I shook the boards loose. The bees were everywhere now. Furious and terrified. They wanted to get me, to avenge themselves. I stomped on them, on the brood, on their babies. But the sound was muffled, barely audible. Not like broken glass. I continued all the same. Destroy them. Crush them. Tear their wings off. Because they had destroyed me.
And then it hit me. How simple it was.
We could destroy each other.
I was standing in the midst of a cloud of furious bees, raging around me.
It was so simple.
I lifted my hand to the zipper, to the veil.
All I had to do was lift it up.
Take off the hat.
Off with the gloves.
Pull down the zipper quickly—squirm out of the suit.
Kick off the boots.
And just stand here and let them do the job.
They would sting me in self-defense. Pierce me, sacrificing their lives to take mine. And this time my father wouldn’t be here to take me in his arms and run off with me, while the cloud of bees stormed above us and followed us all the way to the river, where he pulled us under and held us down until the attack was over.
This time I would fall down. Stay down. The poison would run through my veins. Let them keep stinging, and if they stopped, I’d kick them with bare toes, step on them so they continued, kept stinging until I was beyond recognition.
They should have their revenge. They deserved it.
And then everything would be over.
I’d do it now.
Now.
My fingers clutched the veil. The thin fabric against the heavy gloves.
Lifted it.
Now!
But then…
Footsteps crossing the field. Someone shouting.
Heading towards me.
At first calmly, and then stronger. Louder.
Wearing a white suit. Hat, veil. Fully dressed, ready to work. Once again he’d come without a warning. Or perhaps Emma had known.
He’d come. For good?
He was running now. Did he see me? What was happening?
The cries became louder, piercing through the air.
“Dad? Dad!”
Chapter 61
TAO
The boy and his father stood behind me as I put the key into the lock and opened the door to an empty evening darkness.
Kuan’s jacket wasn’t hanging on the hook in the hallway. His shoes were gone.
I pushed down the handle on the bathroom door.
His shelf above the sink was empty. There was just a trace of soap where his razor had been.
He’d moved without saying anything. Because he wanted to? Because he thought I wanted him to? Because everything about me reminded him of Wei-Wen, the way everything about Kuan reminded me of him?
Because he blamed me?
Yet another one who’d disappeared. But this time I couldn’t search for him. I couldn’t ask, couldn’t contact him. This was his decision, I had no right to ask. For I was still to blame.
The boy and his father had stayed in the hallway. They looked at me expectantly. I had to say something.
“You can take the bedroom.”
I put my bag down in the middle of the living room floor and made up a bed for myself on the couch. I could hear the boy talking in there. His voice came in waves, eager, chattering about practical details with a newfound energy. He’d rediscovered a future. The darkness in him had disappeared. Or perhaps I’d put too much into the words the evening before. Loaded them with all of my own stuff.
I went over to the window. The fence was still there. In the air above it a helicopter was circling. The bees were contained, like in a cocoon, not a single one was supposed to slip out, not until there were many more of them and there was certain knowledge about how to control them. That was how Li Xiara wanted it to be.
She wanted to tame them. They were going to save us. She wanted to tame them, the way she had tamed me. And I’d allowed myself to be tamed. That was the easiest. Follow her, don’t think.
The boy was laughing. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh. How young and bright his laughter was. I’d given them something. The sound grew louder, made it easier to breathe. When was the last time somebody had laughed between these four walls? Behind me was the bag. Inside it was the book, I’d never returned it, but read all of it from beginning to end. I carried the words with me, but didn’t know what to do with them. It was too enormous, I couldn’t cope with it.
They were preparing the square, clearing away a space. A podium was being built, cameras rigged up. Several crews were working at once, because the speech was going to be broadcast to the entire world. An energetic producer bossed people around. In the background she stacked large baskets full of freshly picked pears. The symbolism felt exaggerated. But maybe that was what it would take.
I was given my own dressing room. A woman came in with some clothes to choose from. Nothing flashy, but all of the clothes were brand new. A simple design, it resembled the uniform from the Party’s earliest phase, as if to remind viewers where I came from, that I was one of them, one of the people. They were a little stiff, with fold creases, but of a soft fabric.
“It’s cotton,” the woman said. “Recycled cotton.”
I’d never before owned a cotton garment. Every meter cost a month’s salary. I chose a blue suit, put it on. The fabric breathed, I could barely feel it against my skin. I turned to look in the mirror. It suited me. I looked like one of them. Like her, Li Xiara, not like a worker from the fruit fields, but like the person I was perhaps actually meant to be.
I was somebody else in this suit—the person she asked me to be. I turned around, looked in the mirror over my shoulder; the jacket hung nicely over the shoulders, the trousers fit around the hips. I tugged a little at the sleeves; they ended exactly where they should.
Then I met my own gaze. My eyes… they looked so much like his. But who was I? I looked down. Wei-Wen had never owned a cotton garment. And his short life had not had any meaning.
Again I forced myself to raise my head, to look at myself. A useful idiot stared back at me.
No. All of a sudden the fabric felt abrasive against my skin. I tore off the blouse. Stepped out of the trousers and left them lying on the floor.
It would have meaning. And I knew how.
I pulled my own threadbare sweater down over my head, tugged on my old trousers, buttoned them quickly and put on my shoes.
Then I picked up my bag, which was lying on the floor, opened the door to the dressing room and quickly walked out. I found the producer and grabbed hold of her.
“Where is Li Xiara? I have to talk to Li Xiara.” She was in the village Committee building, had received the largest office. Three men were chased out of there by a security guard when I arrived, even though it was absolutely clear that they had hadn’t finished their conversation.
Li Xiara stood up quickly and walked over to greet me. She tried one of her gentle smiles, but I was done with this now.
“Here.” I handed her the book.
She accepted it, but didn’t open it, didn’t even look at it.
“Tao, I’m looking forward to hearing you speak.”
“You have to read the book,” I said.
“If you like we can go over it one more time, I’d be happy to do so. The wording. Perhaps we should change some of the phrasing…”
“I just want you to read this,” I said.
She finally shifted her gaze towards the book, stroked the title with one finger. “The History of Bees?”
I nodded. “I won’t do anything, I won’t give any speeches until you’ve read it.”
She looked up quickly. “What are you saying?”
“You people are doing everything wrong.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We are doing everything we can.”