Ocean of Words (22 page)

In a few days the whole company learned the doggerel. Big Liu was never offended by it. He even chanted it with others, but he would replace the name Big Liu with Small Wang, Old Meng, and some others. As his popularity grew, he was welcomed everywhere in the company. A boy like him could be a very able leader of a squad or a platoon. This was why I had planned to promote him to squad leader the next year. But who could tell he was a “Flowery Fox.”

Our Party secretary was right: There must have been a pimp. Hutou was over fifty
li
away from Mati Mountain, where we were garrisoned; at most Liu Fu had gone to the county town seven or eight times on Sundays. He had seen Little White Fairy six times? Almost every time he went there? It was impossible, unless at the very beginning somebody took him directly to that woman. I remembered Li Dong had gone with him for his first visit to the town, and the second time Zhao Yiming had accompanied him. Both of the older soldiers were reliable; it was unlikely that they could be pimps. But to know a man’s face is not to know his heart. I had to question Liu Fu about this.

Our talk did not take long. He looked crestfallen and ashamed, but he denied there had been somebody else involved and insisted to me that a good man must accept the consequences of his own actions.

In a way, I appreciated his only blaming himself for the whoring. If another man like him was found in my platoon,
I would have trouble clearing our name. People would chuckle and say the First Platoon had a whoring gang. That would give Liu Fu a hard time too, because he would surely be treated by the other men as a sort of traitor.

But I did take this case seriously, for I had to stop it. We stayed at the border to defend our country, and we must not lose our fighting spirit by chasing women. Unlike the Russians on the other side, we Chinese were revolutionary soldiers, and we could not rely on women to keep up our morale. Every Saturday night we saw from our watchtower the Russians having many college girls over in their barracks. They would sing and dance around bonfires, kiss and embrace in the open air, roll and fuck in the woods. They were barbarians and Revisionists, while we were Chinese and true Revolutionaries.

So I ordered Liu Fu to write out his self-criticism, examining the elements of bourgeois ideology in his brain and getting a clear understanding of the nature of his offense. He wept and begged me not to take disciplinary action against him. He was afraid his family would know it, and he would carry the stain for the rest of his life. I told him that a disciplinary action would have to be taken and that I was unable to help him with that. It was better to tell him the truth.

“So I’m done for?” His horsey eyes watched my mouth expectantly.

“Your case was sent down by the Regimental Political Department. You know our company cannot interfere with a decision from above. Usually, an offender like you
is
punished with a disciplinary action, but this doesn’t mean you will have to carry it for the rest of your life. It depends on your own behavior. Say from now on you behave well in every way, you may have it taken out of your file when you are demobilized.”

He opened his big mouth, but he didn’t say anything, as if he swallowed down some words that had been stuck in his throat. The word
demobilized
must have struck him hard, because a soldier like him from the countryside would work diligently in order to be promoted to officer’s rank. It would be a misfortune to return to his poor home village, where no job waited for him; if he had no job, no girl would marry him. But with such a stigma in his record, Liu Fu’s future in the army was fixed: He would never be an officer.

Two days later he turned in his self-criticism. On eight white sheets were lines of big scrawled words and a few ink stains. A country boy like him of course couldn’t say extraordinary things. His language was plain, and many sentences were broken. The gist of his self-criticism was that he had not worked hard enough to purge the bourgeois ideology from his head and that he had contracted the disease of liberalism. The Seventh Rule for the Army stated clearly: “Nobody is allowed to take liberties with women,” but he had forgotten Chairman Mao’s instruction and violated the rule. He also had forgotten his duty as a soldier staying on the Northern Frontier: When the enemies were sharpening their teeth and grinding their sabers at the border, he was indulging himself in sexual pleasure. He was unworthy of the nurture of the Party, unworthy of the Motherland’s expectation, unworthy of his parents’ efforts to raise him, unworthy of the gun that the people had entrusted to his hands, unworthy of his new green uniform.

I knew he was not a glib man, so I spared him the trouble of putting more self-scathing words in writing. His attitude was sincere; this alone counted.

He looked a little comforted when I told him that I would try to persuade Secretary Chang to ask the Regimental Political Department to administer less severe punishment to
him. “This is not over yet,” I warned him, “but you mustn’t take it as a heavy burden. Try to turn over a new leaf and work hard to make up for it.”

He said he was grateful and would never forget my help.

Two weeks passed. We had not heard anything from the Political Department about Liu Fu’s case. Neither the Party secretary nor the company commander ever requested an action. It would be unwise to do that, because the longer we waited the more lenient the punishment would be. Time would take away the interest and the urgency of the case. In fact, none of the company leaders would welcome a severe action against Liu Fu. Liu was their man; no good leader would like to see his own man being punished.

A month passed, and still nothing happened. Liu Fu seemed very patient and was quieter than before. To prevent him from being involved with Little White Fairy again, we kept him at Mati Mountain on weekends. We were also strict about permitting other men, especially new soldiers, to visit Hutou Town.

One night it was my turn to make the rounds through all our sentry posts, checking the men on duty to make sure they didn’t doze off. We had five posts, including the new one at the storehouse where we kept our food and a portion of our ammunition. I hated to do the supervision at midnight, when you had to jump out of bed and pretend to be as awake as a cat. If you didn’t look spirited in front of them, the men on duty would follow your example and make no effort to stay awake.

I went to the parking yard first, where our trucks and mortars stood, and caught the sentry smoking in the dark. I ordered him to put out his cigarette. The boy complained it was too cold and he couldn’t keep his eyelids apart if he had
nothing to do. I told him that everybody had to stand his hours on cold nights. Nobody but the Lord of Heaven was to blame for the cold. As for his sleepiness, he’d better bear in mind that we were merely four
li
away from the Russians. If he didn’t stay alert, he put his own neck at risk. The Russians often sent over their agents to find out our sentry positions and deployment. They would get rid of a sentry if they found it necessary and convenient. So for his own safety, he’d better keep his eyes open and not show them where he was.

Next I went to the gate post and our headquarters. Everything was fine at these two places. I chatted with each of the men for a few minutes and gave them some roasted sunflower seeds. Then I left for the storehouse.

The post was empty there, so I waited inside the house, believing the sentry must have been urinating or emptying his bowels somewhere outside.

After ten minutes nobody showed up. I began to worry and was afraid something unusual might have happened. I couldn’t shout to summon the sentry over. That was the last thing you would do at night, because it would wake up the whole company and the Russians might hear it as well. But I had to find out where the soldier had hidden himself. He must have been dozing away somewhere. There were no disordered footprints in the snow; it was unlikely that he had been kidnapped or murdered. I picked up a line of footprints that looked new and followed it for a little distance. They were heading toward our stable. I raised my eyes and saw a dim light at the skylight on the stable’s roof. Somebody must be there. What’s he up to in the stable? Who is on duty? I looked at my luminous watch — 1:30 — and couldn’t recall who the sentry was.

Getting close to the door, I heard some noise inside, so I hastened my steps. With my rifle I raised the cotton door
curtain to take a look inside and make sure no one was hiding behind the door waiting to knock me down.

It was Liu Fu! He was standing beside our gray mule buckling his belt. His gun leaned against the long manger, and his fur hat hung on its muzzle. Beyond the mule stood a dozen horses, asleep with downcast heads. So he is the sentry. The rascal, he’s using the stable as a latrine. How luxurious, keeping his butt warm in here.

No. I noticed something unusual. Behind the gray mule’s hindquarters was a bench. On the bench there were some particles of snow and some wet smudges. The beast! He has been screwing the mule! Looking at him, I found his sweating face distorted with an awkward but clear expression, as if saying to me:
I can’t help it, please, I can’t help it!

I sprang at him and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. Though he was much bigger and stronger than I was, I felt him go limp in my hand. Of course, a spent beast. I started slapping his face and cursing. “You — mule fucker! You never give your cock a break! I’ll geld you today and throw your itchy balls to the dogs!”

He didn’t resist and merely moaned, as if my cursing and slapping made him feel better. He looked so ashamed. Not encountering any resistance, I soon cooled down. You couldn’t go on for long beating a man who didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself. I let him go and ordered, “Back to the storehouse. We’ll settle it tomorrow.”

He picked up his gun, wiped away the tears on his cheeks with his hat, and went out quietly. In the stable all the animals were awake now, their eyes open and their ears raised. One horse snorted.

I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and had Li Yaoping, Liu Fu’s squad leader, awakened. We had to talk before I reported this to our Party secretary. I wanted to know more about Liu Fu.
It was understandable if you screwed a girl in the town, because there was no woman on the mountain. But to screw a dumb animal like that, who could imagine it! It nauseated me.

Li was not completely awake when he came into my room. I gave him a cigarette and struck a match for him. “Sit down. I want to talk with you.”

He sat on a stool and began smoking. “What do you want to talk about on a dark — ” He looked at his watch. “It’s already half past two in the morning.”

“I want to talk about Liu Fu. Just now I found him in the stable fooling around with the gray mule.” I wouldn’t say, “He screwed the mule,” since I didn’t see him do it. But I was sure of it, and Liu Fu himself had not denied it when I cursed and beat him. I was about to explain to Li what I meant.

“Oh no, you mean he did it again?” Li shook his freckled face.

“Yes. So you knew it already?”

“Ye-yes.” He nodded.

“Why didn’t you inform me of that before? Who gave you the right to hide it from me?” I was angry and would have yelled at him if some of my men had not been sleeping in the adjacent room.

“He promised me never to do it again.” Li looked worried. “I thought I should give him a chance.”

“A chance? Didn’t we give him one when he was caught with Little White Fairy?” I felt outraged. Apparently this thing had been going on in my platoon for quite a while, but I had never got a whiff of it. “Tell me, when did you see him do it and how many times?”

“I saw him with the mule just once. It was last Saturday night. I saw him standing on a bench and hanging on the mule’s hindquarters. I watched for a minute through the
back window of the stable, then I coughed. He was scared and immediately fell off. When he saw me come in, he knelt down, begging me to forgive him and not to tell on him. He looked so piteous, a big fellow like that, so I told him I wouldn’t tell. But I did criticize him.”

“What did you say? How did you criticize him, my comrade squad leader?” I felt it strange that he took such pity on the man.

“I asked him why he had to screw the mule.” Li looked rather cheerful.

“What a stupid question. How did he answer it?”

“He said, ‘You know, Squad Leader, only — only mules don’t foal. I promise, I’ll never touch any — any of these mares.” ’ Li started tittering.

“What? It’s absurd. You mean he thought he could get those mares with babies?”

“Yeah, yes!”

“What a silly fellow! So moral, he’s afraid of being a father of horsey bastards.” I couldn’t help laughing, and Li’s tittering turned into loud laughter too.

“Shhh.” I reminded him of the sleepers.

“I told him even the mule must not be ‘touched,’ and he promised not to do it again.” Li winked at me.

“Old Li, you’re an old fox.”

“Don’t be so hard on me, my platoon leader. To be fair, he is a good boy in every way except that he can’t control his lust. I don’t know why. If you say he has too much bourgeois stuff in his head, that won’t fit. He is from a pure poor peasant family, a healthy seedling on a red root —”

“I don’t want you to work out a theory, Old Li. I want to know how we should handle him now. This morning, in a few hours, I will report this to our Company Headquarters. What should we say and how should we say it?”

“Well, do you want to get rid of him or keep him?”

This was indeed the crucial question, but I didn’t have an answer. Liu Fu was my best man, and I would need him in the future. “What’s your opinion then? At least we must not cover it up this time.” I realized that Old Li hadn’t told on Liu Fu because he wanted to keep him in his squad.