Soundless(62)

Yes, I say. Cry out. Scream. Give voice to your pain. You must all do it at the same time, and you must do it . . . I pause, remembering to put it in terms they’ll understand. You must do it with great intensity. You know the vibrations you feel in your throat? You must make sure they are very intense. Make your throat . . . shake as much as you can. Do you understand?

They stare at me in confusion, but one little girl bravely steps forward. I understand.

Her mother draws her back and asks, To what end? What can this possibly do? We are lost.

No, I say adamantly. We are not. I can’t explain what this will do, but you must trust me that it will work. It is our best shot at salvation—but it is imperative we all work together.

I work my way through the group, passing on the message. Looking across the clearing, I see Li Wei doing the same thing, discreetly signing so as not to attract the guards’ attention. It looks like he’s met with the same reaction. Most of the people are scared and skeptical that this bizarre request can accomplish anything. Yet, at the same time, they are desperate and see no hope around them and so are willing to take any chance offered to them, no matter how farfetched.

Trust me, I say for what feels like the hundredth time. This will work if we do it together. Put all your emotion into it—all your hope and fear, all your doubt and faith.

That particular word choice seems to resonate with the woman I’m currently speaking to. She nods, blinking back tears. Probably all she has left at this point are her emotions; giving voice to them, even if she can’t hear it, is all she can do. As I turn from her to see if there’s anyone I missed in this group, a flurry of hands draws attention in my periphery. An older woman wearing the clothes of a supplier is signing furiously.

It’s her! Fei! The one who started all this, she says. A few people near her do double takes, looking me over and starting with recognition.

Did she? asks another woman flatly. It seems to me it’s the township that started all this long ago.

Only if you believe her lies! exclaims the first woman. Someone call the guards over here! No doubt they are looking for her. If we turn her over, they will let the rest of us go!

Have you lost your wits along with everything else? I demand. They aren’t letting any of us go! They are going to work us all to death in order to deplete the mines. They’re starting with the strongest over there. When they’re wiped out, they’ll make us labor in their place. This plan—crying out as one—is our only hope.

But the woman who first recognized me is no longer paying attention. Unable to rally an immediate supporter, she has gone seeking a soldier herself. She finds one and tugs his sleeve, making signs he doesn’t understand. Irritated, he pushes her away, but she is insistent and resorts to simplified gestures, pointing at me through the crowd. The soldier regards me with a puzzled look. He doesn’t understand why she’s singling me out, but I am no longer beneath the soldiers’ notice. I wanted to stay incognito, but that moment has passed. The soldier enters the throng of women and begins working his way toward me.

Looking across the grounds outside the mines, I search for Li Wei over in his group. They are being herded toward the mine’s entrance, and I see Li Wei looking for me as well. It must be now, he signs to me, holding his hands high.

I nod in agreement and turn to Zhang Jing. The soldier has almost reached us. Now, I say, making my signs big and high. Now! Everyone cry out!

At first, the only voice I hear is my own. I put all my emotion into it, everything I’ve been carrying around for so long. I include my love for Zhang Jing and Li Wei in it, my grief for my parents, my fear for my village. The sound vibrates not just in my throat but through my whole body, sending waves of emotion radiating through me. I feel it on every level, with all my senses, and then I hear another cry echoing my own. It is Zhang Jing, raising a voice she cannot hear and filling it with the same emotional intensity that is burning within me. Beside her, another woman joins in. Then another. And another.

The soldier comes to a halt, looking around in bewilderment. He loses his interest in me and instead tries to figure out what is happening. The other soldiers on the grounds are equally perplexed. The sound has spread from person to person, in both my group and Li Wei’s. For those of us with hearing, it is both spectacular and heart-wrenching. My people have no idea how much grief they are conveying.

In my chest, I feel that faint fluttering of connection, and my excitement grows. It is working! We are being heard! I lift my hands and signal to those around me: More! More! Make it more intense—more vibrations! Tell others! They spread the message, and it ripples through the crowd. Looking over the heads of those near me, I can make out Li Wei urging on those around him as well. The voices grow louder, and I raise mine, calling out to the pixiu who has chosen me to help us. I feel another hard tug in my chest—but see no other immediate signs that this is working.

The guards, however, are starting to react. They don’t understand what’s happening, but they don’t like it. They begin saying things to us, the same command repeated, and my guess is they are demanding silence. The prisoners defy them—at least at first—and continue the cry. This angers some of the soldiers, and they start to resort to violence. The soldier near me cuffs a woman so hard, she falls to her knees. That startles a few others nearby into silence.

I raise my voice louder to compensate, urging others to do so, and the connection within me burns more brightly. The intensity is so great that it almost seems impossible for me to contain. It grows and grows—and then, abruptly, it seems to vanish. It’s almost like the sensation of a bubble growing bigger and bigger before bursting. I’m unsure what has happened, but I only let my voice falter a moment before continuing on more loudly than before.