The Boat to Redemption (26 page)

I once ran into Zhao Chunmei at the barbershop. She was wearing white high-heels and holding a white handbag as she sat in
one of the barber’s chairs, waiting for Old Cui to do her hair. She’d aged a bit, but had lost neither her charm nor her spite
and resentment. I didn’t recognize her at first, but she knew who I was right away. ‘What’s
he
doing here?’ she demanded.

Before Old Cui could reply, Huixian laughed. ‘What’s he doing here? Good question. This is the People’s Barbershop. He counts
as “people”, and he’s here to have his hair cut.’

Zhao Chunmei snorted. ‘The people – him? If he is, then there are no class enemies. Do you know that he writes counter-revolutionary
slogans? Mostly targeting my brother!’

Enemies are bound to meet on narrow roads. It was an awkward encounter. Coming face to face with women who’d had relationships
with my father not only made me blush, but threw
my heart into turmoil. I still recalled their names, those few people who had been instrumental in my sexual initiation. Now
those ageing faces, thickening waists and limbs, and cellulite-laden buttocks brought shame on those wonderful, moving, desirable,
tantalizing names. I was ashamed to let my mind dwell on thoughts of their sexual encounters with Father, but then his reminder
was confirmed: my crotch underwent an unexpected occurrence, as my wayward organ broke loose from my underwear and subtle
changes appeared in the creases of my trousers. All of a sudden, I had trouble breathing. I thought I could see my father’s
bizarre penis; after surgery, it had sort of regained its original appearance, but it was still ugly, comical even. Why had
this mark of shame been transplanted on to my body? Crushed by unimaginable terror, I held tightly to the smock and could
not hold up my head. I heard Huixian’s voice – she was defending me. ‘Don’t get involved in class struggle and political issues,’
she was saying. ‘Opposing Chairman Mao or the Communist Party, now that’s counter-revolutionary. He was opposing Secretary
Zhao, an ordinary section chief, so nothing written about him can be considered counter-revolutionary.’

With a click of her tongue, Zhao Chunmei turned and attacked Huixian. ‘What are you to him?’ she demanded. ‘Who are you to
defend him? An official? What sort of political stance do you call that? Writing about my brother isn’t counter-revolutionary,
is that what you’re saying? Are you trying to stir up the masses in opposition to leaders of the Party?’

‘Don’t try to stick that label on to me! Your brother is not the Party, and opposing him is not opposing the Party.’ There
was anger in Huixian’s voice as she picked up a brush and began tapping it against the back of her chair. ‘Why take your anger
out on me? Who am I to him? Who is he to me? I’ve got no mother and no father, so who is anybody to me? Nobody! But you can’t
stop me from saying what’s fair. Chairman Mao has said the
masses have the right to state their opinions, so who is Secretary Zhao to keep the masses from voicing theirs?’

‘That’s not opinion, that’s rumour!’ Knowing she was not going to win an argument with Huixian, Zhao Chunmei turned back to
me. ‘No, it wasn’t a rumour,’ she shouted, ‘it was a venomous attack. All the time, that’s what he did, write lies all over
the place, like: “Zhao Chuntang is an alien class element”, which had a widespread pernicious effect. Even grammar-school
children were asking, “What’s an alien class element?”’

The shop went quiet, as people pondered the meaning of alien class element.

I saw that slogan everywhere too, but still didn’t know what it meant. Little Chen was the first to voice his confusion. ‘What
does alien mean?’ he asked me. ‘How about explaining it to us.’

I refused his request. ‘Who am I to explain anything? Besides, I didn’t write it, so why should I be the one to explain?’

‘If you didn’t write it, who did?’ Zhao Chunmei bellowed. ‘You haven’t got the guts to own up to your own deeds! You’re like
your father, hiding in dark corners to spread rumours, sling mud and act like a hooligan.’

I sat there affecting the ‘a real man doesn’t fight with a woman’ pose. Old Cui considered alien class elements on a par with
morally bankrupt elements, while Teacher Qian from the Milltown high school announced authoritatively that alien class elements
were the same as degenerates. You could have heard a pin drop. But Little Chen wasn’t quite finished. ‘What do you say, Kongpi?
Does it mean the same as degenerate?’

‘Sort of,’ I replied ambiguously, ‘but not quite. Alien class element is a more serious label, I think.’

Before I could elaborate on my vague comment, Zhao Chunmei jumped out of her chair and rushed over, blind with anger. ‘What
do you mean, morally bankrupt and degenerate? My brother is a
good and decent man and an upright official. Your father is the morally bankrupt and degenerate one. Go back and tell him
that cutting off half his dick means nothing, and even if he’d cut it all off and turned himself into a eunuch, that wouldn’t
mean anything either. He’s a sex fiend, a liar, a bastard, and a criminal who will never hold his head up in society again!
Listen, everyone, here’s the latest news. Ku Wenxuan palmed himself off as the descendant of a martyr for decades, but now
we know that he is not Deng Shaoxiang’s son, he’s the son of the river pirate Old Qiu. The woman they call Rotten Rapeseed
was his mother, not Deng Shaoxiang. Before Liberation she was a riverboat prostitute.’

Silence settled over the shop. Customers and barbers alike were tongue-tied. But only momentarily. Like oil popping in a pan,
one person spun around in his swivel chair, while others tried but failed to stifle giggles as a frenzy of whispering began.
Huixian was the first to come to my defence. ‘Have you gone mad, Zhao Chunmei?’ she demanded. ‘Your mouth is going to get
you into trouble. Even if their whole family are your mortal enemies, you still don’t have the right to say whatever you want
about their ancestors. You could bring the wrath of the heavens down on your head.’

‘Did I say anything about their ancestors?’ Zhao shot back. ‘I don’t have time to waste on that, even if could. I’m telling
you, people, it’s confidential information, but my brother says that the next time Ku tries to file an appeal, my brother
will go public with it.’

It took Old Cui and Little Chen, plus some of the customers, to keep me from charging at Zhao Chunmei. ‘Calm down,’ they said.
‘Don’t fly off the handle. Don’t demean yourself by reacting to a woman’s empty-headed talk. If it’s confidential information,
it could be true, it could be false. We’re the only ones who heard it, and it won’t go any further. You’re OK with that, aren’t
you?’

Working together, they managed to bundle me out of the shop,
followed by Zhao Chunmei’s shrewish comments. ‘Where are you taking him?’ she said. ‘Bring him back in here. I want him here,
so I can settle things with him once and for all. And if he lays a hand on me, I’ll see him punished by law.’

There was no calming me down. I fired off a stream of filthy, almost hysterical curses, which drew the attention of passers-by
on the street. Holding my arm with all his might, Old Cui shouted to Huixian, ‘Come out here, I can’t hold him. He’ll listen
to you.’

She ran out and glared at me. ‘Do you think that kind of filthy talk makes you a man? Why provoke her? You can’t win with
a woman like that, especially with what your father owes her. So leave now before a crowd starts to gather and she goes into
broadcast mode, blaring the news to anyone who’ll listen. Put yourself in your father’s position. Do you think he could stand
it if this news reached him?’

Huixian’s advice calmed me down, and I decided to avoid further conflict. I walked across the street to the cotton-fluffing
shop to wait for Zhao Chunmei to come outside. I hated her with a passion. The shop’s proprietor came out to ask what was
going on, but the look in my eyes sent her scurrying back inside, afraid of what I might do.

I waited a long time, but no Zhao Chunmei. Huixian came out with a kettle. ‘Still here? What fiendish plan are you cooking
up? Are you going to confront her alone out here? I tell you, calm down. A real man would not fight with a woman. So what
does that make you?’

I shook my head. ‘You water your flowers and don’t worry about me.’ To be honest, I wasn’t sure why I was waiting for Zhao
Chunmei. What was I going to say to her? I hadn’t decided. What did I plan to do to her? Nothing, given my timid nature. I
watched Huixian water her plants; a new sunflower bloomed, its golden petals having burst open so it could stand tall, fresh
and tender.
It was velvety soft and immature, and I saw Huixian smile as she looked at it.

My gaze was fixed on a young woman and a single sunflower, so when Zhao Chunmei came out of the barbershop, I didn’t know
what to do. She was several metres away when she turned and spat on the ground. For me that was like waking from a dream.

I made up my mind to follow her. Not to retaliate or scare her – the loathing I felt for her took a new direction. I resolved
to make her tell me everything, so I could learn the true secret of Father’s legacy once and for all.

It didn’t take long for Zhao Chunmei to realize that I was following her, and she took that as a threat. At first she kept
turning around and rolling her eyes at me, a sign of contempt, but as the distance between us narrowed, fear crept in, and
she grabbed a mop that was drying in the sun outside a house and pointed it at me. ‘What’s made you so bold all of a sudden?
Why are you following me in broad daylight? Come on,’ she said, ‘I don’t care what you’re planning, just come on.’

I gestured for her to calm down. ‘What’s got you so worked up? I just want to ask you something.’

‘I’ve seen lots of people like you,’ she said. ‘I’m not worked up. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out; if you’ve
got gas, let it out.’

‘Not here,’ I said. ‘Let’s go somewhere where there aren’t so many people.’

Once again she got the wrong idea. Her eyes blazed as she raised the dripping mop over her head and was about to hit me in
the face. ‘Somewhere where there aren’t so many people? It’ll still belong to the Communist Party, even if there’s nobody
there. You think I’m afraid you’ll try to kill me?’

I had to keep moving to stay out of range of the mop. ‘Why don’t you put that down? Don’t worry, I won’t touch you. I just
want to
clarify something. You said my father is Rotten Rapeseed’s son. Where’s your proof?’

‘I don’t need proof, my brother is Zhao Chuntang, a Party leader. Whatever he says is all the proof anyone needs.’

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ I said. ‘If he spouts nonsense in his sleep, is that proof? I’m asking you, how does Zhao Chuntang know
that my father is Rotten Rapeseed’s son? Can he prove it?’

She blinked and pondered my question for a moment before laughing smugly and saying, ‘He’s a leading official, so of course
he can prove it. He read it in a top-secret document.’

Zhao Chunmei’s expression told me everything I needed to know: that what she said was not an empty rumour. My heart fell as
I imagined Zhao Chuntang opening a manila envelope with ‘Top Secret’ stamped mysteriously in red. I imagined what the document
said:
Upon investigation, it has been revealed that Ku Wenxuan is the son of the river pirate Old Qiu and the prostitute Rotten
Rapeseed. Effective immediately, make appropriate changes in all the materials in Ku Wenxuan’s dossier and terminate all financial
benefits for a martyr’s family member
. Then an almost paralysing fear and boiling anger hit me, and I began to quake. Top-secret document? That’s not what it was;
it was a death-dealing document, and I didn’t believe it. Could they change an orphan’s parentage so easily? – a martyr one
day and a prostitute or a bandit the next? I didn’t believe a ridiculous document like that existed. At that moment I was
reminded of the birthmark on Father’s backside. Maybe it had never been a mark of glory, but of sin! Could he ever atone for
his sin? My poor father, my self-confident father, my atoning father, all that remained to him in this world was a single
barge. He had gone into hiding on the river, and if this shameful news were ever to reach him, where could he hide then?

I despaired for my father and, lacking any other course of action, decided to negotiate with Zhao Chunmei. ‘Aunty Zhao –’
Hearing
my own voice, soft, supplicating, ingratiating, I was incredulous. Was that me?

She looked as surprised as I was, her eyes big and round. ‘So now you’re calling me Aunty, are you? Sounds strange to my ears.’
She snorted and produced a little sarcastic smile. ‘Well, it won’t do you any good. I can’t save your father, and wouldn’t
if I could.’

‘I’m begging you, Aunty Zhao. You have to leave him a reason to live. You’re driving him to his death.’

‘Who is? Don’t you put that on me! You never heard me say that pretending to be a martyr’s son or being the son of Rotten
Rapeseed was a death sentence. Take my word for it, the organization has treated him as well as he deserves, and my brother
has showered him with kindness. Even after committing a crime of that magnitude, he still draws his pay and receives his food
rations. And don’t forget, he has a barge, so you have no reason to be dissatisfied with your lot.’

‘I’m begging you, Aunty Zhao, please don’t lump Old Qiu and Rotten Rapeseed together with my father, and please don’t go spreading
this around.’

‘I’ve spread nothing. It’s confidential information, and if you hadn’t forced me, I wouldn’t have brought it up.’

‘Please, Aunty Zhao, go to Zhao Chuntang and, if this top-secret document really exists, ask him not to go public with it.’

‘I can’t do that. I’m not my brother’s superior. What makes you think he’d listen to me?’ She rested the mop against the wall,
enjoying the taste of victory. I heard her breathe a sigh. ‘I hear you’re a dutiful son,’ she said. ‘Too bad you have to be
dutiful to a father like him!’

She walked away and I fell in behind her. She wasn’t getting rid of me that easily, and was obviously growing anxious. She
turned into Cotton Print Lane and sort of jogged in the direction of the Milltown police station. ‘You’re worse than your
father,’ she said
without slowing down. ‘Come on, follow me – I’ll even let you catch up – all the way to the police station, where we’ll see
what they have to say about all this.’