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

room.
    â€œWhat can I do for you?” Father asked sternly. He was in his yellow cotton pajamas.
    â€œWe caught Niu. Come with us,” Mouse Eyes snarled.
    Father grabbed a jacket and hurried out after them.
    My heart filled with joy. Niu was alive! But relief turned to worry. Was he hurt? Would they let him come home? It must be. Otherwise, why would they get Father? It had been over two months since I last saw him.
    Without changing out of my pajamas, I slipped on my overcoat and set up the folding bed near the fireplace. After covering it with the softest blanket from my bed, I ran to the kitchen to light the stove. Niu might like a hot bath after he got home.
    Mother had given me a lesson on how to light our
coal stove. It was shaped like a bucket with a small door. Inside, about halfway down, it had a grate. To light it, first put a handful of wood chips in the center, then set the egg-size coal pieces on top, and quickly fan air into the open door.
    When I tried, the wood chips went out without lighting the coal on top. I spread more chips around the coal. This time only smoke came out. My eyes stung and my throat felt like it was being poked by small fish bones. Just when I was running out of ideas, Father came back. Niu was not with him.
    â€œWhere is Niu?” I ran to him.
    Father took out his handkerchief and wiped ashes off my face. The sadness in his eyes made him seem older.
    â€œTell me, Daddy.” I shook his arm. “Is Niu okay? Is he coming home?”
    Father swallowed. “Niu is okay. But he’s not coming back.”
    â€œWhy?” I cried.
    Mother came in with a basketful of vegetables, a few eggs nested on top. “What happened?” she
asked, wiping sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.
    â€œThey caught Niu in the river and brought him back late last night.” Father sat down heavily in a chair. “Five Red Guards interrogated him all night. Today he drew a class line and denounced his parents and us as his enemies.” Father stared at the floor with tears in his eyes. “In exchange, Comrade Li will let him stay in the city and present him to the neighborhood as a model revolutionary who turned against the evil bourgeoisie.”
    Mother’s basket struck the floor. Vegetables spilled over, and one egg broke. “What’s happening to all of us?” She burst out crying.
    â€œWhy, Daddy?” I shouted. “What have we done to become his enemy?” I thought of Father’s coat and my precious chocolate.
    Without anwering me, Father got up and went into his bedroom.
    What did “draw a class line” mean? After one of the boys in our courtyard drew a class line, he joined the Red Guards and his parents were sent away. Would Niu keep the secrets we shared? Would they
have hurt him if he hadn’t drawn a class line? The thought of Niu calling me his enemy made me believe I could never be happy again.
    That afternoon, coming home from school, I saw a huge poster by the hospital entrance. My eyes blurred in the bright sunlight. The characters were written in red ink.

    DEAR MOTHERDEAR FATHER
    BUT NOBODY IS AS DEAR AS CHAIRMAN MAO … .

    I sped up, squeezing past a crowd in front of it, my thoughts racing. I’d never met Chairman Mao. I doubted he would take care of me when I was sick or sing English songs with me. He could never be dearer than my parents.

Dark Clouds
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    After the three janitors in the hospital were praised as the working class, they no longer had to do their work. Instead, they gave political lectures at meetings and oversaw the Revolution. Now it became Father’s job to clean the whole hospital.
    Each night, Father came home dirty and tired. When he walked in the door, I ran to fetch his slippers and set them in front of his chair. “Are you tired, Daddy?”
    â€œNever!” He slapped his chest and flexed his arm muscles. “I am a tireless horse.”
    I asked him one