Nanjing Requiem (24 page)

Dr. Wu also wrote Minnie that Mrs. Dennison would return from her yearlong furlough in the States, so we were pretty certain that the old woman would come back to Jinling. Had she been here the winter before, she might have remained behind like Minnie and opposed setting up the two current programs on campus: she’d always maintained that Jinling must grow into a top women’s college, well known internationally, so as to attract more funding.

Minnie and I agreed with President Wu that the middle school should be closed in due course, but for the time being it met the locals’ needs and there was no reason to dissolve it. More than four hundred girls had sat for the entrance test the previous fall and only a third of them were admitted, placed in four grades. For that and for the quality courses we offered, Jinling still commanded a fine reputation in Nanjing.

In her reply to President Wu, Minnie gave two reasons why restarting the college in the near future would not be feasible. First, we wouldn’t have enough freshmen, because in times like these few families would send their girls to Nanjing for college. Second, we would need a stronger faculty with college teaching experience, which again was unavailable. Minnie even asked Dr. Wu to encourage some of Jinling’s faculty members to return to Nanjing. Recently some foreigners, mostly American academics and missionaries, had arrived, but after speaking with our students and looking around, none of them had any desire to stay. Minnie added in her letter: “It was so easy for them to talk without committing themselves, and I have no choice but to depend on the Chinese faculty I assembled from the highways and byways. They are good enough for our current programs but will be inadequate for college teaching.” I totally agreed with her.

The Homecraft School had Dr. Wu’s blessing, though we had started it not long ago, in 1934, as a two-year program. Mrs. Dennison must have groused to Dr. Wu about our two ongoing programs and insisted that Jinling must excel in higher education again. Before taking her furlough the previous year, the old woman had even talked about starting some master’s programs here. Minnie had been lukewarm about that, though she’d never objected to it.

She had her letter to Dr. Wu delivered to Bob Wilson and asked him to mail it from Shanghai, where he’d go that Saturday. After the messenger left, Minnie resumed working on the accounts. Somehow, hard as she tried, she couldn’t balance the books for October. A twenty-six-yuan difference was still there. If only we could hire a bookkeeper, but that was impossible. The capital used to have all types of professionals, and yet nowadays you couldn’t find a decent accountant. Small wonder that even the Japanese complained that they didn’t have enough capable Chinese to run the government. Big Liu often said he wished his daughter, Meiyan, had studied accounting.

The messenger returned at noon and said that some people belonging to the International Relief Committee had been apprehended. Minnie telephoned Searle and Lewis and found out that the arrests were prompted by a murder at the Japanese embassy. Someone had slipped poison into a samovar there the day before; two guards died and several people were hospitalized, including a diplomat. The police rounded up some Chinese employees and interrogated them. Then they went to the IRC and arrested six of the leaders, all of them Chinese, on the grounds that they had participated in anti-Japanese activities. Now the police declared that these men were involved in the murder. Lewis and Searle were certain that none of them had had anything to do with it and that the Japanese were just exploiting the case as a pretext to disband the relief organization. One of the six IRC men was a part-time math teacher here, and three of them had their daughters in our middle school. The girls begged Minnie to intercede for their fathers.

Minnie spoke with Lewis, who helped her compose a letter of protest demanding the immediate release of the six men. The next day she delivered it to Vice-Consul Tanaka at the Japanese embassy, where she learned that the six men were being kept in the prison downtown. Even though they’d been tortured and their feet had been shackled, they still refused to admit any wrongdoing.

30

T
HE FIRST ANNIVERSARY
of Nanjing’s fall was approaching, and the city was under martial law again. People were warned not to assemble in public during the next few days except for celebration; at Jinling, the students, especially the middle schoolers, had been talking about how to commemorate the shameful day.

On the evening before the anniversary, Minnie gathered the girls in the auditorium in the Central Building. She urged them not to endanger themselves and the school. Instead they should study hard and help others, especially the destitute. That was the best way to serve China, which needed capable and rational people, not mobs. Besides, they mustn’t let hatred run their lives.

The girls listened quietly, all of them staring at Minnie; none dared speak against her. Even when she was done and invited them to voice their opinions, nobody let out a peep, but I could feel the tension in the hall. We’d thought of having a special service to commemorate the day, but, afraid that it might stir up the students’ emotions, we decided against it. Minnie told Luhai to make sure the front gate was guarded strictly.

The next morning, many girls wore black armbands. Both Donna and Alice reported that their students did the same. To Minnie’s dismay, Shanna also had on a crape. “You shouldn’t be such a leader,” Minnie reproached her.

“I might wear this even if they didn’t,” Shanna said, touching the black cloth safety-pinned to her sleeve.

Surprised, Minnie went on, “I understand your feelings, but it’s too risky to do this. Some turncoats might snitch on us.”

“I’m also Chinese.”

At that moment I loved the girl for saying those words, though I didn’t wear a black armband mainly because I wouldn’t create more trouble for Minnie. I was worried about the students’ safety besides. Fortunately, Luhai and the gatemen did a good job of preventing the girls from going out—however loudly they chorused patriotic songs and whatever slogans they chanted, they were kept on campus. We felt somewhat relieved. If the officials demanded an explanation, we could say that the school had taken measures to discourage hostility toward Japan, but many students had lost family members and mourned their losses spontaneously.

Some girls also fasted that day, and Meiyan fought with another student whose father served in the puppet municipality.

Miss Lou came early that afternoon and said that Yulan had disappeared. For several days the madwoman had wanted to go downtown, saying she must protest the Japanese occupation on the first anniversary of the city’s fall. Massaging her forehead with her claw-like fingers, Miss Lou said, “I stopped her a couple of times, but she slipped out this morning.”

“Any idea where she might be?” Minnie asked.

“She must’ve gone downtown. When she heard about the martial law, she couldn’t stop spouting curses. She said she would run away to join the guerrillas, but I didn’t take that seriously and thought she couldn’t possibly figure out where the Reds were. It was my fault—I should’ve been more vigilant and shouldn’t have let her visit my neighbors.”

Minnie had a number of people called in and asked everyone to go out and look for Yulan. I said, “That mad girl is our curse. We should’ve washed our hands of her long ago.”

“Anling, that’s rubbish,” Miss Lou said. “Now’s not the time to speak like that.” I glowered at the evangelical worker but couldn’t find a word to counter her.

Big Liu said, “I hope the girl won’t fall into Japanese hands again.”

In spite of her insanity, Yulan was somewhat good-looking, so we feared she might get hurt. We set out to look for her.

Minnie and I walked east along Zhujiang Road. The minute we passed the half-burned building that had housed the Justice Ministry a year before, we saw that most houses had disappeared, and where they’d stood were piles of bricks and stones. The Japanese had been tearing down homes to get the materials for building roads. For each house they paid two yuan as compensation; whether the owner accepted it or not, he had to move out and surrender the property. We’d heard about that operation but hadn’t expected to see such large-scale demolition.

It was a sullen wintry day, the gray clouds threatening snow. The sycamore and oak trees along the street were swaying and whistling as gusts of wind swept through them. A rusty sheet of corrugated iron tumbled across the street and fell into a roadside ditch. Here and there scummy puddles, like giant festering sores, were encrusted with ice on the edges. In the distance firecrackers were exploding while drums rolled,
suona
horns blared, and an array of Japanese flags flitted across the thoroughfare—a celebration of the occupation was in full swing. About a thousand Chinese, including some school pupils, were waving tiny flags and shouting slogans in support of the Japanese rule. Some even chanted “Banzai, banzai!” while a procession of men and women was performing a dance on stilts, wearing green and vermilion gowns and waving fans. The cacophonous music jarred the ears like shrieks and screams. On the sidewalk ahead stood a truck, from which a photographer pointed a bulky camera at the celebrators, the black cloth over his head and shoulders. I panted, “I hope those traitors will be rounded up and sentenced to death when our army takes this city back.”

The second I said that, I remembered my son, Haowen. A piercing pang gripped my heart and made me speechless.

Minnie shook her head in silence. As we turned a corner near the former Central Hospital, a crowd gathered ahead of us. We caught sight of Yulan and hastened our steps.

The madwoman stood in the middle of a semicircle of people, holding a small triangular flag that bore these words:
WIPE OUT
JAPANESE DEVILS!
She was addressing the crowd, some of whom cheered her on.

Minnie and I jostled through the spectators and reached her. “Give me the flag,” Minnie said.

Yulan stared at her for a moment, then snorted, “No. Don’t you see I’m using it?”

“Come, let’s go home.” I reached out for her arm.

The madwoman stepped aside and said, “You’re just a lackey of the foreigners. You go with her, but leave me alone.” She jerked her thumb at Minnie.

“Please, Yulan. It’s dangerous here,” Minnie begged. “Come home with us.”

“I have no home anymore. Everything was burned by the Japs.”

“Don’t you respect Miss Lou? She was very upset when she found out you were gone.”

“I don’t want to live with that Bible freak anymore. She’s obsessed with Jesus Christ and says we’re all his slaves. Every day she made me memorize poems from the Old Testament. I’m sick of it. I want to be a free woman.”

“All right, you can stay with us,” Minnie offered, “and take any class you want to. We won’t force anything on you, I promise.”

“Go chase yourself, evil American!”

I grabbed Yulan’s wrist to wrench the flag from her hand, but the madwoman shoved me and cursed me loudly.

People whooped and guffawed, and some egged her on. Minnie said to them, “Don’t you feel ashamed to mislead a sick woman? She was molested by the Japanese and lost her mind. You all know what kind of risk she’s running to stand here raving aloud. If you care about your compatriots, you should go away or help us bring her back.”

Some people dropped their eyes and a few started away. Minnie tugged at Yulan’s sleeve and begged, “Please, let’s go home.”

“No! Where’s my home? You sold my parents to the Japs. I hate those Eastern devils. I’ll settle up with them one of these days.”

As if on cue, three Japanese policemen arrived, each wearing a peaked cap with a tiny rising-sun flag printed on the right side. Their appearance scattered the crowd. Even Yulan clammed up in terror.

“You come with us,” one of the police, a glassy-eyed man, ordered her in stiff Mandarin.

The madwoman let out a groan and turned to Minnie and me. “Officer,” Minnie explained, “she’s out of her mind. We’re taking her back to our school and won’t let her out again.”

“No, she attempted to incite a riot and must come with us. She’s an activist against Japan, and we shall question her before we decide what to do about her.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“That’s our business.”

“Can we come with you?”

“No, you cannot.”

“You have no right to detain her.”

“Don’t poke your nose into our work.”

By now the other two policemen had caught hold of Yulan, who was screaming helplessly, her legs bent to hold her ground. Minnie glanced sideways at me, and I felt my left cheek twitching. She rushed forward and reached out for Yulan, but the officer stretched out his arms and blocked her. Then he waved for the other policemen to drag the madwoman away. He turned to follow them.

“Let go of my hands!” Yulan yelled, struggling to break loose. “You smell like a stinky fish shop. Damn it, let your grandma go. Help, help, help me!”

“Shut up, rotten cunt!” The officer slapped her across the face, and instantly she went quiet.

Minnie set off following them, but I clutched her arm and pulled her to a stop. “It’s no use, Minnie. We’d better go back now.”

The officer spun around, having sensed Minnie’s attempt, and spread his arms again. Struggling out of my grip, Minnie lunged at him with all her might. The man dodged and punched her on the jaw. She fell and gave a cry of pain but scrambled to her feet instantly. “I won’t let you take her away!” she shouted, and plunged forward again, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth.

A middle-aged Chinese man held her by the waist from behind, saying, “Please, Principal Vautrin, don’t follow them!” Another few people stepped over to restrain her. A woman began wiping the blood off Minnie’s face with a silk handkerchief.

Minnie stamped her feet, tears flowing down her cheeks while her nose quivered. “Damn you! Damn you, bastards!” she screamed at the backs of the receding policemen.

31

F
OR DAYS
Minnie called various offices and visited her friends and acquaintances to find out Yulan’s whereabouts, but nobody could tell her.