Last Kiss in Tiananmen Square Read online

  LAST KISS

  IN

  TIANANMEN SQUARE

  Lisa Zhang Wharton

  Copyright © 2011 Lisa Zhang Wharton

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

  (Fantasy Island Book Publishing)

  Credits

  Front Cover © Lisa Zhang Wharton

  Senior Editor: Pamela Brennan

  Structural Editor: J. Darroll Hall

  Front Cover Artist: Jake Riggle

  Contact us at: www.fantasyislandbookpublishing.com

  Dedicated to my husband, Eric Wharton who has provided invaluable support

  To my son William Wharton who has provided constant amusement and his confidence in me has prompted me to finish this book

  To my parents (Kaiming Zhang and Meizhen Cheng) who have raised me in an unusual and story-worthy environment

  Tables of Contents

  Tables of Contents iv

  Prologue 1

  Chapter 1 3

  Chapter 2 19

  Chapter 3 31

  Chapter 4 49

  Chapter 5 55

  Chapter 6 66

  Chapter 7 74

  Chapter 8 88

  Chapter 9 100

  Chapter 10 116

  Chapter 11 128

  Chapter 12 134

  Chapter 13 152

  Chapter 14 158

  Chapter 15 165

  Chapter 16 175

  Chapter 17 190

  Chapter 18 200

  Chapter 19 216

  Chapter 20 231

  Epilogue 246

  Except from “Chinese Lolita” 250

  Dear Reader,

  Please note that throughout this novel Beijing University will be colloquially know as Beida.

  Prologue

  At dawn on April 22, 1989, Tiananmen Square awakened as the sun lit the sky. Hundreds of students who had camped in the square overnight came to life. They were waiting to pay their last respects to Hu Yaobang, a member of political bureau, and former Secretary General of the Communist Party. The students wanted to voice their demands for a more free and open society. They wanted to continue what Hu Yaobang had started campaigning for three years earlier: a free press and a multi-party system of government.

  Police soon systematically cleared the vast space in front of the Great Hall of the People, where the memorial service was going to be held. More and more citizens joined the peaceful demonstration as the rising sun shone in the eastern sky. They remained silent and watched with some contempt as the police stopped traffic to let a dozen red-flagged passenger cars that carried the top communist leaders solemnly enter the square. The radios in some students’ hands announced the start of the service, and the crowd began inching forward. More police rushed out of the gate of the Great Hall of the People, brandishing clubs. The crowd shouted and cursed at the police, who linked their arms and barely managed to stop the sea of angry people.

  “Wait, be quiet, please! We are sending our representatives in first,” announced an apparent student leader through a megaphone.

  Three student representatives, wearing white shirts and black arm bands on their left arms (following the Chinese tradition: of a black arm band on the left arm indicating the deceased was a male, with band on the right arm meaning a female) for the death of Hu Yaobang, appeared and knelt in the middle of the steps leading to the gate of the Great Hall of the People, waiting to be led in. Each carried a piece of folded black cloth, which contained a list of their requests:

  Authorities guarantee their safety

  Let them enter the Great hall of the People to pay their last respects to Hu Yaobang.

  Allow the Free Press

  Install a multi-party system of government

  Hours passed before the first representative, a young woman with short hair, fell down from heat and hunger. Then the tall and thin teenage girl collapsed. The last one, a short but muscular young man held up until the service finished. The gate of the Great Hall of the People did not open. No one came out to take their requests. It was rumored that the officials had escaped through the back doors after the memorial service.

  “If I had cannon, I would have destroyed that Hall,” said one student.

  Chapter 1

  The day Baiyun heard that Hu Yaobang was dead; she knew a volcano would erupt.

  It was Sunday afternoon. Baiyun’s forty-six year old mother, Meiling, had shut herself in the bedroom with her boyfriend. Baiyun was initially unaware of the activity in the next room when she came home, until she recognized their loud voices behind Meiling’s bedroom door.

  Meiling’s voice penetrated through the door “Am I right? Did that little bitch try to seduce you yesterday? Don’t think I am blind!”

  “Come on. That’s absolutely not true. Don’t be suspicious all the time.” Baiyun recognized the deep voice as that of Meiling’s new boyfriend, Lao Zheng. Meiling and Lao Zheng purchased an industrial construction business last year and had been working together ever since.

  “I just want to keep an eye on you,” said Meiling.

  Baiyun did not like Lao Zheng. Ever since Meiling had broken up with her long time boyfriend, uncle Weiming seven years earlier, a factory worker, whom Baiyun considered her real father, Baiyun had had a hard time accepting anyone else. She was too old to think of her mother’s new boyfriends as adults or stepparents, especially as most of them were younger than her mother was. To Meiling, Baiyun had become a rival. But Baiyun could deal with Meiling’s new boyfriends diplomatically. After all, they had added some spice to the family’s dull life after her real father was injured twenty years ago after coming back from a labor camp during the Cultural Revolution.

  In order not to disturb Meiling, Baiyun tiptoed to the refrigerator and took out a square of Spam, a dishful of stir-fried liver and a few steamed sesame buns. While she was heating the food in the kitchen, Meiling stuck her head outside her bedroom door and yelled, “Hey, my college girl is home.”

  “Hi, Mother. Is it all right if I eat this food in the fridge?”

  “Oh, yes. Your uncle Lao Zheng made that especially for you. You should eat it up so you’ll be big and strong.”

  “Mother, stop! My classmates are calling me little fat girl. I need to lose weight.”

  “Nonsense. Who says fat is ugly? Look at those American movie stars,” Meiling pointed to the movie star calendar on the wall, “They all have full bodies and beautiful big breasts. Skinny means sexless. And which of your classmates can afford such nice food at home. They are jealous of you!” Meiling disappeared behind the bedroom door.

  Baiyun carried the heated food to the room served both as her father’s bedroom and the family living-room, which looked just the same as when Baiyun left for college three years before. Her parents had added only one piece of furniture - a tall dresser with a full-sized mirror, which was in the corner of the room by the window. A heavy wooden desk located at the other corner of the room by the window and a round glass dining table dominated the center of the room.

  On the far side of the room, an old man with a head of snowy hair lay on a single bed. A corner of a large dirty floral blanket covered his belly. His head tilted toward one side of the pillow where
his dripping saliva created a dark water stain. His face was red and wrinkled and resembled a rotten apple. An arm hung loosely over the side of the bed. He wore a faded green sweat-stained shirt and gray cotton underwear. On the bed rail, rested his two extraordinarily ugly feet, dry and covered with blisters.

  “Meow! Meow!” Father mumbled as though still enjoying the taste of wine in his dream.

  Baiyun didn’t like her family much, especially after she found out that most of her classmates in college had far more normal family lives than she had. Lately her father had started making cat noises, which felt like a knife cutting through her nerves every time she heard it. She often thought of running away. But how could she do it? The country was vast but the people were mostly caged like chickens. Recently the government allowed people to leave the country and go to America if they could pass the TOFEL exam (an entrance exam for foreign students to get into an American college) and get accepted at American colleges. Baiyun had been studying English and getting ready to leave as soon as she could. America was definitely a place far enough to escape, she often told herself.

  Baiyun ignored her father and sat down at the round dining table. First she put two spoonful of fried liver, tender and delicious, and a thin piece of Spam into a bowl, and then spread out the “China Daily”, the only English language newspaper in Beijing, next to it. She began to indulge her two biggest joys in life, eating and reading. She read about Hu Yaobang’s memorial service and the students’ peaceful demonstration in Tiananmen Square. Even though she was away from her school, Beijing University, her heart was stirred. A desire was burning in her heart. She wanted to get back to school immediately to witness the new student movement first-hand.

  After finishing the liver in the bowl, Baiyun cut a small corner of the Spam and added another spoonful of liver. She paused, deciding if she should to eat more or not. She patted her little round belly pushing up from her tight blue jeans and touched her puffy cheeks with her palms. She pushed the dish and bowl aside, staring at her dull reflection in the mirror-like table surface. She still had an almond-shaped face, a pair of big dark brown eyes behind her white-framed glasses, and a black spot on the right side of her straight nose. Some of her friends called it a beauty spot, but others said it was a misery spot. Sometimes she agreed with the second opinion. She gulped down the last of the Spam in two bites and finished the fried liver.

  “Hi, Baiyun. You’re back.” Lao Zheng came out and startled her.

  “Shh, don’t wake up Father,” said Baiyun, putting her index finger on her lips. She turned around and saw her father still sound asleep. She sometimes wasn’t sure whether he was really sleeping. She thought maybe her father pretended to be asleep all the time since the reality was far too ugly to see. Baiyun ignored Lao Zheng and went back to reading the newspaper.

  “Just like your mother said, our great intellectual even makes use of her meal time to enrich her mind. I would say that’s why you are ten times smarter than your mother.” Lao Zheng edged himself into a chair next to Baiyun as if afraid of wrinkling his freshly ironed white shirt and brown pants. He was a handsome man with a tall solid body and a square weathered face. His eyes, though small, were full of charm.

  “Yes, it’s a big paper. I have to read fast,” said Baiyun. She ignored him and kept her eyes on the paper.

  “Your mother and I wondered where you were this morning.”

  “I went to a book discussion. We discussed the Shakespeare’s play called ‘Romeo and Juliet’.”

  “Okay. I think your mother has told me about this play.”

  “Good.”

  “My mind is getting rusty. You can correct me if I’m wrong. Has they both killed themselves in the end?”

  “Ya. Only true lovers will die for each other.”

  “Oh, I see. I heard your mother say the same thing.” He leaned forward, lowered his voice and pretended to be mysterious.

  “How about you?” Baiyun turned around and stared at him. “Are you willing to die for love or you’d rather die for money?”

  “A good question. I haven’t decided yet. It depends on how much your mother loves me.” He winked at her and asked, “Can you lend me a copy to read?”

  “What are you two talking about? It sounds so interesting.” Meiling strolled into the room wearing a red silk blouse and a pair of white pants. Her black perm hair was tied up behind her head with a tiger eye barrette.

  “About books,” Baiyun murmured and dropped her head.

  “Really? I didn’t know he could carry on such a serious conversation,” Meiling winked at Lao Zheng. She put her palms against her waist and tilted her upper body back a little.

  “Hey, I only talk about intelligent things with an intelligent person.” Lao Zheng sat back and scooted away from Baiyun.

  “Mother, I’m going back to school.” Baiyun jumped up and began collecting the dirty dishes on the table. She could never bear to witness Meiling, Lao Zheng and her father in the same room. She heard stirring in her father’s bed. She imagined her father standing up and finally confronting Meiling and Lao Zheng. She sensed a volcano was about to erupt here in her own family. She would be safer back at school.

  “You are leaving? Really? Why so soon? Why don’t you stay? Your uncle and I are planning to take you out for dinner tonight.”

  “No, Mother. Please understand. My roommate Yumei is sick. I have to go back to take care of her. Besides, there must be a lot going on around the campus.”

  “Okay, I wouldn’t hold you back. But, be careful. Keep in mind that you are going to America in three months. Don’t get involved too much with those student activists, especially that Yumei. She is only interested in sleeping around. How awful?”

  “Yes, Mother.” Baiyun said and pursed her lips. Still being a virgin, she was not envious of Yumei.

  “Okay, you’d better get ready.” Meiling and Lao Zheng went back to Meiling’s room.

  Baiyun took some clothes from the dresser drawer and a few tea eggs and apples from the refrigerator. Before she stepped out the door, she heard Meiling’s voice.

  “Don’t you want to say goodbye to Uncle Zheng, and… your father?”

  “Bye, Uncle Zheng,” Baiyun mumbled. After that she went to her father’s bed and said “Father, I’m leaving.” Her father opened his eyes. “Oh, you’re leaving. See you.” His lips trembled and then he closed his eyes as though nothing had happened. Baiyun felt a stir in her heart but she could do nothing but leave this mess behind her.

  She walked to her bicycle, parked under the window in front of their apartment. She unlocked it and hung the bag of food on one side and the clothes on the other side of the handlebars.

  It was unusual weather for April, warm and humid, quite a change from the normal dry weather of Beijing’s spring.

  On the Beijing Industrial University campus, life was going on as usual. Baiyun rode her bike slowly among people who were just returning from work. Some of them rode with full loads, bags of groceries on each side of their handlebars, wives with children on their laps, sitting together on the back fender seats.

  No traffic police were at present on campus. Drivers of cars did whatever they could to go by; bicycles swerved through the crowd; pedestrians wandered on both sides of the road; and children played in the middle of the street. “Dingling!” A bicycle bell rang behind her. A young woman, with a head full of hair curlers and a wash basin full of dirty clothes tied onto her bike seat, swung by Baiyun like a gust of wind. She must have just come back from the community baths and gotten all her energy from the heat.

  Ten minutes later when Baiyun arrived at the gate of the Beijing University campus, the guard hollered at her, “Your student I.D., please!”

  She showed it to him and rode on. School officials enforced the gate only on special occasions and she wondered what caused it today. Although it was Sunday afternoon, the streets were crowded with students coming back early from home, and Baiyun sensed tension in the air. People wal
ked faster. Their faces were solemn instead of happy and relaxed from a weekend’s break. Some carried colored poster board under their arms. Along the gray-brick dormitory buildings, huge computer printouts hung out of windows saying, “Yaobang is gone, we mourn,” or “Yaobang, we are never going to forget you,” or “Yaobang, rest your soul, we will carry on your duty.” They flapped in the wind and made a crackling sound. As she approached the “triangle”, a famous poster area and students’ gathering place, she saw even more people. Layer upon layer of fresh new posters plastered the poster stand. Students were jammed in front of it on tiptoes. As an experienced junior, she decided to go back to her dormitory first and join the crowd later. She knew this was likely the beginning of a new student movement.

  She arrived at her dormitory, Building 27, and parked her bike. The long hallway spanning the ground floor was like a dark tunnel. Every time she walked into it, she felt like she was walking toward eternity. She climbed the cement staircases to the fourth floor. She stopped for a while to catch her breath. She reached her dormitory room and found the door closed. A pile of sunflower seed shells littered the hallway outside of the room. She knocked and quickly went back to the hallway

  “Who is it?” her roommate, Yumei, asked.

  The door slid open. As soon as Yumei’s face appeared, Baiyun jumped right in front of her.

  “Ah,” Yumei cried, “Baiyun, you’ve scared me.” They hugged each other. “It’s nice of you to come back early.”

  As usual, the room was in chaos. The dormitory room for six was just big enough for three double bunk beds on each side and a shared multi-purpose desk in the middle. The desk was also used as a communal dining table and now was covered with dirty dishes and leftover food.