Under the Hawthorn Tree (34 page)

Her brother's unexpected success made Jingqiu twitch with excitement, and she started to draw up in her mind a blueprint for Old Third to achieve the same. Most probably they'd have to wait until she had been made permanent, then her mother wouldn't have so much to worry about, and she and Old Third would be able to spend time together in public just like Yamin and her brother. Old Third would then collect the family's coal. The thought of it was funny; her brother collected the coal for Yamin's family and Old Third for hers. But who would get the coal for Old Third's family?

Suddenly it seemed as if they couldn't keep good fortune from knocking on their door. The headmaster, Mr Wang, revealed some important inside information to Jingqiu's mother. He had suggested to the school that when the time was right they might let Jingqiu teach instead of work in the kitchens. Because the area around No. 8 Primary and Middle Schools was cut off by the river, very few people agreed to be transferred there from the city. It was the kind of place that the Bureau of Culture and Education sent either teachers who had committed some misdemeanour, or else naive young teachers from the teacher training college, who as soon as they figured out the situation, got themselves transferred elsewhere. The schools were always short of teachers. They could use this excuse to petition the Bureau of Culture and Education to let Jingqiu become a teacher.

‘Tell your Jingqiu to behave herself, and you go and try to influence some of the other senior staff at the school.'

Even though Jingqiu had officially replaced her mother the school still treated her as a child, and everything went through her mother. Her mother went to see the school's leaders and begged them to let Jingqiu teach when the situation allowed. A few of them made promises. They knew Jingqiu had had good marks and was good teacher-material, it was just a matter of time before they would let her teach, she needn't worry. ‘But just now, she's only just started work and she's not the only one who's replaced their parent. If we let her start teaching now other people might have something to say about it. We have to wait until it won't cause trouble.'

Jingqiu was ecstatic to hear this latest piece of news, and was desperate to tell Old Third at once. But she had heard nothing from him since the day he left. She grew more nervous by the day; she couldn't work out why he wasn't coming to see her. There were three possible reasons, she thought. The first was that he had contracted tetanus but she reassured herself that should Old Third have died of tetanus Fang would have told her. The second was that Old Third was keeping the promise he had made her mother, and that he was waiting for her position to be made permanent before visiting. But he had also acknowledged his planned deceit. ‘So, it turns out I'm a traitor,' he had said. Had he subsequently decided not to be a traitor after all?

There was one more possibility, that her mother's interrogation had angered him so much that he wasn't going to come back. She knew of many such stories, where the girls' parents were so harsh towards their future son-in-laws that the young men stormed off in anger. When she thought of this third possibility she started to get angry herself. If he ran away because of that discussion he'd definitely failed the test.

But then she thought that perhaps he was waiting for her, suffering even. Perhaps he often came to Yichang to see her but just didn't have the chance to speak to her. This thought made her angry with her mother. My brother was my age when he had a girlfriend, why are you singling me out to be watched so closely?

After working a while in the canteen, Jingqiu was informed that she was being sent to the school's farm for six months. If she didn't go people would object to her becoming a teacher. If she did go, however, there would be nothing they could say.

The school had just set up a farm in a small village called Fujia Plateau, just beyond Yanjia River, in order for students to take turns working on it. The reason for choosing Fujia Plateau was because one of the heads of the school, Mr Zheng, was from the village, and it was only due to this connection that the village had agreed to give the school some land, and had even helped them construct some buildings.

The school sent a few teachers to the farm, along with Jingqiu. The women were to take charge of the meals and the men were to lead the students in their physical labour. This first group was the vanguard, preparing the farm for the other students' arrival. Jingqiu was overjoyed to be sent as it meant that she could escape her mother's close surveillance and, furthermore, West Village was only a few kilometres away from Fujia Plateau, so she would be very close to Old Third.

Her mother was a bit nervous but she wasn't nearly as worried as she would have been if Jingqiu had been properly sent down. Jingqiu had a job, and after six months she would be back and teaching. Moreover, she was going with other teachers, so her mother was relatively confident about the arrangement. Most importantly, though, her mother didn't know how close Fujia Plateau was to West Village.

Mr Zheng took this first group to the farm. They were accompanied by a young female teacher in her twenties, Miss Zhao, and another male teacher in his forties, Mr Jian, who had previously taught Jingqiu physics and had often played volleyball with her team. Mr Jian was not tall, but he had previously been a gymnast so his arms were strong, and he often did forward rolls when catching the ball, gaining cheers of admiration from the girls.

Not far from the farm, on the other side of the mountain, a road big enough to drive the smallest tractor along wound its way down to a small town called Chrysanthemum Field, from which buses left for Yanjia River. The school had one of these small tractors, the type known as ‘Little Hauler', which they used to transport goods to market. The young man in his twenties who drove the tractor was called Zhou Jianxin or ‘Little Zhou'. His father was headmaster of Yichang's No. 12 Middle School. Little Zhou wasn't sent down after graduation due to a heart condition, and instead learnt to operate these tractors. Jingqiu had seen Little Zhou transporting goods before, usually when she was working in a factory as part of her school work. Later, once she started working in the school's kitchens, she used to see him regularly, his face covered in engine oil, tinkering with a ‘Little Hauler', encircled by a group of small children watching him while he desperately tried to jig it back to life using a crank.

Little Zhou was not only called Jianxin – just like Old Third – but he also looked a bit like him. They were of similar height, although Little Zhou was a bit skinnier, his skin a little darker, and his back wasn't as straight. They shared one special characteristic, however: when they laughed their whole faces would crinkle up.

The four teachers, including Jingqiu, took the bus from Yichang to Yanjia River and from there they walked to Fujia Plateau and then to Chrysanthemum Field. On the walk up the mountain, the teachers sang a series of songs known as the Songs of the Long March, and as there were no other people on the mountain even the more shy among them gathered their courage and really let go, singing at the tops of their voices. Little Zhou drove the tractor the thirty or so kilometres from the school although he had to stop just short of the farm as the road ahead had yet to be repaired.

The buildings on the farm were basic. The sleeping quarters had earth floors that had not even been flattened, but were just made from clods of earth. There was no glass in the windows, nor was anything put to cover them, so they used bamboo hats. The beds were made from heaped-up earth with a couple of wooden boards laid on top. Jingqiu and Miss Zhao shared a room, and as there were no bolts across the door, they propped a large wooden stick against it in lieu of a lock.

The first thing they did was build a toilet by digging a hole and resting two planks across it. Then they stuck a few poles made from a nearby sorghum tree in rows into the ground, creating walls on all sides. According to legend, a dangerous animal that the local people called a
balangzi
stalked this part of the mountain, and it especially liked to attack people who were doing their business at night. It would come up to you and lick your bottom with its tongue, which was covered in long quills, before it gouged out your intestines and gorged on them. Everyone carried an axe with them whenever they went to the toilet for fear of such an encounter. People did their utmost to avoid going after dark, and if they really couldn't avoid it, the men would run round the back of the house and relieve themselves there. Jingqiu always needed to go once or twice in the evenings, so she had no choice but to brave the couple of hundred metres to the toilet, axe in hand.

Little Zhou also lived at the front of the building and if he didn't close his door he could see when Jingqiu went out. She soon discovered that every time she came back from the toilet Little Zhou would be standing by the path, smoking, perfectly positioned so that she wouldn't feel awkward and yet were anything to happen he could run up to save her. When she walked past they would greet each other and walk back to the building, one behind and one in front.

The first days after they arrived there were no vegetables on the mountain for them to eat, so everyone brought out their own private supplies. When the weather was clear they would all go to collect wild onions and wild garlic, and when it was raining they went picking
dijianpi
, a sort of black fungus they cleaned and fried. Miss Zhao and Mr Jian would always go off together leaving Jingqiu on her own, but before long Little Zhou would appear and they would work together.

Life was hard on the farm, but the teachers were lively and witty, so for Jingqiu the days passed quickly. During the day they worked and in the evening, before going to sleep, they would gather and tell stories. Jingqiu discovered that Mr Jian was particularly good at telling historical stories, Mr Zheng and Mrs Zhao were better at folk tales, and Little Zhou's speciality was stories involving Sherlock Holmes.

Once they were more or less finished with their preparations the farm welcomed its first group of students. Their first task was to repair the road up on the mountain so that the tractor could drive all the way up to the L-shaped building on the farm. Once they finished Little Zhou and his tractor became regular features of the landscape. He loved wearing an old army uniform with a pattern of wrinkles that seemed to suggest he might be stuffing it in the pickling barrel every evening before bed. The army hat he wore was a sort of floppy cap, and looked like the ones the soldiers of the routed Nationalist army used to wear. He was very focused when driving, riding at lightning speed, leaping up and down in his seat like an unstoppable force, before screeching to a halt at the kitchen door. As soon as the students heard the ‘du-du-du' sound of his tractor they poured out of their rooms. The tractor was their only connection to the outside world.

As usual, Little Zhou's face was smeared with engine oil, a look that had almost become a badge of his professionalism and skill. Sometimes Jingqiu would point to the oil on his face, and he would wipe it with his sleeve, more often than not spreading it still more widely across his cheeks. Jingqiu would double over in laughter and he would lean towards her so that she could wipe it for him, startling her into running away.

The five adults worked well together. At regular intervals either Jingqiu or Miss Zhao would ride with Little Zhou on his tractor to buy vegetables and rice. After a couple of times Miss Zhao said she didn't want to go any more, she couldn't stand the smell of diesel oil, and after a few kilometres of du-du-du her bottom came out in blisters. Jingqiu was not bothered by the smell so she went instead. They would leave after breakfast and try their best to be back in the afternoon in time to make the students' dinner so that Miss Zhao wouldn't have to do it on her own.

Since she and Little Zhou got to know each other quite well, she decided to ask him to drive her to West Village. She wanted to know what Old Third was doing. So the next time they went to buy vegetables she asked him if they could make a detour so that she could give a book back to a friend.

‘Is your friend a girl or a boy?' he asked.

‘What does it matter?' Jingqiu asked in return.

‘I'll take you if it's a girl, if it's a boy I won't,' he shot back, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Forget it, if you think it's inconvenient.'

Little Zhou had made no mention of it being inconvenient. After they had bought the rice they started out on their return journey but he kept stopping to speak to people on the road. Jingqiu had no idea what he was up to so when he said, ‘We've arrived at West Village, where do you want to go?' her mind was all of a muddle. She had never approached West Village by this road before. She stood for a long time trying to get her bearings before eventually pointing in the direction of the geological unit: ‘It should be that way.'

Little Zhou drove the tractor right up to the unit's sheds, stopped and said, ‘I'll wait for you here, but if you take too long I'll come running in to save you.'

Jingqiu told him, ‘No need, I'll be out at once,' and walked over to the sheds, her heart thumping so fast she thought it would jump out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and knocked on Old Third's door, holding the book she had taken as cover. She stood for some time, waiting, but no one answered. She realised that Old Third was probably working. She was disappointed, but she was not going to give up, so she went from room to room to see if someone could tell her where he was. She couldn't find a single soul.

She went back to Old Third's room, and with almost all hope of finding him gone she knocked one last time. To her surprise, the door opened. A man came to the door, whom she recognised as the middle-aged man she had met the last time she came. She glanced into the room and saw a woman combing her hair; she looked as if she had just got out of bed.