Wild Ginger by Anchee Min Read Free Book Online

four hundred and eleven, paragraph one, 'The American imperialism is a paper tiger..."' Wild Ginger woke me up at midnight reciting Mao loudly in her dreams.

7
    The noise of cicadas pierced the noon heat. I sat in the classroom and worried about Wild Ginger. She was absent. I decided to pay her a visit after school. I thought she probably was caught up in the preparation for the Mao Quotation-Citing Contest.
    I passed Chia Chia Lane and saw that Wild Ginger's door was wide open. To my surprise, I saw that Mrs. Pei's plants were crushed and lay scattered around the yard. Strangers were coming in and out of the house. A group of men carried things out—woks, pillows, kitchenware, and toilet paper. They loaded the goods in tricycles and then rode away. I drew near. I didn't recognize these people. They had Red Guard armbands and spoke Mandarin with a northern accent. "Get out of the way!" One of them yelled at me. I moved to the side and saw my neighbor One-Eye Grandpa, a retired veteran, standing by the corner watching. He was eighty-one years old. His left eye
had been poked out by a Japanese bayonet during the war. He usually did nothing but walk around the neighborhood all day.
    "What's going on, Grandpa?" I went up to him.
    "Don't get involved, child."
    "I'm Wild Ginger's friend."
    "Oh, Wild Ginger. Poor girl.
Zuonieya!
Buddha above, may your eyes open."
    "I need to know what's going on, Grandpa. I beg you to tell me. A long life to you. May Chairman Mao grant you good luck."
    "Does it matter? I'm tired of living, tired of seeing anyway," he murmured. "There was a letter from France addressed to Mrs. Pei but it got caught by the post office. They turned it over to the authorities. Next thing Mrs. Pei got arrested. She was escorted to the detention house."
    "What's the letter about?"
    "Who knows! I'm sure Mrs. Pei didn't even get to read it. I would guess it's from the grandparents. It's only natural that they wonder about their granddaughter."
    "Where is Wild Ginger?"
    "I haven't seen her. She's probably hiding somewhere. She fought with these strangers until she was pushed out."
    "Who are these people?"
    "Hooligans in Mao jackets!"
    "Where are they from?"
    "I have no idea. What I can tell you is that it's the fourth bunch. The first bunch was sent by the local authority. They took the books, letters, and photo albums. The second bunch came from the opera house. They took clothes and furniture. The third bunch was from the outer province. They took food, coal, and blankets. Now it's everybody's land."
    It wasn't until evening that I saw a big, snakelike creature sitting in the crook of the fig tree. It was my friend. "Wild Ginger!" I cried out.
    She didn't answer me. Her head was hidden in leaves.
    "Wild Ginger, what are you doing up there?"
    "Waiting for my mother."
    "Have you ... have you eaten?"
    "I am not hungry."
    "Get down. Come with me to my house."
    "Leave me alone."
    "Come on. You don't want me to come up and get you, do you? You know I am a poor climber."
    Finally she began to climb down but she had no strength.
    "Wild Ginger!"
    "I'll be fine, Maple," she uttered.
    I stretched out my arms to help her.
    "I am dizzy, Maple. My head ... Damn." Before she finished her sentence her body slid down like a soft noodle. She passed out in my arms. I held her with all my might and pushed her up against the tree trunk. Turning around I squatted down. I let her fall on my back. Slowly, I stood up and started walking toward my house.
    "Buddha above, may your eyes open!" One-Eye Grandpa sighed loudly behind me.

    Wild Ginger woke. She was lying on the floor—our family bed. My mother offered her a cup of water while my sisters wiped her limbs with hot towels.
    Wild Ginger tried to sit up, but Mother stopped her. "You're too weak. Go back to sleep if you can."
    "I can't."
    "Well, child, you have to. Your mother would demand it. I am treating you as I would Maple."
    Wild Ginger lay back down.
    "Maple"—Mother passed me a