below it. Her eyes were fixed on Richie as if he were the only other person in the crowded mall. Her lip curled into what might have been an attempt to smile, but to Sara it looked like a snarl, like a starving dog that had spotted a meaty bone just out of reach. Sara moved instinctively to block Richie from Ynez’s view.

            “Take Richie back to the car,” Sara murmured to Mark. “I’ll keep Ynez here.”

            “No,” Mark murmured back to her. “It’s safer here, with people.”

            “Safer?”  She looked up at him, startled, and only then realized that there was a second person with Ynez. Larry Cavallo had stepped up next to his mother, his face also set in an unnatural smile.

Fox Spirit 72 – November Clouds

November seemed endless. The elderly heating systems of the Bei Hai campus seemed powerless against the cold of an early winter. The wind drove the students, vendors, and even the neighborhood watchmen into the shelter of their homes and dormitories, leaving lifeless streets. In the dim light of the staggered street lights even the snow seemed gray.

            After the American election, it seemed everyone wanted to offer an opinion to Sara about the Bush-Gore election standoff. They would invariably nod and wink and say something like “Ah, it’s the son of a President and the son of a Senator. Of course when two princelings battle there will be a difficulty!”  Sara grew tired of explaining the Electoral College and the role of the Supreme Court. “We understand, Sara.” When the President’s son won out over the Senator’s son, they  nodded sagely.  “Just like in China – guanxi is everything.” 

            “I’m looking forward being to back to California for Christmas this year,” Sara told Storm as they left the office together to pick up Richie. “I’m so tired of winter and politics. And it will be fun to remind Richie about Christmas and Santa Claus.”

            “Do you want him to be so American?” Storm asked with a smile. “All this fuss I have heard about over Christmas … is it so important to believe in Santa Claus?  

            Sara was not amused. “Richie is an American!  I’ll have to take him back for school when he’s five; when he gets there he won’t know what anyone is talking about during holidays!  She darted ahead of him across the street toward the bus stop.

            Storm stopped dead, shocked at her revelation. Of course he always knew she would have to take Richie back to his father sometime, but now she had revealed a plan, a timeline. He pushed his dismay aside as he hurried to catch up with her.

            Later, after they had eaten and Richie was in bed, he opened the subject again. “Your trip to California for Christmas – you’ve made your arrangements? You will surely go?”

            “Yes, of course I’ll go, with Richie.” Sara looked at him with surprise. “I’ve always gone back to America at this time of year – why not this time?”

            “No reason.” He kept his eyes on the table where he was carefully stacking the soup bowls from dinner. “I thought perhaps there was still some danger from the other grand-parents, that you might need to stay here in safety as you did last year.”

            Sara shook her head “I believe it will be all right. The Cavallos wouldn’t risk taking him since the court has ruled.” Then her face clouded. “I am sorry. I just thought again of Liu. He had no trial. It’s a different system.”

            Storm felt a flash of irritation at the change of subject and couldn’t stop himself from arguing. “If Liu had had a trial, the outcome would have been the same. It would have been hard to prove his innocence, with video evidence that he was there at the demonstration. At least he has now a chance to show his good intentions by behaving well at the labor camp. If he hasn’t been stubborn, if he hasn’t insisted on adhering to Falun Gong, then…”

            “You are excusing the government!” Sara said in disbelief. “I don’t understand you, Storm!  No one could have been angrier than you when Liu was arrested and now you blame Liu? “

            “Always my anger was partly at Liu, for having put himself in the way of trouble. Now we can only hope he’s shown good sense since his arrest.”

            He stood up. “As you said, it’s a different system. I have read that in America the prisons are overflowing and still many criminals return to prison over and over. This doesn’t happen so much with us. We hope always for reform, to erase the person’s bad habits.”

            Sara rose to the challenge. “And yet China has a very high number of executions. How does the death penalty encourage reform?”

            Storm smiled and gestured with his hands palm down. “Ah, Sara, I’m not Zhang. I don’t love debate as you and he do. If a criminal is guilty of a serious crime, beyond the hope of reform, he’s executed quickly, not kept in prison year after year waiting for a second trial. I think this is better than what I have read about your Death Rows. But for tonight I don’t wish to leave you with an argument.”

            He put on his thick quilted jacket and turned to leave. At the door of the apartment he stopped. “Deng yi dianr. Wait a moment. I have something for you.”  A small red silk box appeared in his hand.

            Sara took the box in both hands, all impulse to argue gone. She stroked the silk box, eager to open it, but observing Chinese custom – a gift should never be opened in the presence of the giver, lest disappointment show on one’s face.

            “Thank you, my heart. I am embarrassed – I have never given you anything.”

            “Don’t be too polite.Open it. We use American manners.”

            Inside was a bi, a flat round circle of jade, the color of a new leaf, looped with a fine gold chain.

             “You told me, if I gave you something …”

            “I remember.”

            Sara took the bi from its box and said formally, “If you put it on, I will indeed wear it always.”   He took the jade pendant from her hands, carefully unfastened the clasp, then refastened it around her neck. His hands moved to her shoulders and he pulled her close. When he released her, he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Doubt seized him – were those parting tears?

            “You go to California. You will come back?

            “Of course I will!  Wait for me then.”

            The poem from Storm’s old screen saver floated up to the surface of his mind. He recited part of it as he held her at arm’s length for a moment. “You travel a ten thousand mile road to end my long waiting…’ but my life will be more like the dark of the moon after I have seen it radiant at the full. I will wait, but it will be very tedious indeed.”  He pulled her close again, then released her and left without another word.

=======

Photo courtesy of New York Intelligencer

Fox Spirit 71 – Mending the Breach

July 2000

Sara

            “Sweet baby,” Sara murmured as her lips traveled down Storm’s neck, across his chest. “Sweet. Sweet…”

            Storm lifted her chin, smiling, laid a finger across Sara’s mouth. “Your mouth always so busy. Tell me with your hands.”

            Sara looked at him blankly for a moment, then laughed softly as she moved her hand against his cheek, down the back of his neck. He shivered and moved against her.

            ”Like that?”

            “Shhhh.”

###

            Later Storm fingered the gold chain around Sara’s neck. “Why do you always wear this necklace?”

            “My husband gave it to me when we were first married; it’s good luck to wear something given by someone who loves you’’’

            “Wo ye aiqing ni. I also love you.”

            Sara’s heart surged – he had learned to say that! She looked at him steadily. “If you give me something like this, I will wear it always.” 

            Storm’s fathomless eyes absorbed the promise. He nodded, then turned on his back and stared at the ceiling. “You know I quarreled with Zhang.”

            Sara did not know how to respond. When they were out of the office, bantering at the San Francisco Wine Bar, Storm and Trueheart always argued, always teased each other. What kind of quarrel was this?  She tried for a light tone:  “But I’m the one who quarrels with Zhang. How can this be?”

            He turned back toward her. “He said some things which I can’t forgive.”

             Sara tried again. “What things? After such a long friendship, so many arguments you have both enjoyed and survived…. There must be some way to repair…”

            “It was his choice to quarrel, “Storm interrupted her. “I won’t repeat what he said. He left with bitter words lying on the table between us. We won’t meet him on Wednesday’s again.”

            Sara’s first thought burst out: “How we miss Bright Liu! He would have calmed you both, found a way to soothe and mend – I wish he could have been there!”

            Storm rose on one elbow and took Sara’s hand. “Yes, we miss Liu. I’ve lost him, I’ve lost Zhang and I’ve lost Jade. You are now my closest friend as well as my love.”  He put his arm around her and drew her close. “You are my heart’s core. I must take great care of you.”

October 2000

Sara

            Scarlet Li beckoned to Sara as she entered the office. “Please, can you come into the meeting room for a moment?”  Sara followed her, wondering. Scarlet carefully closed the door and then motioned Sara to sit with her at the far end of the table, away from the door. Scarlet bent forward and said in a low voice, “I know you were good friends with Jade Wang. I’ve received a letter from her from Qiqihar City in Heilongjiang province. You know she went there hoping to find Liu, her duixiang. I think… it’s hard to tell, because she writes very carefully… I think she has succeeded in finding him.” 

            “Can you read to me that part of her letter?” Sara asked. “I can’t read Chinese script very well…”

            Scarlet pulled a plain white envelope from her pocket. “You see, the envelope has been opened more than once before it came to me. She did well to write carefully. These are her words:

            “‘My business in Qiqihar is going as well as could be expected. The partner I hoped to meet has been established here for almost a year, but has been too busy to meet with me yet. However I am forming other valuable connections and hope to have that meeting soon.

            “‘With great good luck this business could be concluded before the New Year. Otherwise I fear it will take much longer. The window of opportunity is only open a short time.’”

            Scarlet folded up the letter carefully. “Do you understand her meaning as I do? I believe she has confirmed Liu is at the Reform Through Labor Camp near Qiqihar, but she hasn’t been able to meet him.”

            “Yes,” Sara replied. “But what does she mean by saying she might be able, with luck, to conclude her business before the New Year?  Does she hope to marry Liu while he is a prisoner?”

            “No, I don’t think that would be possible,” answered Scarlet. “But when a person has been assigned by the police to be reformed through labor, he can be released after one year, if he has given up his wrong ideas. And, of course, if he has good guanxi, connections. The Reform Camp at Gunnan in Heilongjiang was established exclusively for Beijing residents, so there must have been some influence in his assignment. Perhaps influence might also free him after this first year.”

            “What influence?  What kind of influence?”

            “I don’t know. You know Liu better than I – perhaps his family?  Or his friends?  Whatever connections he has, this would be the time to use them for his good.”

            Sara hurried to her cubicle. Trueheart Zhang and Jerry Wang were visiting the bank manager this morning. Sara and Trueheart had spoken only about business in the office since his quarrel with Storm, but she put aside that worry, dialed Trueheart’s cell number and left a message, then the same for Storm. Then she waited. The afternoon brought only a quick message from Storm, that he would meet her after work at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine Bar. Sara asked Silver Wing to pick up Richie and dashed to catch the early bus.

            Storm met Sara at the bus stop across from the wine bar. “I saw Zhang go in ahead of me. Did you also send him a message about news of Jade and Liu?” 

            Sara nodded. Storm  looked down the street, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “We haven’t spoken in weeks. Perhaps you alone should meet him.”

            “That’s ridiculous,” Sara answered.  “Zhang and I always quarrel. You have to be there to protect me from his stinging tongue.” For the first time it occurred to her that their quarrel might have been about her.   

            “Ah, but who will protect me?” Storm’s half-smile was a relief to Sara. If Storm could joke, then the quarrel might not be so deep after all.

            The hour was too early for there to be many customers at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine Shop and Trueheart was at their usual corner table. He rose as he saw Storm and Sara approach, then hesitated, as if he regretted beginning on such a formal note. Sara saw his nervousness and jumped into the silence.

            “Zhang, hao jiu bu jian zai zheli! Long time since we met here! I didn’t realize how much I would miss your sharp tongue out of the office!”

            “Sara, yes, too long a time.” Trueheart matched her light tone and then turned to Storm. “I also missed beating my head against your thick skull.” The look in Trueheart’s eyes didn’t match his light tone. Storm held out a hand, Trueheart took it. They all sat… the awkward moment seemed over.

            “We have Sara to thank for news of Liu,” Storm began. Trueheart’s eyes narrowed. Sara was suddenly sure. The quarrel was about me.  She jumped in to move the conversation back between the two men.

            “No, I only am a messenger. Jade is friends with Manager Li, Scarlet Li knew we are all friends with Jade and shared a letter with me since you both were out of the office. Now we really need your quick mind and good connections, Zhang.” 

            “My connections?” Trueheart waved away the compliment. Quickly Sara passed on her skimpy update and Trueheart leaned back in his chair. “So he is in the camp at Gannan, the camp for Beijing residents. Cheng, we’ve been foolish. It’s your connections we need, not mine.”

            Storm shook his head. “No, that’s not possible. My grandfather would not interfere for Liu. He has no sympathy for Falun Gong. He approves the government action against them without question.”

            “Ah, that’s too bad. As a veteran who fought with Deng Xiao Ping, suffered with Deng Xiao Ping during the Cultural Revolution, he would only have to lift a finger…”

            “I have asked and been denied.” Storm was even more decided. “The finger will not be lifted. I’ll try again, if I have an opening, but we can’t build our hopes on this flimsy reed.”

            “Very well,” Trueheart sighed. “At least, I’ll try to find out how it is that he was sent to Gunnan instead of one of the other re-education camps. Perhaps we can find a way to pull the same string again.”

Fox Spirit 70- Not Safe, Not Sound

May 2000

Storm

            Storm, Jade Wang and Trueheart Zhang elbowed their way through the crowd at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine bar, beer in hand, to find their corner table had been taken up by three young couples boisterously deriding the hapless Chinese men’s soccer team. They retreated to a vacant space at the end of the bar, Jade taking the last stool, while the two young men stood.

            “Good of you to come,” Trueheart said to Storm once they were settled. His voice was thick with irony. “Now that you are a family man, I know it is difficult for you to get away.”  He ceremoniously lit a cigarette and leaned back against the end of the bar.

            “I’ve been traveling,” Storm said defensively. “And the child was ill in April – a heavy cold. Then at the beginning of May Sara and I had the same cold – it was, as you say, difficult. Sara is still not feeling well else she would be here. ”

            “Ah, yes, the child.” Trueheart puffed again on his cigarette and then laid it down carefully. “This foreign child – how is it that you’re so involved?  I’d have thought this child’s presence would be a problem between you and Sara, but instead you’ve become so close that there’s no room for anything else – not the thickness of a postcard between you. Not even a postcard from Liu, I think.”

            “Have you heard from Liu?” Storm asked quickly.

            “I have heard of him, but not from him directly. I was hoping you or Jade might have had word from him.

            “What have you heard?” Storm interrupted.

            “Oh, you are interested!  Let me see, now what was it that my colleague told me?  It has been so long since you have mentioned Liu, I thought – you know, bu kan, bu xiang – out of sight, out of mind.”

            Storm scowled at Trueheart. “Stop being coy, Zhang. You sound like a neglected girlfriend complaining about lack of attention. What have you heard?”

            Trueheart smiled wryly. “Now that sounds more like you, Storm. I’d much rather you insulted me than made excuses. Only this I’ve heard through my father:  a memo was passed from the local police station concerning fifty-three adherents of Falun Gong who were detained for disturbing the peace related to an unauthorized assembly in April, saying that these detainees will be sent to Gannan in Heilongjiang province for re-education.”

            “Heilongjiang.” Jade’s face was pale. “So far to the northeast. Why would they send him there?”

            “If he is in this group, it’s actually good news,” answered Trueheart. “This Reform Through Labor camp is under the jurisdiction of Beijing, not the local government. It’s for Beijing residents only and not so many Falun Gong believers have been sent there. Could be he’ll be working in a heavy equipment factory; could be he’ll be working in the fields. Gannan County is too far west for the coal mines or the Daqing oil fields. . At least, he is not to go to Xinjiang in the farthest west. From there no one returns.”

            A small cry escaped from Jade and Storm made a gesture to silence Trueheart, leaving a sudden quiet at the end of the bar.

            Jade bent her head, covering her mouth with her hand. When she lifted her head her voice was calm and clear. “Bright and I are duixiang –engaged to marry. I’ll wait for him unless he tells me he is done with me. If he must make a new life in Heilongjiang, I’ll go to him there. Now let’s talk about something else; we’re done with this.”

               “But how can you…” Trueheart began. Jade cut him off.

            “I asked for another topic. There’s nothing more to say, unless we have news from Liu. Please, let’s leave this.”

            There was an uncomfortable silence, as each waited for another to speak. Then  Trueheart stirred lazily, voice again laden with irony. “Perhaps, Storm, you have brought some baby pictures? You can show us why you haven’t been with us for these months as we have been searching for news of Liu?  I’m very curious about this cuckoo you have taken into your nest.”

            Storm’s eyes flashed. “Enough, Zhang!  He is no cuckoo – he’s Sara’s ward. I also ask for another topic!”

            Trueheart stood up slowly. “You care for another man’s son; you bed another man’s wife. To me this sounds cuckoo. And there are too many topics placed off limits here. I’m taking my leave.” He ground out his cigarette, bowed formally to Jade, and disappeared toward the door.

Sara

            Two weeks later, Sara entered the office and found Silver Wing at the reception desk. “Is Jade ill?” she asked, already fearful of the answer.

            “Not ill, but gone.”  Silver Wing looked anxiously at Sara. “Boss Wang has allowed me to take her place, even though I don’t have her skills, don’t deserve… I hope you don’t mind. I know she was your friend…”

            “Gone!” Sara thought of Jade as she had been when they had last met at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine Shop, as they had all worried and wondered over the fate of Bright Liu. The quaver in her voice, the coldness of her hands. It had been weeks since Sara had been able to talk with her outside of the office. Sara had been sick, out of work for two weeks, and since her recovery somehow Storm had always put her off when she wondered about meeting with Trueheart and Jade. In the office Trueheart and Storm and Sara had always treated each other with careful politeness, not letting their friendship outside the office show. But she had heard from Storm that Bright had likely been sent to Gannan in the north. Had Jade followed? Would she be allowed to join Bright in Jinshan?  Would Sara ever know?

               Then she registered that the anxiety in Silver Wing’s voice was for a different reason. “Of course I am glad to see you here instead of a stranger, Silver Wing. It’s very lucky for us that you could come to help.”  Silver Wing smiled with relief and Sara hurried from the lobby to her cubicle, where she could stare at her computer screen and let her questions run free. How could Jade hope to find Bright when the government regulated all travel between cities? Even if the government let her travel, what good would it do? 

            Thank goodness she was American, not subject to the government – the worst they could do to her would be to send her back home. Her train of thought braked – it had been a long time since she had thought of California as “home”, but in this shifting quicksand of a country she felt how thin was the layer of safety which protected her.

Fox Spirit 69 – Safe and Sound?

Sara

March 2000

            Mark’s phone call at the end of March woke Sara from a sound sleep. 

            “Sorry to wake you, Mom, but I had to share the good news! I’m calling from the court house.” His voice was exultant. The custody case had been thrown out, the grandparents had no standing, and the father had complete guardianship. “But you should have seen Ynez Cavallo– if looks could kill I would be mincemeat.

            “I thought maybe Ynez and Giovanni would come up to me afterward and try to make nice, maybe try for visitation rights, but she was too furious even to speak to me.  It’s as if she blames me for Rennie’s accident, like I should have been the one going to get Richie that day, I should have been the one dead.”

            Sara’s stomach churned.  What if it had been Mark in the car? What if Rennie had been the sole parent?  She pushed the black thoughts away and  tried to keep her voice steady and her tone light as she responded to Mark’s exuberance. 

            “I should have been there to give you a hug, sweet, to counter those black looks. But if I’d tangled with Ynez, it might have made a bad impression on the judge. What did the judge say about custody exactly? Did you tell him where Richie is?”

            “The judge asked “Where is the child now?” and I just said ‘He’s staying with my mother. and he nodded.  He didn’t ask where you were.  He just said ‘Father has custody according to California law. If grandparents wish to have visitation rights, this should be arranged amicably with the father, not made subject to a suit.’  Then he banged his gavel and it was over.”

              Sara was shaking with relief.  Richie was safe! .

            “This is wonderful, honey.  I never really doubted… and maybe you can make it up with the Cavallos later…

            “Hah!’ Mark snorted with derision. “You didn’t see Ynez!” Then he hesitated, a note of uncertainty in his voice replacing the adrenaline-fueled exhiliration. “Mom… I don’t know but what if Richie was here Ynez would still try to snatch him.  Can I ask you… would it be too much… can Richie stay for a while longer? I saw you’ve got a good setup there. I don’t know how I would manage… I know it’s a lot to ask… I’ll send money…”

            “That won’t be needed,” Sara interrupted.  She took a deep breath, forcing herself to keep calm, keep herself from laughing out loud. Richie would be staying. “I’m happy for Richie to stay with me a while longer.  And everything is very inexpensive here.  Save your money.  You’ll need it later.” Sara’s voice stumbled. She was, unable to say the next phrase “for when he returns.” Too soon to think about that.Mark rushed on, not noticing the hesitation.

            “Let’s keep up our regular call time –Sunday at 5 PM your time?  So Richie knows who his Daddy is.  Tell him how much I miss him.  And I’ll send pictures – lots of pictures.”

            “Oh, Mark, we miss you too!” Sara felt a sudden pang of guilt at the loneliness she heard in Mark’s voice.  “I’ll take great care of him, you know I will.  And we’ll talk about you. Of course I won’t let him forget you.”  But another part of her brain was already busy planning. Everything Rennie had refused to listen to, everything Ynez had contradicted, everything she could have done better with Mark… she would have a free hand now!   Richie needed her – he had no mother.  He needed her more than Mark did.

            “Ok, Mom, I guess I’d better let you go. Thanks again, Mom, you’re the greatest.”

            “Yes!” Sara thought as she put down the phone. “For Richie, I will be.”

Richie

April 2000

Richie existed at the center of the universe – that was clear to him.  Everything he saw, felt, heard, smelled, tasted was put there for him to explore.  In response to this plenty, he was a fountain of pure feelings – pure unfettered delight if the taste was good or the voice was friendly, pure uncontrolled rage if anything hindered his explorations, pure fathomless woe if the exploration brought a painful bump or a scary surprise.

            Underlying, overlaying, permeating the universe was Nai Nai, his grandmother.  She was the source of tastes, words, smells, songs, warmth, coolness, softness, snuggles – and occasionally, not very often, she thwarted him.  This was the first hard lesson of life. Almost always Nai Nai echoed his desires, but when she did not the universe became dark and terrible.

            Once there had been Mama, holding the place now held by Nai Nai. But the transition of power was too confusing to remember, and now the two blended together in his mind, so it was hard to recall that Mama’s hair had been long and smooth and dark, while Nai Nai’s hair was curly and wayward and fire-lit.

            There had been Daddy too.  That memory was clearer, because Nai Nai had pictures and told stories about him.  Once in a while there was a voice on the telephone, but the voice was not very interesting without a face to go with it.  It was hard to pay attention, or to think of anything beyond “Hello!” to say when Nai Nai held the receiver to his mouth and directed “Say ‘hello’ to Daddy.”

            Uncle Cheng was much more fascinating.  Unlike most other large people, when Uncle Cheng talked with Richie he seemed to be paying complete attention.  He never broke off a conversation in the middle to talk to someone bigger.  He never laughed when Richie was asking a serious question, or looked around grinning as if he were sharing a joke on Richie.

In fact he did not laugh or grin much. Sometimes a small smile would curl the corners of his mouth.  When he did laugh, his whole face opened up and the mouth stretched so wide that you almost expected the ears to split in two pieces.  This always made Richie laugh too.

            Uncle Cheng was also very good when Richie wanted to be  picked up and carried.  Nai Nai would say “You’re so big now, you’re too heavy for me – let’s walk.”  Or “Let’s sit”.  But Uncle Cheng never hesitated to sweep Richie up to exciting heights the moment Richie extended his arms.  The best was when Uncle Cheng let Richie sit on his shoulders, because then he was the tallest instead of the smallest.  The world looked so different looking down from above instead of up from below!  He liked to assert his power by destroying the arrow-straight part in Uncle Cheng’s thick straight hair, moving random chunks of hair from one side to the other side of the line.

            Sometimes Nai Nai said “You’re so tall, be useful,” and gave  him a cloth to dust away the cobwebs on the ceiling.  He and Uncle Cheng would have a fine time chasing the spiders from their loftiest perches, bringing down their most complex constructions.  When they were done Nai Nai would take the webby cloth gingerly between two fingers and drop it ostentatiously in the laundry basket, at the same time congratulating the two hunters on their prowess.

            The Children’s Palace, where Nai Nai left him every weekday morning, was an important part of his universe. At first the other children crowded around him, fingering his curly hair and peering into his strange light eyes, making comments to each other that he couldn’t understand. But soon his Chinese was not worse than theirs, and they tended to forget Richie’s odd appearance.  He learned to blend in as the other children blended in, talking when he was supposed to talk, listening with hands folded when he was supposed to listen.  Only on the playground did the children’s high spirits explode, and Richie was always the fastest to the top of the climbing structure, where he again gloried in looking down on his world.

            Auntie Silver Wing came over to play with him whenever Nai Nai and Uncle Cheng went out together.  At first he did not like it when Nai Nai and Uncle Cheng left him, but Auntie Silver Wing was so fun!  She would get down on the floor to play with him.  She brought treats.  She never made him go to bed before he was ready.  If he was tired she would sing songs to him, or tell stories in her soft, quiet voice until he had drifted off.  She never was impatient like Nai Nai. She never had an edge to her voice telling him to hurry or they would be late.  And she was pretty, with long black hair, not like Nai Nai, with her tangly red curls.  Nai Nai did not look like any of the other children’s mothers.  This was hard to understand.  He only remembered when he saw Nai Nai with other mothers, or with Silver Wing, looking so different, that he was different too. But it was all right, because he was the center of his world.

Fox Spirit 68 – Return to Joy – and Fear

“Our return wasn’t easy.  We were married, so our first visit was to my husband’s family.  They were living in a large apartment, so much larger even than the home we had shared in Two Ox Village.  We knocked, and my mother-in-law came to the door.  She was thin and old; her hair was iron gray, her shoulders bent.  When she saw Ocean Wave, her face was full of fear – the last time she’d seen him he’d been among the Red Guards.  She called out to her husband, but it wasn’t a cry of joy, it was a call for help.

            “Father–in-law Cheng came quickly from the darkness behind.  He also was old and thin as a reed, but straight. Storm is like him. He had not been broken by the Red Guards. Maybe he learned to bend, or maybe he was protected from the worst of the tempest. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his thick glasses; they were like a mask with only his son’s reflection in them.  Ocean Wave went down on his knees; he koutou’d to his father, then to his mother.  Tears were on his face.  I had never seen his tears before. He hadn’t wept when our son was born, or when we left our son behind.

            “My mother-in-law was the first to speak.  She stooped over her kneeling son, pulled him by the shoulders. ‘No, child.  You must not.  This is Old Thinking.  Come, you must rise up.’ She tugged at him, and then looked at me.  I could still see fear in her eyes. She didn’t know who I was.  Would I report this behavior?  I could say nothing; Ocean Wave hadn’t yet presented me to them as his wife.  I didn’t know how I would be welcomed.  I was afraid, too. The mother-in-law can be very terrible to a young wife.  And this one had no hand in choosing me, so no face to lose if I didn’t please her.

            “Luckily, when Cheng told his parents my family names we found his father and mine had known each other. We had a connection, guanxi.  And  my mother–in-law had no spirit left in her for tyranny. But we still said nothing about their grandson.”  

            The next five years were a story of delay and uncertainty.  Life in Beijing had been hard. Food was scarce, with competition at the university intense. Ruth and her husband had kept the secret of their son from their parents while they struggled with urban life.

            “I thought of Storm every day, wondering if he was well, if he was hungry, if he was able to study, and most of all if he remembered me. We had sent packages and letters when we could, but heard so little in return from Two Ox Village.   In all those years , only a few notes.”  Mrs. Cheng paused. Unconsciously she had extended her arms, palms up, toward Sara, in the universal gesture of pleading.  Tears stood in her eyes as she fought for composure. 

            Finally, at a party to celebrate their joint graduation from university, their secret broke out.

            “At the party, my in-laws raised their glasses in a toast, saying ‘Now enough of studies; time to begin a new project – a grandson for us!’  Everyone clapped and shouted ‘Gan bei’ and drained their glasses.  I thought of Storm as I had last seen him, crying, reaching out for me.  I felt my face twist, felt tears stinging. Ocean Wave hurried over, hugged me, pressed my face into his shoulder to hide my tears, said something like ‘my wife, still so easily embarrassed’. He did his best to pass off the moment.  My father-in-law stepped in, made another toast to future prosperity, future office, all very traditional.  But he had seen.  And Ma had seen. And they had guessed.

            “I couldn’t keep Storm from his grand-parents. Once they knew of him, they were like tigers in their desire to see him.  We wrote carefully to Two Ox Village, asking to adopt the ‘son’ of the Hua’s.  If Uncle Hua and Auntie Du had refused, I do not know what we would have done.  But they were generous; they also wanted a better life for Storm.”

            Sara’s mind was whirling.  Storm’s parents had left him with Auntie Du – to protect him.  Mark had left Richie with Sara – to protect him. She could not help but see the parallels. Someday would Richie feel he had been abandoned by his parents? And the grandparents – she tried to imagine how it would feel if she discovered Mark had hidden a grandchild from her. How would that have gone with her? And why had Storm not heard this story?  Sara had unconsciously bent forward, striving to hear every low-spoken word from Storm’s mother.  Now Sara spoke carefully, formally, afraid of breaking the fragile understanding growing between them.

            “Please forgive my words from before, my sister Cheng. I spoke without knowledge, with no understanding.  What you tell me of your mother – my desire to protect my grandson is also like a tiger.  This I understand well.  Your fear…I have had a lucky life.  I can only imagine around the edges.  But believe me – I have betrayed no trust of yours, only helping my own son.”

            Ruth Cheng settled back in her chair. “I ask your forgiveness also.  We have both spoken hastily – so un-Chinese!”  She laughed nervously. “You will not tell Storm of our meeting?  I still hope to have this talk with him one day.”

            “Mei guanxi. It is of no concern, Mrs. Cheng. I would have spoken in the same way, if I believed as you did. But you must speak to Storm of these things – not ‘one day’, but soon. He has spoken to me of Two Ox Village – he feels bitterness, he does not understand why you left him, or why his parents in Two Ox Village gave him up.  It is a wound in his spirit which has not healed.”

            Mrs. Cheng sighed and nodded.  “I have hoped there would be a time when he would ask. From a mother to her son, some things are difficult to say, and the missing years are a wall between us. Perhaps….” She hesitated.  “Perhaps after all you could say something… something to open his heart to me, if you could. We are the same age; you also are the mother of a son….” Her voice trailed off.

            “If I can do this, I will.” Sara’s voice was firm, but in the back of Sara’s mind, some of Storm’s mother’s words still echoed.  The picture of life as a sent-downer in Two Ox Village – was this still true?  She thought of Happy Liu – would he be pulling turnips? Would he be hungry? Would he be struggled with to forswear his Falun Gong connections? Sara realized how little she knew of Chinese justice, and felt a chill.

Fox Spirit 67: A Baby, then a Wedding

“We were sent to Anhui. To a small village called Two Ox Village.”  Sara stirred at the name, and Ruth Cheng paused, as if expecting Sara to speak.  But Sara remained silent, and Ruth went on.

            She had lived with Hope Du and her husband Red Wave Hua; each day she worked in the fields, and fed the pigs.  She still could not eat turnips without remembering those hungry days. But she felt lucky – Auntie Du and her husband were kind.  They had no children; although she was a girl they still treated Ruth as a gift to them. And their standing in the village was very high; they were very good peasant stock; no history of money or landlords in their family.

            There was a work group of young sent-down men, housed in a rough dormitory on the edge of Two Ox Village. One of them, Ocean Wave Cheng, was able to demonstrate his good calligraphy to the local party committee, and they put him to work painting large-character posters denouncing the rightists. This saved him from being worked to death. Some of the other sent-down students died in the fields.

            It was natural that Ruth and Ocean Wave should come together – they were both from Beijing, even knew some of the same people.  They were very young, and very foolish.  When Ruth missed her monthly flow for the second time, when she first realized she might be pregnant, she had never been so frightened.

            “You must understand,” Ruth said in a soft voice. “The state controls who can give birth.  To be pregnant without approval, without being married, was a crime against the state.  And only the state could approve a marriage. Even in a country village like Two Ox, sixteen was too young to get an approved marriage.   So I was guilty of two crimes already.  And I had seen and heard of terrible things.”

            She stopped speaking, her hands twisting in her lap.  When she spoke again her voice was even softer.

            “One day, while I was still in Beijing, our Red Guard unit was summoned to the neighborhood square.  One of the girls in the unit had been discovered to be pregnant.  She would not name the father.   They tied her to a table in the square and cut the baby out of her.  She screamed until she could not scream any more.  They took the baby out, waved it as if it were a chicken whose neck they had broken.  Then they burned it.  The girl writhed on the table, bleeding.  Finally they cut her loose, but she was already dead.

            “That night, one of the boys hung himself in the guard room.  I think he must have been the father.”

            “There were stories of even worse things being done.  A girl who had kept her pregnancy secret went into labor.  The Red Guard tied her ankles together and left her… but this is too harsh to talk of.”

            Sara shuddered, speechless, her imagination sheering away from what Ruth Cheng was saying.  The silence was stretching on too long. She could not stand it.

            “This pregnancy – your pregnancy – it was Storm?”

            “Yes.” Ruth Cheng hesitated.  “I always wanted to talk to Storm, to make him understand, to put himself in his father’s shoes. Ocean Wave loves me.  He wanted to protect me and the baby the best he could. But we were only sixteen, seventeen.  We had no one.  If it had not been for Auntie Du…. ” She fell silent.

            “What did she do?”

            “Auntie Du and her husband were kind, as I said.  They had grown fond of me; they also admired Cheng.  I was afraid to speak to her but of course she noticed when I wasn’t bleeding every month.  She spoke to me. She had a plan in her mind which would save us, and save the baby.”

            Auntie Du had put it about that she needed Ruth to work in the house, doing weaving, mending, sorting the grain, preserving the foods.  She managed to make the village Party Representative believe that it was she, Hope Du, who was pregnant. Everyone congratulated her; after so many years, to finally conceive.  She said that having a younger woman in the house had brought her good luck.  She kept Ruth inside, while every day she wrapped herself in extra clothing.  Fortunately it was winter, and Ruth also wore layers so no one could see her shape. 

            When Ruth’s time was due, they could not call the village midwife.  Auntie Du was the only one to help her.  Ruth could not cry out, for fear that someone would come and discover the true mother.  Her son was easy on her; he came quickly, as if he knew already there was a secret to be kept. After it was over Auntie Du told the village that the pains came so quickly there was not time to call for the midwife, and that since Ruth’s mother had been a doctor Ruth had been able to help her.

            There must have been some who suspected, but no one said anything – the whole village congratulated Auntie Du and Uncle Hua on their new son.  He was named Bao Feng – Storm.

             “How could you manage?” Sara asked, caught up in Ruth’s story. “How could you feed him?”

            Ruth relaxed slightly, sensing the sympathy in Sara’s words. “It was hard,” she answered.  “I, the servant, could say nothing, only join in the congratulations.  I had to nurse Storm in secret, or press out milk into a bowl so that Auntie Du could feed him.  I had to stop nursing him early for fear of discovery – I think that is why he is now so thin.

            “When Storm’s first birthday was celebrated, I myself made a red jacket for him; I was so proud when he sat inside the fortune circle and chose a book from all the different things offered for him to play with.  But I had to give congratulations to Auntie Du, tell her how fine a son she had, what a scholar he would be – all the time thinking it was such bad luck for a mother to speak so of her own child!  I prayed that the gods would not hear me, and then prayed that the Party would not know I had prayed to the gods. 

            “It was fours year later that Cheng and I dared to ask for permission to marry.  Twenty-one was still very young, but on the farms the rules are less strict, and we had worked hard and given no trouble.   Auntie Du invited Cheng to move into our house, to share my room.  Storm called me “Xiao Ayi” – Little Auntie – and Ocean Wave was “Xiao Shu” – Little Uncle.  We were like a family, only it was all a lie.”

            The Ten Years Turmoil ended.  Ocean Wave’s parents were rehabilitated – everything that had happened to them was “a mistaken excess of zeal.”  Ruth’s father-in-law returned to his position in the party as soon as Deng regained power after Mao’s death.  Cheng’s mother was able to take her violin out of hiding.  Her piano had been destroyed, but her students gradually reappeared.  As soon as Ocean Wave’s parents began to feel a little bit safe, they wanted their son back.

            Ruth’s mother also wanted her daughter.  Hundreds, thousands of other parents, those who had survived the Turmoil, wanted their children.  The government slowly relented, and began to allow the city’s children to return.  Ocean Wave and Ruth applied for university; both were accepted.  Two Ox Village was so proud to have two students at Bei Da. They gave Ruth and Ocean Wave a huge good-bye celebration.  And so they left – they returned to their old lives.

            “And Storm? What of him?” Sara felt a flicker of her earlier anger.               

“We couldn’t bring him with us,” Ruth answered quickly.  “He was not officially our son.  He belonged to Auntie Du and Uncle Hua.”  She stopped, again choosing her words.  “I knew, we both knew, he would be well taken care of.  In the cities it was still not so certain. Food was sometimes hard to get, we were told.  We thought he would be safe as the son of peasants, safer than as the grandson of bad elements.  And Ocean Wave was eager to see his father again, and his mother, and also frightened, because of what had been done to them. 

Fox Spirit 66: Another Side of the Story

The Tully’s Coffee Shop chain had always seemed a bit bizarre to Sara, a knock-off of Starbucks set down in Beijing as if from a different planet, filled with bustling office-workers seeking a quick snack and a Western-style energy infusion. She saw Ruth Cheng at a small table at the rear of the shop, eyes scanning the shop as she stirred a cup of coffee.  Sara ordered the quickest and simplest coffee and joined her. 

            “So kind of you to come to meet me.  Please excuse my rudeness in asking on such short notice.  I am so sorry to be a trouble.” Mrs. Cheng was looking anywhere but at Sara.

            “Bu keqi” Sara cut off the ritual courtesies.  “You know I am always happy to talk with you, though we have not met often.  You must have some special reason to come into the city. It is good of you to make time to see me also.”

            Mrs. Cheng pressed her lips together and risked a quick glance at Sara. “No, no other reason.  I have come to see you only.”

            “I am honored, Mrs. Cheng.  Is there some reason?”

            “Yes.”  Mrs. Cheng hesitated, then started again. “It’s very awkward, but I must ask you.  I have heard there is a child.”

            Sara smiled. “You have heard correctly. There is a child, called Riqi.  Storm is very good with him.”

            Mrs. Cheng dropped her spoon and gripped the table with both hands.  Her voice was a hiss of anger.  “Wo mei xiang dao.   I cannot believe this. This is terrible.  You have betrayed me, betrayed my son!   How could you?” She leaned forward over the table.

            “I thought we understood each other.  You would teach Storm how to be with a woman – this is good; this he needs.  But of course I believed you would not have a child, that an older woman would know how to prevent one.  Now this! Storm can only have one child, you know; it is the law.  That must be with his wife, when he has one.   Now you have this child – you have betrayed my trust, you have betrayed our family.  What can we do?”

            Sara stared at Ms. Cheng.   She must have heard something garbled about Richie. But how could this woman speak to her of betrayal?  How dare she of all people claim a mother’s concern?

            “Ah.  I think I understand.”  Sara’s voice was cold despite the hot anger rising inside her.  “Whatever you heard about a child, you understood it wrongly.  He is not Storm’s child, not my child.  It’s not a problem for you.”

            Mrs. Cheng moved back only a millimeter. Her voice was sharp with disbelief. “But who is this child? Storm has been away from the house so many evenings. Then I heard about a child with you.  Why would he be interested in a child that is not his or yours?”

            “Not my son, but my grandson.  His mother died, and my son asked me to take care of their child. Storm is fond of children, you must know this.  It is no surprise that he enjoys Riqi.”

            “Aiyee!”  Relief swept over Mrs. Cheng’s face, followed by a wave of embarrassment. “Please forgive me, Mrs. Miller.   You know it was concern for my son only that made me speak to you as I did.  He is our only son, our future.  Please excuse a mother’s anxiety.”

            Sara could not hold back her resentment and contempt. “A mother’s anxiety?  I am surprised to hear you say this.  You showed no such anxiety when you abandoned Storm Cheng to be raised by peasants in Two Ox Village!”  She heard the anger in her voice, knew it was un-Chinese, saw the flash in the eyes of her opponent, braced herself for the riposte, and still was unprepared when Ruth Cheng sprang to her feet, almost knocking over the chair.  Her words came so quickly that Sara could barely follow her words, so forcefully that she could barely catch her breath.

            “So, Storm has told you his story – from his point of view!  Maybe you also have understood wrongly!  Did he say he had ever asked for the truth?  Did he say he had ever talked with his father or me?  If he said so, he lied!  He knows nothing. He was sheltered. He was protected. And you judge me from what a child has seen and known?  What do you know of what was risked for him?  What do you, Miss American Foreigner, know of fear?  You are as sheltered as he, although you claim to be a grandmother.  Until you have risked your life to save your son, you may not judge me!”

            Sara’s surprise fought with her temper.  Her siding with Storm had been so automatic, the thought of another side of the story had not occurred to her.  Still, how could Storm have been wrong? How had his life been ‘saved’ by his parents’ deserting him? She replied stiffly, “Mrs. Cheng, it’s true that I have heard only Storm’s account.  I am ignorant.  Please sit down again.”

            Ruth Cheng was breathing hard, her eyes bright with anger and unshed tears.  Slowly she sat down, lifted her coffee cup, and sipped.   Finally Ruth Cheng spoke, carefully choosing her words as if she were offering a lecture, in contrast to the emotional storm which Sara had just seen.

            “I don’t know how much you know of the last thirty years in China, the years of Storm’s life.  Since you’ve become his great friend, maybe you can help him understand his fate.  This would be good for all of us, I think.  So I will try to tell you.  It will be hard – these are things that we don’t speak of. You will understand once you’ve heard…. “

            She took another sip of the coffee, then carefully set the cup down and folded her hands in her lap.  Her eyes went back and forth from the cup to Sara’s face.

            “First, you must know something of my class background.”

            Sara hid her surprise.  What did Ruth Cheng’s class background have to do with her abandoning Storm? She took a breath and chided herself.  Don’t start debating. Hear her story first. 

            Mrs. Cheng leaned forward again; her face was very near Sara’s now. Her anger was no longer visible, but her voice was muted, so that Sara had to lean even closer to hear. 

            “Our parents – Mr. Cheng’s and mine – were all labeled ‘bad elements’ during the Ten Years Turmoil – you call it the Cultural Revolution, maybe.  My husband’s father had been with Deng Xiao Ping on the Long March. He thought he was safe, but when Deng was denounced, Cheng’s father also was struggled against. My husband’s mother taught music on the violin and piano; these were Western instruments, and she taught Western music. They were denounced as rightists, and their own son had to participate in the ‘struggle sessions’ or be denounced himself. Still, Cheng’s parents were luckier than some.  They were not beaten badly or tortured, only humiliated. They had some powerful friends in the Party who must have helped to protect them.

            “My own father would probably have been denounced too for Old Thinking, but he had already died.  My mother was a doctor, working at a health clinic in Beijing.  She was allowed to practice medicine, but only with the supervision of a party member. Medicines were few, hygiene was difficult. If the patient lived, it was because of Mao’s right thinking and the correctness of the Communist supervisor. If the patient did not recover, it was because of my mother’s rightist loyalties, Western training and Old Thinking.  Many times she was beaten when a patient died. 

            “It is hard to speak of what happened in those years.  Cheng had finished high school and was ready to start university; I had nearly finished high school.  We did not know each other then.  We had both been highly ranked in our class, but we were children of rightists.  We had to prove ourselves to be dedicated Communists in order to be part of the Red Guard. We did things that I can’t talk about.  Our education was what we learned on the streets and from the Red Guard mobs.  Sometimes we fought other students who claimed to be more devoted followers of Mao.  Really we were nothing but street gangs.

            “Then came a change. Mao mandated the Down to the Countryside Movement. All the youth in the large cities – Beijing, Shanghai, Nanjing, Guangdong, Jinan, Chengdu –were sent to the remote provinces.  Mao said that the students should ‘learn from the peasants’.  Maybe the real reason was to break up the Red Guards, stop the disruption.  History changes with the writer.”

            “So you were sent to…?”               

“To Anhui. To a small village called Two Ox Village.” 

Fox Spirit 65 – Turning Points

夜采千星落， 风集万巷呼

传灯追晓日， 来证此生殊

          -陈立强

The night lets fall a thousand stars.

Through myriad streets a fresh wind screams.

The torch is passed; the dawn appears.

Now show this life can match our dreams.

             -Chen Li Qiang (2000)

December 1999

Sara

            “We have to decide about welcoming the New Millennium,” Scarlet Li announced. “Boss Wang has set aside some money from the office account so we can celebrate together in hope of our prosperity in the Golden Dragon Year. We must think together –any ideas?

            “We should go to the Great Wall,” suggested Chief Engineer Shi. “There’s going to be a display of fireworks going on all along the Great Wall to mark the Millennium, all the way from Jiayuguan in the northwest to the ocean at Laolongtou. This will happen only once in our lives – we should be part of it. We could rent a van and driver and go together.”

            “There will be crowds,” objected Trueheart Zhang. “We’ll be lucky to get even close to the Wall.”

                        “Still it’s once in a lifetime,” Shi persisted. “And this will be China together with the world – a great event.”

            “If it works!” scoffed Gateway Tang. “Haven’t you heard about the Millenium Bug? We won’t be able to drive to the Great Wall if all the traffic signals are affected. We’d do better to order a banquet and watch on television, if there is anything to watch.”

            “If the systems fail, then the television will also have problems,” commented Scarlet Li. “A banquet, it is true, can be relied upon.”

            “Mei wenti, no problem.” Shi was not deterred. “This is only a Western bug. The old Western systems are still running on ancient computer languages like COBOL. For once we have the advantage over America. We have no systems that are so old, so no problem with this bug.”

            Sara caught Storm’s eye across the room. They had talked of something special between them to celebrate the new millennium. He smiled and shrugged, palms open. He would follow her lead. She wanted to be part of the celebration, whatever it was. She had spent too much of what should have been Christmas feeling left out. She plunged into the discussion.

            “Even if we end up in a traffic jam,” she said, “it will be a once-in-a-lifetime traffic jam that we can all talk about together. We could bring the banquet with us in the van –it will be cold at the Great Wall at midnight in winter, so it would be good to have our own warmth.”

            Shi smiled in answer to her support. “I’ll look at getting a van and a banquet to go along. Manager Miller, perhaps you can bring your songs from the Children’s Palace. If we’re stuck in a traffic jam, you can entertain us.” Amid general laughter and comment, the plan was set.

            But what about Richie?  Sara abruptly remembered the new complication in her life. She couldn’t take a toddler along on such an expedition. And who would be willing to watch over him on such a night? Everyone in Beijing would be celebrating. Perhaps one of the mothers from the Children’s Palace would help, but she had not really gotten to know any of them well enough to ask such a favor. Maybe Scarlet Li knew someone.

            Sara had just begun to phrase a request when the phone rang at her desk. It was Silver Wing. “Sara, I’ve heard from my husband about the plan for the Millennium. I don’t like crowds, and don’t want to go to the Wall. Maybe I could take care of Richie for you so that you can enjoy the celebration?  He would be company for me.” Sara sighed with relief, even as she began the ritual “Oh, no, you are too kind, it is too much trouble.” She wondered in the back of her mind what other issues lay ahead in her role as foster mother, but resolved to think about it all later.

            The Millennium arrived as predicted. There was a traffic jam. The crowds were enormous. The night was cold. But the food in the van was delicious. The van was full of laughter. There was no sign of the Millennium Bug. And the fireworks were spectacular.

            The group from Rainbow Software linked arms and scrambled up the rough stairs to the highest tower on the wall, a half mile from the access stairs at Badaling. From there they could see the fireworks surging along the wall from west to east in the form of a golden dragon, accompanied by drums and cymbals at every tower along the wall. As the dragon grew larger and closer, the cold wind brought the tang of sulphur fumes from the exploding gun powder. The close-packed crowd was cheering, waving, swaying back and forth as they sang the “March of the Volunteers” and “The East is Red.” Sara did her best to hum along.

            Storm stood next to Sara holding her arm and protecting her from the press of the crowd. In the anonymity of the crowd she snuggled close, feeling the rough wool of his jacket against her cheek. His head was high as he sang the National Anthem. Around her the others from Rainbow Software were singing also, even self-conscious Gateway Wang. Sara was swept up in the pageantry. She thought of the last time she had heard such crowds, when they had been protesting the Kosovo embassy bombing. Then she had been on the outside, caged in her apartment for her own protection. Now she was part of the throng, sharing in their joy. Perhaps, after all, this could be her life. Then she felt the pull of someone’s gaze and, straightening, she caught Jerry Wang’s disapproving glance. Be careful. She must remember to be careful.

January 2000

Sara

            A few weeks later Sara received an unexpected call at her office from Ruth Cheng.  Her voice sounded tense and strained.

            “Duibuqi, Mrs. Miller, I hope not to trouble you too much.  Please, can we talk? Can we meet?  Perhaps we can have coffee?  There is a shop not far from your office? Not too inconvenient for you?”

            “But of course, Mrs. Cheng.  There is a Tully’s coffee shop a few blocks down the street from our office.  When would you like to meet?”

            “Perhaps, if it is not too much trouble, too short notice… I am just outside now, calling on my cell phone.  I hoped that you maybe have no plans for your afternoon break?  We could meet now?  In a few minutes, maybe?”

            Sara’s mind went blank, then started whirring. What could Ruth Cheng want to speak to her about on such short notice? They had exchanged only courtesy messages through Storm since that first dinner. But of course she must oblige Storm’s mother. “Of course, Mrs. Cheng.  I must finish one small task. I can be at Tully’s in fifteen minutes.”

            “Please do not rush your work because of my late request.  I will meet you at the Tully’s coffee shop.  I can see it.” 

            Sara closed down her computer and ran her fingers through her hair.  She reviewed the past weeks in her mind. She and Storm and Richie had spent a lot of time together, yes, but Storm was even more circumspect than before in his comings and goings because of Richie.  What could be going on?  Sara slung her bag across her shoulder, and told Jade that she was going out for a short break.  No use guessing, just go and find out.

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Poem by permission of Chen Li Qiang. My own translations