Wild Ginger - Anchee Min [6]
"Well, most of the time I lose. Once I almost got my teeth knocked out."
"You are brave."
"I wouldn't put it that way."
"I am sure you ... you are aware that you do look a little foreign. Is your father really French?"
"Half French. My grandfather is French."
"Where is France? Is it an imperialist country like the U.S.A.?"
"I have no idea. I have never seen a world map. My mother once said that it was in Europe and was a beautiful agricultural country. But how can I trust my mother?"
"So Hot Pepper was right about your dossier?"
"Well, one can't choose one's parents, can one?"
"Of course not."
She made a deep, old-woman-like sigh.
"I'm sorry, Wild Ginger."
"My mother was wrong. She thought that transferring me to another school would help."
"Well, you didn't fight for yourself this time."
"Believe me, it makes no difference. Sooner or later my looks will be everyone's excuse to hit or make fun of me. To tell you the truth, at my old school people were rougher. They beat me with metal belt buckles."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I can't stop them. Being submissive is not going to do it either, and that I know for sure."
I sighed, thinking about my own situation. Every muscle of my body ached.
"You take it as if you deserve it." She started to walk toward the gate and I followed. "Why don't you fight back, Maple? At least you should show them your disapproval."
"What's the use? In any case I won't win. I am alone."
"Not anymore." Wild Ginger picked up a willow branch and swung it in the air.
I looked at her.
She cracked the branch like a whip. It snapped and made a crispy sound.
A strange warm feeling came through me. My tears gushed up involuntarily.
"Here's your abacus," I managed to say. "Hot Pepper will break it again if she sees you hanging out with me."
"Or you with me." She smiled. "Where do you live?"
"Number 347 Red Heart Road. And you?"
"Not far from you. Stalin Road behind Chia Chia Lane."
"I like your name, by the way."
That night for the first time in a long while I felt at peace. Life was changing its color from dark to light. My despair eased. Wild Ginger filled my mind. I told my mother about my new friend. I described her fearlessness. I didn't mind when Mother fell asleep. She snored before I finished. I kept going. I needed to hear Wild Ginger's name and hear her story.
The late summer night in Shanghai was humid. I could hear my stomach rumble. We were too poor to afford full meals. My family slept on the floor on a bamboo mat. My three sisters and three brothers laid their arms and legs across one another. In sleep they were engaged in a war. They were fighting for food and space. My second brother's toe was in my third sister's mouth. My youngest brother's butt was on my mother's chest. My second sister shouted "Buns! Green onion buns!" and rolled off the mat as if chasing someone who had taken her buns. My oldest brother wiggled his body and stuck his head in between the table leg and the chair. "Buns? Where is the bun?" His hands grabbed my shoulder.
Unable to sleep, I got up. I decided to write a letter to my father, who had been sent to a forced labor collective. I hadn't seen him for almost a year. I told him that I looked forward to school now. Although I still expected beating and assault, the thought that I was no longer alone cheered me.
3
Lists of the names of the "newly discovered enemies" were posted on the neighborhood's bulletin boards. Among them was Mrs. Pei, Wild Ginger's mother. She was accused as a spy and was ordered to attend public meetings to denounce her husband and confess her crime. The neighbors and children were asked by the head of the district to keep their eyes on her and report any sign of resistance.
I ran to Wild Ginger to tell her the news. Her house was in an elegant compound located at the deep end of the lane. It was built during the French colonial period before the Liberation and was the greenest district in the city. The house was half hidden in the shade under a large fig tree. The entrance