Last Kiss in Tiananmen Square (23 page)

“Are you sure that you can eat a lot?” Baiyun really concerned about Yumei for being a hunger striker. “You usually eat so little and your body is too small to store a lot of food. I will bring some snacks just in case you faint so I can feed you.”

“What? You can’t do that! This is an official Hunger Strike!” said Yumei.

Yumei was sounding really tense and serious this morning, Baiyun thought. “Ok. Whatever you say. Just be careful.”

“Thank you. But careful is not our priority now. We have committed, haven’t we?” Yumei raised her fist forcefully. “This is our last chance to force the government to have a dialogue with us. Gorbachev is coming in two days. If the students and government don’t reach an agreement before that, we will stay in the Tiananmen Square. The government may really send the troops in to disperse us.”

“Yes,” cut in Li Yan, “I see danger written all over this.” She straightened her shirt, “But we are committed and can’t back out.” She marched out. Yumei and Baiyun followed.

Once they were outside, Baiyun realized how big a deal this was. After they mingled with groups of people walking toward Cafeteria #1, people came to shake Yumei’s hands and gave her hugs. “Yumei, you are a brave soul. We admire you. Take care.” Yumei, who was used to having a lot of attention, was wordless at this moment. Baiyun could see tears lingering in her eyes but she held back her tears. She looked determined.

When forty hunger strikers sat in the middle of the cafeteria, many reporters and cameramen from CNN, The London Times, The China Daily and Hong Gong News and World Report were snapping pictures. The flashbulbs were like lightening traveling in the normally dark cafeteria, which cast an ominous shadow over the event. Yet this shadow had been easily illuminated by Longfe’s speech.

“We want to tell our parents: don’t pity us when we are hungry and thirsty. We want to tell our aunts and uncles: don’t feel sad when we have gone. We only have one wish: that those whom we leave behind will have a better life. We have only one request: that you remember us as young men and women who pursued life, not death.”

The forty hunger strikers boarded a nearby bus after the meal. Using reporter’s badges, Baiyun and Li Yan were able to enter the crowded bus that was full of reporters, camera crews and hunger strikers. As the big coach bus moved slowly through the streets toward the Monument of the People’s Heroes, a group of students on bicycles from Beida, Qinghua and Beijing Normal University followed it waving flags and shouting slogans.

“Long Live Democracy!”

“Students are Patriotic, not Instigators!”

“Long Live the Chinese People!”

When Baiyun got off the bus at the Monument of the People’s Heroes, she noticed right away the flag of the “Beijing Worker’s Union” billowing in the air and a group of fifty workers in white shirts and black pants sitting on the top tier of the Monument steps looking solemn. Along with them were students from a few other universities. Baiyun stood on her tiptoes trying hard to look for Dagong and she thought she could see him under the flag. She could see his sharp but fierce eyes and his swarthy face under his slightly curly black hair. An idea hit her. Dagong was up there sacrificing his life. Why couldn’t she? Maybe Dagong couldn’t marry her or even date her but they could sit next to each other in this Hunger Strike and fight alongside each other in this pro-democracy movement. At that moment, she was standing under the Monument of People’s Heroes, which gave her more courage. The Monument was located in the south side of the Tiananmen Square and was built in memory of the martyrs who gave up their lives for the revolutionary struggles of the Chinese people during the 19th and 20th centuries. As depicted by the marble sculptures along sides of the Monument, over the course of Chinese history, millions of people had lost their lives during the First Opium War, The Jintian Village uprising, The Wuchang Uprising, The May 4
^th
Movement, The May 30
^th
Movement, The Nanchang Uprising and The War of Resistance Against Japan. Standing at this majestic monument, she could sense the magic seeping through the marble sculptures and flowing into her heart. She felt bold and free. She waited for the student hunger strikers to walk up the stairs and sit down before making her announcement. She also waited for Li Yan to finish snapping pictures.

“Li Yan, I would like to join the hunger strikers.” Baiyun poked Li Yan. “I can do my report writing up there.” She pointed her finger toward where the “Beijing Worker’s Union” hunger strikers were.

“What? You are getting crazier and crazier. If I tell people you used to spend the whole day and night in the library studying, nobody would believe me. I will join in later. But now, I would like to take some good photos before going up there and sitting down. I can’t just let the foreign journalists take all the good photos,” said Li Yan.

“Can you lend me your white shirt?” Baiyun realized that she would be the only person in red among hunger strikers.

“You can stand by the red flag and no one would notice. Besides, where would we exchange?” Li Yan was always the practical one. “Very soon, all kinds of people would join the Hunger Strike. So you wouldn’t have to be in white and black.”

“You are right. This monument is magical and will attract all kinds of people over to join the Hunger Strike.” Baiyun couldn’t wait to join Dagong.

“Make sure that you turn on your radio while you are there. If the dialogue between the Student Dialogue Delegation and the government Propaganda department is successful, we are supposed to clear out of the square. I know you don’t want this to end. You are having too much fun here,” said Li Yan before going back to snapping pictures.

“You rascal!” Baiyun hit Li Yan’s shoulder with one of her fists. It was so weak that Li Yan didn’t even react. “Of course, I want it to end.” Baiyun’s voice trailed off. She hadn’t thought about what to do in terms of her relationship with Dagong. Could he get a divorce? If not, should she still see him secretly or openly like her mother Meiling? She hadn’t had time to talk it over with Dagong yet. In her mind, she was telling herself, I would not be like Meiling for sure. Yet right now, all she wanted was to run up the steps and gave Dagong a big hug and sit with him as long as she could.

“Bye, Li Yan.” Baiyun ran up the steps two at a time toward Dagong.

As she was getting closer to the top where Dagong sat, Baiyun slowed down. She noticed the solemnness of the atmosphere. She squeezed through a sea of people before she reached where Dagong was. She sat down and looked at Dagong who beamed at her briefly and then grabbed her hand. Baiyun could feel the warmth of his body passing through her. They are together now in this crucial moment of the movement, Baiyun said to herself. This was a beginning and with him, she was ready to fight any obstacles. Maybe she even could die with Dagong. She thought about “Romeo and Juliet”, the book she read a month ago.

“Why are you a hunger striker? I thought your will to live is stronger than the will to die,” asked Dagong without looking at Baiyun. Deep inside him, he knew why Baiyun was here but he liked to hear her own words.

“It is because I want to die with you.” Baiyun turned her head toward Dagong looking at him affectionately.

“We can be the Chinese Romeo and Juliet,” Baiyun whispered into his ears.

Dagong nodded and wrapped his arm around her tightly.

“The Government cheated us again. Instead of broadcasting the Dialogue between the Student Dialogue Delegation and the Head of Propaganda department on CCTV (Central China TV), they broadcast the Asian Soccer game,” said Longfe through a load speaker. “This Hunger Strike must go on!” He threw his fisted hand into the air. Everyone followed.

After five hours, a few people fainted due to the early summer heat.

“I worry about Yumei,” said Baiyun breaking a long silence between her and Dagong. In order to conserve energy, they had their mouths sealed most of time.

“I agree,” said Dagong. “I think in order to preserve our man power, we should have a second shift coming here tomorrow if we are still here tomorrow.”

“What do you think it’s going to happen?”

“If the students and the government don’t reach an agreement tonight at midnight, the government might send the troops in to clear us out. They will need at least one day to clean up the blood before Gorbachev comes in two days. On the other hand, it might be embarrassing for the government if they do a massive killing just before Gorbachev’s arrival. So the situation is very dicey now. The domino could fall either way.”

“No matter what happens, I will be with you,” said Baiyun. Her head fell on Dagong’s shoulder as she spoke. She was growing tired as the day progressed. The flag provided a nice shield for her so no one could see they were in such intimate positions.

“Sure, I will try to carry you if you can’t walk anymore. You can become a part of me.”

“Won’t your wife be jealous?”

“I don’t know. You are a sick student hunger striker. I have to help. What can she do?” Dagong sighed. “She wants me to take her to places she has no ability to reach by herself like the United States. Now I have lost the interests in going. I don’t know if she still loves me. Look, the ‘Flying Tiger Brigade’ is here to rescue fainted hunger strikers.” Dagong touched Baiyun’s head lightly.

“Oh, no! My mother.” Baiyun ducked her head trying to hide behind Dagong.

At this moment more people joined the Hunger Strike as the sick people were carried away by medical personnel and motor cycles. It was no longer quiet. People turned on their radios and even battery-powered portable TVs to find out whether the dialogue had been broadcast live. It was obviously not the case. Only the voice of soccer game announcer could be heard all around. Dusk had fallen upon them with a beautiful sky that consisted of red, black and blue.

“Silly, I don’t think your mother would find you in the chaos and darkness,” said Dagong. “Look at the moon. It is almost full.” Dagong pointed to the sky.

“I guess it would be full, just in time to commensurate the people who would die after midnight tonight.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen yet.” Dagong tried to comfort Baiyun yet his voice was not too convincing.

“I never expected life to be perfect. I could be happy with a moon that’s almost full.” She turned to Dagong looking a little sad. “If I could spend tonight with you, I would be very happy. If I could spend tomorrow night with you, I would be happier but I’m not asking that much.”

At this moment, a few policemen approached them, which like a gust of wind gave Baiyun a chill down to the bone.

“Who is Dagong Liang? Can you step out? We have some questions for you.” asked the tall thin policeman.

“I’m Dagong Liang.” Dagong stood up.

The police turned to a bald man with a solid built and asked, “Mr. Wang, is he the right person?”

“Yes.” Mr. Wang nodded avoiding eye contacts with his neighbor Dagong.

“I am arresting you for instigating illegal activities in Tiananmen Square,” said the Policeman.

“Ok.” Dagong stood up and extended his arms to let the police put handcuff on his hands.

“Dagong.” Baiyun stood up and yelled. The policeman pushed her and she fell down onto the steps.

Baiyun could hear loud noises down below and Yumei asking for help for Longfe. Then she saw Longfe and a few other student leaders being escorted away by the police. She went down the steps and saw Yumei in tears. They hugged each other.

Chapter 15

When Zhang Ping came home from work at 6:00pm, she found the students had invaded her home. Fifty or so students bundled in thick blankets, were lying all over the yard. Some of them were sleeping while some were unconscious. Their eyes behind their white-rimmed glasses were closed. Their faces were dark and sunken. Their hair was gummy. Little Pea was trying to feed them with hot porridge. Her boyfriend was cooking more in the kitchen. A doctor-looking lady dressed in white coat was walking around with a stethoscope over her shoulders. She was checking on the sickest looking student’s health. An occasionally cry or scream could be heard.

Zhang Ping looked around and found hundreds of towels, shirts, pants, under wears, tank tops and even women’s period strips were hanging on ropes between trees. The various items obscured the sky from the yard and dripped water as though it was raining.

Since the yard was so crowded, Zhang Ping had to maneuver around the bodies to serve the hot porridge. Then she noticed that the corn, the sunflower plants and the vegetables she had planted during the spring were all trod upon. So were the neighbor’s plants. The student movement had turned everybody’s life into chaos. Maybe for some people it was a joyful chaos because chaos could bring changes to one’s life. But for Zhang Ping, that was not the case. Her husband Dagong had not showed up at home very much. She knew where he was. She had gone to the square and tried to persuade him to come back. He told her that he was busy and he had become the Hunger Strike leader for the workers. She threw herself onto the ground and begged him not to do such a dangerous thing. She told him that she did not want him to die. He told her not to worry. Out of desperation, she and Little Turnip went back to her parent’s home to hide out for a day. Today she came back herself to check what was going on, and of course, there was a lot.