The Girl from the Mountain, Part II
As Zhou Wen Qing’s story stopped last week, he had gotten up to try to find something to read because he couldn’t sleep. His story continues:
As I was looking for my school bag, I heard someone walking down the hall and the footsteps came closer and closer until they stopped at my door.
A husky voice called out, “Teacher Zhou, come out! I beg you ...”
I thought it sounded like the wife. What had happened? Why had she come to me at such an hour? I dared not open the door. I stood motionless behind the door for few minutes and I realized she had finally gone.
Then I slipped into the courtyard and I saw my hostess crying to the moon. She had very thin clothes on and was shivering with the cold. Her untidy hair was spread over her shoulders and tears were running down her cheeks. “What’s the matter?” I asked her. “They are fighting.”
I looked at their room but saw nothing, only heard some people panting heavily.
“But why?”
I put my hand on her shoulder and tried to lead her to the door.
“No, no, don’t ask me why. Don’t ask. I don’t know anything. I am but a fool.”
I went and knocked at the door.
“Who is it?” came the host’s voice.
”Me, Xiao Zhou. Please open the door.”
“No. It’s none of your business. Go back to your room.” He was severe. As I was about to leave, I heard the girl speaking to me, “Zhou, it ‘s nothing, really. Please go back. I’m sorry.” Her voice was calm but cold and weak. It seemed that it was a great effort on her part to speak to me.
“How are you? She says you are fighting. I am worried about you.”
The girl spoke again, this time a bit louder, “I’m all right. It’s only a quarrel between father and son. Go back. Don’t worry.”
Then the whole house lapsed into a dead silence. I waited there for a few moments and then crawled in bed again. It was two o’clock in the morning. I lay awake the rest of the night, and it seemed they didn’t fight again.
Getting up late in the morning, I went to the kitchen for some hot water. Only the wife and son were there. There was no sign of the father or the girl. When I asked about her, the son said she had gone back to the mountains. I saw he was almost in tears. I dared not disturb them. They boy must have been severely beaten by his father, for he was a little lame when he walked and his right cheek was swollen. But I didn’t feel sorry for him. I guessed that it was he who wanted her to leave and I couldn’t understand that. Getting a wife is not an easy thing!
After breakfast, I went to the brigade office. There was a crowd there whispering to each other. When I entered, they all turned to look at me with inquiring eyes. One of my classmates approached me and said, “Did the girl die for you?”
“Your host said last night you two ... in the kitchen … So he had to ask her to leave. But you are not responsible, she is that kind of girl. So your host said.”
He said that she seduced you and she had done the same to him.
I felt the blood rush to my temples. I couldn’t bear it! I shouted to my classmate, “Shut up! you stupid idiot. Not her, it was he who seduced her. Now I understand. I understand everything. The lecher! That son of a bitch! It is he who ruined this girl!”
The son spoke from behind me, “Yes, it was my own father. He had her in the mountains, and then brought her home and intended her for me. Both she and I disagreed with my father. I didn’t want her after I found out about their relationship. She wanted to consult you, an educated man, about her decision. My father was afraid of that. He tried to force me to sleep with her last night.”
“I am ashamed of my father. I hate myself. If I had only done it, she’d be alive now.”
He could not go on and forced his way through the crowd and ran away. I had nothing to say about her, about the boy or myself. Let the others talk. I walked out of the office and slowly directed my steps toward the riverbank. I wanted to have another look at her, even though she was dead.
In my opinion, those who lived through it will not forget the Cultural Revolution for a long time. Our good friends, Professor Jiang Ke Li and his wife were sent to separate locations in the countryside and were united only after they had worked there for ten years.
We became acquainted with the life story of the pastors in the small Christian Church where we attended. They alternated preaching on Sunday. She had been to England to prepare for the ministry. During the Cultural Revolution, the government took their church and its land away from them, and they were sent to work in a factory. In the factory were religious people of all persuasions – Buddhist, Catholic nuns, Protestants, Taoist monks. After the Cultural Revolution the city of Bei Bei granted them another piece of land for a new church.
– Mary