CHAPTER 12：A BROKEM HOME & SCATTERED FAMILY
My family situation by the time
Although things happening to me one after another, to other members of my family that was a prosperous period, or a better period that could almost be said “in the prime of my family’s life”, as mother was given a more responsible position at her work unit temporarily due to a considerable portion of her colleges were sent to the cadre’s concentration camps to be transformed. In fact, my Mom, as one of the royalists (During the Cultural Revolution, people were divided into two distinct groups, royalists and rebels, one had to be one or the other, there was nothing in between) was in the most wanted list to be transformed, only because the company needed her outstanding working skill to keep things going, as the popular slogan said, “grasp the revolution and promote the production, she was waived from the list. Though she was no more than a group leader of about 10 people, temporarily, she felt very honored, satisfied, and great self-importance, worked her day and night willingly like a horse.
My brother Danjin was very fond of schooling. He had always been, as the Americans say, a straight A student and the teacher’s pet, also got along well with classmates. He was given a chance to pursuit his study at high school by the school authority. (Only a small portion could go high school in that time)
My baby brother Danfeng was at his third elementary school year. Accidentally Hunan Acrobatics picked him up; repeatedly they visited our home to persuade my mother let go her son. Though indeed Mom was much in doubt, “If it were my second son you want” as she said, couldn’t stand the bitter, sweet and great words she agreed to let Danfeng having a try.
Regarding me myself, my effort and sweat reworded me a quantum leap in violin playing ability that I reached a comparatively high level according to the local standard. And I was taken a consideration to be a member of a sing and dance unit belonging to the Chinese People’s Liberation Army. All I waited for was the result of political records checkup to be an army violinist.
I was very jealous and curious about Danfeng’s taken to the Hunan Acrobatics. Without asking Mom I went to see him training. Not even got close to the practice hall I heard children’s miserable screaming. It sounded like a slaughterhouse. I took courage to push the door open, thus various inhumane postures appeared before my eyes, such as standing on hands, on heads, or on another’s shoulder and another’s shoulder and another, ridding a bicycle backwards, rolling in the air…
When I felt novelty about the prospects a horrible screeching of my brother drew my attention. Then I saw Danfeng in a corner leaning against the wall, legs spread to one line. The coach put his knee against Danfeng’s chest and deadly pushed him against the wall, at the same time he called two little ones to sit on my brother’s thighs, then used his own hands to press the trainee’s shoulders down. Danfeng was so ached that he held his breath that made him unable to cry out. Bean size sweat was rolling off from his forehead next to waterfall. Even until my brother looked faint the rocky-hearted coach showed no sign to end the torture.
Witness that a sudden impulse of grief hit my heart. That was the first time so evidently and strongly I felt that that boy in agony was my flesh and blood. I couldn’t stand any longer that I intentionally went to greet the coach. Indeed as I wanted the coach let go my brother. Danfeng shrank rolling on the floor with pain. A short while later, he crawled to me and embraced my leg begging me to take him home. It was really rare that he let me feel like a big brother. Immediately I made a story that our Mom was sick and needed him back.
Returned home with a few still functional-loosing bones Danfeng begged mother with tears that he’d rather be dead than to go back to the acrobatic business. He also promised to be an even better boy at home from then on, would listen to Mom and do whatever asked to do, even doing the dishes after meal.
In actuality, Mom was reluctant to sent Danfeng to Hunan Acrobatics at first place, was not only because of the bitterness and hardship of training, as in that era, nothing was easy. It was that Mom felt sorry for a 9-year-old to start working, sounds like a child labor. Besides if Danfeng started to work, he would have the remotest possibility to go back to school again. But on the positive side, Mom thought Danfeng should go to learn acrobatics, was at that time Jiangqing’s (great leader Chairman Mao’s wife, the one re-built Chinese show business after the total devastation of Chinese art and literature at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution) show-soldiers with their gray uniforms were among the top range of the social hierarchy.
As to Danjin, Mom also consented that he was born a piece of studying material, therefore prepared to use all family recourses to support him, up to university if Danjin could. Very deep in her heart Mom probably regretted at a certain degree that she instigated father to give up his university studies in order to be a full time revolutionary when they first met.
About me, Mom thought it would be the best solution that I joining the army, as A, spiritually she no long need to worry that I let astray; B, politically to have a soldier son was regarded honorable and prestigious. What a short cut to turn a bad apple to be a pride! C, economically there would a horse less at the dinning table. (I was born in the year of horse.)
One evening, Mom was sitting outside to enjoy one of her rare leisure hours with summer gentle breeze. Perhaps she felt lonely or more possibly intentionally she started to chat with me. She expressed her believe that my elder brother Danjin and I would do OK, and my baby brother Danfeng remained her unique worry.
She sighed emotionally, “You brothers will soon be adults. After your independence, in case your father doesn’t come back, I think I can manage myself.”
I did not trying to figure out the inner meaning of her words, but busy re-calling when was the last time she mentioned my father.
After Xiaolin’s jumping to freedom
Now let me bring our story back to what happened after Chu Xiaolin jumping to freedom.
The moment when Xiaolin jumped out from the window her soul spited apart from her body floating in the vast air and observed the body falling on a truck top canvas.
The truck driver who waited for the traffic light heard a huge bang he scolded, “Who the fuck throw things down like that?”
It wouldn’t be hard to imagine what a shock the driver got when he saw Xiaolin’s body full of blood on his truck.
Soon Xiaolin’s father wheezed rolling from the fourth floor down with his pajama and slippers. He embraced the body of his daughter and shouted at the driver, “Hospital, hospital…”
After hour’s long waiting with anxiety the father rushed toward a doctor who just got out form the operating room, “How is my daughter, do--ctor?”
The doctor responded routinely, “We did everything we could yet still too early to draw conclusion. Even if she makes it, the condition would most likely be critical.”
The father “Pa” kneeled by the doctor’s feet, “Please, please, you save her, you also save my wife. I beg you. I pray for you and the happiness of your whole family.”
What happened to Jiang Langsha
About Chu Xiaolin taking books out of the library, her maternal uncle named Zhou (the husband of her aunt who worked at the library) reacted the most extraordinarily and panic. When the news of Xiaolin’s suicide reached the uncle’s ear it was like pouring oil on a burning fire. The outraged uncle decided to punish the one behind Xiaolin’s stealing of books that caused the dreadful tragedy.
The uncle was a small head of the rebels. The whole China was rebels’ world by the time. They took the actual power of government of the country. Therefore rebels’ so-called “Public Order keeping Command Headquarter” was practically replaced the police force and law court.
Uncle Zhou led a group of full armed “order-keepers” went to Jiang’s little hut. They tied Jiang up without pressing charges. Then implement the Cultural Revolution routine seize the entire little hut thoroughly. From beneath the bed they found the box of books.
“I knew you are the apple of discord. Take the criminal together with the booty” Uncle Zhou ordered.
Meanwhile, a full coal loaded train was approaching.
Jiang put everything aside, as he was tied up he desperately jumped to fall on the wooden box, the only love his father left to him, “These are my books, not library’s books.”
The train was getting closer and closer, but the people there paid little attention.
Order-keeper A kicked Jiang’s bottom and roared, “How dare you to defend yourself. Resist from the 严 , your honest point."
Jiang was struggling in despair that he solicited, “These are novels that I inherited from my father. What Xiaolin took from the library were mostly music scores, not novels.”
“Whatever you say, you tell us where are those books, I mean the music sco—books?” Order-keeper B questioned.
“I do not know. I really don’t.” Jiang answered.
The order-keeper A kicked Jiang again and shouted, “Tell us the truth now, or I’ll beat you to death.”
To beat people to death, so did happen everyday during that period, by order-keepers. What a tragic paradox!
I hid myself near the little hut and peeped through the whole process. Until then I knew nothing about what had happened to Xiiaolin nor could I hear clearly their conversation, but by instinct I guessed it should be something to do with the music scores and books Xiaolin took out form the library and left at uncle Feng’s place. I started to fear that Jiang might be compelled to sell his sister Xiaolin out, which I would never do. Just thinking of running away a sharp steam whistle split the air.
“Woo---”
Based on my earlier observations and knowledge I knew it was time to switch the rail. Thus I dashed toward Jiang and blared out the warning, “Switch rail, switch rail… train coming…”
Jiang heard me, like waking up from a dream, he loudly shouted, “Set me loose, or the train will derail.”
Uncle Zhou realized what could happen, he cut the rope to set Jiang free as quickly as he could.
Jiang streaked off like an arrow off the bow toward to rail switcher. When Jiang started to switch the rail the two order-keepers carrying his bookcase and striding crossing the railway distracted him from his work. He chased up again left the rail half switched. Three of them were refuse to budge in the middle of the railway and the bookcase was slammed down on the ground and the books were scattered out all over. The two order-keeper realized the train was drawing near they fled for their lives while Jiang lay his stomach on the bookcase and stretched his arms to cover the dispersed books like a hen protecting its chicks.
“Run away!” I screamed.
“Run quickly! You bastard want dead?” Also shouted uncle Zhou.
But Jiang was as steady as statuary.
“Wo—Wo----” The train kept howling.
I knew if I stood there doing nothing the train would derail and end up Jiang a heap of minced meat, so I rushed to finish the rail switching. I exerted all my strength to pull the switcher, however, as a 14-year-old I was just not strong enough to the make the rail switching completely done.
The train driver too noticed the abnormal situation that he applied an urgent brake. The train wiped my side approach the rail junction, jangling harshly it stopped, tree miters from jiang and his books.
The whole thing made my flesh creep. But Uncle Zhou was quickly adjusting himself from the shock, he indignantly bawled out at Jiang, “Want to die? Ha! That’s too easy for you. My niece Xiaolin alive is your wife, dead is your ghost. You can’t get away.”
Meanwhile, a steam whistle reached us from a remote distance from the opposite direction. The derailed train driver abruptly jumped down from his train. With a danger light he ran heading the coming train.
A fatal occurrence 3,3 that affected the destiny of our whole family
On that very evening, I was too uneasy to do my routine violin practice by the railway side, but went close to Jiang’s hut to inquiries about, and with prospective to meet Xiaolin so that I could find out what all those about were.
From the hut came out an unknown person somewhat resembling one of the order-keepers, and then another, and uncle Zhou. Then I was sure they were the troublemaking order-keepers. Uncle Zhou said something to the other two, and the three headed my home direction with rifles and ropes. Immediately I took a short cut home.
Back home Mom was absent for working overtime. I told two bothers that someone might come to look for me. If that did happen telling them I was away from home and wouldn’t be back for a long time. When Danjin was doubt about my story a savage knock at our door being heard. Immediately Danjin asked his two younger brothers to hide back in kitchen. I did what he ordered yet Danfeng refused.
The order-keepers gave our door a mighty kick it opened. My little brother blocked the doorway with his emaciated body. Uncle Zhou lifted him up in the air like a little chicken and interrogated, “Where is that boy called Nine Brother?”
My baby brother struggled with his hands and legs in the air and shouted like the little revolutionaries in the new china movies, “I don’t know.” And by finishing he spitted a mouthful slobber on uncle Zhou’s face.
Uncle Zhou dropped my brother from the air and quickly wiped the slobber with the cuff of his sleeve before it flowed into his mouth. Danfeng slammed down on the ground and rolling with pain. Danjin helped his little brother to stand up from the ground and yelled at uncle Zhou, “You think you can bully us because we have no adults home?”
But as soon as my wordless little brother rebounded from the ground he rushed up to uncle Zhou again. By conditional reflex uncle Zhou tired to grasp him, but was firmly bitten by the little lion. Uncle Zhou was so painful that he screamed to the other two, “What a hell are you guys waiting for? Take him.” As the same time he punched my little brother’s head with his other hand.
Uncle Zhou’s that action pushed my always gentle and peaceful brother Danjin to limit. He stepped up to uncle Zhou and reworded him a merciless big blow, that soon turned uncle zhou’s face to be a half panda.
When things turned out like that I decide going out to fight them to death. But Hu Meimei grabbed me tightly and said, “You stupid, a wise man should not fight for an obvious loose. Run.” She pushed me out of the back door.
My mom heard what was going on she ran back home. Seeing her nine-year and fifteen-year old sons was trussed up and being sent under escort of armed order-keepers, immediately lost her consciousness falling down on the ground with soiling pants.
Hu Meimei hurried up to take care of my mom. I went to look for a flatbed cart. Together with Hu Meimei we transported my mom to the hospital. Hu Meimei took my mom’s dirty clothes off and asked me to wash them in a pond outside the hospital. When I done that back to the hospital the doctor ordered me, “Ask your father to come here at once.” His tone left no room for discussion.
Hu Meimei also said to me, “Go go go. Don’t worry I will be here all the time. Go to get you father to come here as quickly as possible.” Her tone also sounded as if my father was eating at a restaurant somewhere nearby.
Above was happened on the third of March 1971. So our family calls it the 3.3 occurrence, an occurrence was so fatal that affected the destiny of our whole family.
To conquer all obstacles looking for father
Facing such a huge family tragedy, even if the doctor had not ordered I would have to find my father and get him home. But where? I had no detailed address except the name of the County where father’s 5.7 Cadre School was located. If it were today, I can send him e-mail, or a fax, or simply make a cell phone call. Yet the present situation then left me no alternative but to go by person. I hitched a night truck to look for the family man who was never very much with the family.
The driver was an open easygoing young man. He chatted with me all the way except asking me whether I was hungry. When we reached a resting spot, at last he asked me if I would like to buy something to eat as he was going to do. I quickly searched my pocket and realize I had only 10 fen RMB lunch money I awkwardly told a story that I wasn’t really hungry as I ate too much for supper.
I waited in the truck with my empty stomach hoping the driver would come back with some leftovers. The truck driver came back without my hope of course. Therefore I planed to sleep all the way in order to economize my energy. However, the bad luck truck couldn’t get started. All the driver’s effort of spinning with the engine handle was in vain. The driver finally gave up and said to me, “It looks you have to sleep with me overnight, though the truck is a little too small for two.”
I was too anxious to wait that I jumped down from the truck and walked my way onwards. The driver shouted at my back “Walk along for about 10 Kilometers there is another resting spot. Wait for me there if you don’t find another lift.”
10 Kilometers distance in the darkness and coldness took a 14 years old boy hours to conquer. When I stepped my feet on the spot it was already dawn. I enquired the trucks one by one asking for their destination and finally found one that heading my father’s direction. The driver was a quiet middle-aged man. As he felt uneasy I sat together with him in the front I climbed on his truck and sat on the goods.
I discovered what I sat on was a gunny of Chinese jujubes. Hence I dug a little hole with my fingers and started to cram my gullet devouringly. I was so thirty that the jujubes stuck on its way to my stomach, if it started to rain so I could have a little drink, that would be communism to me.
The truck suddenly stopped and the driver came to me and said, “Come to the front boy. Because if you freeze to death I don’t want to take the responsibility.”
When I gratefully and happily jumped down from the back and about to get on in front, my mouth betrayed me. The driver immediately changed his attitude and bawled out, “You are a thief! Get lost, roll away.”
Besides in the middle of nowhere, he also left my face smothered with dust from the truck wheels. Again I had to make a good use of my manpower to move forwards. Hours later I passed by a farm. As it seamed nobody watching I dug out a Chinese sweet potato from the field (For doing that I had a sufficient practice when I was about 6), and hid myself behind a big tree chewing it together with mud. When I felt recharged I returned back on the road, again I met the driver who dropped me off a few hours ago.
On his truck (in front) after driving for sometime he told me that the reason he decided to pick me up again was my hungry face reminded him of the year 1960, that he was beaten by stealing flash from dead bodies, which was his unique meat nutrition.
When stopped at a resting spot, he bought a bowl of noodle and had it 50/50 with me. He took me all the way near the county center, and then handed me over to another driver, “This boy is my remote relative. Please take care of him.”
I finally arrived at the county center, but still didn’t know my father’s where about. When I was trying to get into the county administration bureau to make an enquiry I was driven out by the doorkeeper, “No beggars allowed in front of the County Bureau.”
From the County office I found out that the possible location of my father was about 30 kilometers country road away, in fact closer to the place where I was handed to the third driver. I could do nothing but go on with my feet. When my shoes opened their mouths I put some tree barks to stop the holes and continued my journey.
By the late afternoon I met a small group of educated youth on a hill. One of them said he knew nothing about my father, while another said even he knew he couldn’t tell me, and the third said he actually knew where my father was but did not want to tell me.
That made me almost crying out. After I moaned the tragedy happening in my family a tall fellow said he might be able to help me a little. That instantly turned me from sadness to happiness.
Then the tall man said, “It’s too late to go down there today. Let’s wait until tomorrow.”
Though no one obviously invited me I followed the group wherever they went.
On the top of the hill the beautiful landscape popped into my eyes. The declining twilight reminded me of my uncle Din’s out of tune singing, “The eastern sun is declining down the western hill.” Why he always sang wrongly when the correct lyric should be “the twilight is declining down the western hill”?
Whatever! My heavy mood jarred with the marvelous natural scenery.
After a while the tall man covered my eyes with a towel and with his hand I was let into a clandestine cave. There were five young men and one young woman living in the cave. Watching them cook food I couldn’t control my saliva from flowing that I had to utilize my usual method, to sleep. Drowsily I heard xiaolin’s treating. Half sleeping half awake I saw one man is doing with the woman, and another two were lining up for their turn.
Next morning, the tall fellow escorted me all the way down. On the way he expressed his envy to me for having a father, unlike he had no father to care for him since he was very little. He cried his tears out while I had to swallow mine down to my stomach.
A little by little he also told me about their group. They are 6 defecting educated youths out from my father’s farm. (By the time, the cadres like my father at the 5.7 Cadre School were in charge of educated youth) the six formed a special family with five husbands sharing the same wife.
Meeting father
After two nights and two days and all the obstacles, I finally reached my father. You know what he was doing? He was blowing a mouth harmonica taking part to a rehearsal of the educated youth propaganda team. He showed little surprise by seeing me suddenly appearing in front of his eyes as if I was just one of the herd. I could not ruin his good mood that I had to sat down and wait. But only a few seconds later I started sawing logs, which reinforced father’s propaganda noise, sorry, not propaganda noise but propaganda “music”.
When I woke up it was time for supper.
Father’s room was small and simple. A female educated youth was cooking with an alcohol stove. She did not look so bad except a little over sized perhaps. What astonished me worse was my father’s watch on her wrist, the watch father got from mom as a keepsake that he said, “Lost somewhere, may be in a more needed hand.” The unfamiliar gentleness and kind manner towards the girl made father a more stranger to me.
Before the meal, father very briefly introduced the girl to me, called…somewhat like “Sister Fatty”. And then they ate and chatted their concerns as if I did not exist. The whole scene made me feel that without us, the man was more comfortable and happier out there in the farm. If it were true, that Sister Fatty must be part of the reason. Or if the main reason turned to be his love for mom, that results not only me, the whole family to be his heavy burden.
Though my stomach was totally empty soon it fully filled up with anger by viewing the scene. I shouted at father, “Something bad is happening back home, hurry up go back.”
Then he asked Sister Fatty to go away, and listened to my description of the situation back home. Of course I reserved the fact that Xiaolin taking books out from the liberty might be the basic and direct reason of the whole happening, as I still wasn’t sure what exactly uncle Zhou wanted from Jiang Langsha and me. Heard my report father’s facial expression returned back to the appearance of deep frown that I was mostly familiar with.
I stayed at my father’s place only for one night, which was 1/4 the time I spent on my way to look for him. The next morning he gave me a pair of used self-made cotton shoes of his, plus a few Yuan RMB, and showed me the way to the long distance bus stop. After telling me how to make my transit he returned back to his farm and left me along waiting for the bus to come.
I did all I wanted to do, as well as the doctor and Meimei asked me to do, which was to pass the message to my father. I did not expect father to go back with me right away, as I knew as a part member he couldn’t do anything without the party’s approval. To be in a country of selfless ideology asking for a leave from work for family affairs took courage and time.
Farewell, the residency and home I belonged to
I returned, and found my home was chaotic after being searched by the order-keepers. Mother and Danjin were still not in except Danfeng the 9 year-old. To be going through the catastrophe together, seeing him again a throb of excitement and pain in my heart pushed me to hug him. However, he rejected my emotion with a nimble dodge.
Hatefully he accused me, “All your fault. You tore my family into pieces.”
He carried his small schoolbag, strode out of the home.
“Where are you going?” I chased him up out of the door and asked.
“It’s non of your dam business. I don’t know you.”
Those were the last a few words my little brother left to me. To speak to me again was many years later.
Although Danfeng is not my son but a brother, and we never got along that well, watching his back fading away from my sight I suddenly felt a gust of distress, like a piece of flash being sliced off my body.
Hu meimei told me my home was searched thoroughly soon after my mom was sent to the hospital. Although they did not find the music scores that they want but found several of my mom’s old diary. By reading them they began to be suspicious that mom could be a member of the Third Youth League once during her high school years before the liberation, which was considered to be a political stain. (The Third Youth League is attached to the Chinese Kuomintang, in parallel to the Chinese Youth League attached to the Chinese Communist Party) For that mom was sent directly to the cadre’s concentration camp for further investigation after being treated at the hospital only for two days.
My little brother Danfeng was only kept in detention for one night. As it became a home without family the 9-year-old kept taking care of it all by himself. He borrowed Hu Meimei’s fire to cook one bowl of gruel and subsisted on it a day. And everyday he went to visit uncle Zhou at a hospital. He begged for mercy by kneeling before the sickbed. The little lion also expressed he would sacrifice all of his eight incisors to trade for his brother Danjin’s freedom.
The family baby also asked Hu Meiemi to pass his words to anyone and everyone of the family that it was he himself decided to go back to the Hunan acrobatics, therefore no need to try to find him. For the sake of never being bullied and humiliated again he would train him to be a Hercules. Until then he would not show his face to the public.
Hence, I was left alone at home. As a matter of fact I had never felt so lonely and so scared. If it were before, whenever I was alone would be my chance to practice my violin. But then, I was not at all in the mood of touching my beloved instrument.
I went to see the place where Danfeng was held, which was a detention temporarily borrowed Hunan Medical College’s classrooms. I could only peep at the place in a distance as afraid of being caught.
I also visited mom at the Cadre’s Concentration Camp but the doorman excluded me from getting in for the rule “cadres under investigation are not allowed to meet family members.” Later I found besides the rule, it was also the good hearted doorman did not want a young boy’s feeling to be hurt too badly, as my mom was locked up in a cow barn, the same vast number of Chinese were treated during the Cultural Revolution.
No doubt I went to Jiang’s wooden hut but the new comer had no idea about the whole thing. To me uncle Feng’s place remained the last hope for finding Xiaolin and finding out the facts behind. Sadly the result of my visit was no result.
Now you see how pathetic I was that I, together with everybody around me, was experiencing such an awful occurrence without knowing the real reason, which turned me to be an ant in a hot pot restlessly counting my minutes day and night.
Almost a long month later father came back at last. (I found out later he was on an errand for the Party back to the city. That means he wasn’t home particularly for the sake of the family but by convenience. However that was quite understandable and common, as in that era the Party business was regarded as heavy as a mountain and family affairs as light as a feather.) I, as a boy always distanced from the father, this time felt like to throw myself into his safe hands. I had never so strongly felt the great importance to have a family man home. Nevertheless his clay-colored face and cold mood functioned like a negative pole of magnet kept me away eternally in a decided distance.
Father put his baggage down and went out right away. No need to ask he went to rescuer my mom and brother. I thought.
I started to make coal fire and prepare a supper, which I stopped doing for about a month. Seldom in my life without mom’s consent I cut off a piece of meat from a moldy pig head that hung on the wall for ages and quickly made out a dish of garlic frying with pig head meat. I dare to say that that was the most attentive and most delicious meal I had ever cooked in my entire short life.
Waited for the clock to tell the suppertime I set up the table and expected father to come back. If it were not that day but any day in preceding a 14-year-I would replace chopsticks with my fingers to peck a little by little from the dish, but on that day, though revolution was going on madly in my stomach my indomitable will stood it.
Hour after hour father did not show up. And I had to heat up my beautiful meal over again and again. Any footsteps or even a rustle of leaves in the wind made me rush to the door. “Papa, the supper is ready” was a sentence I practiced countless times. But when father really came back I fell sleep bending on the table.
Father’s slap on the table woke me up with a start. Vaguely I saw my father’s metal ashen face like a fearful devil. Though the volume was not that loud but the tone was extremely resolute and authoritative, “Bring all the books out from the library here, now.”
“I have no books from the library.” I tired to play an edge ball.
“I say it again and no more. Bring all the books out from the library here, now.” Father ordered with an increasing volume.
“Really I took no BOOKS from the library.” I quibbled again.
“I have no time for this.” Father said as he started looking for something to beat me in order to prevent his hands to be hurt.
“Music scores.” I changed my words, “You want me to bring out books of course I couldn’t. I only have music scores, scores for my violin…”
“Again! That hand-lin? I knew it. I knew it from the very beginning it would cause trouble.” Father burst into rage.
“It is not hand-lin. It is called violin.” I corrected him.
Seeing him continuously busy looking for something to beat me I started to be aware that there was no way to escape. Without more ado I headed him directly, “It wasn’t me who took the music scores out from the library. But even you beat me to death I will not tell you who did it. I’ll never sell out my friend.”
“Your friend? Ha, you don’t have a friend. You will have a cabbage or a dead body. Haven’t you heard Chu Xiaolin jumped down from the 4th floor…”
“Ai…” That was the first time I was told about Xiaolin’s destiny.
Father ordered again, “Do as I say, bring your vio…hand-lin, whatever, out on the table, now.”
By then I realized it wasn’t that father didn’t know the term “violin”, but deliberately following my mom’s term “hand-lin” to show his disdain towards the instrument, or more precisely towards me. If it were the usual time I would rather die to retreat my violin. But on that day, I was in a state of shock of Xiaolin’s tragedy, in addition thought to hand over the violin might do some good to extricate my brother out from the detention, therefore I fetched my violin underneath my bed and presented it on the table.
To father, the violin was the root of evil. It was the time then to dig the root out.
Father tried to open the violin case but did not know how. He glanced me a signal to open it, and I did it accordingly. Father took my violin out from the case raised it above his head and then smashed it on the table, that caused the dish I made falling down on the ground all over. My violin screamed out terribly.
My father broke not only my violin, but also my heart into pieces, as well as the appellation “father”.
Perhaps all these were expected I reacted considerably calmly. I crawled on the ground to pick up the broken parts of my violin that jumped off the table and put them back to my case.
Father’s face looked longer and bitterer than ever, he uttered repentantly, “Also me to blame that I was too generous and didn’t cut the evil root at its sprout state.”
Father said that as he grabbed the head of my violin from my hand and slammed on the ground again, “I regret, I regret…” He knocked on the table with his fist causing “don don” sound.
Again I crawled down on the ground to pick up my violin pieces. Each time my hand touched apiece it reminded me how I made them with each stroke of knife, chisel and file, my wounded hand during the violin making started to feel pain again.
Seeing father attempted to take my violin pieces from the case again I held the case in my arm to protect them as if they were my babies. My mind was made. This time, even if he kills me, I wouldn’t let my children to suffer from the trample again.
As father showed no sign to give up I exclaimed with grievance, “What exactly I did wrong? Who did I offend? I just want to play the violin and to be a violinist. What is wrong with that?” More I yelled more I felt the injustice that made me lost my mind. I furiously threw the whole violin case down on the ground and hysterically shouted, “Are you satisfied now?”
Father paused, only for a second, he uttered in despair, “You, roll out. Our family doesn’t have such a son.”
In actuality such announcement of my father’s was overmuch as I had already been on my way out with my broken violin and heart. I didn’t know where to go but what I did know was that that was a place I would never want to return.
“What exactly I did wrong? Who did I offend? I just want to play the violin and to be a violinist. What is wrong with that?” Those are questions bothered me for decays until recently I came to realize that the real evil root was not the violin, but me being different, or my desire of being a individual human rather than a communism manufactured robot, a tool, “a nail in the socialist machine” as literally called in China during the era. THAT SIN offended the majority of communist community.
Home, inside that nest I grew up for nearly 15 years, the place had been extraordinarily noisy with quarrel and joy, the zone used to be save and secure, then became a hollow of emptiness, left only father’s inclining shadow from the dim light and a thick smoke out from his mouth to accompany.
To be continued
|
