Wild Ginger (12 page)

My mother was having difficulty. She asked Wild Ginger about being a sunflower.

"We won't have any costumes or props until the final recital."

So Mother was stuck. It didn't take long for her to relax—she saw other women who danced just as poorly.
They paid no attention to the music. No matter how many times Wild Ginger demonstrated the combo, they couldn't get it. I was sure that they were looking to be dismissed. But Wild Ginger was outrageously patient.

She sang and danced, demonstrating over and over again:

The Yangtze River roared toward the East,
The flower heads chased the red sun.
Enthusiastically we dance and sing to you,
Our great helmsman, Chairman Mao.
We wish a long life,
A long, long life to you.

Mother and her lady friends began to enjoy themselves. They chatted whenever Wild Ginger left them alone to practice. They moved their arms back and forth like brooms in sweeping motion. One woman was giving out a recipe. "I brew my own bean sprouts." She grapevined her legs. "The trick is that you have to put a wet cloth over the soaked beans to keep the basket moist at all times. And you put it in a straw rice warmer at night to keep up the temperature."

Mother was very interested. She copied the woman and twisted her legs from side to side. "I failed a couple of times trying to brew my own bean sprouts." She twisted her shoulders. "I'll try again, keeping your advice in mind."

"It saves you a lot of money if you figure out how to do it. It is the cheapest way to provide protein for your kids."

"Here, attention, everybody," Wild Ginger called. "'Enthusiastically we dance and sing to you, our great helmsman, Chairman Mao.' You must really show your expression! Like this, watch me! Like this, smile!"

Mother showed her teeth and quickened her steps.

"Do you know shortages are coming?" The woman put a hand over her mouth and bent toward Mother. "The government is running out of oil, salt, and matches. My son told me—he works for the national storage department. The warehouses have been emptied to keep the supply line alive to poor countries like Vietnam and Tanzania. We are drained but we can't afford to lose face. Chairman Mao has to look good to the world. But the soil doesn't understand this. It doesn't produce more just because we need it."

Mother shook her head, moving her limbs absent-mindedly.

"It's going to be terrible," the woman went on. "I have been stocking up."

"I have no use for my coupons, because I don't have money. It takes money to spend the coupons, you see, big sister," Mother said worriedly. "It's not that I don't need it. I need it badly. I have six kids. Six bottomless wells to fill. Seven ounces of oil per person per month has never been enough, yet I can't even afford to spend the oil coupons. We eat rice with plain salt, but still—"

"I have a trick for you, big sister..."

"You!" Wild Ginger's patience finally ran out. She pointed at the woman. "You have been talking since you got here. Not only do you show no loyalty to Chairman
Mao, you have been distracting others! Would you like to be sent to a mind-brushing school?"

"I'm terribly sorry!" The woman quickly moved away from my mother.

But Mother was not ready to give up the conversation. She was eager to learn the trick about stocking up. She tried to get closer to the woman.

"Attention!" Wild Ginger yelled loudly. "Now we are coming to the end of the dance. We are making a shiplike form. We will have the front with One-Eye Grandpa holding the national flag, the back with all of us holding Mao books, and a 'smokestack' in the middle with a Mao picture held high." She began to make arrangements by moving people around. "Listen, everyone has to fit into the formation."

My mother's friend was placed to be a "frame" of a "Mao picture holder." She and another woman were instructed to bend their knees to form a "ladder."

"We need someone to get up on their knees to hold the Mao picture." Wild Ginger turned to the crowd.

"How about me?" Mother volunteered. She must have seen the possibility of hiding her face behind the picture.

Wild Ginger hesitated.

"I am light," Mother added. "I'd like to show my loyalty toward our great leader by holding his very picture!"

"Are your limbs strong enough?"

"Chairman Mao's teaching will certainly strengthen me."

I was surprised at Mother's quick wit.

"Wonderful, aunt! You've got the job!"

Before Wild Ginger gave the instruction, Mother climbed on the "ladder."

Evergreen came and passed Mother the Mao picture. "Be careful, aunt!" He turned around and told the two women who were holding my mother's legs to keep her still. "Stabilize yourselves first. Let her down once she gets up there."

"No," Wild Ginger corrected him, "the pose has to be held for at least forty seconds so the stage will seem to freeze. That's how we'll make the most powerful impression!"

"You've got the right soldier for the task," Mother yelled.

"Move on." Wild Ginger went to arrange the other parts of the "ship."

"So what's the trick, big sister?" Mother finally resumed the conversation.

With her knees and arms trembling trying to hold my mother, the woman replied as her breath shortened, "Secretly sell your coupons to village dealers. They come to the city once a month to exchange sesame oil, salt, and matches for rice coupons and cotton coupons and oil coupons."

"But when exactly will they be coming next time? How will I find them?"

"Is everybody ready?" came Wild Ginger's call. "Let's practice. Ready? One, two, and three, begin! 'Enthusiastically we dance and sing to you, our great helmsman, Chairman Mao!'"

The crowd sang.

The drums beat loudly.

The accordion players worked their bellows as hard as they could.

"The fourth Tuesday of the month!" The woman's knee began to tremble so violently that Mother's knee almost buckled. "Six-thirty at the corner of Chia Chia Lane."

"I'll be there!" Mother said excitedly. It was followed by a deep sigh. "The reason I keep the coupons is because I hope that one day I'll be able to spend them. To buy cloth I need those coupons. All my bedsheets are worn out. My children dress like beggars."

"You'd better make use of those coupons before they expire."

"Will I get caught if I am seen?"

"Do it so that you won't get caught, big sister!" the woman gasped. "I've ... never ... gotten caught. Gee, this is torture."

The Mao picture in my mother's hands shook. "Thank you!" came Mother's voice from behind the frame.

"Oh, Buddha Heaven! I can't..." The woman's knee gave in.

"A long life to you! A long, long life to you!" the chorus sang.

Bang!

The Mao picture fell.

The "smokestack" collapsed.

The "ship" fell apart.

"'The masses have a potentially inexhaustible enthusiasm for socialism.'" Wild Ginger and Evergreen resumed their Mao study. "'Those who can only follow the old routine in a revolutionary period are utterly incapable of seeing this enthusiasm. They are blind and all is dark ahead of them. At times they go so far as to confound right and wrong and turn things upside down. Haven't we come across enough persons of this type?'"

It was eight o'clock at night. I was in the closet. Wild Ginger's voice was tired. She had been working to teach the Zhong dance for days without a stop. She slept four hours a night. Now she was dozing off. "Why don't you take over?" she said to Evergreen.

Evergreen was not enthusiastic. But he followed Wild Ginger's wish. "'... Those who simply follow the old routine invariably underestimate the people's enthusiasm. Let something new appear and they always disapprove and
rush to oppose it' ... Wild Ginger!" He noticed that Wild Ginger's head was like a hen's pecking grain.

"What's wrong, Evergreen?" Wild Ginger muttered. "Keep going."

"'...Afterward, they have to admit defeat and do a little self-criticism. But the next time something new appears, they go through the same process all over again. This is their pattern of behavior in regard to anything and everything new..."'

Evergreen slowly put down the Mao book and moved to sit next to Wild Ginger. He paused for a few seconds. When he saw there was no response, he bent his head to reach for her left cheek.

"Go on reading, please." She struggled with her sleepiness and turned her head away.

"'...Such people,'" he went on but began to kiss her at the same time, "'...are always passive, always fail to move forward at the critical moment ... and always have to be given a shove in the back before they move a step..."' He kissed her neck fervently.

"Pah!" She turned around and slapped him in the face. "We have a contract! Don't tell me that you want to break it!"

He rose. His face was red. "I am quitting."

"Get out, then." Her tone was sharp.

"But ... you were bored to death and falling asleep yourself."

"How dare you accuse me of being bored with Mao
study! I am not sleepy! You are the problem! Your mind is getting dirtier every day. I am sure you are not here to study Maoism but to enjoy bourgeois indulgence."

He was insulted. In a quick motion he came and grabbed her shoulders. "Why did you insist on making us a team if you are so holy? Why? To keep me here for what? For the pleasure of your eyes? What do you want from me? You know, deep down, you know that we are not interested in Mao but in each other. Our difference is that you won't admit it while I do. I am not ashamed of how I feel. You can't deal with your feelings. I guess being a national icon is more important than being yourself ... But why drag me along? Why not let me go? Does it give you pleasure to set my feelings on fire and watch me burn?"

"Evergreen, the truth is"—she took a gasp of air—"that I am not burning any less. We have to learn to conquer our weakness. Together we must help each other."

"Wild Ginger, you must not ignore the fact that I don't take being a Maoist as the mission of my life."

"That's not correct, Evergreen. All you need to win is a strong will."

Losing all patience, he shouted, "I despise your will! Your preaching reminds me of those who bound the feet of their girls and castrated their boys!"

"What did I do? What harm have I caused you?" she asked tearfully.

"I can't go on with you." He let her go and turned his face away.

"You've disappointed me." Her tone was cold.

He tried to stay composed but his emotion betrayed him. His facial muscles began to twitch.

She stood up. Her lips moved as if trying to say something. But no sound came out.

He got up, walked toward her.

She stepped back.

He began to open his shirt, button by button.

"What ... what are you doing?" Her syllables slurred.

He gave no answer but unfastened his belt.

Before she turned away, he stepped out of his pants.

"Animal!" She shut her eyes.

He was erect.

"Traitor! Coward!" she shouted.

He jumped on her and pushed her down under his knees.

She struggled, trying to push him away.

He began to rip off her clothes. Her Mao jacket was pulled open.

Inside the closet, I became short of breath. What should I do? Do I jump out to help?

His hands went to explore her body.

She fought fiercely. But she didn't call my name. I was waiting.

She scratched the skin on his neck.

Finally she got a chance and bit his right shoulder.

He groaned. As if inflamed by the pain he was determined to take her.

They rolled on the floor. They were about eight yards away from me. Wild Ginger was pressed down on her back. He was on top of her. His nose was pointing directly at me.

She screamed.

I cracked open the closet door—my subconscious had taken the scream as a signal to act.

He raised his eyes and suddenly he saw me.

I froze.

We were eye to eye. Evergreen and I.

I couldn't move.

He withdrew.

She sat up, not noticing that Evergreen and I had discovered each other.

He sat himself on the floor like a balloon leaking air.

She buttoned up her clothes and started to fix her hair.

Evergreen got up and put his clothes back on. He went to the water jar and poured himself a bowl of water.

Wild Ginger went to the bathroom behind the wall.

I carefully closed the closet door.

Evergreen sat by the kitchen table. He picked up the Mao book and glanced in my direction.

I stood frozen in place. I wanted to come out, but was afraid that Wild Ginger would be upset. As I pondered what to do next, Wild Ginger reappeared.

"Maybe we can figure out a way to solve this problem," she said. "Chairman Mao teaches us, 'There is no problem that is unsolvable by a true revolutionary.'"

Evergreen put down the Mao book and folded his arms in front of his chest.

"I am here for you, Evergreen, I care about you. It's just ... I can't have ... Well, to put it flat and straight ... I can't commit to a relationship with you. It is not easy for me to be where I am. You must understand that. I have decided to live up to Chairman Mao's expectations."

"You sound like the Ching dynasty empress dowager. You need me to be your eunuch in chief."

"It's unkind of you to say that," she said painfully. "You know that I want to make you happy."

Evergreen laughed bitterly. "By torturing me?"

"I'll do anything for you except make love to you."

Evergreen stood up.

"Wait!" she cried. "I ... I don't mind if you ... play with yourself."

It took him a moment to understand what she meant. He sat back down and turned in my direction. As if suddenly reaching a decision, he seemed to relax. Almost happily, he said, "There is one thing you can do to help me."

"I'm listening."

"Read me Mao quotations while I do it."

"You agree with my suggestion then, don't you?" She looked at him. "That we carry on a spiritual relationship?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."