One Hundred Kilometers—A Distance That Is Too Far

到了晚年，爸爸癡了，憨了。他什麼都忘了。

Everything has eluded my father, being in his dotage.

他總是問我：「女兒啊，我是民國哪一年到台灣來的？我是怎麼來的？

He always asks me, “Sweetie, when did I come to Taiwan? What’s the year? How?”」

但是，他卻從來不忘記責備自己，在民國37年初沒有回老家。他總是呆望著天空，喃喃自語：

But he never forgot to blame himself for not returning to his hometown in early 1948. Gazing into the sky, he always murmured,

「民國37年初，我到了濟南，離老家聊城就只有二百里地，為什麼……為什麼……我沒進去看看哪？

“In early 1948, I came to Jinan, only a hundred kilometers from my hometown of Liaochen. How come I didnt go visit my old folks there?”」

在抗日戰爭外地流亡十年一直沒回過家的爸爸，為什麼來到聊城門口的濟南沒見到父母呢？從小到大我聽爸爸一再的解釋，所得到的答案是抗戰勝利不久，聊城就被共軍包圍了，雙方經過一年多的浴血奮戰，聊城才被共軍解放，開始清算地主、霸占土地，所以曾去四川念書被列為「重慶分子」的爸爸，若返鄉會帶給他父母更多的災難。

He had roamed around everywhere outside but his hometown throughout the Sino-Japanese War for ten years, why didnt he visit his parents in Liaochen even though he had already reached the adjacent Jinan? He always explained that Liaochen had been under PLA siege soon after V-J Day came and was liberated by Communist forces after more than a year’s bloody battle. Then the Communists started implementing land reform, purging landlords and confiscating their properties. Because during the war Father studied in Nationalist territory, he was regarded as a reactionary “Chongqing advocate”, a label that would bring additional trouble to his parents if he came home.

正在他猶豫不決時，傳來膠濟鐵路即將被共軍攔腰切斷的消息，再拖延他將回不了青島──那兒有他的工作，還有他熱戀中的我媽媽。因此他一步一回頭地跳上了回青島的火車，以為改天再來看他父母。

In his hesitation, word came that PLA would soon cut off the railroad connection between Jinan and Qingdao, where he had a job, and a lady he was passionately in love with—my mother. He ran and kept looking back until he finally caught the train heading to Qingdao. He thought he would someday come back and see his parents again.

誰知道，誰知道，這一錯過，竟成永別。他隨後跟著國民政府來到台灣，從此沒再見過父母一面，造成他一生椎心的痛。

Who knew? Not before long he came to Taiwan with the Nationalist Government, and the missed opportunity had become the forever parting with his parents, which engendered a lifetime trauma deep-rooted in his heart.

這是我所知道的原因。但三年前，我把爸爸山東聊城老家裡唯一活著的親人，我的姑姑，接來台灣後，才知道故事還有另外的版本。

That was the reason that I was told. Not until three years ago, when I invited the fathers only living relative, his sister, to Taiwan, did I know the story had another version.

姑姑說，爸爸當年沒見到父母家人，還有一個我們從來不知道的因素，是爸爸不知如何處理、如何面對一個他並不愛的鄉下元配劉金娥。

The aunt said there had been another reason, which we never knew, that made Father miss the reunion: he could not deal with an intractable problem, which was how to face his first wife, Liu Jin-e, a country girl he didn’t love.

爸爸是兩代單傳的獨子，所以在十四歲時，父母就作主替他娶了年紀比他大好多又不識字的妻子劉金娥。父親並不想接受這樣的安排，但溫順的他只有藉求學念書之故，一直在外地住宿來逃避劉金娥。抗日戰爭爆發，爸爸流亡大江南北，沒機會再回家了

My father, like my grandfather, was the only boy in the family. When he was only fourteen, his parents arranged for him to marry a much older, illiterate wife, Liu Jin-e. Father did not want to accept the arrangement, but the only way to evade Liu for an obedient son like him was to enter boarding school. When the Sino-Japanese War broke out, Father wandered everywhere, from town to town, having had no opportunity to go home.

勝利後，因為聊城被共軍包圍，爸爸有家歸不得，就滯留在青島女中教書，在那兒他認識了在教務處工作的一位新女性，我的媽媽。他們一起打乒乓球、一起談詩、論詞，因為年齡相近、興趣相投，兩人的感情迅速發展成熟。所以爸爸在民國37年兼程由青島趕去濟南，打算回鄉稟告父母，他想和我的母親結婚的打算。誰知才到濟南，有位堂兄專程從聊城送口信來，說家裡的田產、糊口的工具全部被共產黨充公，以後的日子怎麼過，老人家完全沒把握，想把媳婦劉金娥送到濟南，請爸爸趁天下尚未大亂時，把她帶在身邊，這樣才算對已經守了多年活寡的劉金娥有個交代

After V-J Day, the siege of Liaochen deterred my father from going home and held him up at Qingdao. Sojourning there, he found a teaching job at Qingdao Girls’ High School, where he met my mother, a so-called modern woman, who was working at the dean’s office. They were similar in age and shared common interests—they played table tennis and discussed poems and verses; their affection for each other rapidly matured. In early 1948, Father hastened to Jinan from Qingdao, trying to go home and tell his parents that he planned to marry my mother. Unexpectedly, after he arrived in Jinan, his cousin, who especially brought him a message from his old folks, said the communists had confiscated all of the family’s properties: lands, tools, and utensils. The old folks were entirely unsure about how to get by in the future, so they intended to send their daughter-in-law, Liu Jin-e, to Jinan, hoping my father would take her with him before the situation further deteriorated, to take care of the long-time quasi-widowed Liu.

事情的發展完全出乎爸爸的預料，本性溫和善良但有些懦弱又怕麻煩的爸爸，不敢違背父母旨意，又不願接納劉金娥，在倉促間選擇踏上回青島的火車，以為先拖延一下，再慢慢考慮劉金娥的問題。

This development was against all of my father’s expectations. Naturally mild and kind, but weak and averse to conflicts, Father neither dared to disobey his parents’ will nor wanted to take Liu, so in haste, he opted to take the returning train to Qingdao. He thought he would put off the matter first, hoping to revisit it later.

誰都沒想到，他這個在兵荒馬亂、煙塵瀰漫的情況下做的決定，造成大家終生的遺憾。

He never thought the decision made under such tumultuous circumstances would result in indelible regrets for everybody concerned.

爸爸離開家鄉後不到兩年，姑姑就嫁作人婦離開自己的娘家，娘家父母只有靠劉金娥來伺候、照顧了。

Less than two years after my father left, my aunt got married and moved out of her parents’ home, so the old folks relied on Liu for care.

在共產制度下，爺爺、奶奶與劉金娥都住在人民公社裡，1964年，爺爺因嚴重胃出血，嚥不下公家配給的雜糧，在食堂裡工作的劉金娥就偷一大瓢給高幹吃的白米飯，用報紙包著放在懷裡，趁午休時跑兩里路回家孝敬爺爺。她這一跑就是五年，直到1969年爺爺去世為止。爺爺沒見著幾代單傳的獨子，死時不能瞑目。

Under Communist rule, my grandparents and Liu lived in the people’s commune. In 1964, the grandfather was afflicted with severe gastric bleeding, unable to swallow the allocated ration made of coarser grains. Liu, then working at the public canteen, stole a ladleful of rice, the specialty for cadre members, and hid it in her bosom. At noon, she ran a kilometer back to feed Grandfather every day. She had been doing this for five years until my grandfather died in 1969. Eventually, my grandfather didn’t see his only son on his deathbed; he died with regrets.

七○年代大陸土改失敗，再加上長年的旱災，農村裡簡直沒東西吃了。姑姑因為有台灣關係，身分不好，又連生了五個女娃兒，遭夫家嫌棄，把她給休了以劃清界線。過年時，她帶著五個孩子回娘家。劉金娥看到一群小蝗蟲來，嚇得她趕快把為奶奶做的幾個白麵饅頭，裝到布袋裡，高高升起，掛在屋梁上，讓姑姑那群小孩，誰都拿不到，只有乾瞪眼的份兒。劉金娥把我們的奶奶視為她的親娘，永遠擺在第一順位。

The failed land reform of the 1970s, coupled with a lengthy drought, led to a food shortage on the farmland. Because my aunt had a Taiwan “connection” which made her “a bad factor”, as well as having given birth to five daughters consecutively without a male heir, her husband and his family disdained her and finally divorced her to distance themselves. On the Lunar New Year, my aunt went to her parents’ home, bringing all five girls. The sight of a swarm of “locusts” scared Liu to hide steamed buns made of wheat flour, prepared for my grandmother only, into a cloth bag and hoist the bag high up onto the beam to keep it away from the reach of the guests. My aunt and her kids could do nothing except yearn for them. Liu always prioritized my grandmother over all others, treating her as if she were her mother.

1979年奶奶嚥氣前，一直相信她的獨子還活著，千叮嚀萬囑咐，要劉金娥一定得守在蔡家等我爸爸回來。其實不需要奶奶叮囑，在蔡家已經四十五年的劉金娥，壓根兒就沒打算再邁出蔡家大門一步。

Before her last breath in 1979, Grandmother had always believed that my father, her only son, was still alive. She repeatedly urged Liu to stay close to the family until my father’s eventual return. Liu Jin-e had been with the family for forty-five years, and the last thing for her to do was to go anywhere beyond Cai’s gate.

爺爺、奶奶都死了後，劉金娥因為沒有一兒半女，晚年就更淒涼，跟著一個侄子，過起寄人籬下的日子。

After my grandparents’ deaths, Liu lived under an even more restrictive circumstance in her latter days because she had no children to lean on; thus, she had to live off a nephew of hers.

後來爸爸雖然暗地裡經常寄錢給她，以彌補多年對她的虧欠。但姑姑說，寄去的錢劉金娥無權支配，都被侄子拿去蓋房子、娶媳婦用了。所以晚年劉金娥的日子過得非常拮据，她去世前把唯一一件像樣的棉襖送給姑姑。姑姑在袖口裡發現有個暗袋，裡面放著劉金娥一生最後的一點私房錢，才不過數百人民幣，但她瞞著身邊的人，把這最後一點心意，留給夫家唯一的親人，我們的姑姑。

According to my aunt, although my father secretly sent her some money, partly to atone for the things he had never done for her, she had no say on how to spend that money. It was Liu’s nephew who embezzled to pay for his new house and wedding. Therefore, Liu lived on a very tight budget in her last days. Before she died, she gave her only decent cotton-padded jacket away to my aunt. Auntie found a hidden pocket in the cuff of the sleeve; in there, Liu quilted her last personal savings, just a couple of hundred dollars. She deceived the people around her and left her only possessions on her mind to the sole person in her husband’s family: my aunt.

「這對我們蔡家貢獻最大的女人，就這樣默默結束了她的一生！」

“Then the woman who devoted herself to our family came to a quiet end like this.”

姑姑給我看一張照片，是我們以前的祖墳靈地。我看到零散的土丘在一片麥田裡，其中一個在爺爺、奶奶墳腳下比較新的小丘，有泥土做的小墓碑，上面歪歪斜斜地刻著「劉金娥」三個字，好像訴說著她那無依無靠、孤孤單單的一生。

Auntie showed me a photo of our former family graveyard. On a swathe of a wheat field, I spotted several scattered mounds, in which lay my grandparents; beside them, there was a more recent one with a small tombstone made of clay on which obliquely inscribed three characters “Liu Jin-e”, seemingly narrating her helpless and solitary life.

對我而言，劉金娥本是個陌生的女人，但聽完姑姑的描述，我默坐一旁，說不出話來，任眼淚流了再流，任內心一再地呼喚：「大娘啊！大娘啊！」

To me, Liu Jin-e was a total stranger. But after having listened to the story my aunt told, I could not utter a word while sitting aside, except letting my tears run and calling “Madam, Madam” in silence, again and again.

不知道坐在一旁的爸爸，有沒有聽懂姑姑的故事？只見他呆望著天空，喃喃自語：「民國37年，我去了濟南，離老家聊城就只有兩百里地，為什麼……為什麼……我沒進去看看哪？」

I didn’t know if Father who was also listening to the story beside us, understood it all. The only thing he was doing was gazing into the sky, murmuring, “In early 1948, I came to Jinan—only a hundred kilometers away from my hometown of Liaochen. How come, how come didn’t I go to visit my old folks there?”