Su Tong - The Boat to Redemption

He walked past me with a haughty air and then spun around and fell in behind me. ‘You’re Ku Dongliang, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘Let me ask you a historical question. Do you know when Chairman Mao came to Milltown?’ I immediately sensed that this out-of-nowhere question had something to do with my diary, so I pretended I hadn’t heard him and started walking faster. I never imagined that getting away would be so difficult. He kept coming after me. Starting to breathe hard, he said, ‘Then let me ask you a common-sense question. Why would Chairman Mao meet with a sunflower and not Milltown’s masses? Is it really possible that the great man would stoop to meet with something planted in the ground? Why are you creating a false history, Ku Dongliang?’

Obviously, my diary was being read by people all over town, including Old Cui’s grandson. How could a bookworm like him be in on my secrets? I wasn’t interested in having a historical debate with the boy and was not obliged to reveal any of my youthful secrets. ‘How much history does a little bastard like you understand?’ I roared, glaring at him. ‘Get away from me!’

I felt sheepish after chasing the youngster away, and as I walked the streets of Milltown at twilight, it seemed to me that my private affairs were like streetlamps lighting up the little town and its residents’ lonely lives. I had the feeling that the laughter emerging from windows along the way was directed at me and at my diary. Keeping to the dark side of the streets, I continued on to Spring Breeze Inn, taking pains to avoid meeting up with anyone else. Profound doubts filled my mind. How many more pages of my diary remained, I wondered, and how many of those were with Huixian?

I stopped at the entrance to the inn, with its lanterns that heralded a May Day celebration. The spot was deserted; there was no trace of any vehicles. I glanced up at the third-floor windows of the concrete building, with its isolated ‘penthouse’. The purple curtains were shut, making it impossible to determine whether or not the investigative teams were up there. I breathed in deeply, but couldn’t smell food; when I held my breath, I heard nothing that sounded like people at a dinner table. Feeling dejected, I went up and tried the front door. It was locked. But by looking through the glass door, I could see someone asleep at the reception desk. I knocked, then knocked again, but the head didn’t move. ‘Who’s there?’ It was a woman’s listless voice. ‘You need permission from the police station to stay here.’

‘I’m not a guest,’ I replied. ‘I’m looking for somebody.’

‘Who?’ she said. ‘You can’t do that without permission either. Who are you? And who are you looking for?’

I wouldn’t tell her my name. ‘You have a private room,’ I said. ‘Is Zhao Chuntang in there with dinner guests?’

The sleepy-eyed woman stood up and strained to see who I was. Her tone of voice was guarded. ‘I asked you who you are. Who told you we have a private room?’

I decided to try being clever. ‘Secretary Zhao,’ I said. ‘He told me I’d find him here.’

Still she wouldn’t open the door for me. She squinted to get a good look. ‘I don’t know you,’ she said. ‘You’re not an official.’ She sat down and laid her head back down on the desk. ‘Go and look for the Party Secretary at the General Affairs Building,’ she snarled. ‘There’s no Party Secretary here, only paying guests.’

Assuming that Little Jia had lied to me, I felt my anger rise. I just wanted to talk to Zhao Chuntang, not commit violence against him. ‘Why did you lie to me, Little Jia, you son of a bitch?’ Cursing him under my breath, I sat down on the steps of the inn, suddenly weary beyond imagining. When you’re overly tired, all your aches and pains start acting up. My hip began throbbing so badly I couldn’t get to my feet.

The lights in Pock-faced Li’s bean-curd shop, which was next door to the inn, came on, as Li and his wife busied themselves emptying bags of soy beans that were piled up at their door on to their millstone. Father had always liked the bean curd from this shop, and since you could buy it without ration coupons, I figured this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Father could use some nutritious food. ‘Two cakes of bean curd!’ I called out. ‘I’ll buy two cakes.’

The response was immediate. Li’s wife stepped outside with two cakes, but when she didn’t see anyone at the door, she cried out, ‘Who’s that shouting? A ghost?’

‘Over here,’ I said with a wave of my hand. ‘It’s me.’

Seeing me sitting on the steps of the inn, she said with obvious displeasure, ‘You must think you’re some kind of big shot, buying bean curd with the airs of an official! Rather than take a few steps, you expect me to deliver it to you.’

I tried to stand up, but couldn’t, and was reminded that buying the bean curd would stop me from doing what I’d come to do. How would it look if I went searching for Zhao Chuntang with two cakes of bean curd in my hands? I changed my mind. ‘Forget it,’ I said to Li’s wife. ‘I don’t want it after all. I’ll just rest here a while.’

‘How am I supposed to trust anything you say?’ she grumbled. ‘First one thing, then another. Are you going to rest or do you want this bean curd? Don’t play games with me. There are plenty of customers for bean curd from our shop.’

I muttered an apology, then changed the subject. ‘Do you know where Zhao Chuntang moved to, Aunty?’

Something clicked when she heard my question. Still holding the two cakes of bean curd, she gave me a long look, her eyes lighting up, and exclaimed, ‘Aha, you’re Ku something-or-other Liang, aren’t you? I know you, you’re Ku Wenxuan’s son. Still running around pleading your father’s case, are you? Well, you can stop running. They’ve located the martyr Deng Shaoxiang’s son. It isn’t your dad and it isn’t the idiot Bianjin. The ordained descendant is a one-time schoolteacher in Wufu with a bright future. He used to be a middle-school headteacher, but has been promoted to chief of the Education Bureau.’

About halfway through her rant, she noticed the pained grimace on my face, and a note of fear crept into her voice. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she demanded. ‘You look as if you’d eat me alive if you could. Well, I’m not the one who determined that you’re not the descendants of the martyr. I heard that from Aunty Wang at the inn, who heard it from some comrades in the investigative team.’

Just then Pock-faced Li walked outside in his apron, looking angry, and without so much as a glance at me railed at his wife, ‘You blabbermouth, what are you doing out here — selling bean curd or selling information? And if you’re a spy selling information, you’re supposed to ask how much they’re paying and who you’re selling it to. A dog’s got a better memory than you. Have you forgotten how his dad once sent people over to chop off our capitalist’s tail, how they confiscated three bags of beans and our millstone? I guess you don’t remember how you screamed and wailed. But now the scar is healed and the pain’s a distant memory, is that it? Don’t you dare answer his questions till they give us back our three bags of beans!’

Pock-faced Li’s hatred of my father took me by surprise, since I had no idea that Father and this couple had a past grievance. But then I was reminded of Li Yuhe’s song in the opera Red Lantern : ‘Plant a peach tree and you get peaches, sow rose seeds and roses bloom.’ That, in a word, summed up the failure of my father’s political career. I gritted my teeth and walked over to People’s Avenue under the withering stares of Li and his wife. Once I was out of view I breathed a sigh of relief. Night had fallen and the streetlamps were lit, leaving one side of Milltown’s streets in darkness. The town’s main street looked cleaner than ever, in contrast to the lanes, which appeared even dirtier than before. Oily smoke from kitchens filled the air with the tempting smells of pork and spicy greens. My stomach began to grumble as I wondered where to go now. Li’s wife hadn’t produced any evidence to back up what she’d told me, but the news that a new descendant of Deng Shaoxiang had been chosen must have already been making the rounds in town. Father’s long wait was about to end in a crushing defeat. He wouldn’t believe it, of course, but that no longer mattered.