China Dream

I had a dream last night. I dream often, but this one was very vivid, so I thought I would try to write it down. It’s interesting how, as I understand it, a single dream may only last a few seconds yet when trying to describe it in words, one would think it had lasted much longer.

Location: China
Timeframe: Approx. 2020
Character: Chen-wi, 84 years old

Chen-wi was having tea at the teahouse beside the river with 3 other older members of the village. They were discussing how the village came about and how it was not as enjoyable as their previous home. It had been constructed to house the people who had to be relocated, to facilitate the building of the great dam. They had lived in a small village of 800 people, where as their new neighbors numbered more than 20,000, still very small by Chinese standards. The government had forced them to abandon the home where they and their ancestors had lived for hundreds of years, to make room for the huge reservoir that would be created by the dam.

Their new village was located 10 miles downriver of the dam, in a valley with high cliffs about one mile from each side of what was now a narrow and placid river. The valley had become a prosperous agricultural area, due to the controlled flow of water provided by the dam, to irrigate the fields without the floods that had made the valley uninhabitable in the past. For this, Chen-wi and the other older men were grateful, however one could never forget the past, and the past is always more pleasant in memory than it had truly been.

The old men were fortunate to have had numerous children. Between the four of them they had 20 children, who now supported them and their wives, except Chen-wi whose four children had only to look after their father, as his wife had died of illness eight years ago. They often discussed what would happen to their children when they reached this age, since the government had forbidden them to have more than one child. However, on this day, they were talking about the amazing things that had happened since the dam was constructed, such as the lights that lit their homes and the intriguing television that their children and grandchild watched so often.

When the telephone in the teahouse rang, the proprietor answered and handed the telephone to Chen-wi, saying, “it is your eldest son”. Chen-wi had seldom used a telephone, as there was no one other than the people he saw daily in the village that he needed or wished to talk to, and he was puzzled as to why his son, who worked at the dam, would wish to talk to him now. It’s true that all his children knew he would be at the teahouse at this time of day, but why a telephone, this was very unusual, and the other men were curious as well. Chen-wi put the device to his ear and said “yes?”, but there was no response. He asked again, but still no answer, so he handed the device back to the proprietor with a shrug of his shoulders.

It was time now for Chen-wi to leave the teahouse to tend to his flowers, as he always did at ten o’clock in the morning. He stood to leave, bowing to the proprietor and his companions. As he was walking from the garden of the teahouse, the proprietor’s dog rose from his resting place beside the fish pond and began to whimper as if in pain, and then to bark as though an intruder were approaching. The men still seated, exchanged glances and knowingly prepared themselves. They had experienced this many times in their lives, first the animals would react to something only they could sense, and then the earthquake would arrive. Most often, the quakes were minor, but occasionally they had been severe. Each of the men had lost friends and loved ones to the landslides that followed the big quakes.

When the saucers and teacups began to rattle, the men stood to brace themselves for what they feared may happen. As expected, the ground began to move, but not violently just a slight rowing motion. The tremor lasted less than a minute and subsided. The men smiled and sat to resume their tea and conversation, knowing the actual quake had occurred some miles away and was not a threat to them.

Chen-wi returned to the table as the proprietor was adding hot water to the teapot. The men looked up and one asked “why haven’t you gone to see to your flowers?” and another added “surely a tremor such as this doesn’t frighten you”.

Chen-wi responded “the tremor is nothing and I would ignore it as I would the dark of night, if my son had not called earlier on the telephone and then was not there to answer when I spoke to him. I am concerned as to where this quake did its damage and fear it may have been at the dam where my son works”.

The other men nodded their heads understanding Chen-wi’s worry, then attempting to ease his mind, assured him that if anything had happened at the dam surely someone would call to inform them.

“How would they call?” Chen-wi asked. “Without the dam there is no electricity, and without electricity, there is no telephone?”

“This is true”, one responded, “you must ask your son to explain this when he returns this evening”.

Then the dog, which had continued to pace back and forth after the tremor, began to bark again, not a whimper this time, but a bark of alarm. The men looked at one another and prepared for another tremor. There was no tremor, but instead, a noise they had never heard before.

The noise became louder and louder and then was mixed with cries of terror from people outside the teahouse. The three men rose from their seats as Chen-wi walked to the terrace overlooking the river to see what was happening.

When he looked upriver, he saw a wall of water 30 meters high that stretched from cliff to cliff across their valley. He saw trees, boulders, homes and people being engulfed and swept away, and he realized that he and all in the village, including his sons, daughters, and grandchildren would suffer the same fate.

They would all die this day.