"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.
15
"'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.'"