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 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.

=====

Poem by permission of Chen Li Qiang. My own translations

Fox Spirit 63 – A Family Forms

             独崇 玉烁儿，郁郁星眸亮。

            不作哭声， 作笑声，自顾莺鹤唱。

            皓腕饮晴琳，日照瑚珊样。

           争去人怀雀跃行， 挽臂秋千荡。

                                             -陈立强

 

                        As dear as polished jade,

                        My son, my treasure –

                        Eyes like stars, with light brimming,

                        Not with tears, with laughter sparkling,

                        Carefree as a small bird singing,

                        Clear and fine his white skin gleaming,

                        Lit with sun like coral seeming.

                        Joyful steps my heart entangling,

                        Hand in hand, two children swinging

                        I am a child, re-made

                                    To serve his pleasure.

                                                – Chen Li Qiang (2000)

 

Storm

            Storm had stayed away from the office for the first week after Sara’s return on various pretexts. He had seen Sara’s discomfort at seeing him and her son Mark together, so he held back his impatience until he knew Mark had returned to California. Sunday evening he waited in the light rain outside Sara’s door, hunching his shoulders against the damp chill. He saw Auntie Chen’s outline against the window opposite, but she did not call out to him or greet him. Had he become a non-person?  Would Sara also ignore his presence?  The child would still be there… would this be a barrier?  Thinking of Sara still made his heart quicken, his body stir… surely what they had was not broken. How could he endure to work in the same office if he was nothing to her?

            She was late coming from the office –but then, she would have to stop at the Children’s Palace for the child. How would she bring him home?  Perhaps she would be taking the bus, not her bicycle. If he waited at the bus stop then Auntie Chen would have nothing to remark – but if she had not taken the bus after all?  He shifted from one foot to the other, wondering if he should leave. Then he saw her. Sara was wheeling her bicycle over the curb; the child was in some sort of seat on the back. She hadn’t seen him yet. She stooped over to murmur something to the child. She straightened, looked forward, stopped. She had seen him.

            To Storm’s relief, Sara’s face lit at sight of him. She said nothing, but her lips trembled as she rolled the bicycle toward him. He reached to steady the bicycle as she put her key in the door. Together they pushed the laden bicycle into the entryway. The child, nodding and sleepy, whimpered as she released him from his belts and straps.  “You take him,” Sara said. “I’ll manage the bike.” She wheeled the bicycle into its place against the wall. The child whimpered again and the small arms slid around Storm’s neck. He felt almost a physical pull from the center of his being. A murmur of surprise escaped him as he held the child closer.

            “What is it?” Sara asked.

            “He has taken my heart.”

            “No.” She put one hand on his arm, the other on the child, smiling up at him. “Your heart must still be mine.”

            “It is still,” he smiled back. “My heart is big enough for both.”

            Dinner, a story, and at last the child was settled, quiet. Sara drew the screen around the crib and turned to Storm. His heart lurched again with a sudden surge of feeling.

            “You’re tired,” he said.

            “Yes”

            He began to turn away, disappointed, then

            “Yes…she repeated, smiling, reaching out to him

            Yes… sliding her cool hand around his neck

            Yes… pulling him toward her

            Yes. His arms went around her; he was kissing her face, her neck, her mouth

            “Hush, Richie will hear us.” She drew him to the bed.

            Afterward they lay together, warm under the blanket, the child still quiet behind the screen in the other room. She stroked his flank and spoke as if to herself, “Now we are three.”

            “Three?  You, me, and the child?” He stopped speaking then added slowly, “That has been my dream.”

            “Your dream? To have a child with me?”

            He nodded. “But I knew it wasn’t possible. Now that it has happened …”

            She smiled and put her finger across his mouth to silence him.

“Now we are three –and so much easier this way. No pregnancy, no birth pains, no midnight feedings.”

            He smiled back. “Still one problem: diapers!  How soon can that problem be solved?”

            “Ah, that was only for travel, in case of accidents. The flight was long and there were lines for the toilet. But he did fine.”

            “Ah, then he’s  perfect.”

Sara

               Monday it was raining. Sara’s phone rang. “Ni hao, Sai le.” It was Silver Wing. “You shouldn’t ride your bicycle with Riqi to the Children’s Palace – the weather is very bad. We’ll come to pick you up.”

            “No, you are too kind.” Sara protested. “We have to learn to take the bus.”

            “Not possible. Not necessary. We will be there in one half hour.”   

            “But…” The phone clicked off before Sara could argue further.

            Thirty minutes later came knocking at the door. “All ready?” Jerry Wang stood sheltered by a pink umbrella which cast an unnatural light on his cheerful face.

            “But wait… I’ll get the car seat for Richie.”

            “No problem, we have seat belts. Beijing doesn’t require a child seat. Silver Wing will take care of him.” He hustled Sara and Richie out the door.

            Silver Wing had stationed herself in the far back seat, her arms already outstretched to receive Richie. She took Richie from Sara, cooed in his ear, tickled his nose with her hair and secured him in the center of the back seat.

            Sara could not help checking in the mirror – Richie was still such a new responsibility. Silver Wing was talking, teaching Richie how to say her name. Richie was at his morning best, enchanted by the attention, responsive and giggling.

            Sara turned back and smiled at Jerry Wang. “Looks like Richie has found another new friend.”

            He looked at her with a question in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind. Silver Wing has been very lonely for a child. If you’re willing to share your grandson a little with her, it would be a great kindness.”

            Sara remembered Silver Wing’s smile as she took Richie with her into the back seat. And Jerry Wang seemed sincere; the barrier that had been between them was down. “Of course. Perhaps Silver Wing would like to take care of Richie sometimes in the evening.” Sara was thinking already about evenings with Storm, for beer and argument at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine Shop with Zhang, and after.

            At the end of the week Sara stopped at Storm’s cubicle. “Let’s go together on the bus to get Richie tonight. I can’t depend on Boss Wang’s kindness too much.”

            They had seldom ridden the bus together. Sara had grown used to being stared at, but now she thought there were more furtive glances from the other passengers than usual. Were they trying to figure out the relationship between one who was obviously a waiguoren and one who was obviously a local? She placed an arm behind him to grasp the hand rail, shielding herself from being jostled and from the appraising glances.

            On the trip from the Children’s Palace to Sara’s apartment, with Richie in Storm’s arms, the other passengers seemed even more curious, but Sara kept her eyes lowered and Storm seemed too absorbed by his young burden to notice.

=====

Poetry by permission of Chen Li Qiang. The translation is my own.

Fox Spirit 61 – Flight

“Jerry, you need to understand what’s happening.”  Sara unconsciously slipped back into their earlier informality as she outlined the situation to her boss on the phone. Jerry Wang also forgot his reserve in response to her urgent tone.

            “Of course,” he said, his voice admitting no argument. “The son belongs with the father’s family. In Chinese history and legend, the Old Empress always controls the prince.” Sara had to laugh at the sudden vision of herself as a Dowager Empress whispering commands from behind a screen. Laughter felt good.

            Then she called Storm to outline her plan. His reaction was quite different.

            “I don’t understand, really. What is different, their taking your grandson from his father and hiding him away, and you taking him and bringing him to China?  He is their grandson also…”

            The tension of the week had been hard on Sara’s self-control. With Storm’s objection all her own doubt and fear broke out as anger.

            “What do you know about being a parent?  Don’t talk about what you can’t understand!  He’s my son’s son!  I’m taking him for his father, to bring him up like his father’s people!  You, a Chinese, should understand this!  And they’re trying to steal him, not even speaking to his father. They can’t be trusted!”

                        Sara realized how shocking her raw emotion must be to Storm. She struggled to regain control. “Please, Storm, hen dui bu qi. I’m sorry for losing my temper. This is hard for me. It’s my family. It’s important.” She stumbled over the words, groping to find some formula which could contain and explain her emotion.

            Storm spoke slowly, as if thinking aloud. “I think I see… in China we want a son to continue the family name, and also he must be raised in agreement with the family tradition. If the father is an educated man, the son must also be educated. If the father has a special kind of work, the son will follow in this work. You are perhaps more Chinese in this way than I’m myself.”

            Sara fought to speak calmly. “It isn’t about following a tradition of work – we are talking about a toddler! He’s only two years old – he can’t choose now what life to lead. But he’ll be taught by the people he lives with to believe one thing or another. I won’t have my grandson told lies about his father, about who he is!  I won’t give up this boy to another family to raise!” She stopped suddenly, remembering what Storm’s parents had done.

            Storm’s response came slowly. “As you say, I haven’t been a parent. But I’ve been the child caught between two families. I think most Chinese would agree – the mother’s family is always the wairen, the outsiders. But this isn’t a problem for logic.” 

            “Then maybe for this time you can be a little more Chinese?” Sara insisted. “I’ll need your help, I think, if our plan succeeds.”

            Storm’s voice was quiet. “You know that I’ll help you if you need it. Whether you are right or wrong, I’ll help you.”

            His assurance gave Sara the calm she had lost. “Thank you, Storm. I think I’m right, for now. If later I’m wrong, I’ll let you know. Now let’s plan…”

            Flight. Sara turned the word around in her mind. Flight equals flying, as in hopes taking flight, flight schedule, birds in flight. They were certainly doing that, the three of them side by side in the 747’s center seats, Richie wriggling, questioning, whimpering, giggling and finally dropping into sleep; Sara cajoling, consoling, lulling with songs and now drowsing, remembering how her Chinese had made visas so much easier at the Chinese embassy, thankful that only a small payment was required to add Richie to her passport as her under-age ward. Mark was asleep in the window seat, still gripping the portfolio of papers which would open the next door. They were definitely in flight.

            Flight. Flight equals fleeing, as in taking flight from peril, “flying from a sea of troubles.” Somehow the word held an undertone of cowardice, of reluctance to face the menace, of weakness. What if Mark had insisted that Richie stay with him?  Could he have fended off the Cavallos, in the court and afterward?  Could he have guarded Richie against another abduction attempt?  Could he have succeeded as a single parent?  Should Sara have been so certain?  Should they have had an alternate plan?  Did Mark feel a secret relief at having someone else take over, take Richie off his hands?  “Fleeing from a sea of troubles;” yes, she was definitely in flight.

            She looked at Richie, asleep, curled up in the airline blanket, the crayon provided by the stewardess still clutched in one hand. Richie would be safe, cared for, doted on. But what would happen to Mark? She shoved that worry aside.

            Sara led the way out of the customs area and through the crowded terminal, Mark trailing behind his mother and his son, pushing the laden baggage cart. Sara remembered her first impression of the thick air, the chatter of reuniting families, the swirl of people and luggage descending to the subway, and the waving flags of the tour guides as they herded tourists to waiting buses. She turned to reassure her son, then waved as Jerry Wang’s car pulled to a stop out of the whirl of traffic. Sara made introductions and then all three were bundled into the car with a flurry of comments from Jerry Wang about Richie’s travel equipment. Apparently no-one in China had ever used or seen a child’s car seat. Mark and Richie slept in the back seat, while in the front seat, Sara and Jerry Wang talked in low voices as he maneuvered through traffic.

            “Silver Wing has found a crib and other baby things for you to use – they are all waiting for you at your apartment.”

            “So kind of her. So kind of you, too, to come to pick us up. I have troubled you too much.”

            “Don’t be so polite. We are friends. Silver Wing is so excited about your grandson’s coming, as if he were her own baby.”

            ”She’s very generous and Scarlet Li also – so many preparations!”

            “Yes. Manager Li is a fine one to organize.”  They chatted about the different people who had helped to prepare for Richie’s coming, about the trip, about things to be done when Sara returned to the office. “Manager Cheng has been traveling in Suzhou. He will return to the office tomorrow. He’s found some good business for us there, I think.”

            Sara had scarcely had time to think of Storm since their one conversation. There had been so much to arrange, so much tension involved in spiriting Richie away, so many family concerns to manage. The mention of Storm’s name brought his image into her mind with such force that she caught her breath.

            Jerry Wang shot a sidewise glance at her. “Are you all right?”

            “Yes, just thinking about all the things to be arranged.”  How would Storm fit into a life with Richie?  And what would Mark think of him when they met? How would such a meeting go? They were two different parts of her life that couldn’t fit together. She pushed the thought aside. Mark would not be here for long.

            Again, Silver Wing was waiting in Sara’s doorway, outlined by the light behind. Sara ushered Mark and Richie into the apartment, which suddenly seemed much smaller. Scarlet Li and Silver Wing had set up a small crib in a corner of the living room/kitchen, sheltered behind a folding screen. Extra bedding on the sofa was on loan during Mark’s stay. Milk and fruit filled the small refrigerator Wa, bread and cereal was fresh in the cupboard. A collapsible stroller was parked in the entry next to Sara’s bicycle, which had been fitted with a very basic child seat.

            “Silver Wing, thank you again. You and Scarlet Li have done so much….”

            “It’s nothing. He is your grandson. He must be cared for. This is the Chinese way, no question.” Silver Wing reached out a slender hand and gently stroked Richie’s sleeping head. “He is so beautiful.”

            Jerry Wang moved beside Silver Wing and took her hand. “We’ll go now. These travelers need to sleep. Manager Miller, perhaps tomorrow you can bring Mark and Richie to the office so that everyone can see the son and grandchild of whom we have heard so much?  And Manager Li needs your help with arrangements so that Richie can attend the Children’s Palace.”

            “Of course. I’ll bring Mark and Richie just before lunch time, all right?  That won’t disrupt the office too much, I hope?”

            “Everyone will be very glad to see you return and to meet your family. We’ve missed you, Manager Miller. But now we will go, so that you and your family can sleep.” 

            Sara stood at the door watching as Jerry and Silver Wing drove off. So much kindness!  Then she turned to the urgent business of settling her family for the night.

            “So, here’s my office.”  Sara unfastened Richie’s stroller harness and set him upright on the floor, then rose to introduce Mark and Richie to Jade Wang.  

            “Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”  She led Mark and Richie from the spotless, orderly front lobby past the cubicles with their standard furniture and tangled power cords and into the littered engineering lab.

            As the engineers bowed their introductions, Sara suddenly realized that Richie had vanished.  She hurried back to her cubicle and stopped short on the threshold.

            Storm Cheng was there.

Fox Spirit 59 – Frayed Family Ties

Sara thought it would be difficult to explain the emergency to Jerry Wang, but this was not so. Of course she should be with her son and grandson – no question!  Let Jade make the arrangements for you; she will call friends at the travel agency.

            Everything was arranged for Sara’s departure, as Sara was still half-numb from shock. She had not gotten on with Rennie, she had hated the willful childishness which Mark had found so charming at first, but she had never wished Rennie dead, only different. What would this death mean to Mark and Richie? 

            In another hour she was beginning to have a more accurate idea of what it might mean, an hour punctuated by a jangle of phone calls from Mark, each delivering late-breaking news. First came his recounting of Giovanni and Ynez Cavallo’s violent and abusive reaction to the death of their daughter. Then in the middle of the night, came news that the morgue had released Rennie’s body to a mortician hired by the Cavallos, the body and funeral arrangements commandeered out of Mark’s control.

            “The Cavallos told the morgue doctor that Rennie and I were divorced!  So they gave her over to them without even checking. Mom, wait until I find out where they took her. Uncle Jasper and Aunt Carol are coming over, so I’ll have some support. Just keep standing by.”

             Another panicked call came from Mark as Sara finished her morning coffee. “Mom!  They’re trying to take Richie!” He had received a call from Richie’s daycare, asking for confirmation that Richie was to go home with his grandfather.  “I told them no way, no one picks him up but me. But what if they snatch him?”

            “Stay cool, my kid,” Sara said, hoping for calm and a chance to think. “No one is thinking straight when something like this happens. Naturally they are going to want to see their lost daughter’s only child. But of course they’ll have to work with you.”

            “But they can’t have him!  He’s not theirs!  You know how they are – if they take him for a weekend they’ll keep him for a year, passing him from relative to relative like a basketball while I chase him from one house to the next. And they’ll tell him lies about me, about our family. I don’t want them to have any part of him.”

            “All right, Mark. Just try to keep a level head. Make sure the daycare people know not to…”

            “No worries about that, Mom,” Mark interrupted. “They have their instructions really clear. Anyway I’ll keep you posted.”

            By the time Sara got to the office Jade Wang had secured a bereavement rate and a seat for Sara on that evening’s red-eye flight through Tokyo. Sara quickly reviewed her draft outline with Trueheart and Scarlet and then hurried home to pack. And then, just before Scarlet Li picked Sara up to take her to the airport, came another call.

             “Mom, I’m glad I caught you. I decided not to fight about the funeral. The Cavallos have arranged a full Catholic mass for Saturday afternoon. But Ynez Cavallo wants Richie to come. After that day care thing I don’t trust her. What if they try to  snatch him?”

            Is he paranoid?  Is this a false alarm? But what if he’s right?  ”Honey, call your Uncle Jasper and ask him to come to the funeral with us. Make sure he’s wearing his uniform and don’t let anyone hold Richie but you or him. I don’t think there could really be a plan to snatch Richie, but a 6-foot-plus uniformed US Army colonel should be able to keep them at bay. We’ll see what happens.”

            Wednesday disappeared as Sara crossed back over the International Date Line. Almost sleepless on the plane, Sara sagged into Jasper’s welcoming hug at the LAX gate. He held her at arm’s length and decided she could use a second hug. That done, Jasper took Sara’s carry-on with one hand, settled the other arm around her shoulders and steered her to his waiting car.      “Glad to see you here so fast. Carol has been staying with Mark and Richie and I’m sure looking forward to having her back.”

            “How is Mark doing?”

            “Not so great. He’s got a lot on his plate. You’ll see.”

            The next day, Thursday, was a blur of jet lag, too much coffee and tending to both Richie and Mark. Richie attached himself to Sara like a lamprey. Mark was relieved as it left him free to pace, pound the table as he passed, and inveigh against the truck driver, the morgue, the Cavallos and the blindness of fate. “What was she thinking, trying to pass a big rig in her old Datsun?  I’d warned her about taking risks on the road. She just laughed at me. Mom, what am I going to do?  What is Richie going to do?  What if he gets sick?  If I have to travel?  I was barely figuring out how to be a daddy, I don’t know how to be a single dad!  What am I going to do, Mom?”

            “Let’s take one thing at a time, ok?  We have to get through the funeral. Is there any chance that Ynez could help with the child care? She doesn’t work except at home – maybe you could…

            Mark was staring at her, incredulous. “You must be kidding!  You’ve seen the way it’s been just these last two days.   Can you imagine me dealing with Ynez about Richie?  You don’t understand what it’s been like.”

            “Then tell me!”          

            The story gradually spooled out – the fraying of the marriage, the nights when Rennie took Richie to her mom’s house and decided to stay over; the increasingly frosty reception when Mark was there. “I know you think I’m paranoid when I talk about them trying to snatch Richie, but you haven’t been here for the last six months, Mom. They look at me as if I were a wife beater. God know what Rennie has said to her folks. You know when she loses her temper she’ll say whatever hurts the most, and she’s certainly said a lot to me that I won’t be able to forget. Whoever said “words will never hurt me” was never on the receiving end of a poison tongue like Rennie’s. And yet, you know, Mom, she could be so charming, so much fun. And then something would turn…”

            The funeral passed like a series of snapshots in Sara’s mind.  Her dark blue dress for the funeral, her stern-faced brother Jasper holding Richie in his arms, Ynez Cavallo’s face when she saw Sara, blood surging to her face, brows coming together like iron gates clanging shut. And then the onslaught of Cavallos wanting to hold Richie, wanting to take him up to say goodbye to his mother. Sara felt sick. Was it the reek of incense, or her jet lag, or the thought of making a child view his dead mother’s body? “Hold onto Richie, Jasper,” she muttered to her brother. “Hold on real tight.” 

            After the funeral mass the Cavallos were like twining vines, all edging closer to Richie and Uncle Jasper, all cooing and reaching out:  

            ‘Isn’t Richie tired? Shouldn’t I take him outside for air?’ 

            ‘Richie, don’t you want to come to Grandma Ynez?’

            Mark wasn’t being paranoid. Sara was sure any one of the Cavallo family would be ready to bolt with her grandson if they got the chance. Fortunately Richie loved being carried high by Uncle Jasper and never tired of examining his medals and ribbons. Sara sighed with relief when the reception was over.

            “Mark, I know you and I have to go to the grave for the burial. But let’s send Richie home with Jasper – there’s no need for him to go and I’ll feel better if he’s out of range of all this.” She waved vaguely at the encircling in-laws. Mark’s face lit with relief. “I don’t want Richie there, but I was afraid you were going to take him home and leave me alone at Rennie’s grave with all her family glaring at me from the other side of the hole.” 

            “Nonsense,” replied Sara, taking his arm with a twinge of guilt. Not that I wouldn’t have liked to. She saw Ynez approaching and put on a rueful smile.

            “You were right, Ynez. Richie is getting tired, so he’s going home with his uncle.  We don’t think he needs to be at the burial. It might give him bad dreams, I think.”  She kept smiling through Ynez’s protests. Don’t let the mask slip.

Fox Spirit 57 – Love Prevents, Love Sustains

Sara moved to intercept Storm’s stride, blocked his circular route with her body and breaking the rising rhythm of his anger.

            “Stop.” She moved against him, running her hands along his arms, then down his ribs toward his waist. He stepped aside, tried to go around her, but Sara moved with him, touching him as boldly as she could.

            “What are you doing?  This is no time for play, while my friend is who-knows-where, suffering who-knows-what.  I’ve heard stories. There’s no time to waste. I only came to tell you…” Her hand was on his mouth, the other moved slowly down to his belly and lower between his legs.

            “Hush.” She was nearly as tall as he and nearly matched his weight; he couldn’t escape from her. Her voice was low and intense. “What will you do with all this anger, this frustration?  You’re like a sparking torch. You will burn and destroy and then crumble to ash, with nothing to show but black destruction.”

            “So!” he hissed. “You would keep me here, until my anger is gone. And then what?”

            “Exactly!”  She snapped the word out like a whiplash. “When your anger is gone, then your mind will be clear.”

            He grunted impatiently and tried to move past her, but again she blocked him.

            “What will you do?  Pound on a door?  Shout from a window? Even throw a rock at an official car?  And then what? You may find Liu, in the cell next to yours!  What will you get from that?”

            Her hands were still busy, touching, stroking, pulling at his shirt. There was no hint of play in their lovemaking this time. Sara felt her body was her only weapon against the anger that could destroy him – she set herself to take it in, take in his energy, his frustration, his frenzy, until there would be nothing left to drive him into danger. This night she used all she had learned about what pleased him, what triggered his desire, making sure there was nothing left. Her triumph was in his return to calm, to reason, to thought. He lay in her bed semi-conscious, barely moving, his fingers tangled in her hair, every muscle limp, relaxed, exhausted. She waited until her own heart calmed, withdrew her hands from his body and let him sleep.

 

            Two nights later, Storm, Sara, Trueheart Zhang and Jade Wang arrived separately at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine Bar and sat together silent in their corner booth. Beer arrived. The television blared soccer. Behind them the crowd groaned as the Chinese goalie let a third goal score. No one in the booth spoke. It seemed as though months, not weeks had passed since the National Day celebration.

            Jade’s eyes were red-rimmed. Sara reached for Jade’s hand and then pulled back, remembering the Chinese reluctance to touch in public. She didn’t know what to do with herself – her hands and feet and hair all seemed to be in the way. The three others also seemed strained, struggling to remain controlled. The empty space where Bright Liu should be was sucking them all in, a vacuum which absorbed all their thoughts and speech. Sara couldn’t bear the empty space. She had to ask: “I’ve not heard. Is there any news?”

            Storm’s eyes were tired. “There is no news from me. There is only rumor. It’s fortunate for Liu that his father is in the Party. Also that he has no previous record of causing trouble.”

            Jade stirred. “I have news, perhaps.” The other two moved uneasily. Her red-rimmed eyes didn’t augur well.

            “Liu’s mother has called me. She knows that we are duixiang, engaged. She wanted me to know.” Her voice trailed off.

            “What, then?” Storm prodded.

            “She has heard from Liu. Actually, it’s his father who has heard, through the Party. Liu has been struggled with. He has agreed it was not right for Falun Gong to challenge the Party. He is being sent down for re-education. They don’t know where, or for how long. His family is waiting for more news, but it’s difficult.”

            Sara reached out again without thinking; Jade took the offered hand without looking at Sara. She gripped Sara’s hand with a spasmodic strength, as though all the fear and love and anxiety in Jade’s heart had been re-routed in her grip. The cold rain of mid-October drizzled down the smoke-dulled panes.

            Storm reached for Sara as soon as they entered  her apartment. “Let’s forget, just for awhile, about Bright Liu, can we?  My brain is tired from thinking in circles, with no plan.”  Without a word Sara led him to her bed. Later,  as they were twined together on her bed, she snuggled closer to Storm and stroked his cheek.

            She said, “I love you.” Those English words again. They kept coming to her lips, even though they might not mean as much to Storm.

            His response was unexpected: “Why is that?”

            “Why do I love you?”  Sara struggled to find words to match Storm’s serious look. “Different reasons. Changing reasons.”

            Then she warmed to her subject. “First, I loved you because you move with the grace of a cat. And because your hair falls across your forehead, black and shining like a crow’s wing. And because your hooded eyes hide secrets.

            “Then I loved you because of your elegant hands, fingers so long, touch so gentle and yet so strong. And because of your body:  slender, wiry and smooth to touch.

            “And now I love you also because I’ve seen your eyes flash with passion. And now I am one of the secrets hidden in your eyes.”

            She waited for him to respond. Finally he stirred. “You want me to say something back?”

            “Yes.”

            “Something about what you have said?”

            Sara shook her head. Why was this so hard? She tried to make it easier for him. “Or something about what you feel.”

            “Ah.”  He paused again, then spoke slowly, as if feeling his way. “This ’I love you’, in Chinese I think there isn’t a word that means quite the same. Maybe ’jiang ai’ but I’m not sure.”

            “Try,” Sara ordered.

            Storm pulled back from her embrace and studied her seriously. “I loved you first, if it was love; maybe fascination, because of the way the sun strikes your hair and sets it on fire, and because your pale skin shows every flush of feeling, and because you stand so straight. I wanted to look you in the eye, but didn’t dare, so I was always debating with myself: what color are your eyes? 

            “Then I loved you because of your certainty. Once you had decided to love me, there was no hiding, no pretense, no hesitation, no coyness. You welcomed me. That was all, and all in all.

            “Now I love you because you’re a part of me. I can’t imagine being separate from you.” Storm was silent again, thinking, then resumed in a lighter tone.

            “Still, in Chinese, there is no word for ‘love’. No single word that takes in all that we’ve said. Maybe I have caught this feeling from you, like some strange disease from the West.”

            “Not a disease!” Sara protested, laughing.

            “No? When you drain me of energy until I can barely stand? When I can’t concentrate on work or serious matters for thoughts of you that invade my mind? You are huli jing, I shouldn’t forget. You will take all my Chinese manhood and leave me a basket of Western notions with no place to use them. “

            Sara began to respond sharply and then realized that Storm was laughing at her again. She made a fist and punched him lightly; he seized her hand and suddenly they were wrestling. Then Sara was laughing helplessly as he pinned her beneath him and tried without success to stop her laughter with kisses. Breathless, she went limp and Storm drew back. Sara reached up and stroked his face again.

            “I don’t think I will take all your Chinese manhood. Your mother wouldn’t forgive me if I robbed her of a grandson.”

            Storm captured her hand again and pulled her arm around him, lying close as he murmured, “Ah, be careful! A grandson isn’t to be spoken of lightly!” Sara nodded and allowed her body to respond to his insistent hands. But a corner of her mind was thinking of Richie’s picture, face down in her drawer, and wondering what a son of Storm’s would be like.

Fox Spirit 56 – Another Fateful Phone Call

           

Golden Week was finally over. Sara’s heart quickened Monday morning when she heard Storm’s step outside her office cubicle. She turned to catch his eye, felt his hand touch her shoulder briefly, then turned back to her desk, smiling. They would meet at lunch, maybe. She took a deep breath at the thought of that meeting.         

               From her cubicle she could hear Storm’s cell phone ringing. She heard Storm’s “Wei?” in response, heard silence, heard the urgency in his reply without being able to make out the words, heard him push back his chair, saw him move quickly past her line of sight.

            “Wait! Storm!  What is it?” she called after him. He turned quickly, took two long steps back to her and bent his head so only she could hear.

            “It’s Bright Liu. He’s been taken by the police. Zhang has asked me to go to his family. They live in the south of the city, near Dahongmen. Please make up a tale for Scarlet Li and Boss Wang.”

            He turned to go; Sara seized his arm and pulled him back.

            “But why?  It is always Zhang who talks politics, Liu who makes peace!  How can this be?”

            “Didn’t you know?  Liu is part of Falun Gong. The government has decided to crush them.”

            He disappeared through the door to the lobby.

            Sara stared after him, uncomprehending. Falun Gong? The peaceful demonstration from back in April?  She remembered her conversation with Scarlet at the time, but why would the government take action now?

            She wanted to ask Scarlet about it, but hesitated. Storm had told her to make up a tale. He and Trueheart Zhang were both gone. Storm had not wanted others in the office to know of his friend’s being taken. And what about Jade, Bright’s girlfriend?  Did she know? Sara shivered in the air-conditioned office. “Taken by police.” Such an ominous phrase. Taken where? Why? For how long? “Crush them.” She had heard stories, but that was supposed to be the old China, the China of Mao, not the bustling capitalist-road China of Deng Xiao Ping and his heir, Jiang Zemin. What could Bright have been involved with?

            By the next day she guessed. Bright Liu must have been part of the April demonstration near the Zhongnanhai government compound. Beijing, including the Rainbow Software office, was buzzing with speculation, though almost nothing appeared in the nightly news programs or official newspapers.

            Sara joined Scarlet Li and the younger engineers who were discussing the government reaction in muted voices. “But what will happen to the demonstrators?” Sara asked Scarlet. Sara realized she knew nothing about Chinese law.

            “If the government decides to punish them, it will find a law that they have broken.” Scarlet said, stepping away from the group. “You must know, Sara, if you prick the tiger with a pin, he will answer with his claws. I don’t know what will happen. Probably the demonstrators will be released after some time, after they’ve repented, after they’ve renounced their loyalty to Falun Gong. The first loyalty must always be to the government.”

            “But what about a trial? Won’t there be a trial?  The demonstrators harmed no one!”

            “Trial? The police can detain anyone whom they feel disturbs the peace. Only after three years they must be given a trial. But even then, if the person isn’t found guilty, he may still not be allowed to return to his home. This depends on his attitude, whether he has accepted re-education.”  Scarlet stopped and waited, as if expecting some comment from Sara.

            “Three years with no trial?” Sara stopped in mid-question, suddenly aware of Scarlet’s lowered voice .

               Scarlet looked over her shoulder toward Wang’s office. “Sometimes people just disappear, if they are stubborn. It’s better not to draw the tiger’s attention. If you had a friend involved, your interest won’t help him. I don’t ask. I don’t wish to know. I’m only offering a word.”

            Sara felt sick to her stomach. Smiling, chubby-cheeked Liu, Bright Liu the peacemaker, disappeared?  She couldn’t take this in. And where was Storm? What risks was he running to find his friend?  Trueheart Zhang, how had he gotten news?  Was it dangerous for him to pass on what he had learned? Suddenly her quiet office life, her comfort in her tiny apartment, even her passionate love, seemed unreal, like a painted screen dropped down to hide what was really going on. She remembered her amusement at the painted sunflowers which had hidden the griminess of Beijing’s outskirts on her arrival. More masks. When would she learn to look behind the masks?

            Neither Trueheart nor Storm was not in the office the next day, nor the day after. On the third evening Sara returned to her apartment late in the evening after sharing dinner with Scarlet Li and her family. As she stopped her bicycle in front of her door and loosened the pollution-filtering face mask from across her face, she saw Storm’s lean form detach itself from the shadows under the wall and move toward her. He followed as she pulled the bicycle under its shelter. Her mind was full of questions as she turned. At the sight of his sober face her stomach clenched and she tasted bile.

            “Liu is all right? Tell me.”

            Storm hesitated before replying. “Let’s go in. It would be best to talk inside.”

            He brushed past her into the room and stood looking out through the courtyard window. The dim evening light cast his face into sharp relief: the angular cheekbones, the hooded eyes, the swathe of dark hair. Even in her anxiety, Sara couldn’t help but catch her breath. He was so beautiful. She didn’t want to speak. He moved and the spell broke.

            “Tell me,” she repeated. “What have you learned?”

           

“It isn’t me, but Zhang. He has his sources through his father’s newspaper. There’s no good news. Liu was in the front lines of the demonstration. There were video cameras, of course, almost from the first. Maybe he’s been identified from these, or perhaps there was an informer. Worse, it’s been said that he was an organizer. He’s in confinement. He’s being questioned.”

            Sara’s stomach twisted again. She had a vision from old movies of a windowless room, one bright light, dark menacing forms.

            “Questioned?  What does that mean?  What will happen?”

            “Questioning: it’s a polite term. The police will question him until he gives the answer that they want. If he’s lucky and if he isn’t stubborn, he will know and give the desired answer. If not, he will undergo struggle.” 

            “What do you mean, ‘struggle’? I’m sorry. Again I don’t understand this.”

            Storm was pacing back and forth.

             “This is another polite term. He’ll be pressured to change his thinking. You may have read of these struggles during the Ten Years Turmoil. Some people threw themselves from windows to escape their tormentors. Others were thrown. How could Liu have been so foolish?” He pounded his fist into his palm. After a few moments he went on.

            “If Liu is stubborn, if he doesn’t recant his belief in Falun Gong, if he doesn’t name others who were involved in organizing the demonstration, he may be sent to a labor camp for re-education. We hear this is happening to many of the Falun Gong demonstrators.”

            “A labor camp? Like your parents in Two Ox Village?”

            Storm nodded. “This would be very serious. He would become a non-person; he would be divided from his home, his family, his friends. Already his work is probably gone. The government would never allow a tour guide tainted by Falun Gong belief.”

            “But Liu said Falun Gong is a religious practice, not political,” Sara protested.  “In America we aren’t allowed to ask about someone’s religious beliefs, unless they get in the way of his work, or if he has to take a special religious holiday or wear a special kind of clothing. But religions and the government are separate.”

            “Really?” Storm stopped his pacing. “It’s not so in China. In China everything, including religion, has to be under the control of the government. Religion often causes conflict, doesn’t it?  I have heard this is true in India, in Arabia, even in some parts of America, right? So it’s better that the government should have control.”

            “But,” Sara hesitated. “You can’t believe that it’s right for the government to arrest someone like Liu! Someone with a gentle heart who has done no harm!”

            “No, Liu couldn’t harm the government. But I can see the government side. The leader of Falun Gong refused to allow a Communist Party group within Falun Gong. He said that Falun Gong has no party, no politics. But in China there’s nothing that can be without or outside of the Party. How could Liu have been so naïve, to think this protest would go without reprisal?  How could he?” Storm was pacing again, the fist pounding again into his palm.

            Sara couldn’t tell whether Storm’s anger was directed at Liu or at the omnipresent State. She could feel his frustration mounting as his pace quickened, as his turns at each wall became sharper. Before, he had reminded her of a panther, because of his grace and economy of movement. Now the panther was caged, pacing, furious and ready to throw itself at the surrounding bars, even knowing they were razor sharp. She knew that if he left her in this mood, he would do something reckless. He wouldn’t protest peacefully and quietly as Liu had done.