Wild Ginger

Wild Ginger by Anchee Min Page B

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Authors: Anchee Min
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front of my eyes.
    "I've been doing fine," I said dryly.
    "Have you been with Wild Ginger lately?"
    I went silent.
    "I am sure you have," he concluded. "You are each other's shadows. Did she ... does she confide in you?"
    "Sort of."
    "Did she tell you anything ... about me?"
    "I don't know. I ... am not sure ... Well, I don't think so."
    "I need a favor, Maple," he said.
    "I am listening."
    "It might not make sense to you, but I am experiencing something I'd like to try to share with you. Well, are you ready? Chairman Mao ... All right, are you with me? Let me know if I lose you—"
    "I am not sure if I want to hear it, Evergreen."
    "I'll make it short. Very short. Gee, this is not easy. The Chairman teaches us to be selfless. But I am discovering the self, myself really, as a human being. For the first time, I've started to see things through my own eyes instead of Chairman Mao's ... It's devastating. My whole world is upside down now ... It's puzzling to you, isn't it?"
    "Well, when did you start to change? What happened?"
    "The moment you brought Wild Ginger to me. I have discovered something more meaningful than preaching Maoism, something more satisfactory to my nature. Do you know how difficult it is for me to bring this up?"
    "You aren't talking about abandoning Maoism, are you?"
    "Indeed, that might be exactly the question."
    "And it is a very dangerous one too."
    "But no, it's not the issue of safety. I know I can trust you. I do trust you—it doesn't make sense but it's true that I feel I can trust you more than I can trust Wild Ginger. It might sound strange. She is a Mao zealot. Her loyalty is beyond reproach. Her eyes see only what's red. You are different. Your eyes reflect the rainbow. Now the risky part is, wait a minute, what do people do with the brain's waste?"
    "What do you mean?"
    "Give it a try. Your mind is always a step ahead of mine."
    "I could have said something else."
    "No, I appreciated your frankness." He paused for a while. His hands went into his pockets as if they were cold. Suddenly he asked, "What's Wild Ginger's decision? Can she ... does she want to ... I mean, does she feel the same way I do?"
    My mind struggled. I had the answer but I didn't know how to give it. I couldn't say, Yes, Wild Ginger is attracted to you, but you are not worthy enough for her to break her vow to Chairman Mao.
    "I'm not in any position to judge my friend," I finally uttered.
    "Do you know that she showed me her diary?" He began walking.
    "No." I followed him.
    "Do you know she carries a diary?"
    I made no reply because I couldn't say, It's a fake diary.
    "We're"—he lowered his voice—"we are in each
other's lives at the moment. But I am puzzled by the way she acts."
    "Are you or are you not in the diary?" I asked.
    "No, I am not."
    "It doesn't mean that you are not in her thoughts."
    "Thank you. That's what I have been trying to tell myself."
    "The diary"—I don't know why I suddenly decided to blow this—"is for show. It's going to be published nationwide and printed in textbooks."
    "Then why the hell does she write it and call it a diary?"
    "She is the Maoist model for the country. She has to do what's expected of a Maoist."
    "This really bothers me. Maple, let me tell you something. There is a wonderful part of her character and there is also a phony part. This is what we have been fighting: she wants no other life besides promoting Maoism. Her instincts might want what a human being wants but not her head. She's trying to kill off her human self."
    "Well, you must understand that it is not easy to give up one's personal life for a national cause."
    "National cause? Are you sincere, Maple?"
    I found my defense weak—what bothered Evergreen bothered me too.
    "I am not interested in teaching the zoo dancing at all, to tell you the truth."
    "Aren't you supposed to say Zhong dancing?"
    "I did it on purpose. To me it
is
zoo dancing—every
one has been forced into a barn. People have better things to do,

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