Everyday movement, p.21
Everyday Movement, page 21
She sent him a message. “Are you really not voting? Come on, give Hong Kong a chance!” She stared at the chat window for a long time, but there was no reply. He was probably still asleep, she told herself.
The bus had left the New Territories and crossed into Kowloon. As it neared Ah Mak’s home, the serpentine road was flanked by starkly different landscapes. On the left side were high-rise residential buildings; on the right was a stretch of jagged hills and overgrown woodland.
She messaged Sai Mui to check in on things at home. Sai Mui reported that Mom and Dad had planned to vote before breakfast, but when they arrived at the polling station just after eight, the queue was already spilling into the nearby park. Mom didn’t want Grandpa to stand outside for so long, so they went for dim sum first instead.
“Mom knew you’d come back to vote. She bought something for you,” Sai Mui texted mysteriously. Panda figured it was strawberries.
* * *
—
When Panda arrived at Ah Mak’s, she found Ah Lei already in the kitchen, putting spaghetti into a pot of boiling water. Ah Mak was out on the balcony hanging up laundry. On the TV, Sunday Theatre was playing a Stephen Chow film. Panda called out to Ah Mak, “This is so nostalgic! The last time I saw this program was before college! Remember we used to watch it together every Sunday afternoon?”
Ah Mak finished putting the last few pieces of clothes on the laundry line and joined Panda. He was clean shaven and had a fresh haircut.
“Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about the past. Do you remember the summer before I started junior high, we all went to Ocean Park?” she said.
“Yeah. The tourists were so excited to see a panda, but it took a giant dump. It was hilarious.”
“Ick! That’s so gross,” Ah Lei said. “Lunch is ready.” They each sat down to a bowl of freshly cooked spaghetti accompanied by a soft-boiled egg on the side.
“I thought that panda was so cool. It didn’t give a damn about expectations from others.” Panda went to the fridge and found a jar of mayonnaise.
“Gotta respect the panda’s free will,” Ah Mak joked. He tapped the eggshell lightly against the table, cracking it into his bowl. Panda followed suit and mixed some mayonnaise into the spaghetti with her chopsticks. The strands were coated in a velvety, milky sauce. Panda loved the eggy aroma: sweet and salty.
“Carbonara for dorm living,” Ah Lei said, picking out bits of egg shell from Ah Mak’s bowl.
Ah Lei had been making the same dish when Panda returned to the dorm for the first time after their fight. Panda had come back to pick up something she had left behind, but as soon as she got out of the elevator, she bumped into Ah Lei boiling pasta in the common kitchen on their floor. The tiny space was thick with steam. Ah Lei was pulling her long hair into a ponytail with a red hair tie. Panda felt a little awkward, but when Ah Lei invited her to share the food, Panda obliged.
It was a particularly intense day out there. In the morning, students discovered that someone had broken into the chemistry department building. The unknown burglar had smashed the lock on the building and stolen chemicals from the lab, presumably to make a bomb. Then, a young man hijacked a campus bus to help transport students and supplies. He didn’t have a driver’s license and ended up driving it into the sidewalk. Luckily, it didn’t cause any injuries.
“I don’t feel good about what’s happening,” Ah Lei said as she slurped the noodles.
“It’s getting wild. Thankfully, no one was injured by the bus,” Panda said.
“I wonder what happened to all the Molotov cocktails we made the other night,” Ah Lei said. They ended up making too many. A boy visiting campus somehow found the excess stash and threw one for fun. It caused a small fire, but students were able to put it out.
“I know,” Panda said. “In the last few months, we’ve seen plenty of smashed storefronts and other damaged properties. I always told myself that these were necessary for the cause. But now that things are happening on campus, it hits different.”
“It’s really hard to weigh my decisions. Sometimes I feel that whichever path I choose, I might end up hating myself in the future,” Ah Lei said. She finished her meal quickly and got up to leave. “Sister Ka asked me to bring her saline solution,” she said.
“Go,” Panda waved her off. “I’ll wash the dishes.”
After eating, Panda felt tired. She left the dishes and her unfinished noodles by the kitchen sink and went back to their room. She shut the windows and drew the curtains, and sank into her bed. These past few days, she had felt exhausted but couldn’t leave the chaos behind. Even right now, Panda felt that she could hear people shouting. She could smell the faint trace of tear gas hanging in the air. She couldn’t summon the strength to get up and go out there, but she couldn’t fall asleep, either. Everyone had fought so hard for six months. What if nothing came of all this effort?
It used to bug her when Ah Lei acted like this. But their roles seemed to have reversed. In the aftermath of Ah Mak’s arrest, Ah Lei snapped into focus. Panda, on the other hand, began to question the meaning of everything.
She turned to her phone. Five minutes, and she’d get up to wash the dishes, she promised herself. She doomscrolled on social media and hopped between group chats and news sites. She was seeking updates while dreading them at the same time.
Half an hour went by. She came across a clip showing the sports ground not far from their dorm building. The footage was shaky and often out of focus, but Panda made out a young woman who covered her left eye and sobbed. “It hurts so bad! I don’t want to go blind! I just want to go home,” she said.
Then the camera showed the woman’s profile, revealing a ponytail with a red hair tie. Panda bolted upright. Was this Ah Lei? She rewatched the clip several times but wasn’t sure. She called Ah Lei. No one picked up. Her texts went unanswered. The last thing she had said to Ah Lei was offering to do the dishes. The conversation before that had ended with Ah Lei asking, “Would it only be enough for you if your mom took a bullet?” Panda regretted not acting warmer just now. She regretted holding back from completely reconciling. Did it take her best friend getting shot for her to get over herself?
Panda rushed toward the elevator. The plates were still sitting by the sink, unwashed. Her limbs felt weak. She prayed to every god she knew. The elevator door opened. Ah Lei emerged from it, seemingly unscathed. “The eggs must have been undercooked. I spent the last half an hour in the bathroom.” Panda threw her arms around Ah Lei. “I’m sorry, Ah Lei. I’m so sorry.”
* * *
—
Panda checked her phone again after leaving Ah Mak’s place. Ah Ming had read her last message but didn’t respond.
When they walked together hand in hand, she sometimes gradually loosened her grip, testing if Ah Ming would clasp her hand tighter or let it go. He never seemed to notice. If she turned around and walked away, she wondered, would Ah Ming come after her before she disappeared into the crowd?
Ah Ming’s silence made her uneasy. She sent another message to press him. “What if I say that your unwillingness to vote means you don’t love me enough?”
On the bus ride, her phone buzzed several times, but they were all election updates. By the time she got to the polling station in her home area, it was already past four in the afternoon. The line was still quite long. She called Sai Mui to let her family know she was here. When she came out of the station, she saw Mom carrying a couple of bags, waiting for her.
Mom opened one of the bags and began to explain things. “These sheet masks are hydrating ones. The weather’s getting cold and the air is dry. These are lozenges—just let them dissolve, don’t crush them. They’ll soothe your throat. And here are some packets of dried fruits. They’re naturally air-dried and healthy. Stop snacking on chips. They’re so greasy.” Before Mom finished talking, Panda wrapped her arms around her. When was the last time she embraced her mother? Panda inhaled her smell.
“Silly girl, what’s wrong?” Mom stroked Panda’s hair. “Are you tired?”
Panda murmured yes in response.
“It’s okay. Everyone is getting tired.”
Panda let go of Mom and took the bags from her. She noticed some new wrinkles on Mom’s face. “Okay, it’s getting late, I’ll let you head to Ah Ming’s. Say hello for me. Don’t forget to eat the strawberries. I’ve picked out all the seeds.”
* * *
—
As soon as Panda parted ways with Mom, her phone buzzed. She adjusted the bags so she’d have a free hand to check her messages. It was from Ah Ming. “Fine, I’ll vote.”
She yelped. Her hard work had paid off, her mission was complete. All is good. Now they were together, ushering in the change they wanted to see. In this buoyant mood, she hailed a cab.
At ten p.m., voting ended. Panda sat alone in Ah Ming’s family’s living room. The TV was on. Workers at polling stations across the city began counting ballots. There were journalists stationed at each district. Media outlets and the government website provided live updates. Ah Ming was playing video games in his room. His parents had gone to bed. Panda refreshed the news and social media apps on her phone frantically.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come watch? It’s so exciting!” Panda called out to Ah Ming.
“Enjoy,” Ah Ming answered indifferently.
This wasn’t quite what she had pictured. She had wanted them to experience this emotional moment together. But at least Ah Ming had voted, she consoled herself. That was what mattered. Numerous men and women had fought so hard for the last six months. They deserved a measurable victory. They needed it.
After midnight, the count was still going. Panda decided to take a quick shower. She really needed to shampoo her hair. As soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, she saw a map on TV where most districts were marked yellow—the pro-democracy camp had won in a landslide. It really happened! A complete reversal of power! She checked her phone for more specifics: among the more than five hundred seats spread across eighteen districts, challengers won more than 90 percent of them. They won in Panda’s district, Ah Mak’s district, and Ah Ming’s district.
“Ah Ming, Ah Ming, we won! A total victory!” Panda dashed into Ah Ming’s room to share the news. “Aren’t you glad you voted? I have faith in human nature again!”
Ah Ming paused his game. He flashed a smile. Panda knew she shouldn’t have doubted his intentions. She shouldn’t have doubted their relationship.
He stood up and petted her wet hair. “Come on, I’ll dry your hair.” Ah Ming nudged her back to the bathroom and plugged in the blow-dryer. The hot air and noise drowned out all else. Whatever problems lingered between Ah Ming and her, Panda was confident she could fix them. They would work things out. Her frustration over the movement, her doubts about solidarity, dissipated.
She gestured for him to stop the blow-dryer.
“Aren’t you just so happy?” she asked.
“No.”
“Isn’t this worth being happy over?”
“Not for me.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Am I allowed not to feel happy?” Ah Ming said.
“I just don’t understand. How could you possibly stay unhappy when something absolutely wonderful just happened?”
Ah Ming set the blow-dryer aside. “Do you remember telling me about throwing out your favorite skirt?”
* * *
—
Shortly after Panda and Ah Ming started dating, she told him a story from her first year of university.
It was the end of the semester. No one had time to spare. Everyone was stressed out from days of back-to-back exams. One evening, she emerged from a four-hour exam all sweaty. She had put on a red plaid skirt she really liked for good luck. The midi cotton skirt clung to her body, the hip and thigh area drenched from hours of sitting.
A group of classmates were going to pick up bread for dinner and then head straight to a study room. They made a pact to pull an all-nighter before the exam the next morning. Panda said she wanted to go back to her dorm room first. She needed to shower and to make herself some instant noodles. She would join them later.
“Ooh la la. Look at Miss Hoity-Toity here. You can’t skip a shower or a meal like the rest of us?” a classmate mocked her.
Another nicer classmate pleaded, “Don’t go! If you leave now, you definitely won’t come back. Let’s stick together and push through the night.”
Panda couldn’t defy the group pressure and stayed. She spent the night studying in the windowless, stifling basement study room. She felt sticky all over and her thighs were really itchy. She knew if she started scratching, she would never stop. She shifted her legs, trying to dispel the discomfort. The itch didn’t go away, but a sour smell arose. She felt like rotting fruit.
She wanted to leave. What would she give to have a shower? But she knew what the group would say about quitting halfway. She endured what felt like the longest night of her life.
During the exam, Panda barely remembered a single thing from the night before. She ended up handing in her answer sheet early and ran back to her dorm room. She ripped her clothes off and tossed them on the floor. In the mirror, she saw red rashes spreading from the inside of her thigh down to the curve of her calf.
She stayed in the shower for a long time. She used a lot of body wash and scrubbed hard with a loofah, imagining she could scrape off the rash like removing scales from a fish, or purging rotten crops from a field. Afterward, she picked up the dirty clothes with a plastic bag and took them to the trash room.
“Just like that, my treasured skirt was ruined. Somehow, this was one of the most upsetting memories from that year,” Panda told Ah Ming.
He nodded in understanding. “Sometimes self-righteous goodwill is more violent than outright malice.”
* * *
—
When Ah Ming brought this up again, Panda was perplexed.
“What does that have to do with the election results?”
“Tell me, do you even remember how you did on that exam?”
“No. I guess what stuck with me wasn’t the grade, it was how unbearable that night was. But why are you bringing it up now?”
“That night, your classmates, who might have had perfectly good intentions, demanded you to stay. Nevertheless, they forced their will on you, in the name of friendship. In a way, it was almost violent.”
Ah Ming put his hand on Panda’s arm before he went on. “Listen, I know you mean well, but in the last month, you pestered me endlessly about voting even after I explained my doubts about the effectiveness of elections and the legislative system. I feel you’ve been forcing your will onto me in the name of love.”
“How can you lump these two things together?” Panda brushed Ah Ming’s hand off. How dare he ruin this supremely joyful moment? She had let him in on this woeful memory. How dare he use it against her! But these emotions felt too vulnerable to share in this heated moment. “I’ve said this so many times already. We have to work within the system to gain resources and power. That’s the only productive way to protect more people.” She repeated her spiel.
“The standoff at your university was resolved quickly, but many students were still trapped at other campuses. What about them? What about the students who disappeared when they tried to flee through the sewers? What about all the people who died, who were arrested, who went into exile? What does an election victory do for them?”
Panda wanted Ah Ming to shut his mouth. To stop asking all these pointed questions about the election. They made her feel like the floor was sinking. He was her lover. They had held each other close during their darkest hours. So why couldn’t their happiness be in sync? Why couldn’t her happiness be enough to make him happy too? Hope had become such a rare thing. If he couldn’t share this night of euphoria with her, he should have at least allowed her to have it. But no, he was hell-bent on that damned prophetic high ground of defeatist nihilism. He just had to dismiss the electoral victory as nothing more than a collective delusion.
“And what have you done? Anything besides sitting here playing video games?” She grabbed the towel draped over her shoulders and threw it at Ah Ming.
She headed to Ah Ming’s room to pack her things. He followed her into the room and lifted the game console, yanking out the plugged cables, and slammed the machine to the floor. The plastic shell split open. Parts flew in all directions.
“You want to force everyone to live in your reality!” Ah Ming shouted. “I doubt this election will actually change anything, and I didn’t want to be part of it. But you just have to push me. Pushing me to vote and pushing me to perform happiness when I don’t feel it. You hunted me down. I can’t even escape into the world of games. Are you satisfied now?”
Ah Ming’s parents were woken up by the commotion and came to check on them. Alarmed by the wreckage on the floor, they asked what had happened.
Neither Ah Ming nor Panda said anything. Mechanically, she collected her things. Ah Ming’s mother tried to comfort her. “He’s just like that. He normally doesn’t make a fuss, but when he feels pushed, he lashes out like this.”
Panda didn’t respond, so Ah Ming’s mother went on. “It’s really not a big deal. Once he had even smashed a TV when he was fighting with his dad. It’s all fine now, isn’t it? Don’t take it to heart. All couples fight and make compromises. As the saying goes, Lovers fight at the head of the bed only to make up at the foot of it. And it’s too late for a young lady to wander through the street. Stay the night, and you two will figure it out in the morning.”
