Revolution Is Not a Dinner Party by Ying Chang Compestine Page A

able to button up the front. My parents went into their bedroom. Moments later Father came out carrying his winter coat and his gray wool sweater—his wedding gift from Mother.
    â€œTake these. Be careful what you say.” Father handed the sweater and coat to Niu.
    Niu pushed Father’s hands back. “I can’t take these. What would you wear for the winter?”
    â€œDon’t worry,” said Father with a grin. “The last places still heated in the hospital are the surgical rooms. I bet they’re going to have me back there soon.”

    I took the sweater from Father and folded it into a neat square. As I set it on top of a pile of Niu’s clothes, I worried that we might not have enough money and ration tickets to buy Father winter clothes. How would Father stay warm if they didn’t allow him to be a doctor again?
    Mother sighed.
    I ran to my room. In the bottom drawer I had hidden a small package. It was tightly wrapped in newspaper. Inside were two chocolate bars in gold and brown plastic wrappers. Holding them to my nose, I took a deep breath. They no longer smelled as rich as when I hid them last year, but I could still imagine the bittersweet chocolate slowly melting and spreading on my tongue. I took one more deep breath and quickly ran to the living room and stuffed them into Niu’s bag. Mother gave me her approving smile, which made me feel less sad about giving up the chocolate.
    The next morning when I woke, Niu was gone. After school, coming back to our empty home, I realized how much I missed him. He had been my only friend.

    We received a letter from Niu a week later. They had sent him to a border town in South China to work on a rubber plantation. Twice a month we received a short letter from him. At the end of summer, the letters stopped, but Father continued writing to him every week.
    Could he have forgotten about us? I couldn’t bear the thought that something bad might have happened to him. I worried about him every day.
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    One rainy night, Father sat next to my bed, telling me my favorite tale of how the Monkey King gathered peaches in the forest, when the loudspeaker called for everybody to report to the courtyard. Mother quickly collected our raincoats and helped me get dressed. In the courtyard, Comrade Li was standing on an office chair with a group of Red Guards gathered around him. I recognized Mouse Eyes and Short Legs. Neighbors stood whispering in small groups under brown oilpaper umbrellas. Rumbling thunder followed slashes of lightning. The chilly wind whipped the electric wires around the courtyard. Shivering in my raincoat,
I tried hard to keep my eyes open in the cold rain.
    Comrade Li cleared his throat and the whispering stopped instantly.
    â€œI’ve been informed that Niu and a group of traitors tried to defect to Hong Kong. Alert soldiers from our People’s Liberation Army captured all, except Niu.” He paused and glared at us.
    My legs weakened from fear. I leaned against Father’s arm.
    â€œAnyone who escapes from our motherland is betraying our great leader, Chairman Mao. Niu is our enemy! If you have any information about him, come to me immediately. Or you, too, will be the people’s enemy.”
    My chest felt stuffed with cotton; I could hardly breathe. If only I had told my parents, maybe they could have stopped Niu. I hated myself for keeping the secret from them.
    Maybe he was in Hong Kong with his uncle now. Soon he would fly to America. I thought of the Golden Gate Bridge. I wished I could be there.
    When we were back home, Mother wept. Father led her to their bedroom. I wasn’t sure if I should tell
them I knew about Niu’s secret. I decided to wait until Mother wasn’t so upset.
    That night, I tossed and turned in bed like a fish in a net. I awoke to heavy pounding. I jumped out of bed and peeked from behind my bedroom door. Short Legs and Mouse Eyes stormed into our living