As the weather grew warmer in the spring of 1973, the power in our building kept going out. The second time this happened on a hot afternoon, I left our apartment to see if I could find someplace cooler. As I walked down the stairs, Comrade Li greeted me from the landing.
“How are you today, Ling?” he said with his monkey grin.
“Hello, Comrade Li.” Since Mother was not with me, I decided it would be all right to talk to him. “I’m so hot! The electricity is out again. Without the fan, my heat rash itches me to death.”
“You need to grow outside your greenhouse, little flower!” He scratched his neck. “We must endure small pains and hardships to build a new China.”
I wanted to tell him that my heat rash was not a small pain, but Mother had taught me that it was not polite to talk back to adults.
“The electricity saved is used to make more iron and steel for the Revolution.” He waved his hand like a magician. “Soon we will be the next superpower!”
“What’s a superpower?” I asked.
He laughed loudly. “A mighty nation that has everything we need, especially electricity!”
“Really?” I asked.
I was about to ask how soon we could be a superpower, when he said, “We can’t have our little flower drooping, can we? I will see what we can do to speed up our Revolution.”
I gave him my nice smile and thanked him. I couldn’t wait to have electricity again in our apartment.
By now, my English had improved and I knew how to write and say many short sentences. I had been cutting out pictures of animals, people, houses, food, and flowers from Father’s old magazines. I pasted them onto paper to make little books.
One night as Father listened to Voice of America, I read my little book A Story About a Happy Girl.
A girl lives near the Golden Gate Bridge.
She wears a pretty red dress.
She has curly brown hair.
She has big eyes.
She likes to eat ice cream.
She plays with her dog on the green lawn.
KNOCK! KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.
It was the secret code I shared with Comrade Li.
As I ran to the door that separated our living room from his home, Father snapped off the radio.
The upper part of the brown wood door had a smaller door cut into it. We could unlock it using a latch on our side. While I opened the little door, Father slid his medical journal under his chair and picked up a newspaper.
A few months ago Comrade Li had lightly rapped on the door and gave me a folded paper swan. He asked for an apple in return. And that was how we started our “buying and selling” game.
Now whenever he needed a few eggs, green onions,
cooking oil, or a needle and thread, he knocked on the little door. I gave him what he asked for, and he paid me with origami.
“Hello.” I stood on my toes. “What would you like to buy today?”
“Some eggs and a few green onions. How much do I owe you?” He spoke in Mandarin, blurred with a northern countryside accent. Comrade Li had magic hands. He could fold paper into anything—flowers, boats, birds, and even a bucket with two handles. He also knew magic tricks, like how to make a ten-fen coin disappear or turn into one fen.
“One bird, please!” I showed him my index finger. Sometimes I wished he would pay me with something besides origami. I already had a basketful. But I did not dare tell him that. Mother would be upset with me.
“Right away!” He blinked his tiny, black sesame seed eyes.
Standing on tiptoe, I peeked through the open door as Comrade Li went to the round table in the middle of his room. The table and its straight-backed chair were always covered with piles of posters, letters, rolls of paper, dozens of brushes, and bottles of
red and black ink. He picked up a piece of white paper and came back.
“Keep your eyes open, so you can see the bird grow.” His laugh sounded like a happy goose.
Comrade Li creased the paper to make a triangle and then brought up one corner to make the bird’s neck. Flip! Flip! Flip! And all at once, he was holding a lively bird.
“Hold it tight so it won’t fly away!” He handed it to me. It had a long beak and big wings.
“I will be right back.” Holding the bird with both hands, I skipped to my room next to the kitchen and set it in the basket.
As I dashed around the corner to the kitchen, I almost bumped into Mother. She was carrying a crystal plate piled with mango slices. I started to reach for a slice of sweet-smelling mango when Mother said in her low, firm voice, “Don’t run like that. Be a lady.”
I pulled my hand back, hoping Comrade Li hadn’t heard Mother scolding me. How could anyone like me if they heard my mother scold me all the time?
Mother set the tray on the dinner table and followed me to the kitchen. I was surprised to see her
yellow rubber gloves floating in the soapy water in the sink. She must have taken them off in a hurry. She would have yelled at me if I’d left them there.
“I’ll get the eggs.” Mother bent over and snatched two eggs with one hand from a half-full bamboo basket. Small beads of sweat on her forehead shone in the kitchen lights.
I grabbed a few green onions from a vegetable basket on the counter. With my other hand, I reached down and picked up another egg. Last time, when I sold Comrade Li two eggs, he said he needed one more to make a meal.
Mother reached over to support the egg I was holding.
I wriggled out of her reach. I didn’t want Comrade Li to think I wasn’t even old enough to carry one small egg!
Mother gave me the squinty eye. I pretended not to see it.
When Mother and I came out of the kitchen, Comrade Li had stretched his head through the little door into our living room, like a turtle coming out of its shell. Father didn’t seem to notice Comrade Li. He
tapped the fingers of his left hand gently on the arm of his chair, keeping his newspaper folded in half and close to his face.
When he saw Mother and me, Comrade Li drew his head back into his apartment.
Standing on tiptoe, I passed the egg through the door and peered again into his apartment. It smelled of garlic and ink. A bed stood against the white wall across the room. The wall above was covered with photos. On one end of his bed sat a green blanket, folded neatly into a square like a giant green mung bean cookie. His blue cap sat on top. Comrade Li had told me that in the army everyone could make his bed in less than three minutes.
Being in the army must have given him lots of friends. The wooden door between our homes couldn’t block out the loud conversations he had with his many visitors. He told them about his life in the army and the important people who stood beside him in his photos. He bragged the most about a large picture hanging in the center, a place of honor.
He had once proudly pointed it out to me and Mother. “This is Comrade Jiang Qing, the wife of our great leader, Chairman Mao.”
In the picture, Comrade Li and five other men stood around a small woman. They were all dressed in Mao-style blue army uniforms and wore caps with short visors. The woman had her hair cut above her ears. Even from my side of the door, I saw her fierce eyes behind the glasses. They made me think about a hungry ghost in one of my books.
Now Mother passed Comrade Li the other eggs and the green onions. “You haven’t had dinner yet?” Her voice had the same tone she used when scolding me, but she wore her smile for visitors.
“Not yet, Dr. Xiong.” Everyone used Mother’s maiden name. I guess it would be too confusing to have two Dr. Changs in one family. “We had to get ready to arrest an undercover enemy.” He cocked his head like a proud rooster.
“What’s an undercover enemy?” I asked.
Mother pinched me on the back of the arm. Ow! Comrade Li glanced at Father, then leaned forward. His tiny eyes glared into mine. “Someone who seems to be nice but works to destroy our government,” he whispered.
Why would anyone want to destroy our government?
I wished to ask what he would do after he arrested the enemy, but I didn’t want to risk getting another pinch.
“Do you need anything else?” asked Mother, the smile on her face disappearing.
Comrade Li stretched his head out again. Mother pulled me to the side. He glanced around, then fixed his eyes on our dinner table.
“Some young revolutionaries are coming here tonight. They would enjoy the mangoes.” He pointed his chin toward the table and smiled, showing off his tobacco-stained buckteeth.
Without a word, Mother went to the table and carried the plate over.
I was too shocked to cry out. I loved mangoes! They were so expensive, and it had been a long time since we’d had them. If only Mother had hidden the mangoes, the way she hid the chocolate and coffee from him.
Comrade Li took the plate from Mother and carried it to the table in the middle of his room. As he walked back to the little door, he pressed his hand to his scalp, flattening a few greasy hairs that stood up
on his monkey head. “Oh, come closer, Ling. There’s something in your ear.” He reached his arm out.
I stepped forward and held my breath as his greasy sleeve passed by my cheek. He plucked something from behind my ear.
“This is for you!”
He held a small red paper bag. My mouth fell open. This was the first time he had given me anything other than origami.
Inside was a portrait of Chairman Mao on a palm-sized metal button. Chairman Mao wore the same blue army jacket as Comrade Li. I had never seen a button like this one.
“Thank you! Thank you!” I jumped up and down. It almost made up for losing dessert.
Mother gave me a stern look.
All summer the children in the courtyard were showing off their button collections. I couldn’t wait to trade this one for the ceramic button of Chairman Mao holding an umbrella. Maybe from now on, Comrade Li would always pay me with Mao’s buttons instead of origami.
“It’s a new release. The whole hospital got only
ten. Put it on your shirt.” Comrade Li stuck out his chest. He had the same button pinned on the right side of his shirt.
“Ling will put it on after her shower. Good-bye.” Mother took the button away from me. With one hand behind my neck, she firmly moved me away from him. I worried that Comrade Li could hear the upset in her voice. Mother closed the door and hooked the latch. She turned toward Father and wrinkled her face as if she had just eaten a moldy peanut.
Father quickly crossed the room. “You did fine.” He patted her shoulder. “Hopefully the mangoes will keep him busy for the night.” Father wrapped his arms around her.
I thought my parents did not like Comrade Li because he bought things from us. I was wrong.