The Explosion Chronicles (46 page)

In order to avoid those noisy crowds, Mingliang got out of the car and took some back streets to the old city, proceeding in the opposite direction from the crowds. The sun on this first day of June covered in a gold veneer the buildings, bridges, and twin towers that Mingyao had helped erect. Ever since he was promoted to county mayor ten years earlier, he had never walked alone through his city like this. This was his city, and these were his people. The city’s skyscrapers and overpasses, its gardens and its intersections, and every flower and plant lining its streets—all of these fell under his oversight. If he were but to give the word in his next directive, all of the city’s willow trees would bloom with scholar-tree blossoms; if it were known that he was on his way somewhere, all of the cars and bicycles in the streets would pull over to let him pass. To prevent people from recognizing him, he grabbed a white flag from somewhere and held it up, as though he were just an ordinary citizen out celebrating in the streets. His face was covered in sweat, and he used the flag to wipe it. After he turned from the main road into a small alley called Deren, he threw down the white flag. Deren Alley led directly from Explosion’s main street to the old city road. At the time this alley was being reconstructed, and he had personally assigned it its current name. Because the alley led directly to the old
city road, and all of the tumult and excitement was in the new city district, once he reached this alley he was able to sigh with relief. He drank a sip of water from a faucet in the alley, then hurried on toward the old city road.

When he finally reached the opening to the road, the sun in the west reappeared and shone down, scattering red light over the old city streets and covering the houses, walls, and ground in red, yellow, and blue slogans and banners. The slogans and banners all bore the phrase “Welcome back Mayor Kong!” He didn’t know, however, whether all these banners on the trees, on the walls, and hanging in midair like late-autumn fruit had appeared on their own or whether someone had arranged for them in advance. The opening stretch of road was as quiet as the wilderness, and it was as if the residents of every house and every building had all gone out to celebrate in the streets and public squares, and even to city hall itself, leaving the smaller alleys completely empty. But when he emerged from the alley, he found himself in the old city streets, where everything was in a great tumult. A red carpet had been laid out leading right up to Zhu Ying’s house, and when Mingliang looked out at the red mountains and red ocean, he saw that all of the tree leaves were red, the houses’ old blue bricks were now red, and even the sparrows, turtledoves, and crows flying through the sky had turned red. Many of the residents of these old city streets were no longer people who had been born in Explosion, but rather outsiders who had flooded into Explosion after it began to develop. Because Mayor Kong had lived on this street when he was growing up, these newcomers had paid a high price to buy houses there. Standing on both sides of the red carpet, people applauded wildly when they saw Mingliang, and shouts of “Welcome Mayor Kong back to the old city!” echoed rhythmically through their applause. There were also boys and girls wearing matching red scarves, standing on
both sides of the road and holding wreaths of flowers as they sang one welcoming song after another. Next, two elementary school students ran up to Mingliang and presented him with flowers and a red scarf. When Mingliang did not express any excitement, a passerby quickly went up to him and whispered in his ear, telling him to stop since Aunt Zhu’s home was ahead. Mingliang nodded and grunted in response. Then a worker pointed his right index finger at his left palm, gesturing for everyone to quiet down. Everyone who had gathered to welcome the mayor instantly grew quiet. The people stood along the sides of the road, looking as though they had done something wrong. Some of the leaves and petals from the flowers and wreaths they were holding fell to the ground, others fell into their outstretched hands, and still others hovered in midair, uncertain what to do. In this silence, Mingliang walked along the red carpet toward Zhu Ying’s house. He quickly remembered what her door looked like, what the wall around her house looked like, and even what sorts of grass had been growing in the cracks in the wall so many years earlier. He saw that where there used to be a pair of large red iron gates, now the red paint had disappeared, revealing a grayish maroon layer of rust. There were also many rust splotches on the gates themselves, making them look as though they were not thirty years old but rather had been left behind by some dynasty more than a century earlier.

When Mingliang reached those gates, he stopped and looked at the building, the courtyard wall, and the crowds around him, who had all retreated to a reasonable distance. He confirmed that the gates were not locked but rather merely latched. With this, he realized that Zhu Ying was definitely not in the house but rather standing in the courtyard behind the gate, listening and watching the commotion outside. Then he placed one hand on the head of the stone lion to the right of the door.

A chill emanated up from the lion’s head into his hand, and he used that chill to help calm himself down. He coughed to clear his throat, then quietly said to the gate, “Zhu Ying, please open this gate. I am the mayor of Explosion, Mayor Kong.” Then, after listening carefully for a moment and seeing that there was no response, he proceeded to walk up the steps to the gate and lightly knocked.

The residents who were gathered around collectively held their breath, afraid that if they made a sound they might startle and annoy the mayor, and Zhu Ying standing inside. A sparrow flew over and dropped a feather, which fell loudly to the street like a wooden club. All of the people who had gathered there held their hands to their mouths. They looked in the direction of the feather, until the feather finally came to a rest after bouncing twice, and only then did they turn back to the finger with which Mingliang was gently knocking on the gate.

Mingliang knocked several times, and as he did he said more loudly,

“I am Mayor Kong, the mayor of Explosion!”

Then, he repeated even more loudly,

“I am your husband, Mayor Kong.”

And again, as loudly as he could,

“Is it possible that you can’t even hear the voice of your husband, the mayor?”

Someone brought Mingliang a stool, and he stood on it in front of the gate and proceeded to scream,

“Zhu Ying—I said, Zhu Ying!—it’s all right if you don’t want to open the door for me, but there is something I need to tell you in my capacity as mayor. In this morning’s vote in Beijing over whether or not Explosion should be promoted to the status of a megalopolis under the direct jurisdiction of the central government, there were four hundred
and ten ayes to eight hundred and twenty nays and abstentions. Why weren’t there eight hundred and twenty ayes and four hundred and ten nays? Why was this vote identical to that of the elections for village chief thirty years ago? I now understand that you’re trying to tell me that the two of us have rendered a meritorious service of creating this city and creating history. You’re this city’s mother and the bearer of its children, while I am the city’s father and the creator of its infrastructure. This city’s buildings, roads, airports, train stations, shopping areas, development districts, and foreign residential areas and even its handful of foreign consulates and business offices, as well as all of the city’s plants and trees, people and zoos—all of this will be inherited by your children, which is to say our descendants. Explosion now needs to be promoted to the status of a provincial-level metropolis. However, you sent three thousand girls, nannies, and students from your women’s vocational school to specific households and official posts in Beijing—so that they could use their status to snare the vote-wielding experts, professors, and academicians. But Zhu Ying, has it occurred to you that if you alter the outcome of this vote, you will be impeding Explosion’s future growth and development, while also undermining the hopes and dreams of Explosion’s twenty million residents? In this way, you will become Explosion’s criminal, don’t you know?

“… Zhu Ying, I’m begging you in my capacity as city mayor—please quickly notify your girls and ask them to tell the men they snared that, in the second round of voting that begins tomorrow morning at nine, they should vote in favor of Explosion. If you don’t notify them now, it will be too late and you’ll become Explosion’s greatest criminal. If this fails, the people of Explosion will tear you to shreds, don’t you know?

“… Zhu Ying, open this door. Open this door so that we can talk things over. For the sake of Explosion, for the sake of the people,
for the sake of the past and the future—tell me what you want, and I’ll agree to it.

“… Open this door. As the city’s mayor, I’m begging you.

“… Open this door. Although I am your husband, I am also the mayor of this city!

“… Open this door. For the sake of Explosion, for the people, and for history, open the door and I’ll kneel down to you!

“… I can kneel down before you and let you beat me, curse me, and even spit in my face!

“… For the sake of history, for the people, I won’t hesitate to take action!

“… Zhu Ying, what do you want me to do? Not only am I willing to kneel down before you, I can even have thousands of residents of Explosion kneel down before you. As long as you support Explosion’s promotion to the status of a provincial-level metropolis, I’m willing to remove any individuals you want from their current positions, and even send them to prison… .”

As dusk approached, Mingliang stood on that stool and shouted until his throat bled, to the point that all of the city’s streets were full of the smell of the blood from his throat. Moreover, because he was shouting for so long, his voice became increasingly hoarse. When it finally reached the point that he could barely produce any sound, he climbed down from the stool, knelt in front of the door to the Zhu family home, and in a deep voice said,

“Zhu Ying, I am your husband, and I have returned to you.

“… Open the door. If you open the door, you will see that not only am I kneeling here, but so are all of the residents of Explosion’s old street, together with many of the city’s other residents.”

At this point, as the old people, children, men, and women standing outside the door were kneeling with Mingliang in front of
the Zhu home, and as they were shouting, “For the sake of Explosion, for the sake of the people, please open the door so that the mayor can talk to you” until they became hoarse, and as their cries were flying through the city streets like autumn leaves, and covering Zhu Ying’s house and courtyard walls—the Zhu family gate
still
didn’t open. There was, however, a mysterious sound that emerged from inside, and everyone thought that the gate was about to open and Zhu Ying would appear in the entranceway. But, in the end, the sound disappeared, and the sound of footsteps approaching the gate once again receded into the interior of the courtyard. After this happened two or three more times, everyone began to believe that Zhu Ying would never open those gates and that she was willing to face off against Mingliang and the people of Explosion until the death. They assumed that she preferred to become Explosion’s greatest criminal rather than allow Explosion to become promoted to the status of a provincial-level metropolis, which would thereby allow Kong Mingliang to become the mayor of this new megalopolis. At this point, the sun was setting in the west and its final rays were shining down on the city and on the heads of the thousands of city residents kneeling there. Just as darkness was about to fall, a sharp burst of frustration and anger emerged from the crowd. They kept passing notes up to Mingliang and whispering in his ear, as the words “Break down the gate! Drag her out!” came gushing from the crowd like a river. Some people had begun to quietly stand up, had found some sticks and stones, and were about to break one of Zhu Ying’s windows. However, a child who was not yet ten appeared amid that crowd of kneeling people. He was thin, with a long face and a crew cut. On his book bag there was a picture of a cacao tree and an olive tree, and as he walked a trail of chocolate and olive candies fell out. He didn’t know what was happening, so he went up to Mingliang
and first looked at him as though he were a stranger, then as if he were someone he had once known, and finally he took two steps forward and said in a soft, halting voice,

“Are you my father?”

Mingliang looked at the child. Initially he was astonished, then an excited pallor came over his face, and, finally, he flushed bright red when he heard the boy trying to call him “Father!” He grabbed the child’s hand and hugged him tight. Then he put the boy on his shoulders and, under the final rays of the setting sun, he walked over toward those locked gates.

Standing in front of them, he shouted in an excited and trembling voice,

“Zhu Ying, I have returned with our son.

“… I never expected that our son would look just like me—thin, with a square face, and small dimples that appear when he talks.”

At this point, the double gates suddenly swung open.

Light from the setting sun poured through the door, illuminated Zhu Ying—who was neatly dressed and made up. She faced Kong Mingliang, who was holding their son, and stared out at the vast crowd of people who were bowing down on both sides of the street, entreating her to open the gates. First, with trembling hands she leaned against the door frame and looked at her son, who was sitting on his father’s shoulders and—like countless other children from Explosion—was wearing a backpack. Then her eyes filled with tears, as the tears drenched her face and dripped to the ground.

At this point, the people and citizens kneeling in front of the gate all stood up and began to applaud, shouting, “Explosion can now become a provincial-level metropolis! Explosion can now become a provincial-level metropolis!”

When the boy reached down from his father’s shoulders to hug his mother, the sun had not yet fully set, while the moon had
already risen. The entire city and indeed the entire world were jointly illuminated by both the sun and the moon.