One night, I didn’t eat again, a guard came over and opened the small window and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”
“I don’t want to worry about my daughter. Can you bring her and let her live with me?”
“Of course not. She hasn’t committed a crime, so why should she be locked up?” She answered me.
“I haven’t committed any crime either, but aren’t I in jail too?” I said to her.
“I don’t have time to argue with you about that. Whether you committed a crime or not, I don’t know. In fact, I can’t figure out what’s a crime and what’s not a crime. But since you’re already here, you’ll just have to wait. Someone will slowly deal with your problem. You’re okay with this. See you sleep eight hours a day, and have three meals. We have to meet after work, eight hours of sleep is not enough.” She said and slammed the window door and left.
I was surprised by her demeanor. It was the first time that a guard had acted like a glutton for punishment in front of me. She must have run into some kind of trouble herself, so she was furious. The struggle within the Communist Party has led to a laxity of will among these guards. Generally, those who can be selected for such important positions as guards must have unwavering faith. However, the materials revealed by the revolutionary line at that time showed the guards that the senior cadres were no different from the general public, that these people no longer followed the great ideals of communism, and that there were even people who were interested in restoring capitalism in China. This made the guards feel, if not broken, at least disillusioned with their ideals. The guards were no longer committed to their jobs, and prison discipline was becoming chaotic. When the guards did not come out to patrol, some of the prisoners shouted and cried, while others fought and beat on the doors. One night, in a cold cell at the end of the corridor in the dark and winter, there was a sudden burst of rough hysterical laughter. Although there were guards on duty, she did not come out to interfere.
I began to observe the guards carefully, analyzing them one by one in detail. I found that many of the guards seemed to be holding their breath, while a few of the younger guards were wearing the red armbands of the rebels. These young people held an air of arrogance and went in and out with a sense of authority. They seemed to have a lot of power, and not only could they yell at the prisoners, but they also used that tone of command to some of the guards.
In 1967, the Shanghai government had fallen into a state of anarchy, and the First Detention Center was becoming less and less orderly. In the fall, the guards split into several groups and started factional disputes among themselves. When the inmates were taken out for a walk, I saw signs about factionalism posted indiscriminately along the walls and paths. In my cell, I could often hear the guards arguing loudly. Occasionally, once or twice, I heard them scuffling with each other. The main point of the argument seemed to be the understanding of the main spirit of Mao’s policy and which of the senior leaders were the “capitalist faction in power”.
Nowadays, it is common to see prison administrators and arraigners on duty in the cells, because these people are considered “intellectuals” and they are excluded from the rebellion. During the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution, all intellectuals, whether they were Party members or non-Party members, were called “stinky old niners. At that time, the so-called “Black Nine” were, in order, the landed, the rich, the anti, the bad, the right, the traitors, the spies and the capitalists, and the ninth category was the intellectuals. This included not only those who had degrees as university professors or researchers, but also teachers, technicians and white-collar workers. In Chinese writing, the word “stink” is a colloquial term for “dishonorable”. In general, intellectuals are considered to be arrogant and proud. They held a sense of superiority over their own vast knowledge, and they wanted to save face. Intellectuals were always respected in the old days. The rebels called them “stinking niners” as an insult to the intellectuals and their social status.
When the second winter in the detention center came, I once again had a bad cold. The aspirin prescribed by the young doctor did not work, and later the cold turned into pneumonia, and I had severe coughing spasms all over my body. Especially at night, the cell was as cold as a cellar, which was unbearable. One night, in order to keep myself warm, I put on two sweaters and fleece socks and curled up under the covers, but I kept coughing. It was after midnight, and the prison was deadly silent as I lay on a wooden bed in a cold cell, coughing and sneezing. To relieve the irritation in my throat, I drank some of the cold water left in the cup, but the cold water made me cough even harder. I pulled the blanket over my head to muffle the coughing and hoped to get some warmer air from under the covers. Suddenly, the small window in the door opened, unlike the heavy-handed guards of the past. Then I heard a man say softly, “Come here a minute.”
I put on my pants and put on my cotton jacket and got up from the bed, while wondering in my mind, this late at night, the man called me to do what, when I went to the small window and looked out, to my surprise, only to see the arraignment officer who had interrogated me, carrying a warm water bottle standing there.
“Do you have a cup? Bring it.” He said.
I passed the cup through the window and he poured me some hot boiling water.
I had been waiting for him for a year, waiting for him to come back to continue my arraignment. Now that I was seeing him again, it seemed like an excellent opportunity to ask him about it. While the coughing temporarily subsided a bit, I said to him, “When will you be able to figure out my problem.”
He hesitated for a moment and said, “When the rebels are ready, they will inform you. Soon, a clearer document will be issued, so be patient. Now drink this hot water, it will make you feel better. Tomorrow go and report to the doctor and they will give you some medicine.”
Hearing him say this, it seemed as if he now no longer cared about my case. I don’t know if he still thinks I’m guilty now; nor do I know if he really thought I was a criminal, in the past. It suddenly occurred to me that since he knew that a person was innocent, yet in order to accomplish his task, he insisted on describing the innocent person as guilty. In this case, he came to act as an arraigner, how creepy it is! I threw back my neck and drank all the hot water, but then there was a violent cough and I vomited.
“Never mind, it’s okay. I’ll give you some more hot water.” The guard opened the small window again. By this time, he was standing next to a man wearing large black-rimmed glasses. The guard called him “Director Liang”.
“Can I borrow a broom? I want to clean the floor.” I asked him as the coughing subsided.
“I’ll sweep tomorrow. Is the floor dirty? You didn’t spit up anything other than water, right?” Director Liang asked.
I looked at the floor, and indeed, other than water, did not spit out anything else. And the water was almost all dried up by the broken concrete. This is of course a good opportunity to let the director Liang see that the belly of the prison inmates is so empty! Except for water, there is nothing else. However, he is just a former instructor of the guardhouse. Now, the Red Guards and the rebels have demoted him to the duty guard.
They didn’t close the small window until I finished the water and left.
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