Part 3 (1/2)
Evergreen picked up his brush pen and turned back to his poster. He dipped the pen into a water jar, then looked at Wild Ginger again.
”Am I bothering you?” Wild Ginger scratched her arm again.
”In a way,” he smiled.
”What's wrong with me watching you writing a poster? Isn't this supposed to be a public event?”
”Why are you nervous?”
”Why do you keep looking at me?”
”Do I?”
”Do I look like a reactionary?”
”A straight tree fears no crooked shadows.'” He threw away his pen and straightened up his back. ”Forgive me. I'm Evergreen.”
”h.e.l.lo.”
”So, are you here to view the big-character posters?”
”Well, not exactly. I'm here with Maple”-Wild Ginger pushed me toward him-”who thought you knew each other.”
”Maple! h.e.l.lo! Sorry I didn't recognize you. You look different.”
”It's my Mao jacket. The dye is bad. Every time I wash it the color changes.”
”It was blue last time.”
”And now it's purple.”
”Next time it'll turn brown.”
”You can count on that ... How is your father?”
”He is out of the hospital.”
”What did he have?”
”Tuberculosis. He worked as a miner for twenty-eight years.”
”Is he getting well?”
”The doctor told him to eat whatever he likes.”
”What does that mean?”
”He is not expected to live long.”
”I'm sorry to hear that. If there is anything I can do to help, please ... I can always fetch you the bean milk, for example.” Wild Ginger and Evergreen were staring at each other. ”Oh, let me introduce you two. This is Wild Ginger, my cla.s.smate, my best friend. Evergreen, my neighbor.”
”Wild Ginger? That's an unusual name.”
”Not as unusual as Evergreen, the Communist party secretary in Madame Mao's famous opera.”
”Are you an opera fan?”
Wild Ginger didn't seem to want to answer the question.
”Her mother is,” I answered for her. ”Her mother is an opera singer.”
”My mother is an enemy,” Wild Ginger said bluntly.
I turned to her. ”What are you doing?”
”Telling facts. So Evergreen doesn't confuse me with who I really am.”
”But isn't this a terrible way to introduce oneself?”
”I thought we came to ask for help. Should we tell the truth?” Wild Ginger shot back.
”No, we don't need help.” For a strange reason I suddenly changed my mind. I wasn't sure what it was. Something stirred me and my pride rose. It forbade me to be pitied.
”What kind of help, Maple?” Evergreen asked.
”Nothing. Actually, I'm just showing Wild Ginger around. What's new with you, Evergreen?”
Wild Ginger was puzzled. But she followed me.
Pulling the poster to the side Evergreen answered, ”I have been preparing for the coming Mao Quotation-Citing Contest. I am trying to recite three hundred pages. I want to upset my own record.”
”Ambitious!”
”I suppose that's what devotion and loyalty are all about.”
”Can anyone partic.i.p.ate?” Wild Ginger asked.
”It's an open contest.”
5.