Pearl of China

  “Bring out the best wine for our boss,” Papa said.

  People started to crawl out of their sleeping boxes and climb down the ropes. Carpenter Chan and Lilac came to stand near Papa. Behind them were Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers.

  The hallway and the dining area soon became crowded.

  Papa poured wine and made sure that Vanguard and Catfish had the largest share. He poured an inch into the other glasses, but filled theirs to the top. Papa made a toast. “Let’s drink to demonstrate our loyalty to Chairman Mao!”

  Vanguard had to drink all of his wine. Papa waited until Vanguard’s glass was empty before he refilled it and toasted to Mao’s health. Glasses were emptied and refilled again. Papa’s third toast was to the victory of the Cultural Revolution. The fourth full glass and toast were for Vanguard’s continued success in leading Chin-kiang into Communism.

  When Vanguard slipped from the chair onto the floor, his face was the color of a rooster’s comb. Catfish was still awake, but Papa ignored him and changed the radio’s channel. The church filled with the sound of Voice of America.

  We listened intently.

  In Mandarin the host introduced Pearl S. Buck.

  I stopped breathing when I heard a female voice say in Chin-kiang-accented Mandarin, “Happy Chinese New Year! I am Pearl Sydenstricker Buck.”

  The first reaction was that no one could believe their ears. We all thought that it was our imagination.

  As the conversation continued, the reality sank in.

  “It’s her! It’s our Pearl!” Jumping for joy, we screamed and hugged each other.

  “Happy New Year to you too, Pearl!” Papa said. He was smiling, but tears streamed down his cheeks.

  It was as if she had never left China. Her accent hadn’t changed. Her tone was gentle and clear. She began to tell us about her life. We had little understanding of the events she was talking about, such as the Great Depression and the Vietnam War. But it didn’t matter. We were gathered to hear her voice. The fact that she was alive filled me with happiness.

  Pearl talked about her books, including her translation of All Men Are Brothers. She mentioned that The Good Earth had been made into an American movie. “Although it’s a wonderful movie,” she said, “I am afraid that you wouldn’t like it, because all the Chinese characters are played by Western actors. They all have high noses and speak English.” She said that she lived in Pennsylvania and had adopted eight children, most of them of Asian descent.

  We wept when Pearl said that she wanted to visit China.

  “The details of my youth have become more and more clear to me as I have aged.” We could hear that Pearl’s voice was full of emotion. “When I close my eyes, I see Chin-kiang’s hills and fields at dawn and dusk, in sunshine and in moonlight, in summer green and winter snow.” She said she missed the Chinese New Year’s celebration the most. “I would be having a banquet with my friends right now if I were among them. As we all know, to be Chinese means one lives to eat.”

  The host asked Pearl to describe a typical scene in Chin-kiang for the world’s listeners.

  She paused for a moment and then replied, “A typical scene would be the mist over the big pond under the weeping willows. There would be frail clouds in the sky, and the water would shine silver. Against this background, I would see a great white heron standing on one stalk of a leg.”

  I let my tears flow as I imagined the smile on my friend’s face.

  Pearl went on. “My American friends often praise Chinese artists for their vivid imaginations, but no, let me tell you, the artist only puts down what he sees. I grew up and spent forty years of my life enjoying such scenery. It is the China I know and the China I continue to live in within my mind.”

  Catfish grew terrified as he listened. He was not drunk and was aware of the consequences. He slapped Vanguard’s face and splashed water over him. “Boss! Wake up! We must go!”

  Like a pile of wet mud, Vanguard did not move.

  “We are trapped!” Catfish became hysterical. He turned to Papa and threatened, “I’m going to report this!”

  “Go ahead!” Papa said. “Don’t forget to mention that Vanguard supported us and that is why he was here with us. He was so excited to listen to Voice of America and Pearl Buck that he got drunk to celebrate. Everyone in this building saw him do it.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Although Vanguard confiscated Papa’s radio, he lost his position. He was replaced by Carpenter Chan, who was appointed the new Communist Party secretary of Chin-kiang. Carpenter Chan didn’t want the job, but Papa convinced him to accept the position. Papa believed that God’s work needed information and intelligence. “I’d appreciate it if you could get me the monthly Communist Party newsletter, the Internal Reference.”

  Papa’s wisdom paid off. The Internal Reference forecast the changes in China’s political weather. Papa devoured every issue. He analyzed and looked for traces of change, especially in Mao’s attitude toward the United States.

  In July 1971, Papa noticed a stamp-sized announcement that Mao was to receive a special guest from America, a man named Henry Kissinger.

  “Mao’s pot is cooking!” Papa said to Carpenter Chan.

  Three months later Papa learned that China had been accepted as a member of the United Nations.

  “A deal is in the works,” Papa predicted.

  Papa and Chan became the first in town to figure out that America’s President Nixon was about to visit China. Through the Internal Reference, Papa and Carpenter Chan also learned that there were two powerful factions within China’s Communist Party. One was called the Wife Party, Madame Mao’s faction, which Mao trusted to carry on his Cultural Revolution. The other was the Premier Party, led by Premier Chou En-lai, which Mao trusted to manage the country. Both factions competed for Mao’s favor.

  The battle between the two intensified when Nixon’s visit was announced publicly. A group of investigators came to Chin-kiang. We had no idea that it had to do with the fact that Nixon had selected Pearl Buck to accompany him to China. It was only later that we learned the momentous news.

  By candlelight Papa conducted discussions with his guerrilla-church members. “The world’s attention will be focused on Nixon when he comes,” Papa said, his eyes glowing and every wrinkle dancing. “Imagine, our Pearl introducing Nixon to Mao in perfect Mandarin and Mao to Nixon in American English!”

  The question seemed to be: Would Madame Mao let it happen? Would she stand for another woman taking over the role she believed she was entitled to?

  “Hundreds of cameras will be clicking and flashing,” Papa continued.

  “Madame Mao will be jealous of Pearl standing between Mao and Nixon.”

  “There is another possibility,” Carpenter Chan said. “Mao might show interest in Pearl, like he did with the wife of Philippine president Marcos. I saw the documentary in which Mao kissed the lady’s hand.”

  I wouldn’t be surprised if Mao was charmed by the blue-eyed Pearl. I imagined Pearl dressed up. She would look like Carie, beautiful and elegant. Mao would ask questions in his native Hunanese, and Pearl would answer in the same tune. As far as I knew, Pearl was fluent in many Chinese dialects besides Mandarin. It would only be natural for Mao to extend an invitation to Pearl to visit him in private, as he had with so many famous Chinese actresses, poets, and novelists.

  “Perhaps Mao will offer Pearl a personal tour of the Forbidden City,”

  Papa imagined. “I can see the two strolling together down the Imperial Long Corridor, where the Last Empress, Tsu Hsi, walked every day after dinner. Mao would share his knowledge of Chinese history.”

  “Mao might suggest visiting the Great Wall,” Carpenter Chan added. “He and Pearl would be carried by the palanquin bearers.”

  Lilac nodded. “Certainly Mao would propose dinner at the Imperial Summer Palace.”

  “Yes,” Papa agreed. “The dishes would be given names after Mao’s poems. Crabs with ginger and wine would be ca
lled Taking Down the Capital Nanking. Roasted duck with wheat pancakes would be called Autumn Uprising Triumph.”

  “Hot red pepper with fried frog legs would be called The Birth of the People’s Republic.” Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers drooled.

  The pictures continued to scroll through my mind. Pearl might win Mao’s heart if she presented to him her translation of All Men Are Brothers, a favorite of Mao’s. He would assume that Pearl shared his passion for the peasant heroes.

  I could hear Mao call Pearl “My comrade!” Mao would forget his age, his toothaches, his sore eyes and stiff joints. He would take Pearl’s hand and tell her that it was All Men Are Brothers that had inspired him to become a revolutionary. To earn her affection, he would want Pearl to know how he became the modern emperor of China. He would expect her to share the story with Nixon.

  “People, only the people, are the creators of history.” Carpenter Chan mimicked Mao’s famous quotation. “Pearl would be flattered.”

  “I don’t think so,” Lilac disagreed. “Pearl wouldn’t like Mao at all.”

  “Pearl is lucky that Mao still hasn’t read The Good Earth,” I said. “If he had, he would know that Pearl will never be his comrade. Nothing Mao says or does will change Pearl’s view. And I believe that Pearl would disappoint Mao as well. Mao would discover that although Pearl spoke his language and knew his culture, she could never worship him like the rest of China. Pearl would see his flaws. She could be Mao’s nightmare.”

  “We’ll see,” Papa said. “Wine might bring alive the poet in Mao. He could pick up a brush pen and write Pearl a calligraphy couplet as a gift. Pearl might demonstrate her appreciation by recognizing the rhythm in which Mao composed, and she would sound out the phrases in ancient Chinese.”

  “Mao would ask Pearl to stay for late-night tea,” said Bumpkin Emperor, nodding.

  “Pearl would refuse,” Rouge said. “And she would say, ‘President Nixon is waiting for me.’”

  “The rejection would be worse than Nixon dropping a nuclear bomb on China,” everyone agreed.

  The town of Chin-kiang was to be given a task of national importance. As the party boss, Carpenter Chan started to receive messages from his superiors. The first was from Premier Chou En-lai, instructing him to prepare for Pearl Buck’s homecoming.

  “Get ready to show the town to America’s President Nixon,” the message read.

  The second message contradicted the first. It ordered the town to cooperate with Madame Mao’s investigators. “It is time to reveal Pearl Buck and her parents’ crimes against China and the Chinese people,” that message read.

  Believing that it would be an opportunity to get back on top, Vanguard exposed the underground Christian church. “Absalom’s ghost is not only alive but active in turning people against Mao and Communism,” he claimed.

  The Communist newspaper, the People’s Daily, published an article titled “The Nobel Prize Winner Makes Her Living Insulting China.” Carpenter Chan told us that Madame Mao had barred Chin-kiang from receiving the American guests.

  Secretly, Carpenter Chan took back the confiscated radio. He and Papa tuned in to Voice of America for the latest news. Between the lines, they learned that Nixon’s delegation would depart from the United States for China in a week, and that the Chinese authorities had refused Pearl Buck entrance.

  Carpenter Chan composed a petition signed by everyone in town and sent it to Premier Chou En-lai.

  “Pearl Buck grew up in Chin-kiang,” the petition pleaded. “It is her right to visit her mother’s grave and our duty as her neighbors and friends to see her wish granted.”

  Never before had the entire town been united in one common goal. It was not Pearl Buck’s visit that we were fighting for, but our own lives and our children’s future. Since the beginning of the Cultural Revolution, those whose paths had crossed Absalom’s and Carie’s had been denounced and made to suffer. The major events had happened years ago, but our memories were still fresh. Some people had been affected more directly than others, but all had stories to tell. I remembered that the teenage mob that called itself Mao’s Red Guard had even come to Beijing to “clear Pearl Buck’s evil influence.” They knew that I had delivered letters to Pearl from Hsu Chih-mo. They took me out of the prison to attend a public rally, where the teens hung a wooden board around my neck that read, pimp. The crowd demanded that I confess Hsu Chih-mo and Pearl Buck’s relationship. Pearl’s former students were terrorized. They were forced to inform on me. One pointed out to the crowd that I was Pearl’s best friend and Carie’s adopted daughter. Other students recalled that I was the one who had tried to steal Hsu Chih-mo from Pearl Buck.

  The Red Guard located Absalom’s grave near Chin-kiang and vandalized it. They smashed the stone-carving tablet honoring Absalom’s lifelong service to God. The Red Guard also sought Carie’s grave. It was Lilac who removed the tombstone to a different location. The grave the Red Guard destroyed was not Carie’s.

  Lilac’s sons were ordered to change names. Double Luck David and John were now Down with Christ and War on God. Triple Luck Solomon’s new name was Mao’s Loyalist.

  When the Red Guard ordered Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers to smash a ceramic figure of Christ, the former warlords exploded. They took the anti-Christ boards off their necks and smashed them instead. When they were locked up, they escaped into the mountains.

  Papa took the risk of protecting Absalom’s hand-drawn pictures of Jesus Christ. He hid them behind the wall-sized portrait of Mao. When Carpenter Chan and his workmen learned that the Red Guard had decided to burn the church, they transformed the church into an “Education Museum” in which Mao’s head was painted on every surface. The sculptures of Christ and the saints were boxed and caged and captioned “The Negative Teachers.” The boxes were put on display for criticism. To prevent the sculptures from being defiled, the workmen wrapped them in red ribbons with slogans like “Long Live Chairman Mao!” and “Salute to Madame Mao!” written on them.

  What pained Papa the most was when members withdrew from the congregation. Although Papa understood that people did it under pressure and out of fear, he couldn’t help feeling defeated. He threatened people with “going to hell,” although he was appalled by their response: “Hell will be a better place than where we are.”

  For years Chin-kiang was considered an area severely infected by a “Christian plague.” It was decided that the town needed a deep cleaning. Although Vanguard set himself as an example for denouncing Christianity, few followed him. People called Vanguard “the Chin-kiang Judas.” The police discovered that Bibles were hidden inside the covers of Mao’s books and clay figures of Christ were hidden inside rice bags. Christmas songs were heard during the Chinese New Year, and flowers by Carie’s grave never failed to blossom in spring. Children who woke up in the middle of the night to relieve themselves would find themselves tripping over their parents, on their knees praying in the dark. Despite his age, Papa made his rounds rain or shine when there was no place safe to worship God.

  Age finally took its toll on Papa. He collapsed one day as he went from house to house, visiting members of his congregation. Rouge and I rushed to his side. When he woke up, he told me that he had met Absalom.

  “Old Teacher still rode his donkey,” Papa said.

  “Did you ask him if he was pleased with your work?” I asked, teasing.

  “I did.”

  “What was the reply?” Rouge was curious.

  Papa took a few deep breaths before he answered, “Absalom cried, which was rather out of character. It was about Pearl.”

  “Pearl?”

  “Absalom regretted that he never got the time to be a good father to Pearl.”

  “What was your response?” both Rouge and I asked.

  “I told him that he should be proud, because she carried on his work—that we all heard her on Voice of America.”

  A week later, Papa stopped breathing. Like a ripe melon, Papa hung happily
on his vine before dropping to the ground. He went to sit under the tree outside the converted church building and looked like he had just fallen asleep with his chin on his chest.

  PART FIVE

  CHAPTER 33

  Overnight, the “Down with American Imperialists” slogans were replaced with “Welcome American President Nixon.” Mannequins dressed in U.S. Army uniforms for military bayonet practice at schools nationwide were removed. Children were instructed to learn the English phrases “Welcome” and “How do you do?”

  The day Nixon arrived in China, children filled the streets from the airport to the hotel where the president would stay. Each child was given paper flowers and instructed to smile with their teeth showing.

  Carpenter Chan received an urgent dispatch that Nixon was to visit Chin-kiang, and that Pearl Buck was with him.

  The town vibrated with anticipation.

  I so wished that Papa could have lived to see this day. It would have thrilled him to greet the American president—but even more, the daughter of his beloved Absalom.

  The guerrilla-church members counted the hours and then the minutes. In the morning, state police came to secure the town. Everyone was ordered to stay inside until called. While the men exchanged news and information, the women began to prepare Pearl’s favorite foods. Every family contributed. We soaked rice and soybeans, steamed bread and yams, and brought out all the pickled radishes and dried meats, which were usually saved for New Year’s. The sound of chopping vegetables lasted all day, and the smell of roasting garlic peanuts filled the air. “Pearl will smell our cooking miles away when she arrives,” Lilac said.

  When I heard the sound of drums and the music of China’s national anthem, I knew the American guests were here. I rinsed my hands, combed my hair, and slipped on my blue Mao jacket. Rouge wanted to join me but her boss wouldn’t give her permission. As Dick’s daughter, she was ill-treated.