The Interior (19 page)

And on it went.

At four a young woman escorted Governor Sun Gan and Assistant Secretary Amy Gao into the room. Unlike the last time that David had met Sun in Beijing, for this occasion he was dressed quite casually in slacks and a short-sleeve white shirt which emphasized his physical strength. From his vantage point David could see the incredible charisma that Sun exuded as he circumnavigated the table, exchanging individual greetings with everyone in the room. David supposed that Sun’s ability to make people feel special was what had made him such a successful politician.

All the while Amy Gao stood patiently with her back against the wall, her impenetrable brown eyes coolly surveying the room. David was aware that in China an underling was hardly ever addressed or acknowledged and would never be presumptuous enough to step forward and introduce him-or herself. So David decided to approach Amy, for the very simple reason that if he was to represent Sun, then he would need to have a good relationship with his right-hand woman. Most likely Amy Gao would be able to provide more details on a particular matter or be able to look up information more quickly than the governor himself. But where Sun projected ease, his assistant appeared beautiful but undeniably stiff and formal. Her response to David’s self-introduction was a brief handshake and a clipped “How do you do?”

Once they all resumed their seats, with Amy taking a chair against the wall behind her superior, Sun addressed Henry. “I know you’re all very busy with your sale, but I wanted to come and see if there’s anything I can do to help facilitate matters.”

“I’m always grateful for any help that the governor can provide,” Henry said. “But in this instance things are moving along fine. We see nothing but clear weather ahead.”

“This is good news,” Sun responded, keeping his official demeanor. He cocked his head in David’s direction. “You may not know this, but Henry Knight was the first to recognize the possibilities of Shanxi Province.”

“Oh, now, Sun,” Henry interrupted. “We’re all friends here. You don’t need to give David the full treatment, you know.”

The two men laughed, and the others from Knight quickly joined in.

Then Henry, still beaming, explained to David, “We’ve known each other since the war. Hell, we were a couple of kids, but we did some serious carousing, didn’t we, Sun? When I came back to China, I knew whom I had to find. Only I didn’t know
what
I’d find—some broken peasant, maybe he was dead, I didn’t know. But I get over here and look who’s practically running the show. I can’t tell you how easy he made it for us. He found this property. When we were building the compound and I was home in the hospital, he got the tradesmen here on time, he kept the work moving steadily forward, and he dealt with all the red tape. We never would have gotten up and running if not for him.”

Sun acknowledged this with a slight bow of his head, then said, “It is I who owe much to you. I had a vision for my province. You were the first to turn it into reality. Now we have other companies from France, England, Australia, Germany, and, of course, the United States. We may not have Mattel, Nike, or Boeing yet, but once they see what we’ve done here, they’ll come. Why? Because our land and labor prices are cheaper than on the coast. But the real gift is not what we can give you. It is what you have given us. You remember, Henry, what it was like here fifty years ago? Terrible poverty. Always we were having famine or drought or flood, then you add to that war…It was bad. Even when you first came back to visit in 1990, life for common people had not changed so much. But today you can see what prosperity has done not only to our big provincial cities of Taiyuan and Datong but also to our villages.”

David glanced around the room, noting that the others looked bored with this ongoing mutual admiration fest. Perhaps they’d listened to it too many times and no longer heard the real content of the words, but David heard them. Sun had obviously done a lot to make things run smoothly for his old friend. In the West this might have meant a few phone calls, but in China it could mean anything from a few phone calls to coercion, graft, or bribery. Despite these red flags, David couldn’t imagine that the governor—with his straightforward manner, his ease with people, his obvious love of his home province, and his rapid rise in power—could be personally involved with such underhanded business practices. For that matter, neither could Henry Knight. Watching the two of them together, David saw two mannerly gents bound together by some good times in the past. On different continents and in vastly different cultures, they had both risen to prominence. They had made money. They had achieved success.

11

W
HEN THE BELL RANG FOR LUNCH, HULAN AND THE
other women filed out into the courtyard. Except for one fifteen-minute break, Hulan had stood in exactly the same spot for six hours, so she was grateful to have the opportunity to stretch her legs. And, hot as it was under the sun, it was far cooler outside than on the factory floor. She was thankful as well for Peanut’s take-charge attitude. Smiling, Peanut had linked arms with Hulan and Siang, pulling them along. Through the crowd Hulan caught a glimpse of Mayli and Jingren, but they were in the company of their own teams. In fact, all of the groups seemed to be made up of people who worked together. After standing or sitting in such close proximity to the same people day after day, week after week, how could they not be friends, how could they not know each other’s most intimate secrets?

For a moment Peanut broke into an old harvest song. Her voice sounded sweet, and a few of the women around them joined in for a verse or two. Then someone spotted the foreigners, and word quickly passed that Old Man Knight himself was in the courtyard. Hulan rose up on tiptoes to see the foreigners. Dressed in suits and ties, they looked wilted and suprisingly indistinguishable as individuals. Then she spotted David. She looked right at him, but he didn’t see her. Around her, the women dared each other to go up and talk to the Americans.

“Suchan, tell that young one over there you are burning hot for him.”

“Um, no, I like the old one. Who wants a hard
jiji
when you can have hard currency?”

The women laughed appreciatively at this tart rejoinder. Then another voice called out.

“In this hot place I am parched. I long for clouds and rain.” The time-honored euphemism for the sexual act made the women laugh louder.

Looking at the men’s faces, Hulan knew they had no understanding of the words being hurled their way. None, that is, except Aaron Rodgers. Even from a distance Hulan could see that his ears had gone bright red. She wasn’t the only one to notice his discomfort.

“Hey! Look at Manager Red Face! I think we’re making him hot!”

“Choose me! I will let you feel my love button!”

“No! Pick me! I will be so carried away I will forget to count the thrusts!”

“Forget your dreams, sister. He has found his new conquest. Where is that new girl? Who is she anyway?”

Hulan peered sideways and saw Siang in much the same condition as Aaron. Her eyes were cast down and she was blushing from embarrassment, but the smile on her face showed her pleasure.

Peanut, keeping her voice low, said, “Don’t listen to them, Siang. They’re just having fun.”

“Do you think so?” Siang asked.

Peanut grinned conspiratorially. “Tell us. What did the manager say to you?”

“That I was doing good work. He said I was learning faster than anyone he had ever seen.”

They entered the cafeteria building, picked up trays, and joined the line to receive a bowl of rice with some stewed meat on top. Peanut and Siang went to find a table, while Hulan got herself a mug of weak tea. By the time she reached her co-workers, they were deep in conversation, their heads together.

“Are you going to meet him?” Peanut asked Siang as Hulan sat down.

“Do you think I should?”

“Of course. I would if he asked me,” Peanut answered.

Obviously a lot had happened in the few minutes Hulan had gotten her tea.

“But where?” Hulan asked. “I thought there were no places to be alone.”

Peanut and Siang exchanged glances.

“The people who run this place think we have no needs, but we do,” Peanut said delicately. “So we have found places to meet here inside the compound and ways to get out when we can.”

“How?” Hulan asked. She picked up a piece of the meat, noticed that the hair was still attached to the skin, set it against the side of her bowl, and looked for another, more appetizing morsel.

“When you’re here longer, you’ll find out,” Peanut answered.

“But Siang already knows, and we’ve been here the same amount of time.”

“But she’s different. The manager told her himself.”

Hulan put down her chopsticks. “I don’t think this is fair.” The words seemed tame enough, but in China they were the first step toward public criticism.

Peanut sighed. “Okay, but if you get caught, don’t tell them I told you. There are actually several ways to meet,” she went on, trying to sound more worldly than her fourteen years. “Staying in the compound is the least dangerous, but it’s hard to avoid their eyes.”

“Last night Madame Leung caught me when I went outside,” Hulan said.

“That’s because you left after lights out,” Peanut explained. “You have to be gone much earlier than that.” Peanut looked around to make sure that none of the officials were nearby, then leaned forward and continued in a low voice, “Did you notice that when we came in here that we didn’t have to check in? Well, the same goes for breakfast and dinner.”

“So?”

“So they only check us when we go in and out of the factory. Otherwise they don’t pay much attention.”

“People sneak out during lunch?” Hulan asked dubiously.

“Lunch. Dinner.” Peanut’s eyes scanned the room. “I can tell you not everyone is having lunch right now.”

“But where do they go?”

“Oh, the warehouse, the shipping area, the Administration Building, even here.” Seeing Hulan’s shocked look, Peanut laughed. “They aren’t doing it in here right now! That’s only at night after lights out and the men have supposedly gone home. Outside, you put a man and a woman together, how long does it take? Not so long and then the man goes to sleep. But”—Peanut’s eyes gleamed—“if you stay in the compound—if you’re in here perhaps—you do your thing and then you have all night to talk, because these floors are too hard for much sleeping. Believe me, I know!”

“Still, won’t you get caught?”

“Depends where you go,” Peanut said, “depends who with.”

“What if I wanted to leave the compound?” Hulan asked.

“Do you have a special man too?” Peanut wanted to know.

“Maybe,” Hulan said. “Maybe I just don’t believe you. What about the gate? What about the guard?”

“Oh, leaving is easy!” Peanut bragged. “We’re dismissed at seven and so are the men. You take off your smock, give it to a friend, join the men—walking in the middle of the group—and go right out through the gate. In the morning, you just reverse the process. And if you really want out, you can always pay the guard. He’s very greedy.”

Hulan remembered back to the first time she entered the compound and how the guard had paled when he’d seen her identification. He must have thought he was on his way to a labor camp.

“You’ve done this yourself?” Hulan asked. “Paid the guard?”

“Me? No. I’m here to make money, not spend it.” Peanut turned her attention back to Siang. “So, where did the manager want to meet you?”

Siang studied her empty bowl. “He said to come to his office. He said we would have dinner there and we could talk about my promotion.”

“Um.” Peanut nodded sagely. “He wants to talk.” Then she burst out in raucous laughter, stood, and called out across the room in a shrill voice, “Manager Red Face wants to talk!” The laughter that followed was accompanied by a few more comments on Aaron Rodgers’s prowess.

Feeling sorry for Siang, Hulan reached across the table and patted her hand. “You don’t have to do what he says.”

Siang looked up not in embarrassment but in defiance. “Why wouldn’t I go?”

“Isn’t it obvious that he does this with other girls?”

“So what?”

“So you could get hurt. You could get a disease. You could—”

“You only say those things because you’re old.” Siang filled the last word with as much contempt as she could marshal. As Hulan recoiled at the insult, Siang went on. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s true you look young, almost like one of us. But you are a friend of Ling Suchee. Tsai Bing’s mother says you are girlhood friends. Well, if you are friends for that many years, then you are as old as that old woman.”

Peanut consumed all this with considerable interest, and Hulan had no doubts that their conversation would be common knowledge by lights out tonight.

“And what about Tsai Bing?” Hulan asked.

“He’s the reason I’ll do it.” Siang pushed her tray away and stood. “We want to be together, but how can we without money?”

Hulan and Peanut watched Siang wend her way through the tables. “True-heart love, eh?” Peanut asked. Hulan nodded. “Parental objection too?” When Hulan nodded again, Peanut sighed at the hopelessness of it all.

During the long, hot afternoon, as Hulan continued to jab hair through tiny holes in the Sam dolls, Peanut peppered them both with questions: What villages were they from? How had they been hired? What were they saving money for? Fortunately, Hulan didn’t have to worry too much about her answers due to Siang’s repeated interruptions. Eventually Peanut directed her questions solely to Siang, who responded with an insolent brashness, as though she were taunting them with her family’s superiority.

“A hundred years ago my family was important in this area,” Siang said. “They were landowners, the worst of the worst, but even so, they didn’t have so much. They weren’t Mandarins or educated, but they’d been in this district for many centuries. They were slave owners. They bought girls to work in the house and eventually become the concubines of my great-great-uncles.”

All of these words were spoken with perfunctory contrition, for there was no masking Siang’s pride in her family’s past. Still, to be on the safe side, she covered her haughtiness by adding, “I had a great-uncle—a younger brother naturally—who joined the People’s Army. It’s a good thing too. Otherwise my entire family would have been killed during Liberation or during Land Reform.”

“What about the Cultural Revolution?” Peanut asked. “Your family must have paid then.”

“I wasn’t born yet, so I only know the stories,” Siang said. “In those days there was a big commune not far from here where thousands of youths from the city came to learn the ways of the people. Can you imagine?”

“In my home village,” Peanut said, “we also had a work camp for people from the black classes.”

“Maybe that’s where my father was sent. Who knows?” Siang said. “But always I have thought this was kind of funny, because it isn’t so easy to live here even now. The whole time that my father was gone from Da Shui, the villagers held criticism meetings against our family. Eventually they sent away my aunties. They never returned. Then the team leaders of the commune assigned my grandparents the worst jobs—filling buckets of shit from the public latrine and carrying them to the fields. My grandparents, already weak, died very quickly. By the time my father returned, he no longer had a family. His home, tools, and land had long been confiscated and incorporated into the commune.”

“This was life for people everywhere,” Peanut observed. “Your family is not so unique.”

“A little less talking and maybe the new girls would get more work done,” a voice cut in. Hulan looked over her shoulder to see Madame Leung.

“Sorry, Party Secretary.”

“Peanut, I gave these two to you because you are fast. But”—she pointed at Hulan—“look at the job this one here is doing.” Then she turned her attention from the work to the person doing it and instantly recognized Hulan. “You’re the one from last night.”

Hulan bowed her head. It was an admission of guilt and an act of repentance.

“This work will never pass inspection,” Madame Leung said. Then she grabbed Hulan’s hands. “And look at this! You’re bleeding through your bandages. No one wants your blood on our products. Here,” she said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out some gloves. “These ought to help your hands, but if I don’t see an improvement in the work, we’ll have to move you to a less demanding job.” Madame Leung surveyed the room for her next targets. Once she spotted them, she said, “Get back to work, and, Peanut, you’re responsible for this one.”

When she walked away, Peanut said, “You’ll have to try harder, Hulan. This is a bottom-rung job. I’m still here, but I’m team leader of Appendage Assembly. If you don’t succeed, you’ll be given an even lower job, like hauling water to the bathrooms or cleaning the floors. They’ll drop your salary even more and you’ll work longer hours. I know you didn’t come here for that. Now, watch exactly what I do…”

Peanut devoted the next hour to helping Hulan. The work itself wasn’t all that difficult, but Hulan’s left hand was bandaged and awkward. Peanut taught Hulan to modify her grip on the doll’s head. Soon enough muscles she didn’t know she had in her hand started to ache, but at least she wasn’t worried about driving the punching tool into her wound. The minutes ticked past and Hulan became aware of Siang’s growing impatience, as she bumped into Peanut and cleared her throat, inexpertly trying to get the team leader’s attention. Finally Peanut said to Hulan, “Your hands are clumsy and your arms don’t have much strength, but you are doing better. Try it on your own for a while. The next time Madame Leung comes around, you’ll be ready for her.”

As soon as Peanut picked up her own tool, Siang began to speak as though no time had passed since her earlier speech. “When the responsibility system came in 1984, everything changed for us,” Siang said.

“Things changed for everyone.” For the first time Peanut’s voice was edged with irritation. Then she leaned over and asked Hulan, “What about you? You haven’t told us where you’re from.”

“You’ve been talking to her for an hour!” Siang blurted. “Are you going to listen to me, or are you going to keep talking to her?”

Peanut sighed, picked up another Sam head, and expertly jabbed the hair into the small holes.

“The brigade leaders got together to redistribute the land, seed, animals, and tools,” Siang continued. “They took into consideration past hard work, familial ties to the land, the qualities of livestock and soil. Although the black marks against my mother and father had been removed through self-criticism, many villagers still held a grudge. So, while several people were reassigned to their ancestral land, my father wasn’t given any of his. The leaders gave him a poor tract on the other side of the village. All the time he is working hard. One year he’s so successful that he has enough money to buy extra seed. He went to one of the neighbors—an old couple—and said if they would let him plant it, he would provide for them the following winter. The next year that couple died and my father got their land. Since then, every year he gets a little here, a little there. And every day my father thanks Deng Xiaoping for instilling in us the desire to get rich.”