From his features I learned how I had aged. He was a real peasant with deep gaplike wrinkles and weatherbeaten skin. He wore a washed-out green army coat and a pair of worn boots. He was covered with dust. Yet he was solid.
For a moment we were awkward. Words halted our tongues.
The loudspeaker was giving the last warning about safety. And then came the countdown.
Both Evergreen and I turned to look at the city hall. I was sure he saw exactly what I saw.
Like a piece of silk fabric Wild Ginger fell from the building, descending in slow motion.
My mind leapt backward. I saw her sixteen-year-old face.
"You know what, Maple? I am burning fire, the heat itself. Nobody can extinguish my passion for Chairman Mao. I feel so happy and complete. It is Chairman Mao who saved me from withering and kindled my spirit into a glorious blaze!"
Through my tears I felt Evergreen's hand. He came to hold me. I felt his breath on my neck.
I turned to him. There was no hesitation in his eyes. He was determined to pursue what he was doing. His eyes were asking for my permission. I wanted to tell him that I had been waiting for him all along. I wanted to tell him that I was ready. I tried hard to push, to get the words out.
He sealed my words with his lips.
I closed my eyes.
The sound of explosion came.
I tasted her in my mouth.