Grotesque Read online

  A fellow I had known since we were children, Jian Ping, went off to Zhuhai in Guangtung, which later became designated as a Special Economic Zone. Here he took a job with a construction company, mixing cement and hauling building materials. With the money he sent back to the village, his family bought a color television, a motorcycle, and all kinds of other things that we considered great luxuries. I was so jealous I could die.

  I wanted to set out for the city as soon as I could. But how was I to raise the money? The earnings I made at the straw factory—one yuan a day—were so measly, I couldn’t even think of saving it. If I was going to get funds together, I’d have to take out a loan. But from whom? No one in the village was in a position to loan money. I had to raise the funds somehow so I could go off to the city like Jian Ping. That became my one and only dream.

  In 1988, the year before the Tiananmen Square massacre, news shot through the village that Jian Ping had died. From Zhuhai City, he could see Macau just across the harbor, and apparently he had drowned while trying to swim across and smuggle himself into the country. At least, that is the information provided by the person who wrote the letter announcing Jian Ping’s death.

  Jian Ping had wrapped his documents and money into a bundle and tied it to his head. He waited for the sun to go down and headed to the outskirts of Zhuhai. Then, with his eyes fastened on Macau, he began swimming. It was pitch-black and he swam a number of miles, intending to slip secretly into Macau waters. To a Japanese, his action would probably appear unbelievably reckless. But I can understand his feelings so strongly it makes my heart ache.

  Zhuhai and Macau are connected by land. You can stand on the streets of Zhuhai and look over at Macau. Just a breath away, a different country stretches out before your eyes, inhabited by the same race of people. And casinos. Macau has casinos. And money. Where there is money, one can do anything and go anywhere. In Macau people enjoy all kinds of freedoms, every freedom there is. But that freedom, we hear, is guarded by border patrols and surrounded by an electrified fence. Could there be a more cruel place on earth?

  If caught trying to sneak across the border, we were told that you’d be sent to a prison where the conditions were worse than horrible. You’d be stuffed into a tiny room where bedbugs the size of animals crawl over everything, and where you’re forced to fight others in the cell for the luxury of using the shit-encrusted slop jar.

  But there is no high wall in the water. The waves cross the seas freely. I decided that I would try to swim for freedom too. I would swim to Macau, perhaps even Hong Kong.

  In China, a person’s fate is determined by where he is born; that is an inescapable fact. Jian Ping was willing to risk his life in an effort to alter his predetermined destiny. When I heard what had happened, my ideas underwent a change. I was determined to take Jian Ping’s place in the effort to cross the ocean, to head for a free country where I could make as much money as I wanted.

  At the end of that year my family began to discuss a marriage proposal for my younger sister, Mei-kun. The proposal was a good one for a family like ours, seeing as how we lacked financial resources. Although the suitor was a man from our village, he came from a fairly wealthy family. But there was a marked difference in ages. Mei-kun was just nineteen and her suitor was already thirty-eight. The suitor was short and homely. Small wonder that he was still without a wife!

  “You’re going to accept his offer, aren’t you?” I asked my sister. “You’ll be able to live a better life than you have until now.”

  Mei-kun looked down at her lap and shook her head.

  “I absolutely refuse. I despise that puny little monkey of a man, even if he does have more money than we do. He’s so short I’d still have to look down on him, wouldn’t I! I won’t go. If they do make me go, I’ll agree to tending the fields, but that’s it. I’m not going to become an old woman like my sister.”

  I gazed at my little sister. What she said was not unreasonable. Our older sister—six years my senior—had married into a family that was not much better off than our own, and she had had children one right after the other until now she was as dried up as an old woman. But Mei-kun…Mei-kun was an adorably attractive girl, the very apple of my eye. Her cheeks were round and her nose thin. Her limbs were long and slender and graceful when she moved. Sichuan is known for its beautiful women. I’d heard that a girl from Sichuan could go to any city in the world and be assured of a warm reception. My little sister had inherited a wanderer’s blood from her grandfather. She was prettier than any of the girls in the nearby villages and she was headstrong.

  “If I had a suitor like you, I’d marry,” Mei-kun went on with great earnestness. “I’ve seen all the actors on the color television that Jian Ping’s family has, and I don’t think any of them come close to you.”

  I’m embarrassed if I seem conceited, but I have to admit that around my village people thought I was a handsome man. Of course, our village was small. If I went to the big cities I am sure I’d find any number of men better looking than I. Even so, my sister’s compliment gave me confidence. And after I came to Japan, people often told me I looked like the actor Takashi Kashiwabara. Mei-kun looked me right in the eye and said, “We ought to appear on TV together, you and me. We’re both good-looking, and we have a nice sense of style. I’ll bet we could make lots of money in the movies. But of course we’ll never get a chance, as long as we stay in a village like this. I’d rather die than stay here. Let’s go to Guangzhou together. Really. What do you say?”

  My sister looked around the cave where we lived—our dark, cold, damp home. Outside we could hear our mother and An-ji talking in gloomy tones about when it would be best to sow the millet. I couldn’t take much more of this place. I’d had enough. As I listened to An-ji’s voice, I supposed my sister had the same feelings. She reached out and took my hand.

  “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go and live in a house made of concrete, just the two of us. A house with plumbing and no need to haul water, a house with electric wiring throughout the walls, a bright warm house with a toilet and a bath. We could buy a television and a refrigerator, a washing machine too. It would be so much fun to live in a house like that with you!”

  We’d run electricity through the cave about two years ago. I’d stolen some electric wires and rigged them up to the closest utility pole.

  “I want to go, believe me I do. But we’ll have to save up the money. Right now I’m broke.”

  My sister looked at me like I was an idiot.

  “What are you talking about? I’ll be an old lady by the time you’ve saved up the money! And if we wait, I’ve heard, the train fares will go up as well.”

  I’d also heard the same rumor. They said train fares would be higher after the lunar New Year. That news made me want to leave all the sooner—certainly before the fares increased. But where was I going to find the funds to cover our travel? That’s when Mei-kun murmured, “If I agree to marry that man, he’ll have to bring me a gift of betrothal money, right? Why don’t we use that?”

  What my sister proposed was preposterous, yet we could think of no other way to get out of town. Reluctantly, I agreed to abscond with the money.

  When Mei-kun’s suitor heard she had agreed to marry him, he was overjoyed. He brought money over that he had been saving for several decades. All told it came to 500 yuan, more money than my entire family would make in a year. My father was delighted and stowed the money away in his chest. That’s where it was when my sister and I stole it. We fled from the village the day following New Year’s on the lunar calendar. Careful not to be seen, we raced toward the bus stop on the outskirts of town just before dawn, eager to catch the first bus of the morning.

  As early as it was, the bus was already packed. Others had heard the same story we had been told about the hike in train fares, and everyone was eager to get to the cities before the rates went up. My sister and I crammed ourselves and our heavy bags onto the bus, not to be deterred. We would have to stand th