Ma Jian - Beijing Coma

‘How does massaging his feet have any effect on his brain, Master Yao?’ my brother asks, rubbing more oil into my freshly washed feet.

Since Master Yao took up Falun Gong, he’s spent a lot of time giving public displays of the exercise routines. He used to come here twice a week, but he now only visits twice a month.

‘Each acupuncture point on the foot is connected to a specific body part or internal organ. If any part of the body is unwell, the pressure point that corresponds to it will feel sore when pressed, or will change colour. This area below the big toe corresponds to his head. This point here corresponds specifically to the cerebellum. Look, this is the point connected to his injury. Do you see? It’s darker than the surrounding skin.’

‘Yes, it is a bit darker.’ The day before yesterday, my brother took Master Yao and my mother out for lunch at the Beijing duck restaurant. He’s probably accepted that this qigong master might one day become our stepfather.

‘If he develops a temperature in the next twenty-four hours, it will prove his body is trying to fight his disease and bring down the inflammation.’ Master Yao is sitting on the ground below my feet, breathing loudly.

‘Have a rest, Old Yao,’ my mother says. ‘Master Li Hongzhi said that the purpose of cultivation is not to heal people. I wouldn’t want him to remove your powers.’

‘I’m only trying to help. I often used to heal people when I practised qigong. Anyway, if I do lose my wheel of law, I’ll just ask Master Li to install another one in me.’

My blood seems to be circulating more smoothly. A stream of energy flows through my body. Master Yao’s thumb is pressing into the arch of my foot. ‘This is his kidney point. I will release the pressure in a second, then press down again three more times.’

‘But his left kidney has been removed,’ my mother says.

‘I’m pressing the point on the left foot which is connected to the right kidney.’

‘I wish you hadn’t sold Dai Wei’s kidney, Mum. I told you on the phone that you should let me know if you were short of money.’

‘Well at least he’s helped save someone’s life. Dai Wei lies in bed all day. He doesn’t need more than one kidney. When I spoke to you on the phone, I asked you to track down some specialists who were researching conditions like his, but you never did.’

‘I didn’t approve of your mother’s decision either,’ Master Yao says. ‘You shouldn’t remove organs from living people. It upsets the body’s primordial qi. Can you pass me that towel, please?’ He takes the towel and wraps it around my shrivelled feet. After the half-hour foot massage, my head feels warmer and lighter.

‘I wrote to a neuroscience research centre, but never heard back,’ my brother says, then coughs into his sleeve. ‘Mum, you’ll have to reinsert the needle. Look, the skin’s inflamed.’ Someone knocked the IV tube attached to my right arm and the needle has become dislodged.

‘Both his arms are covered in needle pricks. I’ve had to insert so many drips, his veins must be like sieves now.’ My mother walks over and pulls out the needle. ‘I won’t bother putting it back in. He’s already had half a bottle.’

They turn off the light and carry the electric fan with them into the sitting room. My mother has cooked braised pork and bought a bottle of Erguotou distilled wine especially for my brother. Master Yao has given up alcohol and meat.

Since my mother has been having private Falun Gong lessons from Master Yao, she has become much more conscientious. She plays the exercise tapes all the time, and spends hours sitting on her bed meditating. She has also taken to calling him Old Yao now, instead of Master Yao.

‘Eat up, Old Yao. Whatever you may say about this government, at least there’s enough food to go around now. Back in the famine years, the wind musicians of our opera company’s orchestra were classified as “heavy labourers”, but we chorus members, who worked just as hard, were classified as “normal workers” and got eight jin less rice a month. And I had to send twenty jin’s worth of my monthly ration coupons to my husband, otherwise he would have starved to death in the labour camp.’

‘The food we were served in our staff canteen during those years was watery and tasteless,’ says Master Yao. ‘Occasionally, when I couldn’t stomach it any longer, I’d sneak off to a restaurant. But I’d choose one that was a half-hour walk away, to make sure no one from work saw me. I’d sit with the other nervous customers and gorge myself. I’d take a few pieces of duck back home, so that my family could have a taste. But I always felt guilty afterwards. One meal cost half my month’s wages… A few years later, after my unit was restructured, I was sent to work in the countryside. Life was so hard there, I lost all interest in food.’

‘My husband and I never once went out to a restaurant together,’ my mother sighs. Before Liberation, her family often dined at expensive restaurants. I’m sure she’s thinking back to those days now.

‘The Communist Party is more callous than any of the Chinese emperors of the past,’ Dai Ru says. ‘Dai Wei can’t move or talk, but the government still keeps him under constant surveillance.’ I remember how my brother jumped to his feet after reading a few pages of my father’s journal and vowed to avenge the injustices done to him.

‘You’re right. They even made me turn my back on my ancestors… Go on, eat up, Old Yao.’ This is the first time I’ve heard my mother mention her ancestors.

‘So do you see now, Mum? Your beloved Party destroyed your husband and then your son. They have torn our family apart.’ My brother sounds just like I used to.

‘Perhaps I was too leftist in my young days, but I stuck by your father. I never once considered divorcing him. If you were married to a rightist back then, you were treated like dirt. Most women in my situation would have abandoned him. Huh, if Dai Wei hadn’t got into this state, I could have pulled myself up again after your father died. I might have made a career for myself as a duettist.’

‘You’re so lucky to have been born with a beautiful voice,’ Master Yao says,

‘What’s all this “huh, huh”, Mum? Whenever I sighed as a child, you’d clip me round the ear. You said it was unlucky. But now you seem to sigh all the time.’

‘I’m frustrated, I suppose. I used to be a professional singer. I should start practising again. Perhaps that would raise my spirits a little. Huh. Before Liberation, my family owned a three-storey house. My father had many American friends, and would hold dance parties for them in our home. We owned a camera, and had albums filled with photographs… Eat up, Old Yao!’

‘You’ve been living in the free world for several years, Dai Ru,’ Master Yao says. ‘You must remember to take care what you say now you’re back.’

‘Helen and I went to the Square yesterday and laid a bouquet at the foot of the Monument to the People’s Heroes. It had six red roses and four white roses to commemorate the students who were killed on 6/4.’ I keep hearing my brother putting his tumbler of Erguotou back down on the table. It appears he’s become quite a hard drinker.

‘You could have got yourself arrested! A woman called Wang Xing went to the Square a while ago and unfurled a banner that said “Reverse the verdict on the Tiananmen Movement”. She was arrested, declared “criminally insane” and sent to one of those Ankang mental hospitals that are run by the police. They only release you from those places once they’ve tortured you so badly that you really have gone insane.’

Dai Ru sighs and says quietly, ‘If I hadn’t left the intersection to take a message back to the Square, I would probably have got caught in the crossfire too. Four students from my college were shot that night… I met up with some old classmates the other day. None of them wanted to talk about Tiananmen. All they’re interested in is doing business and making money.’