Read Beijing Coma Online

Authors: Ma Jian

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #History & Criticism, #Regional & Cultural, #Asian, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary, #Criticism & Theory

Beijing Coma (97 page)

BOOK: Beijing Coma
11.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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‘And who do you think
you
are?’ the guy in the vest shouted, striding up to me.
‘I’m head of the student marshals,’ I said calmly. ‘I’m responsible for security in the Square. If you want to fight, go to the front line and help defend the barricades. The Square is the rear area of the battle. We don’t need military force here.’
‘I’m not leaving the Square! Do you have any idea of how many people have been killed tonight while trying to protect you?’ He waved his knife threateningly then turned round and rejoined Wu Bin. Another member of their gang was lifting a machine gun onto a marble balustrade. A crowd quickly gathered round them to see what they were up to.
Fan Yuan waved a bottle of petrol at the crowd and shouted, ‘All unarmed students must leave the Monument now.’ The bandanna he’d tied around his baseball cap said GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH!
Two female marshals from the Workers’ Federation broke into tears and said, ‘We can’t wait here for the army to kill us. Come on! Let’s go onto the streets and fight them.’
Shan Bo rushed out of the tent and shouted, ‘Put down your weapons! How can you hope to bring about democracy with knives and guns in your hands?’
A doctor followed Shan Bo out of the tent and said, ‘Calm down! You’re still on hunger strike.’
My brother suddenly appeared with a group of friends. ‘Anyone who’s afraid to fight should leave the Square at once!’ they shouted. ‘The rest of you must pledge to defend the Square to the death.’ They were armed with broken-off table legs. I told him to put down the weapons, but he ignored me. I remembered how once, when we were kids, he pounced on me and punched my jaw to pay me back for pinching his ear after he stole one of my biscuits.
‘You might have been able to fight off the armed police with those table legs,’ I said, ‘but PLA soldiers are surrounding us now. They have guns and live ammunition, and can shoot you dead from a hundred metres.’
‘If we’re armed, the soldiers won’t dare storm into the Square.’ My brother had spent most of the previous day hanging out with Wu Bin. After just three days in the Square, he’d become much more radical.
‘Don’t assume you’re invincible,’ I said to my brother. ‘Remember: bullets have no eyes. We can’t both stay in the Square. I’m head of security here, and if trouble breaks out, the students will need my help. You go home now. If we don’t resist, we’ll be able to return to the campuses or, at worst, we’ll get flung in jail. But if we attack, the army will shoot into the crowd and rivers of blood will flow through the city. One of us has to stay alive and look after Mum.’
‘You think you can persuade me to be a deserter?’ my brother said, walking away. ‘No chance!’
‘Stay then, if you want,’ I said, pulling him back. ‘But put down that stick. You have no right to drag the rest of us into a violent conflict.’ When I’d argued with him in the past, I only had to kick him in the shins and he’d do as I asked. But he was a young man now, a slightly smaller version of myself, and was no longer willing to take orders from me.
‘Dai Wei, Shi Ye’s looking for you,’ Chen Di said, spotting me as he walked past. ‘She’s with a pretty girl in a white dress.’
‘Really?’ I glanced around and wondered whether the girl might be A-Mei. My mind clouded over. I wanted to see her.
Shan Bo shouted that we should confiscate the machine gun. Hou Dejian and Zi Duo came out of the tent to help.
‘You must stop your hunger strike,’ Zhuzi said to them. ‘The army are coming. Listen to the gunfire. Those are real bullets!’ He turned on his walkie-talkie and pressed the buttons so that they could hear the noises of gunfire and screaming being transmitted from the major intersections around the city.
‘They’re shooting at everyone in sight,’ Chen Di said. ‘Every bulletin we receive brings news of more deaths and injuries.’
‘Yes, we must end the hunger strike,’ Zi Duo said.
‘The army would only shoot people who are brandishing weapons,’ Hou Dejian said. ‘My hands are empty. They wouldn’t attack me.’ He was trying to speak loudly, but he was very weak. None of the four men had eaten anything for almost thirty hours.
‘I’ve just been told that my friend Wu Guofeng has been killed,’ Fan Yuan shouted out to us. ‘He was shot in the stomach with an exploding bullet. His guts are splayed all over the ground! I’m going over there now. Will any of you join me?’
‘There’s no point fighting them, you’ll never win.’ As soon as Zi Duo said this, his girlfriend walked over and put a piece of bread into his mouth.
I could hear Hai Feng nearby, shouting through a megaphone: ‘We will never bow down before the executioners!’
Mimi and Tian Yi began reading out the battle commands Old Fu had handed them. But the amplifiers weren’t working properly, so no one could make out what they were saying.
‘This is a message to all Qinghua University students,’ Zhou Suo shouted through his megaphone. ‘Our university has sent vans to take us back to the campus. If any of you want to leave, go and board them now.’
‘Tell them to let the girls go first,’ Zhuzi said, rushing over to Mimi. Tian Yi was running around frantically behind them. I felt I was watching a video on fast-forward.
‘What’s this talk about leaving?’ Big Chan shouted. ‘We must stay in the Square until dawn. There’s no need to be afraid. I’ve heard that when the citizens at the barricades throw stones at the troops, the young soldiers run away in terror.’
‘Help me extend this cable, Dai Wei,’ Old Fu said. ‘And Bai Ling, stay in the tent and don’t move. The students need to know that you’re here, or they will lose morale.’
‘Why have you stationed marshals up here at a time like this?’ Sister Gao shouted out as she and Shao Jian pushed past a student who was trying to block their way. The brown shirt she was wearing made her face look pale.
‘They’re not marshals,’ I said. ‘They’re just some students from the Politics and Law University who volunteered to protect the hunger strike tent.’
‘Where’ve you been?’ Old Fu asked Shao Jian.
‘The troops are forcing their way down West Changan Avenue, spraying bullets into the crowds,’ Shao Jian said, trudging over to Zi Duo, his face dripping with sweat and a rucksack slung over his shoulder.
‘Tell the students to hand in their weapons,’ Old Fu said to me. ‘We can’t allow them to be armed.’
‘Ask Bai Ling to make the announcement,’ I said. ‘She was the one who told everyone to arm themselves.’
‘Well, it was Wang Fei’s stupid idea, not hers,’ Old Fu said.
‘We must stick to our policy of non-violence,’ Sister Gao said. ‘If we use weapons, we’ll all end up dead.’ There was a look of despair on her face that I hadn’t seen before.
As I helped Chen Di carry more broadcast equipment over to the hunger strike tent, I glanced around, looking for my brother, but couldn’t see him anywhere.
‘Lin Lu has sent the Dare-to-Die Squad to block the convoys in the east,’ Dong Rong said, climbing onto the upper terrace. ‘But there are only twelve of them. What use is that? The troops are opening fire now, shooting randomly into the crowds. They’ve already reached the Jianguomen intersection.’ His designer shirt was torn at the collar. He looked like an extra in a fight scene.
The upper terrace was packed. We were like refugees penned inside a fence. We would babble at each other feverishly, then walk off before anyone had a chance to answer. As soon as someone joined our throng, we surrounded them and launched into a new debate.
I saw Big Chan, with his guitar slung from a strap around his neck, rush back into the Square with Qiu Fa and Wang Fei. All three were pushing bicycles.
As soon as Wang Fei stepped onto the terrace, he switched on his black megaphone and yelled, ‘The troops opened fire! At first they aimed at the ground, then a few soldiers lifted their guns and shot indiscriminately at the crowd . . .’ I gave him a leg up so that he could stand on the edge of the sculptured frieze, then I put my hand on his thigh to stop him falling off. Everyone could see him now. ‘After that, tanks, armoured vehicles and army trucks crashed over the barricades . . . Look at this towel!’ He pulled a towel from his trouser pocket. ‘A student called Zhou Jiang got a bullet in his stomach and died right before my eyes. I tried to smother the wound with this towel, but the blood just kept spurting out.’ He pointed to his navel. Without his glasses on, his eyes looked blank. I could feel his thigh begin to shake. He’d slipped into his Sichuan dialect, and not many people understood what he said. I told him to pass his megaphone to Qiu Fa.
I knew the student he mentioned. He’d joined my student marshal team the night we went to Wangfujing Street to protect the shops from looters. He was Zhuzi’s secret intelligence officer. He had a walkie-talkie. Cao Ming had told me that everyone issued with walkie-talkies was bound to get tailed by government agents.
Qiu Fa stared into the night sky and said, ‘Troops armed with live ammunition ran up onto the overpass and shot at the crowd in the street below, yelling at the top of their voices. I took cover behind a telegraph pole . . . One of the soldiers looked like he was on drugs. Whenever he heard someone cry “Down with Fascism!” he’d point his machine gun at them and unleash a barrage of bullets. Sometimes the soldiers shot at the buildings, killing people who were leaning out of the windows. A teacher from People’s University climbed into an army truck to speak to the troops, but as he got on, a soldier pushed him off and stabbed him in the chest with a bayonet.’
Everyone fell silent. I could hear a walkie-talkie crackling nearby.
I helped Wang Fei down and we went off with Old Fu to join our gang outside the hunger strike tent. Old Fu turned to Bai Ling, Wang Fei and Lin Lu, and said, ‘As commanders of the Square, you must tell all students who are holding sticks, bricks or Molotov cocktails to put them down at once!’
‘And we must persuade all female students to return to the campuses,’ Sister Gao said. ‘They will be safer there, and it will help break up the troops. I’m going to try to sneak through the army lines and fetch reinforcements from the Business and Economics University.’
Bai Ling had changed into a yellow and white striped T-shirt. She was pacing around distractedly like a patient in a mental asylum. Tian Yi was helping Mimi and Chen Di drag a table over to the tent. The few girls still remaining on the terrace looked tiny compared to the guys standing around them. I wished A-Mei hadn’t chosen to arrive in Beijing now, just as the army was shooting its way into the city.
Chen Di put a chair in front of the table outside the tent, asked Bai Ling to sit down, then handed her the microphone.
Annoyed that no one had responded to her, Sister Gao walked off with two journalists. Soldiers were shooting into the air now. Glowing tracer bullets arced through the night sky then exploded with a brilliant white flash. When I glanced at Sister Gao, I thought I saw a bullet enter her back.
Bai Ling looked up at Wang Fei. The passion and resolve she’d shown during the twenty days we’d been in the Square had gone. She’d led the students to a precipice, and now they were trying to push her over the edge. But somehow she found the strength to open her mouth and say, ‘I am Bai Ling, commander-in-chief. I am asking all of you to put down your weapons, and for the girls to return to the campuses at once . . . Fellow students, the black day has finally arrived. At this final moment, I would like to read out a poem by Li Qingzhao, a female writer of the Song Dynasty: “In life, we should be heroes among the living. / In death, let us be heroes among the ghosts. / To this day we mourn Xiang Yu, / Who chose to stay and die rather than cross the Yangtse River!” When General Xiang Yu was surrounded by enemy troops, he stood firm and chose not to escape to his family on the other side of the river. Fellow students! We are still young, and perhaps we might lack courage when we come face to face with a ruthless army that has shot its way through the city. But we are honourable and upstanding citizens. Whatever happens, we must stay firm and not let our families down . . . Let us use our idealism to wake the Chinese people from their slumber!’ By the end of her speech, she was forcing the words out through sobs.
Everyone on the terrace stood still. Tian Yi and Mimi were wiping away tears. I edged over to them and said, ‘If you start crying, everyone will, and the mood could get dangerously volatile.’
‘Nonsense!’ Tian Yi said, pushing me away, her face as white as paper.
Through Wang Fei’s walkie-talkie, a voice crackled, ‘The tanks are coming! . . .’ then broke off. Wang Fei frantically pressed the buttons but couldn’t regain the connection.
I became anxious. I wanted to find a safe hiding place for Tian Yi before the army came. I could see she had no strength left.
On the slopes of Mount Shamen grows the herb of immortality. A large bird sits on the summit, keeping watch over a black snake that lives in the dark river below.
‘Where is it, where is it?’ my mother screams, banging her head against the wardrobe. She gnashes her teeth and cries in pain. She often has screaming fits, but usually manages to lower her professionally trained voice to a deep howl that’s inaudible to the neighbours.
My mother hasn’t thrown anything out of the flat for years, so she has trouble finding things. I imagine the flat is so crammed now that there isn’t much room to stand.
She goes to the sofa, which is piled with biscuit tins, paper boxes, and the letters, bills and leaflets that get stuffed into her mailbox downstairs. As she kicks some cardboard boxes to the ground, her stomach rumbles. I hear her jangling her keys.
She is continually changing our locks, but forgets to throw away the old keys, so they stay on the same ring with the new ones, together with the keys to her leather suitcase, bicycle, and to the small shed outside in which she stores cabbages and charcoal briquettes. Sometimes she sits down and goes through each key, telling herself which one is for what, but then loses track halfway and has to start over again. She’ll begin by saying, ‘Bathroom, front door, window,’ but will soon make do with, ‘Big, small, copper, aluminium . . .’
BOOK: Beijing Coma
11.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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