Dreams of Joy - Lisa See [87]
“What about producing steel?” the brigade leader asks. “We have a quota to fill—”
“More important, what about the harvest?” The Party secretary continues to wear a worried look.
“These are my orders,” Z.G. says, not without sympathy. “We all must do our best to fulfill Chairman Mao’s wishes.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do! You will lead us right here in this field.” Brigade Leader Lai makes a fist and raises it in the air. This causes Sung-ling, Tao, Kumei, and the others who’ve been following us to break into rhythmic shouts: “The people’s commune is great! Long live Chairman Mao!” I copy them, raising my clenched fist and shouting too. With everyone staring at them, Z.G. and my mom join in. I’m so glad we brought my mother, because she’s finally starting to see what I see and feel what I feel.
Brigade Leader Lai pulls Z.G., my mom, and me aside, and leads us to a cinder-block building. He calls it the leadership hall, although he doesn’t invite Feng Jin or Sung-ling to join us. I glance back to see Kumei, Tao, Feng Jin, and Sung-ling drop to their haunches in the shade of a ginkgo tree. Inside the leadership hall are three spacious rooms—a dining room, a kitchen, and a large storeroom—plus another five rooms that look like they could be bedrooms or barracks. A table has been set for four people. Peasant women hurry from the kitchen to lay out an elaborate lunch of eight dishes. The meal is perfect—the vegetables are fresh on the tongue, the chilies give a wonderful bite, the flesh falls delicately from the bones of the whole fish, and the cured pork with salted black beans is properly tasty—but I want to eat with Tao and my other friends. Even if this meal is only for very important persons, why haven’t Feng Jin and Sung-ling been invited?
After lunch, we go back into the bright sunlight. I blink, trying to clear the black spots from my eyes. Tao, Kumei, and the others jump up when they see us. On the way back to Green Dragon and the villa, Tao and I lag behind. When we reach the turnoff to the Charity Pavilion, Tao dips onto it. I don’t hesitate for a moment. I run after him, scampering up the path as fast as I can. I reach the pavilion and throw myself into his arms. Our kisses are sweet yet frantic. So many months have passed. Instead of my feelings for Tao cooling, they have only grown. I can tell his have grown for me as well.
I WAKE AT five the next morning to the sound of announcements being read over a background of military music blaring from a loudspeaker in the villa: “Bring your woks. Bring your griddles. Bring your locks.” I dress quickly and go out to the sitting room that’s shared by the four bedrooms in this part of the villa. My mom sits at the table. Her eyes are shut and she massages her temples.
“Are you all right?” I remember my first morning here a year ago, when I was sicker than the village dog.
She opens her eyes, which are dulled by pain. “I’m fine,” she says. “I’ll be fine. It’s just—”
She doesn’t have a chance to finish, because Z.G. comes out of his room, looking cross. “What’s that noise?”
We head to the kitchen and find Kumei, Ta-ming, and Yong searching through cupboards. Brigade Leader Lai is already gone. He must go to the leadership hall very early each morning. The table in the center of the room, which has always been used for food preparation, has no vegetables or jars of pickles. Instead, cooking utensils and other metal items are laid out in a straight line from the smallest to the largest.
I introduce—or try to anyway, since I have to compete with the racket from the loudspeaker, which hangs from a rafter—Yong to my mother. She takes in Yong’s bound feet and then stares into her face.
“I’m honored to meet you,” my mom says.
“It’s been a long time since I met a real lady from Shanghai,” Yong responds.
“You know the city?” my mother asks.
“I was born there,” Yong answers, slipping into the Wu dialect. Kumei and I glance at each other. Yong never spoke to me in the Wu dialect when I was here before. I wonder if she spoke