Last Kiss in Tiananmen Square (26 page)

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Authors: Lisa Zhang Wharton

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Chinese

BOOK: Last Kiss in Tiananmen Square
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From the voice, strong and male-like, Baiyun realized that the lady who just read the message was her mother, Meiling. She was stunned. Meiling was among the brave students and ready to sacrifice her life. No longer being ashamed of seeing Meiling sitting on a motorcycle with a younger man, she ran toward them.

 

“Mother.”

 

“Baiyun, I’m so glad that I find you here. I have been looking for you,” she held Baiyun’s small face, “let mother look at you.”

 

“Mother, I’m Ok.” No wanting to be treated like a child, she pushed away Meiling’s hands.

 

“Ok. Stay here and be strong. Mother is proud of you.” Meiling reached over and hugged her. Then she took out a bag of hard-boiled eggs and handed them over to her.

 

“I’m a hunger striker, mother,” said Baiyun while trying to push away the eggs.

 

“You can save it for later.”

 

Lao Zheng took off his helmet and shook hands with Baiyun. He winked at her and Baiyun looked away immediately. She didn’t like the way Lao Zheng looked at her.

 

“Mother, I’m proud of you too.” Then she ran away because she could feel tears swelling in her eyes.

 

“This is your mom? Woo!” After Baiyun’s mother had left, Longfe and others cheered for Baiyun.

 

“So what? Where is your mother,” shouted Baiyun proudly.

 

“Our mothers are at home and praying for us. Your mother is the brave one. Hooray!” More cheers came from the crowd.

 

Baiyun felt proud. Meiling was no longer a mother she was ashamed of; a dirty woman and a whore like neighbors called her behind her back. Now she had a brave and patriotic woman as a mother. What more could she ask? She was also surprised that Meiling hugged her. This was the hug she had been waiting for many years. During the last ten years, she and Meiling were not very close. She disagreed and disliked Meiling’s life style. Meiling’s endless love affairs had caused embarrassment for Baiyun and her crazy old father. For years, she and Meiling’s relationship was business-like. They were business partners to run their household. Or rather Meiling was like a sick sister, who had screwed up her life and could not get back on track; a psychiatric patient who needed Baiyun to consistently confess her problems. Now she had Meiling back.

 

“Baiyun, you are crying. What has happened to you?” asked Dagong.

 

Baiyun did not answer. She started dozing off again. She felt peaceful here at the square in the middle of the chaos, especially with Dagong.

 

After several hours, Baiyun opened her eyes. Dagong was still cradling her head, but with his eyes closed. She saw the sunrise. The sun emitted rays of lights into the eastern sky like streaks of red dye. She suddenly felt that she was sitting on top of a mountain. The Forbidden City and the Monument People’s Hero had turned into golden palaces in the distance. Thousands of sleeping people on the square had become rocks. The wind blew her matted hair and it felt so fresh.

 

“Dagong, Dagong, where are we? Are we still alive?” Baiyun tried to wake up Dagong.

 

“What?” Dagong opened his sleepy eyes, “what are you asking?”

 

“Do you know where we are? Are we still alive?”

 

“In Tiananmen Square. We are still alive!” Dagong exclaimed.

 

“Oh, we are not in paradise? We are still alive? I’m so disappointed,” pretended Baiyun.

 

Then they both jumped up and hugged each other. Then Longfe and Yumei came over.

 

“We are still alive! We are still alive!” Students, one after another rose up under their thick blankets, and cheered. They were so happy that the government troops didn’t come in, clear up the square and cause the bloodshed.

 

A new day had started under such an enthusiasm. It was like a big victory, a huge triumph for simply being alive.

 

Soon an order came from the United Student federation leaders that everyone, and especially the hunger strikers move to the east side of the square.

 

In order to show the government that they were negotiating in good faith and did not mean to disrupt the first Sino-Soviet summit in thirty years, the student federation was still trying to clear the square or at least the part of it. Of course, it was too late. It was just too chaotic in the square. People asked all sort of questions. “Where is the eastside?” “Why do we have to move?” When someone began to move, others soon filled up the vacancy. Somehow, they moved the hunger strikers to join the students from other colleges.

 

After eating and drinking something, Big Li had recovered and was strong enough to join the Hunger Strike again. The radio station moved too. Baiyun decided to follow the hunger strikers because they were the biggest news. She switched to be a reporter again from a hunger striker just temporarily. Yumei and Longfe were still holding the fort as hunger strikers despite of Yumei’s poor health. The number of hunger strikers had drastically increased since last night. The number jumped from 300 to near 1000 among just Beijing University students alone.

 

Yumei hugged Baiyun and said, “Well, I guess our big journalist needs to stay strong and well fed.”

 

“Yumei, I admire you. Be careful,” said Baiyun, finding tears around her eyes, “Dagong went home to get some blankets. Maybe I will return to the Beida Hunger Strike group tonight.”

 

Then Baiyun pulled Yumei to the side and whispered into her ears, “Dagong is married, his seven-year old son was lost in the square and his wife has gone crazy.” Baiyun looked straight into Yumei’s eyes waiting for her reaction.

 

“My God, your life is soooo complicated. I guess misery always looks for company,” said Yumei sympathetically. “You are a big girl and you can deal with it.” Yumei bumped her shoulder to Baiyun’s.

 

“But how should I deal with it?” yelled Baiyun. She couldn’t believe Yumei’s reaction. This was her happiness they were talking about. In the last few days she had been so happy thinking her white prince had finally arrived. Yet the happiness was so short-lived and it was going to slip away soon. Maybe Meiling was right. It was not worth a while to suffer through the pain.

 

“All my life I just want peace. You see what I end up getting?” Baiyun started sobbing.

 

“It is because you are crazy and weird,” Yumei’s voice was getting louder.

 

“I agree with you one hundred percent!” answered Baiyun.

 

“Baiyun, don’t worry. You should enjoy while you can. Who knows how long we are going to be alive,” said Yumei while looking deeply into Baiyun’s eyes. She gave Baiyun one more hug and walked away to join the other hunger strikers.

 

As usually, Baiyun decided to concentrate on the work at the news center to deal with the current crisis. Since so many people had joined the hunger strike, she felt that the News Center needed her even more to cover such an important historical event. At this time, she enjoyed being an individual. Besides she liked being a journalist. Dagong has been serving as the sole radio repairman at the News Center besides being the head of the Beijing Worker’s Union and the leader of hunger strikers among the workers. But he had to deal with his own family crisis first.

 

By the time they set up the news center again, it was already 11:00am. There was still no sign of Gorbachev. Then the news came in through the radio broadcast. The welcome ceremony had taken place at the airport instead of Tiananmen Square. Then she heard Dagong organized a worker’s water fast behind a group of students who had poured gasoline on their bodies and were ready to set themselves on fire. They were protesting Government’s refusal to conduct a direct dialogue with the students.

 

“Where are Dagong and his water fast group?” Baiyun asked Broomstick, a messenger on the motorcycle.

 

“They are in front of the Zhongnanhai compound, right in the center of the power.”

 

Baiyun nodded. Zhongnanhai was the top Chinese official’s residence. Protesting in front of it meant visibility and danger, which, of course, was no longer an issue. Most people here on the square were either thinking about death or ready to die.

 

Broomstick, moving closer, asked Baiyun “Are you Dagong’s girlfriend?”

 

“Yes,” said Baiyun. Baiyun felt proud even though Dagong was married. But at this time of life and death, details like that didn’t seem to matter.

 

“You’d better get there soon. They have been there for almost two hours. They refuse to eat or drink anything. People were pouring water onto their faces but they refused it. And some of those students could set themselves on fire anytime,” said Broomstick anxiously.

 

Baiyun jumped onto the back of Broomstick’s scooter and raced to the Zhongnanhai compound as fast as she could. “Self Immolation - Burning oneself to death” was an idea that appalled Baiyun. Baiyun’s aunt had burnt herself to death by pouring gasoline all over her in a bathtub due to a psychological condition originated during the Cultural Revolution. Although she was not there when it happened, the event had given her many nightmares.

 

Baiyun had to jump off the scooter half mile from the Zhongnanhai compound. With the number of people surrounding it, it was impossible to go forward. Fortunately with her special radio station pass, she was able to go through the crowd to get to the front.

 

Sitting in a row behind a white line were five young men with shaved heads. They wore monks’ gray cotton robs and sat cross-legged. They held their palms together right in front of their noses. Their gasoline-coved heads were shining under the sun like huge pearls. Their robes had been drenched with gasoline. A cigarette lighter was located in front of them. Behind them was a row of water fast workers who wore white shirts and black pants. They sat in the same gesture as the front row protesters with their backs erect and heads slightly bowed.

 

At this moment, Dagong was arguing with a soldier whose bayonets directly pointed at Dagong’s neck. There were a dozen soldiers with rifles in their hands guarding the gate to the Zhongnanhai compound.

 

“What do you want?” said the soldier.

 

“I want to go inside.” Dagong’s voice sounded hoarse.

 

“What for?”

 

“Do you see people are dying? Do you have … eyes to see that?” At his emotional peak, Dagong was stuttering, “These…these precious students are preparing to burn themselves to death!” He shouted and his neck even touched the tip of the bayonet a few more times, “I want to talk to a government official!”

 

“Who are you?” an officer came out of the gate.

 

“I’m the head of the Beijing Workers Union.”

 

“Ok, come here.”

 

Dagong followed him closer to the gate. The soldiers stepped aside.

 

“Dagong! Dagong!” Zhang Ping showed up at this moment. Restrained by several people holding her arms, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

 

“Who is that? Is that woman calling you?” asked the officer.

 

“Yes,” Dagong looked at the direction where the voice came from, “That’s my wife. We just lost a child.”

 

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” said the officer with a smirk.

 

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. You should feel sorry for these students.” Dagong raised his voice again.

 

“But you know the central committee members are busy now,” said the officer with a fake smile. He looked calm. One could tell that he had been through this kind of situation many times.

 

“What can be more urgent than this?” Dagong walked closer to him and cornered him against the wall. “Look at these students. Do you know that they are suffering?” Dagong pointed his arm toward the demonstrators.

 

“Two water fast demonstrators just fainted.” Someone yelled in the crowd.

 

“Can you hear this? Do you have ears?”

 

The official nodded and didn’t say anything.

 

Suddenly the crowd moved away from Dagong toward the demonstrators.

 

“Stop the fire! Oh, my God!”

 

Dagong darted toward the crowd. It was obvious that someone had started burning himself.

 

Baiyun was stunned while this was happening. Always proud of herself as a tough girl, the scene in front of her was a little too much. Her head was expanding. She felt dizzy after several days of exhaustion. All she could do was trying hard to memorize every detail that was happening here. Her brain was like a rusty machine cranking along.

 

First she saw Dagong facing the soldier’s bayonet by the gate of the Zhongnanhai compound. Before she could join him, she heard his wife Zhang Ping’s screaming. Then she saw the fire rising in front of her face. She had to admit that she covered her eyes for a moment to avoid seeing the burning demonstrator. But she could still hear the demonstrator’s warning and people’s shouting. The figure in the fire was glowing. The yellowish fire surrounded him like a ring, and gradually it had engulfed him. His bald head was smooth and his gray robe was rapidly disappearing. His hands were folding together, praying with his eyes closed. Like a Buddha toward the incarnation, his ashes were rising toward the heaven.

 

“Baiyun, Baiyun.” Baiyun opened her eyes and found herself held tight by Dagong. He was holding a water cup in his hand. His face had narrowed even more. The stubble on his face made him look wild. She liked it. Her hands touched his prickly beard.

 

“Baiyun, welcome to the world. You have scared us,” said Dagong.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“We are back to the Beida station again.”

 

“What has happened to the student who burnt himself?”

 

“Oh, he is alright. We put out the fire on his body by throwing blankets at him and pouring water on him. He was sent to a hospital. He suffered third degree burns. The Government agreed to hold another talk with the students. Right now the dialogue delegation is having a meeting with the government at the United Front office,” said Dagong in a rapid pace.

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