Read Nanjing Requiem Online

Authors: Ha Jin

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Historical, #History, #Asia, #China

Nanjing Requiem (10 page)

BOOK: Nanjing Requiem
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Then more than ten soldiers rushed up and pushed the Americans into the jeep. Two men clutched Minnie’s arms and forced her into the passenger seat, but she scrambled out, throwing up her hand and shouting at the sergeant, “Damn it, this is my home! I have nowhere to go.”

“Me either!” Holly cried out, gripping the top of the tailgate and refusing to get in the car. “My house was burned down by your Imperial Army, and I’ve become a refugee, still waiting for you to make reparations.” Her eyes widened fiercely and her face flushed with rage.

George interpreted their words loudly to the sergeant, who then ordered all the foreign men to leave at once.

Several rifles were trained on the three men, who climbed into the jeep. Lewis waved to assure us that everything would be all right. Slowly they pulled away.

The sergeant cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at George’s back,
“Au revoir!”

Two of his men yipped delightedly.

As soon as the vehicle disappeared, women’s cries and muffled screams came from inside the wall. Through the gate I saw some Japanese hauling people toward our campus’s side exit. The small ironclad gate there was always locked, so it must have been forced open. I looked around and caught sight of machine guns posted at the windows across the street. For some reason the soldiers at the front entrance suddenly withdrew, taking with them only Luhai and the hefty “coal carrier,” and then trucks started revving their engines beyond the southern wall—
kakh-kakh-kakh-kakh
. I realized that the Japanese had held all the responsible staff here while other soldiers were seizing people inside the campus. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a machine gun still propped there, and I dared not move a muscle, my heart beating in my throat.

We were still kneeling, some sobbing. For a long time no one stirred. I glanced at Minnie and Holly, whose heads sagged, their eyes nailed to the ground.

Then Big Liu ran over, shouting, “Minnie, Minnie, they took some people from East Court.”

“Who are the people?” She got up to her feet.

“I can’t say for sure.”

At that, I jumped up and raced away, my head in a whirl. Some people followed me while I was running and running, my steps as unsteady as if I were treading clouds. I hoped nothing had happened to my family.

Everything was topsy-turvy in my home, tables and chairs overturned and the floors scattered with utensils, books, shoes, tableware, and laundered clothes. All the paintings were gone from the walls, and nobody was there. “Oh, I’m sorry, Anling,” Minnie said. Her voice suggested she assumed that all my family had been taken.

In spite of my fitful sobs, I told myself that Liya was coolheaded, and they might still be somewhere on campus. It never pays to get upset ahead of time.

I didn’t see any trace of struggle—nothing was smashed or crushed—so there was a possibility that my family had escaped abduction. But where were they?

Then my husband and Liya, with Fanfan in her arms, appeared in the doorway. “Mom” was all she could say. Her oval face was ghastly pale and her eyes flared. Her bangs and brow were wet with perspiration.

“They almost caught us,” Yaoping told me, shaking his grizzled head.

“Thank God you’re safe,” Minnie said.

Liya told us that the instant they heard the commotion on campus, they slipped out of East Court and ran into a ditch behind an apartment house under construction, hiding among the refugees there. I closed my eyes, held my hands together, and said, “Lord, thank you so much for returning my family to me!”

Then Big Liu’s wife came and wailed, “They took Meiyan, our daughter!” The small, round-faced woman pressed her right flank with her hand as though in severe pain. Her husband was behind her, wordless and in shock, his lumpy face bathed in tears and sweat.

The girl was fifteen and used to be a good helper in the kindergarten. We had no idea how to console her parents. If only we hadn’t been held at bay by the soldiers and had been able to stay on the campus to stop the abductors. Now what could we say to Big Liu and his wife? I glanced at Minnie, who seemed to be struggling with the same question but couldn’t find words. No matter what, she must say something.

Finally she announced: “I’ll go to the Japanese embassy first thing tomorrow morning. They must return our people immediately.”

No one responded.

I left with Minnie to look at the other parts of campus and to make sure that the south exit was locked again. At the Central Building we ran into Rulian and two women staffers. They told us that in total twelve girls had been taken, and all the refugees in the building were terrified. I noticed Yanying, the young woman who had arrived a week ago in disguise as an old man, patting her little sister Yanping’s back and whispering to the girl. The child couldn’t stop crying, probably because what had just happened reminded her of the havoc back home. Around us, several voices were cursing and wailing. Minnie and I couldn’t stop our tears either. What’s worse, we didn’t even know most of the names of the abducted girls.

Half an hour later we went to the Practice Hall. To our amazement, we found Miss Lou talking with Luhai. “Thank God you’re back, Luhai!” Minnie cried. “How did you manage to escape?”

“I told an old interpreter that my wife was giving birth and I showed him I had a crippled leg. They saw me walk with a limp, so they checked my knee and let me go after the interpreter spoke with an officer. I owe my life to that old gentleman.”

“What happened to the other fellow, the ‘coal carrier’?”

“They kept him.”

Despite Luhai’s steady voice, I could see that he was shaken, his forehead bruised and his lips livid. Together the four of us went to the gatehouse, then to the cottage nearby where his family lived. Seeing him, his wife wept with joy and said, “I thought they were gonna kill you. Thank heaven you’re back!”

Before Miss Lou left, we prayed together for the safety of the twelve girls and for the life of “the coal carrier.” How earnest our voices were, and how we longed for a miracle.

After that, Minnie and I went to the front entrance. We stayed in the gatehouse that night, catnapping in rattan chairs in case the soldiers came again. A voice kept rising in my mind: “Lord, when will you hearken to our prayers? When will you show your wrath?” From time to time I woke up and heard Minnie muttering “Beasts! Beasts!”

AT THE CRACK OF DAWN
the blast of an automobile horn shook me awake. I sat up with a start, my heart palpitating, and I heard a truck moaning away. Minnie got up too. We went out and saw Luhai hurrying over. Together we turned to the main entrance. Some women were shaking the gate and shouting, “Open it, please let us in!”

To our surprise, we found six girls, all carried off by the Japanese the previous night, standing there, their hair mussed and their faces tear-smeared. Luhai unbolted the small side gate at once. “Come in!” Minnie said, and beckoned them. She held the shoulder of Meiyan, Big Liu’s strapping daughter, and told her, “Your parents were devastated when they found you were gone. Thank goodness you’re back.”

The bespectacled girl nodded without speaking. Minnie asked them how they’d been mistreated. They all said that the Japanese had slapped them, pinched their faces, and pulled their hair, but had not molested them otherwise. By that, they meant they hadn’t been raped, as most local girls wouldn’t use the word “rape” bluntly. Minnie was glad to hear that. “What a miracle!” she said, and must have attributed this to our earnest prayers the night before.

I could not believe that the Japanese would let these young girls return without doing something terrible to them, but I kept mum, not wanting to deflate Minnie’s elation. There’d been so many heartbreaking happenings these days that she deserved to be happy for a moment.

Meiyan told the people gathering in her parents’ apartment that the Japanese had sent the other six girls, the better-looking ones, to a hotel where some officers stayed, while the remaining six of them had been put on the truck and sent back. We’d heard that yesterday many high-ranking officers were in town for the victory ceremony.

10

T
HAT MORNING
Liya didn’t get up early as she usually did; she said she had cramps in her abdomen. I felt her forehead and body—she was burning hot. As I carried a mug of tea to her, she said her pajamas were wet. I took a look and found blood and bits of dead tissue in the discharge. She’d miscarried! I told Yaoping to heat a pot of water while I helped Liya undress.

“When did the cramps start?” I asked her.

“Last night.”

“Why didn’t you let your dad know?”

“I thought I’d be all right after a night of sleep. Is the baby gone, Mom?”

“Looks like it. You must’ve run too hard yesterday evening and hurt yourself.”

“I feel like hell.” She sobbed, her eyes shut. “The Japs killed my baby, and I must even the score with them.”

“Hush, let’s worry about how to make you get well soon.” I felt like crying too, but choked the tears back by squeezing my eyes.

“I don’t want to live any more.”

“Stop that nonsense. We need you.”

While Liya was rambling and writhing in pain, I continued working on her. I wrapped the bloody mess in rags and washed and wiped her with a hand towel. I wondered whether the dead fetus had all come out or whether she might need curetting or some other treatment. Under normal circumstances we could have sent for a specialized nurse, but all the OB clinics were closed. I told Yaoping to leave Fanfan with our neighbor and then carry Liya to our school’s infirmary on the back of his Flying Pony bicycle. As father and daughter started out, I followed them, holding Liya’s shoulder with one hand to keep her steady.

The nurse examined her and said that the miscarriage looked complete. Even if Liya needed a curettage, the nurse couldn’t help her, never having performed that procedure before. What Liya must do was rest in bed for at least two weeks, as it was generally believed that a miscarriage weakened a woman more than an actual birth, and she should avoid spicy, pickled, and cold food. She must abstain from sex for a whole month. I almost yelled at the nurse, who didn’t know that my son-in-law wasn’t home, to shut up. Liya needed to eat something nutritious, such as eggs, warm milk, chicken, seafood, pork tripe and liver, fresh fruits. Where on earth could we get any of those now?

Somehow I’d kept a small bag of millet and a bottle of brown sugar in my office. I gave those to Yaoping and told him to cook millet porridge and mix in some sugar for Liya. He should also bake some dried anchovies for her and make sure she ate regularly. After putting her to bed, I returned to the refugee camp.

MINNIE ASKED
Big Liu to go to the Japanese embassy with her to protest the abduction of the girls. At first, he was reluctant, his eyes blazing behind his glasses. I urged him to keep her company and he agreed. He had a dignified bearing and was tactful in dealing with people, so she might feel more confident if he went with her.

Outside the front gate scores of old women were gathering and begging to be admitted into the camp. The moment Minnie and Big Liu appeared, the crowd calmed down a bit. Minnie came up to Holly and me. We’d been speaking to some older women from the neighborhood, trying to persuade them to go back home so as to save room, if there was any left here, for young women and children.

“But I have no place to go,” a sixtyish woman cried at me.

“Damn it,” another voice shouted. “The Japs assault old women too! Old crones are also humans.”

Minnie told us, “Let them in. But make it clear that they can stay only in the open air.”

“We have more than seven thousand already,” Holly said. “If we take them all, there won’t be an empty spot left on campus.”

“We have no choice now.”

As we began admitting the new arrivals, Minnie and Big Liu started out for the Japanese embassy, a twenty-minute walk. I had gone to that shabby two-story building four years ago, together with my son, Haowen, who had applied for a long-term residency visa for his studies in Japan. He had enrolled in Nippon Medical School two years before and wanted to become a doctor. He was still in Tokyo, though we hadn’t heard from him for more than seven months. Ever since the outbreak of the war, his letters had stopped. Both his father and I were worried about him, but we couldn’t say this to others, especially to our Chinese colleagues. We only hoped he was well and safe. My husband had studied Asian history in Japan and could speak Japanese, but rarely would he use the language. Nobody at Jinling knew about our family’s current connection with Japan except for Dr. Wu, but I was certain that she’d keep this confidential as long as I remained loyal to her.

Around noon, Minnie and Big Liu returned in a car. On their way, they had stopped at the closed U.S. embassy, and a Chinese secretary, who had been paid to stay behind with a couple of local staffers to look after the premises, had assigned a Cadillac to take Minnie and Big Liu to the Japanese embassy so they could arrive in style—the secretary had said that the Japanese were highly sensitive to pomp, so Minnie, as the head of an American college, should impress them with something grand, and therefore a sizable sedan was a necessity for their visit. Seeing the midnight blue car crawling to a halt outside the main entrance, I handed a staffer the half bucket of boiled yams I’d been giving away to starving kids, stepped closer to the gate, and watched Minnie and Big Liu get out of the vehicle.

Minnie gave the Chinese chauffeur a silver yuan, but the man pushed it back and said, “I can’t take money from you, Principal Vautrin.”

“Why not?”

“We’re all beholden to you. If not for you foreigners who stayed behind and set up the refugee zone, all the Chinese here would’ve been wiped out. If not killed by the Japanese, many would’ve starved to death. Miss Hua, please don’t tip me.” He called Minnie by her Chinese name, Hua Chuan, the phonetic translation of Vautrin. He adjusted his duckbill cap to cover his teary eyes and slouched away, still waving his hand as though to shield his contorted face. He climbed into the car, its fender planted with a U.S. flag, and drove away.

BOOK: Nanjing Requiem
12.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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