Beijing Coma (96 page)

A few members of the Workers’ Federation’s Dare-to-Die Squad, all wearing red armbands, ran over to us and shouted, ‘The soldiers are killing people in West Changan Avenue. The citizens need our help. Come on, everyone, let’s go. We’ll fight those bastards to the death . . .’

‘Wake up! Open your eyes!’ my mother cries, banging my iron bedstead. ‘I can’t go on like this! I’ve had enough. Enough! I can’t take it any more. If you don’t hurry up and die, I’ll kill myself. I’ll jump off the roof. I’ll gas myself, hang myself, swallow a bottle of pesticide. I’ll cut my wrists . . .’ She grabs my sheet and buries her head in it. I hear a muffled scream that sounds like straw crackling in a cotton bag.

Then she stands up and lets out wild, warbling howls. She inhales a breath of air, rasping, ‘Will you never die?’ then on her outbreath wails, ‘You useless lump of wood . . .’ Her words float through the dust that’s blowing in from the demolition site outside. ‘I’ll burn this flat down, I’ll . . .’

A neighbour bangs on the door. ‘Auntie, let me in . . .’

The sparrow is startled. It snuggles into the nape of my neck. It has rubbed itself against my skin so often over the last days that many of its feathers have fallen off, and it now has difficulty flying.

There are three people yelling on the landing. Their cries echo through the stairwell. Still sobbing and shaking, my mother slowly opens the door.

‘. . . You must face up to reality, Auntie. Stop burying your head in the sand. Ask your younger son to come back and look after you. It’s not his money you need now, it’s his help.’ This is the neighbour who sells exercise equipment. My mother takes her into her bedroom. The two other neighbours who followed her in are standing in the sitting room.

‘Why not pay someone to look after him? Or send him to a care home?’

‘I employed a girl to help out, but she left after two days. She said he looked like a corpse and was afraid to touch him.’

‘This is a two-bedroom flat, isn’t it? Why is it in such a state? It looks like a junk shop.’

Police officers used to raid this flat all the time. But it’s so squalid now, they refuse to come, even if they’re bribed with large bonuses. They say the flat smells so bad that for days after they visit, they can’t wash the stench of it from their skin.

‘I’m fine,’ my mother says quietly. ‘Just a little fed up, that’s all.’

‘You must take care of yourself. That younger son of yours is so selfish. How could he move abroad and leave you to cope with all this?’

‘I haven’t told him about the demolition yet.’

‘You should have. It won’t be easy, buying a new flat and moving house on your own.’

‘I’m not moving. If the government doesn’t give me proper compensation, I won’t budge. I’ve given fifty years of my life to the Party. They can’t turn me out onto the streets.’

‘Listen, Auntie. You and I are just ordinary citizens. You can’t refuse to move. Government officials will turn up here and squash you like a fly. And anyway, this demolition is important for our Olympic bid. If the old buildings aren’t torn down, the new ones can’t go up.’

‘What have the bloody Olympics got to do with me? . . . I’m getting old now. There’s nothing left for me to live for . . .’

‘You’ve been through worse than this, Auntie . . . Once that plank of wood has died, you can apply for a passport and go abroad.’

The two other neighbours walk into my room and look at me. ‘It’s incredible to think that this vegetable’s urine was able to cure so many sick people . . .’

‘He looks dead! He’s lost all his hair.’

‘It’s a crime to keep him alive. She should send him to the crematorium and be done with it.’

‘Don’t say that. It will bring you bad luck. And besides, who knows, if the government rehabilitates him one day, he might become some kind of hero.’

‘When are you moving out? Did you end up buying that flat in the Fragrant Garden compound?’

‘No, it was too expensive. I’ve heard the government is planning to build some cheap flats for low-income families not far from here, so I’ll wait and buy one of those.’

‘Well, you won’t be able to afford even them. Property prices between the second and third ring roads have risen to six thousand yuan a square metre. This compound is inside the second ring road, but the Hong Kong developer is only giving us five thousand yuan a square metre. He’s very crafty. He’s put his Chinese wife in charge of the project. She grew up in this district, apparently, and has connections with top officials. A lot of the money that should have gone to us has been spent on bribes. They cut off the electricity and water in the west side of the compound yesterday, and have started pulling down the buildings over there. The provisions store has already been demolished.’

‘I’ve seen the plans. They’re going to raze the compound to the ground and build a huge shopping centre. There’ll be an open square, right where this building is, with trees around the perimeter and a tall fountain in the middle. It will be the most luxurious shopping centre in Beijing. They’re such crooks, fobbing us off with just five thousand yuan a square metre.’

‘You should pop up for a chat some time. My husband often goes away on business. I’ve got a Mahjong set. We could ask two other neighbours to join us and have a game . . .’

‘. . . I’m fine, really, there’s no need to worry . . .’ my mother says, walking into the sitting room. She sounds much calmer now.

They leave the flat and close the door behind them, cutting out some of the loud chugging noise from the diesel generator that’s powering the machines outside. My mother sits down. In the distance, I hear bulldozers thud into the brick apartment blocks.

The black sky drags me out of the window . . . So this building will become a public square. Ten years ago, I escaped from the nation’s political centre and retreated into my home. But soon my home will become a shopping centre. Where can I retreat to then?

‘Where are you thinking of taking me?’ Tian Yi asked. ‘I’m not leaving the Square.’ Her face was pale.

I took some string from my pocket. ‘If there’s a stampede, we could lose our shoes. Let’s tie them on with this.’

‘No, don’t bother. That string won’t keep them on.’ She looked down at her black court shoes. She was probably afraid that the string would make her look foolish. She tightened her ponytail and pulled it through the hole at the back of her baseball cap.

There was a distant sound of gunfire in the east and west. Mou Sen asked some Beijing Normal students to take most of our electrical equipment back to their campus. Then he and Nuwa sat on the stage and stared at the scattered crowds.

Two foreign journalists began to interview Nuwa in English. While answering their questions, she looked into the distance and fiddled with a lock of her hair.

‘You must burn the Democracy University’s enrolment list,’ I said to Mou Sen. ‘The troops moving in from the east and west will converge here soon. You should take Nuwa and Tian Yi back to Beijing Normal. The roads to Beijing University have probably been sealed by now.’ Then I asked Tian Yi to give me my sunglasses, but she said she didn’t have them.

Mou Sen pulled his cigarette pack from his coat pocket, found it was empty and flung it on the ground. ‘I can’t leave the Square while the Beijing Normal flag is still flying. But I’ll get someone to take our minutes and scripts back to my dorm. I’ll need them when I’m writing my novel.’

When the interview was over, Nuwa turned to Mou Sen and said, ‘You shouldn’t throw your rubbish on the ground like that.’ Then she leaned against him and whispered, ‘I can see you’re anxious. Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you. If they put you in jail, I’ll sit outside the prison gates and go on hunger strike . . . What were you doing with that pack of cigarettes, anyway? I thought you’d given up smoking.’

‘I’m not anxious. I’m disappointed. The Democracy University has only just got off the ground and now I have to close it down.’

Nuwa ran her fingers through his hair and said in English, ‘
Your speech was wonderful, my darling. You are a hero. I love you.
’ When Nuwa smiled, my eyes were always drawn to the red curve of her mouth.

‘We’ve had it,’ he said, his shoulders hunched forward in despair. ‘The soldiers are firing bullets. Real bullets.’

‘Don’t worry, this is the darkness before dawn,’ Nuwa said. ‘Good always prevails over evil.’

Mou Sen swept back his sweaty fringe and said, ‘You and Tian Yi should leave now and go back to my campus.’

‘I’m not going –
if you’re not afraid, then neither am I
,’ Nuwa said, slipping into English again.

Zhang Jie and Xiao Li came over and told us that Tang Guoxian had gone to the Workers’ Federation’s tent to join the Dare-to-Die Squad.

‘I now officially declare the Democracy University dissolved,’ Mou Sen said. Then he looked at Xiao Li and said, ‘Go and join Bai Ling on the upper terrace. It’s safer there.’

‘No, I want to stay down here and keep an eye on things.’ Xiao Li was now wearing a baseball cap over the bloodstained cloth tied around his wounded head.

‘Shu Tong shouldn’t have deserted us,’ Mou Sen said. ‘He’ll regret it for the rest of his life.’

‘Come on, let’s go to the Monument,’ I said, taking Tian Yi’s hand. ‘We can’t stay out here like disbanded soldiers. Come with us, Mou Sen. The army tanks will be rolling up here any minute.’

‘It’s too much. Has anyone got any fags?’ When Mou Sen looked up at me, his forehead became lined with wrinkles.

I reached into my pocket and gave him my packet of filter cigarettes. ‘There are only two left. Don’t smoke them all at once.’ Then I grabbed Tian Yi’s hand again and took her back to the Monument.

Almost everyone had retreated onto the Monument now. The rest of the Square was empty. I wondered where my brother was. I was worried. I didn’t want anything to happen to him.

A large mob had surrounded Bai Ling and Old Fu at the base of the Monument and had pushed Bai Ling’s two bodyguards away.

‘Dai Wei! Help me pull Bai Ling out!’ Big Chan yelled, waving to me.

I squeezed my way through. Angry students were pointing knives, guns and metal rods at Bai Ling’s face and shouting, ‘You want us to withdraw? We’ll kill you first! Do you know how many people have already sacrificed their lives for us tonight?’

A guy in a black vest was holding a gun to Bai Ling’s head. ‘Don’t listen to them. Tell the students to withdraw from the Square now, or I’ll shoot you. Enough people have died already.’

I had no weapons on me, so I didn’t dare fight them. All I said was, ‘There’s no use attacking Bai Ling. The decision about whether to remain or withdraw won’t be hers alone.’

A factory worker who had a wooden stick in his hand and a knife stuck in his belt said, ‘I’ll slit the throat of anyone who dares leave the Square!’

Tian Yi squeezed through, grabbed Bai Ling’s hand and shouted, ‘What are you thinking of, pointing a gun at a woman? Get out of here!’

‘Instead of attacking us, why not go and help the students who are getting injured at the barricades?’ Old Fu shouted.

The mob fell silent. As we pushed our way out, they cleared a path for us. Once we were free, we raced to the Monument’s upper terrace. When we got there, Bai Ling and Tian Yi slumped to the ground and burst into tears.

‘Where’ve you been, you two?’ Mimi said to them, stamping her foot in anger. ‘The Monument’s in chaos.’

‘We’ll have to do our broadcasts from up here now,’ Chen Di said, tugging the long lead of the microphone he’d just brought up. The broadcast station tent below was now surrounded by an impenetrable crowd.

‘Where can we escape to when the army arrives?’ Big Chan and Little Chan asked, walking over to me

I glanced around the terrace. A few foreign journalists were still milling about taking photographs of us. The students had instinctively huddled together, like fish that form a tight shoal when they sense the approach of a shark. The hunger strike tent stood in the centre of the terrace, peaceful as the eye of a storm. Everyone had forgotten about the three intellectuals and the famous rock star who were inside it.

I walked over to the tent, lifted the plastic curtain and peeped in. Shan Bo was lying down, his head resting on his girlfriend’s lap. The economist Zi Duo was lying flat on his stomach, while his girlfriend massaged his back. I couldn’t understand how they could lie so calmly while the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the Square.

Liu Gang was standing with Hai Feng and some other Beijing University students near the sculptured frieze at the base of the obelisk. ‘We’re enclosed within an outer circle of soldiers who want to drive us from the Square, and an inner circle of students and residents who refuse to let us leave. We’re trapped. All we can do now is wait here until the soldiers drag us away.’ He stamped on a basket of fresh flowers that had been crushed into the paving stones.

‘Let’s see what the four intellectuals think we should do,’ Hai Feng said, walking over to the hunger strike tent.

Wu Bin was with a gang of six or seven guys, all wearing red armbands and holding metal rods or wooden sticks. They looked like a special action squad. ‘The troops who’ve been sent to clear the Square have fought in Vietnam,’ I heard one of them say. ‘They’re wearing camouflage. They’re expert marksmen.’

‘If only we had some bayonets . . .’ said a small muscular guy in a white vest. He had a knife in his hand.

‘Are you crazy?’ I butted in. ‘The soldiers would shoot you dead if they saw you with one.’