“Alright people, listen up.” Ms. Peng clapped her hands to gather the students’ attention. “This might be the most important task I’ve ever given you students.” She spoke in a solemn tone, her eyes wide. I looked at the people around me — even in the coldest time of the year, no one dared to make their exhaled air a cloud of white gas in front of Ms. Peng. We just waited patiently for instructions.

“In exactly one week, Mr. Teoh will come to our school from the capital. He might be the most important person you will ever meet. What you need to do as the student committee is to organize a group performance that emphasizes the unity and harmony of our nation.”

Mr. Teoh was a legendary character. I used to read about the glorious triumphs he had in the civil war, fighting valiantly against the Kuomintang armies. I admired him a great deal and immediately felt honored when Ms. Peng uttered his name.

“The sunset looks different today,” Tian said after the meeting. We stood in the cold, shivering.

I looked up at the fiery clouds as the sun vanished. “It is later than usual.”

“Do you think we can pull this off? Seven people organizing an event this big?”

“Of course,” I said firmly. I looked at his face full of excitement but also doubt. “Have some confidence, Tian. I already have ideas, like recreating some of his battles. We can discuss more tomorrow morning before school starts. Let’s meet here thirty minutes in advance.” I waved at Tian and left.

On my way home, the sun gradually disappeared behind me, and the wind bit at my cheeks. But even at this time, the streets and alleys were still flooded with people walking to their evening jobs. God knows why adults were always in a rush — just like my parents. Fortunately, my father and mother worked during the day. They would usually leave the house around the same time I went to school but they came back much later than I did.

However, today wasn’t the usual case; I would get home after they did. I could already imagine my father’s suspicious tone. “Where have you been?” I knew he worried about me — probably thinking I was rebellious enough to sneak out on the streets and read forbidden books — but he didn’t have to be concerned. I had been a student committee member since middle school and had already organized countless ceremonies and performances for important government officials. I loved this work. Every time I shouted out a command, every time I watched my own creation come to life on stage, I felt my chest swell with pride. If my father had witnessed any of my achievements with his own eyes, he’d seen what a strong and dependable leader I was. Most of all, he’d understand my loyalty to our nation.

I pulled my right hand out of my pocket, knocked on the door, and put it back to keep it from getting frozen. The door creaked open. My mother stood there frowning. “Come on in,” she said.

Once inside, my hands swelled up as I warmed them over the hot stove. The smell of charcoal burning emanated from the stove and I tried to bury my nose in my sleeve to avoid it. “ I see you came home late,” she said, “and empty-handed. You know neither your father nor I have the time to get herbs for dinner.”

“I know, mother,” I said. It was normally my job to collect them before coming home. Tonight because of my school meeting, it had been too late for that. “Ms. Peng held the student committee members after school to help us begin a new performance for Mr. Teoh.”

She paused for a moment and asked, “the Red Army lieutenant?”

“He used to be. Yes. Now he is a member of the Youth League.”

“Fine,” she said, but her face suddenly looked worried. After a brief moment of awkward silence between us, she said, “The corn mush is on the other stove.”

I noticed that my father was not at the dinner table. “Where’s dad?”

“He is working.”

I nodded and took note of the light coming through the crack under his office door. My mother didn’t say anything more, though her face looked tired as she left the kitchen. I returned my attention to my father’s closed door. I knew he was in there and I knew he’d heard what I’d told my mother. Shouldn’t he be proud? Why hadn’t he walked out of his room to say something about it? I began to wonder if he was in a world of his own.

But I was smart enough not to beg for his attention. He was the man of the house and I could not imagine what it was like to be responsible for making sure the munitions factory in town was up to code every week. I had my own responsibilities as a son, student, and devout committee member and all I could do was vow that I would not fail in my obligations in any of these roles.

The next morning, I woke up an hour earlier than usual, packed my schoolwork and textbooks, stuffed a wotou from the kitchen into my pocket, and set off for school. It was still bitterly cold outside, but the light of dawn made me feel slightly better. Hopeful even. Plus, I was excited about planning our presentation. When I got to the school, Tian, Junming, and the other students stood in a small circle.

“Zhenghe, you gotta see this,” Tian waved at me.

“What is it?” I approached.

“Yan brought an egg today!”

“An egg?”

Then, I saw Yan’s prideful face, holding a hot, spiced corned egg. And the people beside him? Their eyes were fixed on the “treasure” in Yan's hands as if they had nothing better to do than to drool over someone’s breakfast. Are these the people of our country’s future?

“Alright, that’s enough,” I said, taking control of the group. “Let’s not waste time.”

“You are jealous that your parents didn’t buy you an egg,” Yan said.

He was wrong. “It’s just an egg! Now Yan, why don’t you put it in your mouth, swallow it, and turn it into some real energy so we can start executing the plan?”

Things settled down and we began working. After an hour, we’d made a list of all the students who would act in Mr. Teoh’s welcoming performance. But the difficult work still lay before us: we had to write the script and begin rehearsals. I told the team that we should all write a rough draft that night and we’d look at them the following morning and choose the best one.

“You write the script,” Yan said. The others giggled. “Yours will be the best anyway.” I was not ashamed to hear that and embraced the idea. Class started soon after, but all I could think about was the script I would write. I had an idea to open the performance with a scene of Mr. Teoh heroically leading a squad of soldiers through a rain of bullets as the choir enters singing On the Great Road.

“You wrote this in your textbook?” Tian laughed when I showed him my ideas during recess.

“Yes, but who cares?” I said. “What do you think of the idea?”

“Well, we’d need additional props to make the opening scene possible. It would be more work but would certainly be worth it.”

I was pleased that he approved my draft. Things were starting to become clear and with the remaining six days, both Tian and I felt more confident than ever before.

We finalized the script and, after a few days of preparations, kicked off rehearsals. All of our cast were present despite the wintry weather. I was grateful for Yan’s mother assembling pieces of fabric for the soldier-style uniforms that we needed. We also decided that the actors would muddy their faces to make the opening more authentic. Rehearsals went smoothly after that and I was proud of what we accomplished in a short time. After six days, we were ready for the final rehearsal.

“Sounds good,” Junming said as the choir sang “long live the people”. My right index finger slid along the words on the page, following what was happening on stage. When the last note ended, Tian and I couldn’t help applauding.

Seven days of hard work had turned into something already magnificent. After giving a morale-boosting speech to the stage crew, I dismissed the group. The sun disappeared behind me on my way home, and the wind bit at my cheeks. The noise was like a suspenseful prelude to tomorrow’s presentation.

Suddenly, I noticed the back of a middle-aged man struggling across the street; it felt like he would be knocked over by the wind at any moment. He carried a battered briefcase on his left shoulder, and the weight of it made his walking more awkward. It was my father. I hadn’t noticed how old he looked until this moment. He was fragile, now. No longer the strongest. No longer the wisest, perhaps. In fact, I felt myself becoming what he had been.

When he left my view, I decided to detour into the herb fields. I’d forgotten about it since the first day I started preparing for the show, and neither my mother nor father had complained. They must have understood the choices I had to make for the greater good. But now that everything was done, why shouldn’t I return to the herb fields? When I got back home with a handful of vegetables, my mother looked worried. In fact, she had looked this way every night since I’d started preparing for Mr. Teoh’s show. And my father, for his part, had not stepped out of his office for dinner the entire week. I spoke softly: “Mom, is there something that I should know about? You haven’t looked well recently.”

She ignored my question. “Dinner is ready,” she said. “Bring the porridge to your father.” I followed my mother’s order and walked to his office door. I knocked gently. “Come in,” he said.

The room was dark except for a yellow light cast by a modest kerosene lamp. My father sat surrounded by piles of papers at his desk. He gripped his pen with his wrinkled hand, writing non-stop. I could see that he was losing his hair.

He raised his head, looked at me blankly, and pointed at an empty space on his desk. “Just put it there,” he said.

I obeyed, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave; instead, I walked closer to him.

“Dad?” I felt an invisible pressure arise inside me. “Do you know what is going on with mom?”

“No,” he answered sharply. “Now please, leave me to my work.”

“Dad, I just want to know what happened. Is she worried about you?”

He took off his reading glasses and looked at me directly. “You want to know what happened? What got her so anxious?”

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath. “We had an argument.”

“About what?”

He paused. “About what has been making you late every evening.”

“The presentation for Mr. Teoh from the capital?”

“Mr. Teoh,” he said, “Yes. That man.” He leaned forward. “I know you look up to this seeming hero of our nation. But do you really think he ever dared to pick up a rifle? No. He never even left base camp during battles.”

“That’s enough.” My mother suddenly stepped into the room and swiftly grabbed my arm. Her eyes were red. “Zhenghe, go eat.”

“No!” The old man slowly stood up from his antique chair and looked at me. “Teoh is corrupt. This man sits in a luxurious palace while I wake up early in the morning and go to the factory for hours. And for what? A few cents in return. Just look at what we are eating for dinner!”

I stared at him in horror. The loving father I once knew had become a monster. He was insane. I clenched my fists; I wanted to hit him.

“You are becoming another nationalist who knows absolutely nothing,” he said. “Your mother wanted me to stay silent and not tell you how I really feel, but I have had enough. You were two when the famine happened. I saw kids your age starve on the streets, limbs put into soup pots. Today is a Mr. Teoh and tomorrow will be another just like him.” He started coughing uncontrollably and sat down. “Both of you. Leave me now.”

Back at the dinner table, my hunched mother and I sat twenty feet away from the nest of a demon. I felt sorry for her. She’d been fighting all by herself to keep our family’s dark secret in the shadows. It was only eight o’clock, but the entire house was dead silent. An hour later, I helped my mother to her bedroom.

“Ignore your father,” she said, “he didn’t mean it.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I went to my own bed. But I couldn’t fall asleep. How cowardly had I been to let my father get away with what he’d said?

Through the window, I could see the full moon rising above a withering tree. I had an idea. I got dressed, carefully opened my bedroom door, and headed out.

Although it was supposed to be the darkest time of the day, the whole street was illuminated by the falling snow. I followed the clear white path past my school and the munitions factory. I turned the corner and there it was: the public security bureau.

The next morning, the entire town came for Mr. Teoh and our welcoming performance.

(Story by Evan)