Pearl of China (23 page)

C
HAPTER
31

Papa was a master when it came to tricking the authorities. “Mao fought guerrilla style and won China,” Papa said to his congregation. “We stand the same chance to save souls for God if we follow his example.”

I warned Papa that he was asking for trouble.

“I have an advantage over Mao,” Papa replied with confidence. “I have the radio.”

I was worried. “You will end up in prison.”

“That already happened before you came home.” Papa stuck up three fingers. “Three times I was in and out of that filthy place. What more can the authorities do to a century-old man?”

Papa reminded me more and more of Absalom. He attended births, marriages, and funerals. He fooled the government spies with the language he used. He commenced each ceremony the traditional way and then turned it into a Christian event without anyone being the wiser—even when an agent was in the crowd. Papa started each sermon with Mao’s Quotation Book in his hand. He would begin with “
We are people from all
walks of life
” and conclude by reciting from the Bible, “
He that had gathered
much had nothing over; and he that had gathered little had no lack.
”

Papa developed a language only his Christian congregation understood. He referred to God as “the Cloud-walker,” punishment in hell as being “handpicked by Karl Marx,” the Bible as “the Quotation Book,” and salvation as “the revolutionary mission.”

During the celebration on China’s twenty-second National Independence Day, Papa was arrested for the fourth time for spreading poisonous thoughts. Papa confessed quickly to avoid torture. He denounced himself and made promises to the authorities, but he had no intention of keeping them.

Papa forgave himself in God’s name. He called his lies strategies to avoid unnecessary sacrifices. Using himself as an example, he taught his congregation how to deal with the authorities. Once, Papa pretended to have a nervous breakdown. He claimed that he suffered flashbacks from the time when he was “poisoned” by Absalom. At public rallies Papa pointed at himself and shouted, “Down with Absalom’s number-one running dog!” This caused stifled laughter to ripple through the crowd.

When ordered to criticize himself, Papa said, “My hands would be busy picking your pockets if Absalom hadn’t introduced me to Jesus Christ.”

Vanguard tried to stop Papa. “How dare you praise that American cultural imperialist!” he yelled.

“Down with Absalom!” Papa shouted back as he punched his fists into the air. “I salute Comrade Vanguard!” Turning toward Mao’s portrait on the wall, he bowed deeply. “I’ll confess more to you, Chairman Mao!”

“More confessions!” the crowd cheered. “More confessions!”

Papa carried on. “Chairman Mao teaches us that ‘we must educate the masses by exposing what our enemy has done.’ Now, let me tell you what Jesus Christ has done.”

I learned from Papa not to “swim against the current.” I still felt hurt when children called me evil, but I no longer felt guilty. My true healing started when I began to help Papa with his guerrilla church.

To his amazement, Papa started to receive shocking confessions. Although he did not share them with me at first, eventually he did. I learned that Carpenter Chan had confessed that he had been a secret member of the Communist Party and Vanguard had been his leader. Carpenter Chan joined the party in 1949 believing that Mao and the Communists represented the poor. Carpenter Chan’s assigned task was to report on Papa. However, Chan became troubled when he realized how flawed and power-hungry Vanguard was. As the years went by, Carpenter Chan became convinced that Vanguard was a false prophet and Mao a false God.

My childhood memories were like splendid Imperial Palaces where I wandered and lingered. Often I imagined that Pearl and I were reunited. That scene was my favorite daydream. I felt closest to God when thinking about Pearl. I considered such moments like opening gifts from heaven.

Unlike me, my daughter, Rouge, was a realist, especially after her father’s death. Memories weren’t the same to her as they were to me. She chose to forget over remembering.

I would live with Rouge until she was in her forties and finally married. My son-in-law was a hardware-factory technician who had lost his wife to illness. The man struggled to raise his two young daughters. I was pleased when Rouge married him and adopted both girls. A year later Rouge gave birth to her own baby girl. My favorite activity was taking my granddaughters to visit the places where Pearl and I used to play hide-and-seek. I enjoyed the sunshine and the gentle rolling scenery, especially when the wind blew softly, brushing against my face. During such moments, I forgot how old I was. I felt like a girl again until one of my granddaughters started singing Carie’s favorite song and I realized that she wasn’t Pearl. That’s when I wondered if Pearl was still alive.

The day before Chinese New Year’s Eve in 1971, Papa came with a surprise.

“Pearl Buck will speak on Voice of America!” Papa could barely contain his excitement.

So, she was alive! I got down on my knees and thanked God. It had been thirty-seven years since I had last seen her. I was white-haired and imagined her to be the same.

It was no use when Papa advised people not to come.

“It’s an enemy radio station,” Papa warned. “You will be considered a traitor if caught listening. You will be arrested and sent to prison.”

The day was carefully planned. The secret gathering would be disguised as a Chinese New Year’s banquet.

I was surprised when Vanguard and his assistant, nicknamed Catfish, walked into the church moments before the broadcast.

“Secretary Vanguard, welcome, and please join us,” Papa greeted the two with a smile.

I pulled Papa aside and whispered in his ear, “Have you lost your mind?”

Papa ignored me. He took out his radio and began to set it up.

“Bring out the best wine for our boss,” Papa said.

People started to crawl out of their sleeping boxes and climb down the ropes. Carpenter Chan and Lilac came to stand near Papa. Behind them were Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers.

The hallway and the dining area soon became crowded.

Papa poured wine and made sure that Vanguard and Catfish had the largest share. He poured an inch into the other glasses, but filled theirs to the top. Papa made a toast. “Let’s drink to demonstrate our loyalty to Chairman Mao!”

Vanguard had to drink all of his wine. Papa waited until Vanguard’s glass was empty before he refilled it and toasted to Mao’s health. Glasses were emptied and refilled again. Papa’s third toast was to the victory of the Cultural Revolution. The fourth full glass and toast were for Vanguard’s continued success in leading Chin-kiang into Communism.

When Vanguard slipped from the chair onto the floor, his face was the color of a rooster’s comb. Catfish was still awake, but Papa ignored him and changed the radio’s channel. The church filled with the sound of Voice of America.

We listened intently.

In Mandarin the host introduced Pearl S. Buck.

I stopped breathing when I heard a female voice say in Chin-kiang-accented Mandarin, “Happy Chinese New Year! I am Pearl Sydenstricker Buck.”

The first reaction was that no one could believe their ears. We all thought that it was our imagination.

As the conversation continued, the reality sank in.

“It’s her! It’s our Pearl!” Jumping for joy, we screamed and hugged each other.

“Happy New Year to you too, Pearl!” Papa said. He was smiling, but tears streamed down his cheeks.

It was as if she had never left China. Her accent hadn’t changed. Her tone was gentle and clear. She began to tell us about her life. We had little understanding of the events she was talking about, such as the Great Depression and the Vietnam War. But it didn’t matter. We were gathered to hear her voice. The fact that she was alive filled me with happiness.

Pearl talked about her books, including her translation of
All Men
Are Brothers
. She mentioned that
The Good Earth
had been made into an American movie. “Although it’s a wonderful movie,” she said, “I am afraid that you wouldn’t like it, because all the Chinese characters are played by Western actors. They all have high noses and speak English.” She said that she lived in Pennsylvania and had adopted eight children, most of them of Asian descent.

We wept when Pearl said that she wanted to visit China.

“The details of my youth have become more and more clear to me as I have aged.” We could hear that Pearl’s voice was full of emotion. “When I close my eyes, I see Chin-kiang’s hills and fields at dawn and dusk, in sunshine and in moonlight, in summer green and winter snow.” She said she missed the Chinese New Year’s celebration the most. “I would be having a banquet with my friends right now if I were among them. As we all know, to be Chinese means one lives to eat.”

The host asked Pearl to describe a typical scene in Chin-kiang for the world’s listeners.

She paused for a moment and then replied, “A typical scene would be the mist over the big pond under the weeping willows. There would be frail clouds in the sky, and the water would shine silver. Against this background, I would see a great white heron standing on one stalk of a leg.”

I let my tears flow as I imagined the smile on my friend’s face.

Pearl went on. “My American friends often praise Chinese artists for their vivid imaginations, but no, let me tell you, the artist only puts down what he sees. I grew up and spent forty years of my life enjoying such scenery. It is the China I know and the China I continue to live in within my mind.”

Catfish grew terrified as he listened. He was not drunk and was aware of the consequences. He slapped Vanguard’s face and splashed water over him. “Boss! Wake up! We must go!”

Like a pile of wet mud, Vanguard did not move.

“We are trapped!” Catfish became hysterical. He turned to Papa and threatened, “I’m going to report this!”

“Go ahead!” Papa said. “Don’t forget to mention that Vanguard supported us and that is why he was here with us. He was so excited to listen to Voice of America and Pearl Buck that he got drunk to celebrate. Everyone in this building saw him do it.”

C
HAPTER
32

In July 1971, Papa noticed a stamp-sized announcement that Mao was to receive a special guest from America, a man named Henry Kissinger.

“Mao’s pot is cooking!” Papa said to Carpenter Chan.

Three months later Papa learned that China had been accepted as a member of the United Nations.

“A deal is in the works,” Papa predicted.

The battle between the two intensified when Nixon’s visit was announced publicly. A group of investigators came to Chin-kiang. We had no idea that it had to do with the fact that Nixon had selected Pearl Buck to accompany him to China. It was only later that we learned the momentous news.

By candlelight Papa conducted discussions with his guerrilla-church members. “The world’s attention will be focused on Nixon when he comes,” Papa said, his eyes glowing and every wrinkle dancing. “Imagine, our Pearl introducing Nixon to Mao in perfect Mandarin and Mao to Nixon in American English!”

The question seemed to be: Would Madame Mao let it happen? Would she stand for another woman taking over the role she believed she was entitled to?

“Hundreds of cameras will be clicking and flashing,” Papa continued.

“Madame Mao will be jealous of Pearl standing between Mao and Nixon.”

“There is another possibility,” Carpenter Chan said. “Mao might show interest in Pearl, like he did with the wife of Philippine president Marcos. I saw the documentary in which Mao kissed the lady’s hand.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if Mao was charmed by the blue-eyed Pearl. I imagined Pearl dressed up. She would look like Carie, beautiful and elegant. Mao would ask questions in his native Hunanese, and Pearl would answer in the same tune. As far as I knew, Pearl was fluent in many Chinese dialects besides Mandarin. It would only be natural for Mao to extend an invitation to Pearl to visit him in private, as he had with so many famous Chinese actresses, poets, and novelists.

“Perhaps Mao will offer Pearl a personal tour of the Forbidden City,”

Papa imagined. “I can see the two strolling together down the Imperial Long Corridor, where the Last Empress, Tsu Hsi, walked every day after dinner. Mao would share his knowledge of Chinese history.”

“Mao might suggest visiting the Great Wall,” Carpenter Chan added. “He and Pearl would be carried by the palanquin bearers.”

Lilac nodded. “Certainly Mao would propose dinner at the Imperial Summer Palace.”

“Yes,” Papa agreed. “The dishes would be given names after Mao’s poems. Crabs with ginger and wine would be called Taking Down the Capital Nanking. Roasted duck with wheat pancakes would be called Autumn Uprising Triumph.”

“Hot red pepper with fried frog legs would be called The Birth of the People’s Republic.” Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers drooled.

“I don’t think so,” Lilac disagreed. “Pearl wouldn’t like Mao at all.”

“We’ll see,” Papa said. “Wine might bring alive the poet in Mao. He could pick up a brush pen and write Pearl a calligraphy couplet as a gift. Pearl might demonstrate her appreciation by recognizing the rhythm in which Mao composed, and she would sound out the phrases in ancient Chinese.”

“Mao would ask Pearl to stay for late-night tea,” said Bumpkin Emperor, nodding.

“Pearl would refuse,” Rouge said. “And she would say, ‘President Nixon is waiting for me.’”

“The rejection would be worse than Nixon dropping a nuclear bomb on China,” everyone agreed.

The town of Chin-kiang was to be given a task of national importance. As the party boss, Carpenter Chan started to receive messages from his superiors. The first was from Premier Chou En-lai, instructing him to prepare for Pearl Buck’s homecoming.

“Get ready to show the town to America’s President Nixon,” the message read.

The second message contradicted the first. It ordered the town to cooperate with Madame Mao’s investigators. “It is time to reveal Pearl Buck and her parents’ crimes against China and the Chinese people,” that message read.

Believing that it would be an opportunity to get back on top, Vanguard exposed the underground Christian church. “Absalom’s ghost is not only alive but active in turning people against Mao and Communism,” he claimed.

The Communist newspaper, the
People’s Daily
, published an article titled “The Nobel Prize Winner Makes Her Living Insulting China.” Carpenter Chan told us that Madame Mao had barred Chin-kiang from receiving the American guests.

Secretly, Carpenter Chan took back the confiscated radio. He and Papa tuned in to Voice of America for the latest news. Between the lines, they learned that Nixon’s delegation would depart from the United States for China in a week, and that the Chinese authorities had refused Pearl Buck entrance.

Carpenter Chan composed a petition signed by everyone in town and sent it to Premier Chou En-lai.

“
Pearl Buck grew up in Chin-kiang
,” the petition pleaded. “
It is her
right to visit her mother’s grave and our duty as her neighbors and friends to
see her wish granted.
”

Never before had the entire town been united in one common goal. It was not Pearl Buck’s visit that we were fighting for, but our own lives and our children’s future. Since the beginning of the Cultural Revolution, those whose paths had crossed Absalom’s and Carie’s had been denounced and made to suffer. The major events had happened years ago, but our memories were still fresh. Some people had been affected more directly than others, but all had stories to tell. I remembered that the teenage mob that called itself Mao’s Red Guard had even come to Beijing to “clear Pearl Buck’s evil influence.” They knew that I had delivered letters to Pearl from Hsu Chih-mo. They took me out of the prison to attend a public rally, where the teens hung a wooden board around my neck that read, pimp. The crowd demanded that I confess Hsu Chih-mo and Pearl Buck’s relationship. Pearl’s former students were terrorized. They were forced to inform on me. One pointed out to the crowd that I was Pearl’s best friend and Carie’s adopted daughter. Other students recalled that I was the one who had tried to steal Hsu Chih-mo from Pearl Buck.

The Red Guard located Absalom’s grave near Chin-kiang and vandalized it. They smashed the stone-carving tablet honoring Absalom’s lifelong service to God. The Red Guard also sought Carie’s grave. It was Lilac who removed the tombstone to a different location. The grave the Red Guard destroyed was not Carie’s.

Lilac’s sons were ordered to change names. Double Luck David and John were now Down with Christ and War on God. Triple Luck Solomon’s new name was Mao’s Loyalist.

When the Red Guard ordered Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers to smash a ceramic figure of Christ, the former warlords exploded. They took the anti-Christ boards off their necks and smashed them instead. When they were locked up, they escaped into the mountains.

Papa took the risk of protecting Absalom’s hand-drawn pictures of Jesus Christ. He hid them behind the wall-sized portrait of Mao. When Carpenter Chan and his workmen learned that the Red Guard had decided to burn the church, they transformed the church into an “Education Museum” in which Mao’s head was painted on every surface. The sculptures of Christ and the saints were boxed and caged and captioned “The Negative Teachers.” The boxes were put on display for criticism. To prevent the sculptures from being defiled, the workmen wrapped them in red ribbons with slogans like “Long Live Chairman Mao!” and “Salute to Madame Mao!” written on them.

What pained Papa the most was when members withdrew from the congregation. Although Papa understood that people did it under pressure and out of fear, he couldn’t help feeling defeated. He threatened people with “going to hell,” although he was appalled by their response: “Hell will be a better place than where we are.”

For years Chin-kiang was considered an area severely infected by a “Christian plague.” It was decided that the town needed a deep cleaning. Although Vanguard set himself as an example for denouncing Christianity, few followed him. People called Vanguard “the Chin-kiang Judas.” The police discovered that Bibles were hidden inside the covers of Mao’s books and clay figures of Christ were hidden inside rice bags. Christmas songs were heard during the Chinese New Year, and flowers by Carie’s grave never failed to blossom in spring. Children who woke up in the middle of the night to relieve themselves would find themselves tripping over their parents, on their knees praying in the dark. Despite his age, Papa made his rounds rain or shine when there was no place safe to worship God.

Age finally took its toll on Papa. He collapsed one day as he went from house to house, visiting members of his congregation. Rouge and I rushed to his side. When he woke up, he told me that he had met Absalom.

“Old Teacher still rode his donkey,” Papa said.

“Did you ask him if he was pleased with your work?” I asked, teasing.

“I did.”

“What was the reply?” Rouge was curious.

Papa took a few deep breaths before he answered, “Absalom cried, which was rather out of character. It was about Pearl.”

“Pearl?”

“Absalom regretted that he never got the time to be a good father to Pearl.”

“What was your response?” both Rouge and I asked.

“I told him that he should be proud, because she carried on his work—that we all heard her on Voice of America.”

A week later, Papa stopped breathing. Like a ripe melon, Papa hung happily on his vine before dropping to the ground. He went to sit under the tree outside the converted church building and looked like he had just fallen asleep with his chin on his chest.