Wild Ginger - Anchee Min [55]
Father put down his chopsticks and turned to me.
I got up before Father had a chance to order me to tell the truth. I made up an excuse, saying that I had to attend a Mao study session at school, and dashed out.
The next morning I got up early. I went to the city hall and asked to see the head of investigation. After I told them that I was an anti-Maoist and had been involved in the incident I was led to an interrogation room.
An armed man appeared. He introduced himself as Mr. Wang, an assistant to the investigator. "The party and the people are glad that you have come to your senses. Welcome back to Chairman Mao's line." He told me that I had to produce a written confession before the investigator would see me. "You will have one week to draft a statement."
"Do I write it here?" I asked.
"That's right."
"May I go home at night?"
"No."
"But..."
"I am sure you have prepared yourself for a hard journey."
"Well, do I get any credit for turning myself in?"
"Who do you think you are? A heroine?" He turned around and slammed the door behind him.
I was put in a room without windows. I began to compose my confession. I didn't have much to say except that I had supplied Evergreen with the pliers and the bag. To weave a lie was not as easy as I thought. If I didn't make myself compelling, my plan would fail. If I said too much, I would expose Wild Ginger. I decided to simply call myself an anti-Maoist and write abstract words around that label.
It sounded stupid. But what else could I possibly produce? The trick was to make up facts and stretch logic. For example, we all believed that we could endure atom bombs. The fact was that we had no idea what an atom bomb could do. Chairman Mao had said that we needn't be afraid. So there was no reason to be afraid. And we weren't. We were told that if we dug deep enough into the earth, we could generate an earthquake in America. We had no doubt about that. How could Chairman Mao be wrong?
It was the easiest thing to arrest an anti-Maoist and blame the country's misfortune on him. People relished making discoveries. And people enjoyed putting villains in prison. Without learning the bad luck of the others, how could one realize one's own good fortune? An elderly lady in our district was convicted because of her anti-Mao crime. Her cat ate up her lard and she chased the cat out of the kitchen and into the lane. She shouted, "Kill the cat! Kill the cat!" She forgot that the word for cat (mao) sounded the same as the Chairman's name. It was too late when she realized her mistake. She should have shouted, "Kill the one whom mice fear!" Another anti-Maoist was an old man. He had stomach problems and farted during a Mao reading. When he refused to publicly criticize himself, he was sent to a forced labor collective for the rest of his life. In contrast, there was a young boy who was considered a hero because he cried "A long, long life to Chairman Mao!" when he drowned in a flood.
I could no longer make sense out of life.
There had been no sign that my case would be brought to light. I was given a bowl of water and two buns every day. I had turned in my papers and was told to wait for a response. I became frustrated as the days went by without any news. I began to realize that I had done the dumbest thing in my life. I was cold at night lying on the bare floor. A plastic container served as a chamber pot. It had no lid. I breathed my own waste. I banged on the door on the tenth day and asked to speak to the investigator. The guard came and said that my food of the day would be taken away as punishment.
After two months of isolation my wait ended. Mr. Wang came and read me the news from a yellow paper. He read in a slurred, impatient, and careless voice, as if he had been reading this all his life and was sick of going through it again.
I learned