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Authors: Ha Jin

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BOOK: Ocean of Words
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“No, I have to go back this afternoon.”

He narrowed his small eyes and waved his hairy hand, signaling me to come closer. I moved my chair a little forward and rested my elbows on his desk. A young officer was filing something on top of a metal chest five meters away.

“By the way,” he said mysteriously, “how do you get along with Diao Shu?”

“Not bad. He’s a smart man who knows how to use words.”

“Old Gao, we are country boys and don’t have many tricks in our heads. Be cautious about Diao.”

“Why? What have you heard?”

“Don’t ask me why. I cannot tell you. Have you ever thought of going home? I don’t mean for a break.”

“You mean to be demobilized?”

He smiled, blinking his eyes, and put his index finger across his lips.

I stood up and said, “Old Liu, thank you for the talk.”

“I thank you for the cigarettes.” He got to his feet. “You can tell Niu Hsi to prepare himself to go.”

Coming out of the headquarters at about two o’clock, I strolled to the bus station. I was surprised by what Liu had told me. It seemed that Diao had got up some little maneuvers against me. What did he do? And why did he do it? I could not tell. According to Chief Liu, I might be demobilized. I had never done anything irresponsible or offensive to Diao. How come he held a grudge against me?

The streets were covered with gray snow trampled hard by footsteps and vehicles. Some Korean women went by pulling handcarts, and each cart was loaded with a huge rectangular block of ice. They sang work songs and cracked jokes, which I could tell by their hearty laughter. Trucks blew horns some blocks away; the iron wheels of bullock carts clanked here and there.

At the corner of the movie house, the only one in Hutou Town, about fifty people gathered looking at something. Since the bus would not depart until three, I went over to see what was there. On the bulletin board was a large notice, and some people at the back were pushing forward in order to read its contents. From a distance of twenty meters, I felt that the first picture on the white sheet looked like Dragon Head, so I elbowed my way through the crowd to have a closer view.

It was Dragon Head! His face, crossed by two red strokes, was swollen, and there were some dark patches and small cuts on his forehead and cheeks. His eyes resembled those of a dead fish, while his lips were much thicker than they had been. His long, disheveled hair stuck out in all directions, which made his head seem twice its normal size. Somehow the photograph, once looked at closely, appeared less like Dragon Head than what I had seen from farther back. Beneath him stood a line of characters in boldface: “A Criminal Who Stole Military Equipment.” I was shocked and read the charge:

Long Yun, male, 29, from a poor peasant family, has stolen numerous pieces of military equipment, including army clothes, two transceivers, two semiautomatic rifles, etc. The stolen objects have been recovered, and Criminal Long could not deny his crime in the face of the ironclad evidence. For three years, Criminal Long, also called Dragon Head, has commanded his men as a group of idlers, disrupting the agricultural production and sabotaging the national defense. He lorded over several villages and is known in Hutou County as a local tyrant. In order to quiet the anger of the common citizens and to secure the iron bastion of our country’s border front, this court has decided to sentence Criminal Long to death. The execution is to be carried out promptly.

With Dragon Head there were three other men to be executed. One had raped two women, another had embezzled twenty thousand
yuan
, and the third had stolen fourteen bicycles.

I started cursing Diao in my mind. Whatever the reason, Dragon Head did not deserve capital punishment. He used to be our friend and would fight any battle for us; now, two years later he was dispatched as an enemy. Even a dog shouldn’t be treated this way. During my stay in Longmen I had called Diao a few times and asked about Dragon Head’s case at least twice, but each time Diao had assured me that he would handle it properly and advised me to concentrate on the study. Now Dragon Head had been executed; how could Diao call this outcome proper!

When I got back to my battalion, I went to the commissar’s office directly. Diao sat at his desk writing something. At the sight of me, he stood up, holding out his hand. “Old Gao, you’re back. How was the study?”

“Not bad.” We shook hands. “Commissar Diao, I saw the police notice in Hutou Town; so Dragon Head is dead. Why did you do this? It’s too despicable!”

“Old Gao, how the hell can you blame me for it?” he said in a high voice. “I didn’t want him dead either. I told all the villagers the same thing last week, and now I must repeat it to you: If I could have saved him I would have done it. It was a matter of human life; I want nobody to be killed. He had bad luck and was caught in the middle of the campaign cracking down on crimes. One man who stole bicycles was executed too. But Dragon Head stole guns! If you were here, you couldn’t have done anything either.”

I went out and flung the door shut. Diao always talked well, but I could not believe him anymore. With his tongue he could take in the villagers from Guanmen but not me this time, although I didn’t know how to argue with him.

Having considered what he had said for a short while, I had to admit his words were not totally groundless. Even if he had tried, Diao could by no means have stopped the whole plot. At most, he had served as a secret camera and an official informant on Dragon Head.

Before dinner I got hold of Scribe Niu Hsi and asked him what he knew. We walked out of the barracks. Hard snow squeaked beneath our feet while we were climbing the hill. “The day after you left,” Niu Hsi said, “the investigating group arrived, three officers and two policemen. They arrested Ma Ding first. Without much trouble, Ma admitted he had stolen the guns.”

“Then how come Ma Ding was not sentenced?”

“They did not allow him to go home that night. The next morning, Dragon Head came, riding the black horse and wearing the two rifles across his back. He asked the investigating group to release Ma Ding and claimed he was responsible for everything. He said he had ordered Ma to steal the guns. They let Ma Ding go and took Dragon Head into custody. Dragon Head confessed that he had been behind everything, including the six hats and the two transceivers. I
wrote down what he said during the interrogation, which was very short. He didn’t bother to hide anything.”

“Do you still have the notes?”

“No. They took them away the next day, together with the two guns. Dragon Head went with them too.”

“How did the villagers respond when they heard of his death?”

“They came over, crying and cursing. Wang Si and those militiamen pounded their chests and heads, shouting, ‘Brother Dragon’s wronged!’ The girl, Dragon Head’s fiancée, fainted and was carried to our clinic. Commissar Diao spoke with tears in his eyes and calmed them down. He told them that he had a heavy heart over the misfortune too, because he had lost a good friend. But our battalion wasn’t involved in the charge and the execution. We had no idea how this had happened. What he said seemed true, so after two hours they went back home.”

Gray mist was spreading above the two hundred thatched roofs of Guanmen Village below us. Kerosene lights and candles flickered timidly through the dim curtain of the evening air. A dog was barking. The voices of the children racing about in the streets sounded like birds’ chirping in deep woods. I did not want to talk more about Dragon Head. Niu Hsi might as well remain ignorant of the iniquitous reality. So I changed the topic and told him that I had arranged for him to go to college to study Russian. He looked hesitant.

“I know what’s in your mind, Little Niu,” I said. “You’re unsure of yourself.”

“No, Commander Gao. I think I can be a good student, as long as I work hard. To be honest, I’m thinking if I should go to college, since I’m already an officer.”

“Look at it this way.” I smiled. “In a person’s life, what part is longer — war or peace?”

“Of course peace is longer.”

“Then you need a skill and some knowledge to live in peace. When you’re old, do you think you can make a living by carrying a gun like I’m doing now?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then you should go, must go.”

He nodded his head. We turned around and were about to go down the hill. Niu stopped and said, “Commander Gao, I want to tell you something that I don’t know if I should.”

“What? Tell me.”

“Commissar Diao said he had you sent to Longmen.”

“What did he tell you exactly?”

“He didn’t tell me anything. After the villagers left, I overheard him on the phone: ‘Fortunately, we sent Gao Ping away beforehand.” ’

“Oh, I understand it now.” I was surprised, as the series of events started linking together. We began going down the hill. Now the whole thing became clear in my mind. By ordering me to go to Longmen, the Regimental Political Department had intended to prevent me from interfering with Dragon Head’s case; at last, I figured out why among the officers in the study program I was the only battalion leader; the others all had a higher rank. I had not been trusted. Why? Why did Diao treat me as his rival?

Suddenly it dawned on me that Diao Shu was determined to get rid of me, because I happened to know the true history of his family. Anyone with that knowledge could turn him in at any time, so I accidentally became a time bomb in his political and military career. For his own survival, he had to remove me, and the first step to achieve this purpose was to make me appear untrustworthy to our superiors so that nobody would believe what I said. He must have been working on this scheme for quite a while. Undoubtedly, the regimental leaders had already taken me for a troublemaker.

As Chief Liu had revealed to me, three months later I was demobilized.

5

Seven years have elapsed since I left the army. Life has been awfully kind to me. For all these years, I have worked as the chief of the Military Department in our commune. One of my children has gone to college in Tianjin, and the other is doing well in the middle school. In the evenings, I can have a few cups of liquor and chat away with friends till midnight. What else should I ask from life?

Diao Shu is the director of the Political Department of the Third Division now. He is an able man and probably deserves his series of promotions. Niu Hsi, who is still a lad in my eyes, returned to Hutou after graduation and has served as an interpreter in our Fifth Regiment for three years. Last month I received a letter from him. The letter reads as follows:

My Most Respected Commander Gao:

Please forgive me for my delay in writing to you. How are you now? How are your wife and children?

Recently I have been terribly busy, for the border is open now. Sometimes I work twelve hours a day. There are so many trade delegations, tourists, and business people that Russian interpreters are in great demand. Many of the local companies and factories turn to me for help when they have business to do with the Russians. Hutou is a peaceful town now — a city, I should say. You can see Russian travelers and shoppers in the streets every day, since there is a daily bus service across the border. Though I’m busy, I won’t complain. I have made a lot of money and got nine pairs of leather shoes and two dozen Western suits for free. In fact, I’m thinking of leaving the army now. There’s no need to worry about a job. Last month, Harbin Normal College
contacted me and asked me if I would like to teach Russian in their school.

Dear Commander Gao, how grateful I am to you! Seven years ago, when you wanted me to go to college, I hesitated. It was you who made the decision for me. My family and I will never forget you — our great benefactor.

Here’s a small incident, which I think you may be interested in: Last month I accompanied a delegation of our division to Russia to celebrate their Army Day. Vice Divisional Commissar Huang Hsing led the group (you may not know him; he is from the Second Regiment). After the banquet, we had coffee and tea and chatted. Commissar Huang took an envelope from his briefcase and handed it to the Russian officers. Guess what was inside the envelope? A bunch of photographs of Dragon Head! While the Russians were looking at the pictures, Huang explained, “He is the bandit who sank one of your gunboats seven years ago. It was a little unpleasant episode indeed, but we had him executed long ago.” I interpreted his words, and the Russians were delighted. Among the photographs there was one showing Dragon Head’s blasted face — his forehead was gone. In fact, only I knew that the bandit had been a militia company commander called Dragon Head, but I didn’t say anything.

Commander Gao, let my pen stop here for the moment. I will write to you again when I have time.

Please give my regards to your family. May you have good health.

My Salute,         

A Soldier of Yours
Niu Hsi                
March 29, Hutou  

Niu’s letter has made me think a lot about Dragon Head recently. He was a grand fighter, a dragon in Hutou County. He should have fallen on a battlefield.

A CONTRACT

Since the new soldiers came to my squad in February, Gu Gong had never stopped bullying them. Though it was an unstated rule that an older soldier could demand small services from a new soldier, Gu went too far — he would have the two boys wash his bowls and clothes, take his mail to the post office, and even fetch water for him in the morning, as if they had been his orderlies. The new soldiers complained to me twice, and I promised them that I would talk Gu out of his lording over the new comrades, but I didn’t have a chance to speak to him before I found myself resorting to force.

It happened one night in early April. After studying the documents issued by the Central Committee on the Ninth Chinese Communist Party Congress, we were preparing to go to bed. Some men went to the washroom down the hall to bathe their feet, while others were taking off their clothes and spreading their quilts.

“Feng Dong,” Gu said from the top of the bunk bed, “you forgot to dump the water in my basin.”

BOOK: Ocean of Words
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