Last Kiss in Tiananmen Square (22 page)

“Yes, except for the reddish sun. Do you think the sun looks like a heart soaked in blood?” Baiyun was not in a good mood.

“Don’t just dwell on your painful past. You will feel better in a while. Nature has the power to heal.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Let me tell you my story. More than 20 years ago, because of my family background, the Beijing University and all the other universities rejected me despite of my excellent academic record and my high test-scores in the college entrance exams. I rode my bicycle here and found a bench like this one. I sat there and stared into the lake for the whole day. I thought about committing suicide. Then the magic happened. Gradually the lake in front of me turned into an underworld, which was full of life and nature, where birds were singing and people were dancing. I began to communicate with the trees and the earth around me. They seemed all whispered one sentence to me, ‘There is hope! There is hope!’” This sentence slipped out of Dagong’s mouth unconsciously like steams running down the hill. He stared at the lake as though that magic was happening again, but this time for them.

It was completely dark. The lights and stars had become candles on the calm lake. It looked like a ceremony was going on in the underworld. They both heard a voice floating up from the lake, solemn and graceful.

“On a bright and sunny day in May, we are going on a hunger strike. We are young but we are ready to give up our lives. We don’t want to die so in our youth, but our country suffers from so many wrongs.”

“They are the hunger strikers! They are the hunger strikers!” Baiyun cheered proudly. She stretched her arms and leaned forward as though she was ready to join the group.

Chapter 13

By 8pm, Dagong made it home on his bicycle. Everyone was having dinner and the smell of food was pungent. The first family he saw was Lao Liu’s family who were sitting around a little table in the yard eating stir-fried pork with cabbage and rice. They all nodded to Dagong.

“Wow. You are back. You know Zhang Ping has been looking for you the whole day.” Lao Liu put down his chopsticks and turned toward him. “I think you are in for a punishment.” He made a face.

“Don’t scare him,” said his wife Wu Zheng. “She understands you need to organize the workers and support the students. Look at your head. You are still bleeding. I can see blood seeping through the bandage. Let me find a new one for you.” Wu Zheng ran into her apartment.

“How is the square?” asked Lili. She wore a polka dot summer dress and looked beautiful.

“It’s getting crowded. Students from many colleges and universities have moved here and pitched tents in Tiananmen Square. It is like a county fair over there. Farmers brought their pigs, goats, cats and dogs performing tricks. I have seen quite amazing Qigong tricks.” Dagong sat down so Wu Zheng could take off the old bandage around his head and wrap a new one.

“It’s not a country fair. You guys are crazy!” Lao Liu yelled.

“Calm down, Lao Liu,” said Wu Zheng. “It looks like people would win this time.”

“Soldiers are not doing anything. They just stand there and make sure everything goes smoothly. It looks like they are told not to do anything. People are not afraid. It is really different this time. It is as though someone has sprayed laughing gas all over the square to intoxicate the people or they are just intoxicated by the wind of democracy,” said Dagong.

Lao Liu noticed Dagong had become much more confidant and he waved his hands while talking. “Yes. The soldiers are told not to do anything because the political leaders are conflicted. Currently the General Secretary Zhao Ziyang is ahead. He can speak positively about the student unrest in the Asia Development Bank. He can openly support the students. But how long would that last? They would let students partying for a while and having some fun. When they decide enough is enough, they would be able to clean up very quickly. The soldiers are there with guns and the tanks are not far away. You will see.” Then he stood up. “Let’s me show you something.” He stood up and dropped the cat down. The cat made noise, arched his back and jumped on the stone railing of the fishpond.

Lao Liu stuck his head out of the door and yelled, “Dagong, come in and I will show you a video.”

Dagong obeyed.

Lili jumped up and asked, “Mom, can I go and find my friends in the square? I will be back soon. Please. Let me go before Father gets out and locks me up again.” Her big and beautiful eyes were so sincere that they almost could melt Wu Zheng’s heart.

“Ok. I will go with you.” Wu Zheng quickly cleaned the dishes and was ready to go.

“Why? I’m old enough to go alone. I’m seventeen. Have you forgotten?”

“I know. If I don’t go with you, your father will be shouting at me and asking me to find you. Where do I find you in this vast place? This way, at least I know where you are. Do you want to go or not?” Wu Zhang started walking toward the gate.

“Ok.” Realizing this was her only choice, Lili followed.

Now Lao Liu and Dagong walked out.

“You see. They have videos of everyone there. They have videos of you, your student friends, Pumpkin, Broomstick, even Potatofeet.” Then he lowered his voice. “The only person I don’t see is Mr. Wang.”

“I thought he had been going there a lot,” said Dagong.

“Yes. I think he works for the government. He has installed many cameras for them so he knows where the cameras are and where not to show up. You see in the end, these would be evidence to arrest whoever they want.” Lao Liu walked down the steps and then he stopped suddenly putting his hand on his chest as though he had a heart attack. “Where is Lili? Where is Wu Zheng?” He yelled so loud that even the cat was woken up from its nap.

“They went to the square. Lili was stir-crazy. Wu Zheng decided to follow her.” Little Pea walked over with a plate of food in her hands and told him the news about his wife and daughter.

“Crazy. Everyone is crazy. I guess I have to show my old face there.” Lao Liu raced out of the gate.

When Dagong was just about to venture into his apartment to see where Zhang Ping and Little Turnip were hiding, he heard the door slam and Zhang Ping rushed out looking disheveled. Her permed hair was randomly bunched up by a hair clip and looking like a bird nest. A half-buttoned white shirt loosely hung over a pair of faded baggy jeans and revealed her shallow cleavage. Makeup was smudged all over her face along with sweat and the day’s soil.

“My dear Dagong. It’s so good that you came back.” She came down the steps and fell on his shoulder. “I have been waiting for you the whole day and just fell asleep before you got here.”

Dagong helped her walk to the bench and they both sat down. She leaned toward Dagong and cupped his head in her hands.

“Oh. Look at your black eye and the fresh scars. You look like a Pirate!” Then she started to unbutton his shirt.

“Maybe we should go inside,” said Dagong.

“No. I want everyone to see how a handsome man you are!” Zhang Ping ripped his shirt off from him. She turned and leaped up to the center of the yard. “You are out there and participating in the pro-democracy movement. You nearly sacrifice your life for it. You forget about your wife and son. I will forgive you for that because it is hard not to be swept into this exciting movement and to have a chance to be a leader. But how can you forget about the past, the suffering you have gone through in the previous political movements because of your family background? Do you remember when we first met, when you were working as a janitor in the Beijing Zoo? When we found you outside of the bathroom you were cleaning, you looked so thin and your face was yellow. We thought you had Hepatitis B. Dad and I took you to the clinic to check you up. It turned out that you were just malnourished. When Dad told you he would get you out of there and assign you a job in his factory, you cried. I still remember the teardrops on your handsome but dry and tan face. Come on. We don’t need a revolution. We have suffered so much already. We need food and housing. So people like Little Pea and Yu Gang can get married and have their own apartment.” She went to sit next to Dagong and turned to face him hitting his chest. “Why don’t you understand?” Tears streamed down on her cringed but colorful face.

“Mom.” Little Turnip rushed out of their apartment and fell into Zhang Ping’s chest so she would stop pounding on Dagong’s chest.

Dagong looked into the yard feeling touched by his wife. He was not surprised that his son didn’t recognize him since he had not been home much lately. Kids forget things very quickly. Yes. What would this revolution bring to him? He didn’t know but all he knew was that it had gathered up so much momentum that no one could stop it. Maybe they are onto something this time, he said to himself. But Zhang Ping still lived in the past. She didn’t understand why he joined this pro-democracy movement. She wanted him to stay home and study TOFEL. So they could go to America. He didn’t have a clear vision why he was in this movement. All he knew was that he had never been this free and this happy. When the movement was over and successful, he could still go to America. At that time, he would be a much freer man hopefully. He would like to get a divorce. But Zhang Ping was too fragile now. He decided not to mention it.

Broomstick stepped in with Potatofeet. They both carried helmets in their hands. Pumpkin sauntered over to them and shouted, “You can come home to eat when your bellies grumble. I have food for you. I’m not yelling at you. You two are heroes.”

She went into the kitchen and brought out some pork steamed buns, stir-fried cabbage and Tofu soup.

“What is new, my heroes?” asked Pumpkin.

“We zoomed around the square passing messages. It was fun. Even Potatofeet enjoyed it, right?” said Broomstick after swallowing two steamed buns quickly.

“It was… was fun. I get to sit on the back of the motorcycle while…while Broomstick goes…goes around to pass…pass the messages.”

“So you can watch the bike, you dummy.” Broomstick was so proud of himself to make use of his brother.

“That…’s what…what I thou..ght, smart…brother,” said Potatofeet. He finally wobbled to a chair by the square wooden table and sat down. He took the last two steamed-pork buns, one in each hand and swallowed them down.

“What’s the news?” asked Pumpkin after sitting down herself.

“The Government is still unwilling to have dialogue with the student leaders. So they’ve decided to stage a full scale hunger strike.” In order to demonstrate what a hunger striker was like, he jumped up and knelt on the concrete ground with two hands clasping in front of his nose looking solemn.

“Hunger strike! That’s dangerous.” She wiped her face with a towel and said, “I was going to make more steamed pork buns but it looks I don’t have to.”

“Ya. It would be easy. But I would still be eating. So please still make some for us messengers.” Broomstick sat down realizing this was not joke.

“Pretty soon, no one would be eating. Everyone would like to be a hunger striker,” said Pumpkin.

“What hunger striker? You are all crazy.” Marshmallows came out of the apartment door and joined in.

“Not us. The students will,” said Pumpkin.

“Yes. They are insane. In the end, they will all be rolled over by the tanks and die,” then he turned to Pumpkin, “What do you think the probability of this happening?”

“This is revolution, not gambling.” Pumpkin stood up and went inside leaving the rest of family seating around the table silent.

“How about playing a game of ‘Catching Black Seven’?” Marshmallow suggested looking at his sons with a forced grin.

“Sure,” answered Broomstick and Potatofeet unenthusiastically.

Now Mr. Wang just scurried in. He walked fast and avoided eye contact with everyone. As soon as he walked through the beaded curtains to get into his apartment, he was in trouble.

“Why are you back so late?” said Mrs. Wang angrily.

“I have a lot of work to do,” which was Mr. Wang’s timid voice.

“Working. Nobody works now. Are you telling the truth? Oh.” The sound of spanking could be heard.

Chapter 14

Baiyun was awakened at 7am by the alarm. She sat right up. Today is a big day for the hunger strikers, she told herself. Even though she would be merely reporting on the Hunger Strike, her friends Yumei, Longfe and Big Li all had made the commitment. Yumei and Li Yan leapt out of the beds, too. They quickly got ready. Wenjing woke up, too. As usual, she didn’t get up with others.

“I may join you later. I need to lose some weight,” said Wenjing and hid her head back under the blanket.

Yumei put on a white T-shirt and a pair of black pants, the official hunger striker uniform. Baiyun decided to put on a red shirt and blue jeans for lucks. Red meant good luck in Chinese culture. Li Yan wore a white T-shirt and blues jeans in order to be casual.

“Let’s bring our radios. If the Government finally agrees to have dialogue with the student leaders as demanded by the Student Dialogue Committee and the United Student Federation and broadcast it through the official radio station, we would hear about it,” said Yumei. “Let’s go to the Last Supper, except this time it is the Last Breakfast for some of us,” said Yumei.