A Notorious Prick
Trigger Warning: mention of imprisonment, abduction, threatened execution
In 1975, under the collective labor system in China, Ritang Village launched the “Learn from Dazhai in Agriculture” movement. The plan was to establish a sugarcane plantation 30 kilometers away, requiring labor from nearby villages. Amid the later stages of the Cultural Revolution, the Revolutionary Committee would single out individuals, like former landlords and wealthy farmers, for public criticism on stage to serve as a deterrent and example.
One noon, after hours of collective labor, 19-year-old Yao came back to a heart-wrenching scene at home. His mother was huddled in the corner of the bed, her body quivering. She was constantly dabbing at her tear-streaked cheeks with one hand, while the other gripped the edge of her clothing in a tight, desperate hold.
Upon discovering the cause, a fierce rage ignited within Yao. The audacity of those who dared to torment his mother! Did they not know his mettle? He remembered being five years old, famished while herding cattle with his father, saying, “Dad, I’m so hungry.” With no other recourse, his father had surreptitiously unearthed sweet potatoes from a nearby field. But a watchful villager saw and denounced them to the militia. His father faced imprisonment. Pleading to return after herding the cattle, he instead fled under the cover of night. His family remained in the dark until two years later when a letter arrived, telling of his covert journey to Hong Kong and his new life as a vegetable grower. In the wake of his father’s flight, their family was branded as “counter-revolutionary,” shunned and derided by the entire village. Yao had an older brother, but he was too gentle and timid. Yao resolved to become strong, vowing never to let anyone victimize his family again.
Yao told his mother to stay at his elder brother Jun’s house after lunch, assuring her he would be waiting for them in the evening.
As night fell, a group with oil lamps, led by village head Zhang Guo, arrived at Yao’s humble dwelling.
“Hand over your mother right now, or else,” Guo said.
“Didn’t you lot take her away this morning?” Yao said.
Guo nodded, his face expressionless. “We let her go home for lunch around noon, expecting her back for the evening struggle session.”
“She never came back. Who’s gonna step up and make damn sure she comes back, huh?” Yao’s finger singled out each individual in the group.
Guo’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand moved to his side. “Are you seeking trouble?”
“No, I’m seeking justice. You snatched her, and now she’s vanished. You better be damned sure to bring her back, or you’ll regret it.”
“Complain if you dare? Head straight to Commander Zhang, dispatched by the city, and see what happens.”
Guo led, Yao followed, to the struggle session platform in the village square.
Stars twinkled in the sky, but the village lacked electricity. A generator provided a muted light source. The hum and light smoke illuminated a crude wooden platform. Villagers, some with oil lamps, gathered, exchanging rumors as children tiptoed, trying to glimpse the proceedings.
Zhang Tian, the former rich farmer, knelt at the center, his silhouette dim in the faint light. The wind lifted his clothes as the village secretary loudly read Tian’s alleged crimes, the sound echoing through the night. Dogs started barking.
Yao glanced at Commander Zhang. “This morning, my mother was taken by the production team, and I have no idea where she is. They accused her of undermining the movement and plan to publicly humiliate her.”
Commander Zhang raised an eyebrow. Yao continued, “My mother didn’t join collective labor because in our family, two brothers, my sister-in-law, and I – all four of us – are already part of the workforce. No one is at home to care for my brother’s young children. As an alternative, you could establish a kindergarten, and we can bring the children there. This way, my mother can focus on farming. What do you think?”
Commander Zhang remained stone-faced, giving Yao an appraising look. After a moment, he said, “You’re the one attempting to escape to Hong Kong, right?”
“I didn’t. I went out to make a living.”
“Nonsense! Don’t you dare lie to me!”
Yao tilted his head, maintaining eye contact. “You claim I lied, but do you have any evidence?”
“You were held in a shelter for over a month before being sent back.”
“It only indicated that I left home and was caught by the police without proper documentation.”
“Serious attempts to escape may lead to execution. I could drag you to a firing squad, you know.”
“You’re only here to manage land clearing and farming; you have no authority to execute me.”
Commander Zhang pointed at Yao. “How dare you!” His spit almost hit Yao’s face.
Yao leaned forward. “Even if I committed murder and arson today, you have no right to sentence me. You know that very well.”
Following that, no one ever took Yao’s mother for criticism again.
Huina Zheng, with her Distinction M.A. in English Studies, is a college essay coach and an editor. Her stories appear in Baltimore Review, Variant Literature, and more. Nominated three times for both the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, she lives in Guangzhou, China with her family.
