The door at the other end of the corridor rattled, then a sound of leather boots in the aisle from far away, while the sound of a small window opening and closing, while someone yelled: “How are you?” “Have you explained?” and “Have you explained all your problems?” The sound of reproachful questions. The sound of heavy footsteps was getting closer and closer. I was very nervous because I had a feeling that I was going to be in trouble again. Sure enough, the footsteps stopped outside my cell door, the small window was pushed, there was a rustle of paper, and then a male guard said, “That’s her.”
“Come here!” The guard’s voice was even more vicious than usual, perhaps to please the cadre of the military control committee.
Through the small open window, all I could see was a pair of black leather boots and the bottom half of an Air Force uniform. Even if I did not see his face, in my brain screen, I immediately reflected an image of a “face full of flesh”. The Chinese believe that a person’s attitude in life can be inferred from his face. Therefore, a bad guy is bound to be born with a pair of annoying “full of flesh”. For some reason, thinking about it gave me courage. I immediately felt that no matter what he said to me, I could deal with him.
“Why don’t you explain?” It was the voice of the megaphone.
“I have not committed a crime, how can I explain?” I replied.
“Nonsense, you are an imperialist agent. Do you want to eat ‘peanuts’?”
“I’m waiting for the new leader of the detention center to make a factual examination of my case. If I am confirmed as innocent, I can be released.”
“You are daydreaming! Don’t treat us like fools. You will never be released until you give an explanation. Did you hear what happened to those who refused to give an explanation? They’re dead!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, “Dead! Did you hear that?” Then he said something to the guard, who took out a set of keys and opened the door.
“Come out!” The guard barked at me.
I stepped out of the cell, not knowing what the guy in the Air Force uniform was going to do to me. By this time, he was already walking down the corridor toward the canal entrance, and I followed him, not having taken two or three steps, when I heard a dull thud overhead, followed by a commotion. Several people shouted, “Report! Report!” Someone else shouted, “Come on, she’s bleeding!”
At the same time, at the other end of the tunnel, there was a low, hysterical, demented laughter, which gradually became more and more prolonged, and then became a cry that pierced the eardrums. The dark light cast a heavy shadow on the tunnel, and all the signs showed a vicious and ominous atmosphere. The guy who was walking ahead of me made a sharp stop, pushed me into the cell, locked the door, and rushed upstairs.
Upstairs in the cell, there was a flurry of busy footsteps from the guards. “Bring her out!” The man in the air force uniform bellowed upstairs, “How dare you threaten the dictatorship of the proletariat with suicide! Do you think you can escape accountability by banging your head on a concrete toilet? Your act itself proves your guilt, and we will punish you severely.”
There was the sound of a young woman sobbing and the sound of footsteps moving back and forth, followed by the dead silence.
After a while, the female guard ordered everyone to sleep. When she came over to me, she said, “Why are you still standing here?”
“I’m waiting for interrogation.” I said.
“No more interrogation, go to sleep.” She said.
It seemed as if the commotion upstairs had made them forget about me. I think if it hadn’t been for the incident with the young woman, I wonder how they would have planned to deal with me. The young woman’s approach is not enough to teach, it does not help. But the reason she did this is that the radio speech was so desperate! In fact, in the First Detention Center, suicide attempts rarely work out. The only one who succeeded was a young and promising surgeon, Dr. Song, the son of a vice mayor of Shanghai. I heard that he desperately sharpened the handle of his toothbrush on the concrete floor and then used it to cut his own artery. After Mao’s death, it was revealed that it was the rebel faction that threw the young doctor into prison for persecution, in order to make him expose his father.
The next day, it was half a day after breakfast time before the food was given out. It was still dry rice and boiled vegetables. In the afternoon, a piece of white boiled yam was pushed through a hole in the small window. For several days after that, it was alternating between slices of moldy yams cooked in plain water and boiled yams. This was too much for me to swallow and digest, so in those days I ate only one dry meal a day in the morning. After some time, I was in a state of hunger day and night. Hunger is no longer a feeling for me, but a real empty stomach. My muscles were slowly depleting, my eyesight was fading, and I felt overwhelmed by even the simplest activities, such as washing clothes.
Some guards disappeared, and the new ones all wore the red armbands of the rebels. Early in the morning, at noon and in the evening, I could always hear them chanting, “Long live the Great Leader, Chairman Mao!” And singing quotations songs. In the newspaper, a new system was introduced that the Chinese people had to implement, called “morning request, afternoon inspection, and evening report,” requiring everyone to respectfully perform this ritual in front of Mao’s statue. The “morning request” is to read the chapter of Mao’s quotations, the “afternoon inspection” is to reread the quotations, and the “evening report” is still to read the book. In a word, Chinese people must have three daily rituals of reading Chairman Mao’s quotations. There was also a newspaper article discussing whether it was necessary to do the same on Sundays, for example, when one is at home. The conclusion was that it is necessary to insist on “the same thing in front of and behind people”, even if one is sick in bed, one cannot be lazy. Fortunately, such foolish rituals were the privilege of the revolutionary masses, and were not permitted for our “class enemies” in prison.
After the army took control, discipline was restored in the prisons. The guards no longer engaged in big debates and armed fights among themselves. They came to work on time, but at the same time they seemed to be very cold to each other and seemed to be wary of each other. They no longer talked to each other as they used to. If a guard is alone with the prisoners, it seems more relaxed. But when two guards were on duty together, although it appeared as if they were both guarding the prisoners, each was actually suspicious of the other and whether he or she would report his or her performance to the MC.
In addition to the change in meal times, a new work schedule was also established for the prisoners. Every morning, all inmates had to listen to the news broadcast. We were often lectured over the loudspeaker, and the list of prisoners who had been dealt with “leniently” or “strictly” was read out to motivate our class to give an explanation. Whenever the PA was turned on, the guards would scurry from cell to cell to check if they were all listening.
Outside my door was a loudspeaker, the harsh noise would be deafening. Because the guards were watching, I couldn’t plug my ears with my hands. So on Sunday, I borrowed a pair of scissors from the guard and cut up a small piece of cloth and folded it to make two small balls for earplugs. So, even if it doesn’t work very well, at least it’s not too uncomfortable anymore.
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