CHAPTER 1
Chinese Earthquake
The long march after losing Taiwan was not a trail of tears but a laughing troop of Mao Zedong's Red Guards occupying the main land, reforming the old ways as they march along singing propaganda lyrics. They have formed an esprit de corps for the new Young China well documented in the Saturday evening movies for expatriates or the so- called paper tigers hired to build an ammonia plant. Communes would be up-graded for more produce.
The darkened room was ominously quiet except for an occasional scraping of metal fold-up chairs or the bored yawn of a jet-lagged expatriate who knew that his beloved protector, Chiang Kai Sheik, had been pushed to Taiwan.
Engineer Barney Smith sitting next to his wife, Allie, stifled his yawn, wishing he could better spend his hours on a hard government mattress and be ready for laying out tomorrow's plans or helping Allie to train interpreters. English was almost unknown, but French, British, and Yugoslav help would be arriving soon, all needing interpreters. It seemed that the tigers were leaving their cages the world over ... heedless of the Boxer revolt of 1900, expelling all foreigners. He thought of the building supplies being shipped to Tientsin; they would need to make an inspection. Ah, so much to resolve within the one year contract and keep from being an expelled foreigner!
Barney winced as he noticed Allie holding her hands over her ears but not from the deafening sound of the cinema. Their jet had dropped down screeching from overstretched metal, painful to Allie's recent ear surgery. Being huddled at gun point by Red guards into a dark corner to wait for the liaison to arrive, was a further insult.
Lee Yong, being reared in Hong Kong and the USA, explained his almost perfect English as introductions were made. Lee and the Smiths entered a small black French Renault, each noticing the private plane marked with extra large lettering: KISSINGER. Barney wondered if September of 1975 was the proper time and place when few entrepreneurs, other than the well-known Kissinger, braved the Peking Airport, flashing their passports.
Allie began quizzing Lee about acupuncture. Did he ever use it? Ve-ely useful for headache. Spreading out a small soft hand, pointing to the hollow between thumb and forefinger, he indicated a pressure point, as he unlocked the car door. They had arrived at the entrance of the Peking Hotel, and were soon sitting across the dining table from a pair of Nipponese pilots. The airmen looked diminutive when compared to Barney's broadness from being a tough pro boxer and a rough cut sea captain. After introductions, he explained their mission. We're on our way to Tsangchow to help build a fertilizer plant ... the pilots widened their slant-eyes so Barney continued. It's about the new reforms: grow your own groceries or join a commune ...
The cockney-voiced pilots tabled their chop sticks, winked at each other, and laughed, patting their hands. Fertilizer, eh ... we thought they made their own.
Allie looked relieved to find confirmation of her ear ache. They should not have landed that fast, even off-schedule ... it could cause inner ear problems ... or even burst ear drums!
* * *
The cinema had ended with a farewell salute to Mao, and the expatriates wishing their hosts a good night, thanks to the black bristle-haired young lady. The interpreter wore the same blue jacket that all wore, whether interpreter or administrator.
As they stepped downstairs, Allie remembered descending the huge iron horse, and being ushered into a well-marked van with the red flag of the new republic, then whisked off to a walled brick compound where a white-coat houseboy grabbed their bags and headed for the stairs. He was stopped short by Mrs. Site Rep! who resembled a phantom with dangling curlers, and half-coated fingernails, as she screamed, "No, no, they are to stay down here--right next door!"
Next, two suites were arranged for Barney and Allie, each having a western toilet and a massive footed tub. Doubled-barred windows opened onto a diminutive balcony.
A few days later, Amsterdam engineers arrived, and Allie learned of their settling into the suite intended for Barney and herself; however, lonesome Lois had interfered, anticipating arrival of Mahjong players, so she began maneuvering Allie and Barney! Allie stomped her loafers! Gritting her teeth, she could have eaten nails, but remembering the Amsterdam welcome banquet soothed her nerves with the heartfelt toasting to friendship and job success. Being non- alcoholic, Barney poured a bottle of colorless soda into their stemware glasses, crying gan bey! (bottoms up). A counselor, encircling the table, paused to ask, "Why you not drink good Molokai?"
School teacher Allie stammered out, "We Americans sometimes copy Edgar Allen Poe" ... Her sidelong glance at the site reps confirmed a pair of dyed-in-the-wool alcoholics, Lois, middle-aged and plump with a face already flushed under brown-dyed hair sitting next to Luke, tall and thin, lisping, leaning on his interpreter, trying to disclaim his share of Poe ... not many banquets later, she thought, would find him staggering through his last job or through an aborted career.
* * *
Connection to the company's Hong Kong office allowed some food items not found at oriental meals: cheese, crackers, peanut butter, sardines, powdered milk, pork and beans, canned ham ... and Bisquick! These deliveries caused contention among home-sick dieters, but Lois explained that any item they liked at a banquet could be added to their daily menu. Allie somehow came by something delicious: a large bowl of noodles with umpteen small bowl toppings. Every diner rushed to the Smith's table, but the expanded menu failed, as the waiter just shrugged his shoulder to all demanding a duplication.
Apple pies turned out to be very delicious after visiting a commune orchard. Lois rounded up the girls who brought back baskets of apples. They rolled out Hong Kong Bisquick dough and added spices, then handed them over to the guest house cooks to bake in their tremendous iron oven fired with charcoal.
Modern appliances may have been the seeds of discord that later led to Tiananmen Square's massacre of university students. Hong Kong officials upon occasion slipped in an American magazine displaying modern appliances. Allie overheard Interpreters exclaiming see I told you so! as they grouped together to secretly scan through slick pages. They obviously hated their ancient pot belly cook stoves, ice from the Arctic, and old eggs from underground!
The field office could not update their mentors, no matter how hard they tried: requesting a permanent wave kit became laughable when an ancient design arrived with curlers hanging down. "B--but I wanted a kit!" cried Lois., backing off.
Allie, on the other hand, empathized with the beautician and spent some time under the torture chamber, a contraption that developed tiny Mae Murray curls named after a silent screen actress.
After a one-week waiting period she washed out the brassy yellow solution having the odor of Ammonia--permanent was not a new word for the Chinese inventors. They could make a big comeback, sighed Allie, with little help.
Mother Nature would alter discord and teach a lesson in sharing, and caring. Harmony became the keyword after a massive earthquake with its epicenter on the Yellow Sea. Job supplies were shipped near there and recently inspected by the Smiths together with Luke and Lois. They had slept at the Seamen's Club, now split in half according to BBC news ... earth-shaking retribution where the Boxers evicted all Foreigners?
Guest house staffers with their entrepreneurs panicked: running, yelling ... store Shelves emptied, windows shattered ... fie die, fie die, hurry, hurry!
"Barney, Barney, it's a storm!" Allie was half -way across the room headed for the closet when Barney yelled back grabbing his terry robe, "No, it's an earthquake; let's get outside! On the double!"
Tent city was hastily constructed ... were their deceptive hosts expecting aftershocks? They had already kept the subtle tremors to themselves.
Allie gladly shared her Polaroid, games, and duffle bag of toiletries, plus a few paperbacks and stationery; her Bible was avidly read. She noticed clean latrines and all prized liquor flowing free ... A cow bell hung near the door for campers, she was told, to line up whenever it rang to announce their buffet-style meal.
* * *
Allie joined her husband on the cot to hear the short wave radio's latest developments. Her eyes stayed glued to the tent flap watching mercy vans and truck loads of wounded victims bound for nearby Bethune Hospital. She winced to recall the smell of Lysol on their tour, wondering if they were now applying acupuncture to new wounds as they did then to chief engineer Harvey Campbell. He had blamed his broken leg on the aftereffects of rice wine at the festival for animal propagation. Harvey was instructed in the use of an acupuncture kit.
Americans did not forget their country's centennial as Harvey's wife, Nelly, improvised a UN flag to fly next to their stars and stripes already attached to the largest tent. Their youngest expatriate, a fireman from New Hampshire, after a long bout with dysentery, a water-related illness, tooted a small flute from a friendship toy shop. Billy confessed to having been a Purple Patriot in New England's marching band. Secrets lifted their veils as Allie listened to Lois' raison d' affairs for their part in the Chinese contract. "Our daughter has been arrested as an infidel for her support of communistic rallies, so we came here trying to understand her better."
"Interpreters are reading our Bibles; nearly all of us brought one from home. If Chinese return to Christianity, it will narrow the gap. Remind her of being born in Christian America."
The construction project was finally completed with men putting in overtime, each specialist leaving when his segment of the project ended. The one-year ended with Mao's passing and billboards displaying him in the heavens among the clouds.
While driving out of town, Allie was astounded by the sea of tents. "Look Barney, the whole province has moved out of the village."
Barney nodded, "It's a good time to be heading for home."
The Smiths determined to return home with Japan Air but remained at the capitol to visit the great wall, the palace of Tiananmen, the forbidden city and just speculate on this closed-in self sufficient country of mums, lotus, peony, plum blossoms, and roses not to be picked ... people who stacked up chairs to change light bulbs and separated man and wife to control growth, and last, but not least, an earthquake beyond anyone's control, fostered compassion ... to live and let live!
Did the old dowager have to cover her babe and rush out because foreigners were in line to view the Ming Museum? And what of another dowager hobbling on tiny feet as in olden days? Maoism had not taken root everywhere.
Allie repeated Barney's affirmation, "It is a good time to be heading home."
CHAPTER 2
Bouncer
Matthew's photo in sepia brown was taken before cameras snapped in color. He sits nonchalantly in an oatmeal box, a baldheaded roly-poly, the third of five. The oldest sibling, his half-sister Freda, must have been leery of his future by her remark, "Don't hold anything against Matt; I dropped him a lot of times ... on his head ... I'm to blame for anything he does wrong."
The middle tow-head, Marie, born four years later, was Matt's pride from the moment he murdered the king's English, "My biddy sis, ain't she prettiest gal in town?"
The two, Matt and Marie, empathized by way of water. After a flash flood where torrents of rain were seldom seen in the Davis Mountains, school-age Marie was found floating in a tin washtub screaming for help, while Matt was stranded in an oil field tank, actually swimming for his life.
Freda finally attended to Marie. "There, there, you're okay, just hold my hand and step high! Matt is in worse shape. He can't reach the ladder until Dad arrives with his long arms to pull him out of the water tank."
* * *
By the time Marie reached middle school, Matt had become a hero among his peers.
Are you Bouncer's little sis? Do you know he can bend horseshoes? Warble like a canary? Swim like an eel? Endless questions were exaggerated queries. Everyone loves a dare-devil and Matt fit the description of a show-off!
She knew that he had earned letters in football and in all probability, the horseshoe he'd bent was old and rusty, the swimming meet a junior varsity, and without doubt, he did warble like a caged canary, such plaintive notes earning applause for encores.
He became very popular, even in correction school. Having joined a neighborhood gang, he drew the unlucky card for stealing a bicycle. Poor dad had worn out his razor strap and decided to let authorities teach Matt right from wrong.
* * *
All of the childhood tooth-cutting prepared him for a life and death struggle--a future conscription assignment to the most dangerous field of the armed forces, the signal corps of 1943! Uncle Sam felt an obligation to assist allies attacked in World War II and to help thwart the mania for unlimited conquest--the goal of the German Nazis.
Soon growing tired of so many narrow escapes from enemy strafing and booby traps, Matt wrote home that he was allowed a transfer to a massive tent called the mess hall where he grilled on an open fire and boiled soup and stews in huge pots to supplement rations that every soldier carried in his survival kit.
After his two-year service, he left the signal corps to become a hired chef, writing to Marie of having escaped the large fatality listing. Living up to his nickname.
With a public shortage of appliances, repairs were essential. Matt became skillful in rebuilding vacuums. He worked on Hoovers for many years until a senseless accident placed him in a VA hospital. It was after dark when he was exhausted from long work hours and stumbled on the top step of a rent house. Hip surgery placed him in a VA Hospital, but bouncing back seemed impossible to Marie when orderlies expected the protesting patient to use a treadmill only one day after surgery. A heart attack was listed as cause of death.
* * *
The chaplain asked Marie if she wanted to press charges. She bowed her head and heard the poignant warble, feeling that all is well on the other side ... although it didn't seem to end well for one who could swim hours in a water tank, bend a horseshoe, and escape all the booby traps of a signal corps enlistment. It seemed ironic, she thought, that her protective Bouncer could not escape from a medical mistake.
CHAPTER 3
Caretaking A Lake
Giant excavator hired to dig ten feet needed the sudden flash flood to finish filling its half-dug water hole. Torrents of rain from heaven. No more digging, if you please! The cavern deepened day by day, finally edging the rig off the premises with a grinding screech, allowing clean rain to complete its job.
Aspirants for a water hole, call it a cattle tank, a pond, or a 5-acre lake need to plan its construction on the eve of a rainy season and watch for a dark cloud ... Stomp an Indian Rain Dance, slaughter the drums--we know that vibrations, even a water-witch, connects with ground water vibes. So, Robert and Alicia were glad they had sneaked in their blarney stone when packing for their rural retirement ... looking above in thanks for a flash flood filling the five acres they had reserved for a lake.
* * *
Lake Blarney's first birthday found Alicia at the kitchen sink washing dishes and wondering at the strange roaring sound until she decided to investigate its source. Something about it reminded her of Mexico's Horsetail Falls or Oklahoma's Turner Falls with their unforgettable roaring. Approaching the patio for a closer look, she was jolted to actually see water flowing over the bank from a secluded pond unknown to exist until now. If you were to ask, she would say no, this is not Rain Tree County, but Gantry County in Southern Texas where locals are invited to bring their fishing poles.
