The Explosion Chronicles (32 page)

In Latin America, Cuba and Venezuela appeared in red, while the remaining countries were either winter gray or autumn yellow. In Africa and Central Asia, the anti-American countries appeared in light red or pink, whereas allies of the United States appeared in black and gray. On the sand tables, the entire world was divided into Chinese red and American black. Every day, Mingyao would adjust each country’s color and elevation based on corresponding changes in the nation’s political status. In his office, no one was permitted to enter the room with the sand table maps—with the exception of the cleaning staff who would periodically come by to lightly dust them
with a feather duster. Mingyao had installed a television in this room and had subscribed to a number of magazines and papers dealing with military, national, and political matters, so that he could sit in his office every day reading the newspaper, leafing through his magazines, and watching the news on television in order to catch all of the Chinese news relating to international affairs, and based on this he would continually readjust the color and boundaries of each country on his maps and would plant red, black, and white flags on the countries’ territories.

That year, Mingyao rarely thought about ephemeral topics like women. Instead, from the beginning of March he locked himself in his war room and didn’t permit anyone to approach—with the exception of mealtimes, when someone would knock and bring food to his door, and his second sister-in-law Zhu Ying, who for two days would repeatedly knock on his door and then slide a couple of envelopes under it.

One day in March, just like the day when the Chinese embassy in Yugoslavia was bombed, the sky was as dark as though there was a total solar eclipse. On that particular day, a US EP-3 spy plane collided with a Chinese J-811 interceptor fighter jet. The Chinese plane broke in half and crashed into the sea. The pilot, whose name was Wang Wei, parachuted out but was lost. The American plane, meanwhile, suffered only minor damage and proceeded to land without permission in the Lingshui military airfield in southern China. When Mingyao heard this news, he was in his war room standing in front of the map of the Western Hemisphere, hesitating over whether or not he should add a white flag to the map of Italy, since in its recent elections the prime minister had invoked China to gain votes, claiming that at the peak of China’s socialist construction in the twentieth century, it had used bodies of people who died of starvation as fertilizer, burying them in the fields. Mingyao definitely did not believe
that this sort of thing could have happened. He found Italy rather curious and couldn’t decide whether to give this country two or three white flags as punishment for viciously attacking China. As he was hesitating, the map of China on the wall behind him suddenly began to shake, as though it were being blown by the wind, though the maps of surrounding nations, including Vietnam, Japan, South Korea, and India, did not move at all.

He knew something momentous had occurred.

When he turned on the television, he saw the news of the collision between the Chinese and US planes above Hainan Island, whereupon he immediately sprang up from the couch, paused for a second, then closed the door to his war room and, apart from the person who came to bring him his food, didn’t allow anyone else to enter. No one knew what he was doing in there, much less what he was thinking. Even the dozen or so must-read military newspapers that were delivered every day had to be slipped under his door. On the seventh or eighth day, Zhu Ying came several times to knock on his door, but when he didn’t respond she eventually slid two identical envelopes under it. In each there was a letter that said the following:

No one knew Mingyao’s reaction after he read these two letters, or whether he even read them at all. After Zhu Ying stuffed the letters
under his door, she stood at the entrance to his war room, shouting in a loud voice,

“Mingyao, please read those two letters and open the door. Let me say a few words.

“… Open the door so that I can say a few words.

“… If you don’t want to open the door, please at least read the two letters I gave you.”

At that point, Mingyao responded from inside the room, saying something that made those standing outside the room stop in their tracks. He said, “Everyone get the fuck out of here… . At this moment of national crisis, anyone who bothers me can expect to be treated poorly… . Everyone get the fuck out of here!” After this, there were no longer any voices or footsteps in the hallway outside Mingyao’s war room. In the surprised silence that followed, his sister-in-law murmured, “I’ve done everything I can.” She quietly turned and walked away, but as she was leaving two crystalline tears appeared in her eyes.

In the days that followed, the entire building was as silent as a grave. But on the tenth day, someone quietly slipped a document from the county seat under Mingyao’s door, whereupon this tomblike room once again began to show signs of life. This document was issued by a US car company that had finally decided to build a factory in Explosion, and the day after the first group of elite businessmen moved in with their considerable investment funds from the United States, the county mayor issued a directive that whenever residents of Explosion ran into foreigners in the street—regardless of whether the foreigners were there as investors or merely as tourists—the locals always had to nod and say, “Hello!” and then bow down to them and step out of the way so that the foreigners could proceed down the middle of the street. This was intended to fully demonstrate the high level of civilization of a country known for its rituals and order. Less
than three minutes after this document was slipped into his room, Mingyao roared and threw open his door. Everyone standing outside saw Mingyao—who had just spent ten days locked up in his war room—suddenly appear in the doorway with sunken eyes. The two letters that Zhu Ying had slid under the door had been tossed aside like empty cigarette boxes. The directive from the county government, meanwhile, had been ripped up and scattered like snowflakes all over the sand table model of the Western Hemisphere. Even the US territory and the Pacific Ocean were covered in paper and spittle from his cursing.

With his clothes under his arm, Mingyao strode out of the war room. After he left, a few people entered and began to clean the shattered plates, bowls, and cups that were scattered over the floor. When they saw the sand table model of the United States, they noticed that Mingyao had repainted in snowy white everything that had previously been painted black. America’s vast mountains, deserts, plains, and cities—including New York, Washington, San Francisco, and Seattle, together with Cleveland and Miami—were painted in Chinese-style funereal white. In this whiteness, every US city, every piece of territory, and every stretch of forest was inscribed with the characters for
Offering
and
Libation,
which one normally finds only on Chinese coffins.

Those former soldiers—with some of them having served as civil servants for a major general, and others having served as sentries for lieutenant generals and full generals—cleaned up the plates, chopsticks, and discarded food and scraps of paper that were scattered all over the war room, and realized that something momentous was about to unfold. When they returned home, they took out their military uniforms, caps, shoes, and munitions belts, which they had previously locked away, and proceeded to clean them and place them on the table and the bed.

Mingyao rushed into the county government building and immediately stepped inside the elevator. He hit his head against a half-open window in the hallway and shattered the windowpane. Then he proceeded into the county mayor’s office, where he saw his brother Mingliang discussing with several advisers how to help American investors profit and thrive in Explosion—and how to have them serve as bait to lure large businesses from rich European and Asian countries. Mingyao rushed in and overturned the conference table, throwing teacups to the floor. The water and tea leaves poured across the floor, with porcelain shards sitting in the water like islands in the ocean. “How can you, at a time like this, issue a directive instructing the people of Explosion to bow and give way to foreigners when they meet them in the street?” Mingyao howled, “You are a turncoat, a traitor, a slave! Don’t you know?”

Mingyao kicked a teacup that had somehow remained intact and sent it flying into the wall. “A Chinese plane has been struck by an invading US plane, and the pilot drowned in the ocean, yet the authorities are doing little more than voicing feeble resistance. At a time like this, how can you be sitting here discussing how to help former US soldiers enjoy themselves and make money while in Explosion? … Kong Mingliang, if you were not my brother, I would push you out the window to fall to your death on the concrete ground below!”

Mingyao rushed up to his brother’s desk, grabbed him by the collar, and attempted to lift him. He said, “I want you to send someone right now to go rescind that directive. If you don’t, I’ll immediately arrange for both the county government building and your office to be burned to the ground!”

Mingliang pushed Mingyao away, then slapped his face. “The economy is the nation’s top priority, you know?” He howled, “I’m telling you, all I need to do is give the word, and your mining
company will immediately collapse, your assets will be seized, and your accounts will be frozen!”

Mingliang furiously sat back down. “Do you really want to go against your elder brother? Do want to see whether he is able to ruin you, or whether you can succeed in removing him from his position as county mayor?

“Don’t forget!” Mingliang roared as he pounded the table. “If it weren’t for your brother, you would currently have no standing at all in Explosion!”

After everyone had retreated from this confrontation between the mayor and his brother, and all that was left in the room was this fraternal fury, Mingliang laughed coldly and said, “You focus your attention on earning money, but what can you do with that measly amount of money? Can you buy an aircraft carrier? Can you buy an atomic bomb that you could fire at the United States whenever you want? From my position as county mayor, I’m telling you that Explosion is now extraordinarily poor, but if it really becomes rich then I will be promoted to city mayor. China is now extraordinarily poor, but if it becomes rich then it would be able to purchase the US presidency.

“Go home.” Mingliang brushed away the tea leaves and drops of water that had splattered over his clothing. “You should go home and find someone to marry. If you don’t even think about women, then who will you ever be able to love, and what will you ever be able to accomplish?”

Before Kong Mingyao emerged from his brother’s office, he snorted and said, “Are you not going to retract your directive instructing the residents of Explosion to bow down to every American or other foreigner they encounter?” He then declared, “If you don’t, then I’ll retract it for you. I can get those Americans to leave Explosion without even having to utter a single word!” After saying this, Mingyao
walked out of the county government building. The afternoon sun shone into the hallway, illuminating his body as he walked away, like a string of shells shot out of a gun. Mingyao’s face was the color of bronze and glowed brightly in the sunlight. It turned out that he had originally rushed into the office building because he didn’t know how to respond to the news of the collision between the US and Chinese planes. Now, however, as he was arguing with his brother, he realized what he had to do in order to resist American imperialism. He virtually ran out of the county government courtyard, and when he reached the main road he ignored everything else as he proceeded toward the company building. He completely forgot that he had arrived at the county government building in a sedan, and that the driver and the car were still waiting for him in the garage.

Forty minutes later, Mingyao approached the empty plot where his mining company’s central administrative building was being constructed. As he had expected, his troops, soldiers, and militia, together with those soldiers who had withdrawn from the army but had been lured back by the high salaries he offered, were all waiting there anxiously for him. In the army they had been soldiers, squad leaders and platoon leaders, and company and battalion commanders, but after arriving in Explosion’s richest mining company they entered a peculiar half-military, half-civilian lifestyle, where Mingyao might summon them at any moment. After the US and Chinese planes collided over Hainan Island and the US plane landed on Chinese soil without permission, these former soldiers knew exactly what they had to do. They waited a total of ten days, until finally Mingyao emerged from his war room and then ran out of the county government building.

The main street in the county seat was still as crowded as before, full of people buying and selling vegetables. The people in the factories and office buildings were still going to and from
work, but behind the mining company building, in a courtyard surrounded by a tall brick wall, there were three reinforced militia battalions with uniformed soldiers clustered together. The soldiers’ military company was their new administrative work unit, and they stood in formation across three basketball courts. Those who had been designated as battalion commanders and company commanders included some who had served as company commanders while in the army, while there were also others whom Mingyao had appointed himself. On this day, they had all been hurriedly summoned by a deputy regiment commander in charge of training, who issued a report that made their blood boil. It turned out that the deputy regiment commander (who had been a battalion commander in the army) saw Mingyao soaked in sweat and facing the training field. He stood at attention, marched up to him and saluted, then announced that the entire regiment had reported for duty and were awaiting their orders. Then Mingyao wiped the sweat from his forehead and flung it to the ground. He collected himself, took a deep breath, and looked out at his forces. He was silent for a moment, and after his breathing had stabilized he began walking slowly toward a wooden stage in front of the regiment. That stage was as large as a house and a meter high. When it was not in use, it was pushed over into the field and covered in a tarp, and when it was needed it was covered in a red carpet.