Mao's Last Dancer - Li Cunxin [80]
Delworth drove Lori, Elizabeth, and me to the Chinese consulate on Montrose Boulevard. When we arrived Charles was already at the consulate gate. As soon as we entered, the big metal door clanged shut behind us.
My heart sank. I should have listened to Charles. I felt like a prisoner of China already.
TWENTY-TWO
Defection
We were taken to a meeting room where Ben, Clare Duncan, and Jack, the Houston Ballet Company’s lawyer, were already waiting. Consul Zhang was there with his wife, and several other consulate officials. The only one missing was the consul general himself. They seemed relaxed and friendly. Ben was clearly furious. He wouldn’t even look at me.
It was about six in the evening by now.
I looked around the room. It was a big square with black-and-white Chinese landscapes on the walls.
The atmosphere was tense.
We were offered tea and soft drinks and there was a lot of small talk about China and the improving relationship between the two countries. Nobody was talking about why we were there at all! I was very scared. I couldn’t stand the suspense much longer.
Then one of the officials asked Charles and Jack to speak with him, alone, in a room down the hall. I wanted Charles to stay but he gave me a reassuring look.
But to those of us left, it seemed as though the consulate officials were keeping the conversation going, trying to distract us, while they gradually eliminated my friends from the room. People disappeared one by one. Each time a friend left I squeezed Elizabeth’s hand tighter and tighter. It wasn’t long before only Consul Zhang, Clare, Elizabeth, myself, and two officials remained.
Eventually Consul Zhang asked everyone, except me, to go to another room. He wanted a private conversation.
Elizabeth refused. We begged Clare to stay with us, but the two officials simply shoved her outside.
Then four security guards stormed in, heading straight for Elizabeth and me.
We screamed. Clare looked back and screamed too.
It took only a few seconds for the four highly trained Chinese guards to separate me from Elizabeth. I was completely helpless against them. They quickly grabbed my arms and legs, carried me to the top floor, and locked me into a small room.
I was struggling to breathe. I was scared. Truly scared.
Downstairs, Charles Foster realized what was happening. He demanded to see his client.
From then on, Charles said later, the atmosphere changed completely. In a very strident voice the consulate official ordered Charles to sit. He was on Chinese territory and was expected to follow orders. The two employees who were serving drinks dropped their trays and assumed a defensive stance, blocking the door. Charles charged forward but was shoved aside as he tried to get through. He could hear my voice yelling from the other room—“Help, they are taking me! Help, they are taking me!” By the time Charles and Jack got back to the main room everyone was there except me.
From my room on the top floor I could hear the guards talking outside the door. I was terrified. I remembered the executions I had witnessed as a child during the Cultural Revolution, and I saw my own death flash in front of my eyes. I felt desperately alone. Nobody could save me. It was just a matter of time before they stuck a gun to my head or forced me back to China where I would suffer a humiliating death.
I tried to think about my niang and her sweet laughter. I tried to think about my dia and his humble stories. I tried to think about Elizabeth, the scent of her perfume. I remembered the Bandit and our blood brothers’ poem, but I couldn’t hold on to any one comforting thread.
The door opened. Consul Zhang came into the room. He sat in front of me and attempted a smile, but he seemed very sad. He looked straight into my eyes, like a chess player trying to figure out a strategy. We sat there just looking at each other. I was perspiring profusely. I couldn’t stand this silence. If I sat there any longer my heart would explode. I had to do something! What to say to Consul Zhang? What was there to say? I was