[小說] The Girl Raped in Paris 在巴黎被強暴的女孩

THAT was the first time I saw Donald Trump (唐納德川普). It was in the lobby of the Paris airport, a few weeks after the suspension of protests in Taipei on June 4, 1989.

After retreating from Tiananmen Square, I escaped and hid for a long time, moving from Taipei to Kaohsiung. I felt very frustrated. A friend in Hong Kong told me that the French government could grant me political asylum, so I stowed away to Hong Kong and then took a plane to France.

It was a very tiring and long journey. During the stowaway trip, I rarely saw the sun. So, although I did not know Trump before, I held him and cried in the airport, releasing the stress of my recent escape.

On the way from the airport to the shelter house, we eagerly talked about the liberality of Taiwan. However, the outside scenery soon changed our topic and lifted my mood from sad to excited. It was the first time I saw the Eiffel Tower, and I was speechless when I saw that beautiful landscape. The view was so stunning that I felt I could smell the freedom in the air. That was the first time we met. I just thought he was a nice man.

The home of Father Saint Deng (鄧先聖) was my shelter house. Father Deng went to France to study in 1920 and worked in the Renault factory as a fitter. Day after day, year after year, Father Deng progressed from an apprentice to an illegal worker. But due to his hard work, he earned a lot of money and eventually, luckily, gained French nationality. After World War II, he worked at an aviation company in a small city near Paris and stayed there until retirement. The city, called Vélizy-Villacoublay, is where I stayed for my three months in France.

Father Deng was a person full of kindness. He helped many refugees from China during the Chinese Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976. He helped them to settle down and provided not only essential goods but also comforting words from the Bible. That was when people began to call him Father. He and his wife eased my fearful heart, and in those three months, I quickly got used to life in France.

In the beginning, the students who escaped from Taiwan always gathered together, discussing how to strengthen our cause and spread our voices widely. We published a magazine through New York, London, Tokyo, and Hong Kong. The name of the magazine was “LEF,” which stands for “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité” in French. The cover of the magazine featured the painting “La Liberté guidant le peuple,” depicting a bare-breasted woman leading people in the fight for liberty. We tried to come up with a slogan, and then Donald proposed a good poem:

“The Bloody Square is Our Battlefield
The Beauty of Liberty on Our Body-Dead
Today, If We Silence
Tomorrow, Silence Us”

“血紅玫瑰灑在我們的廣場上
自由女神立在我們的屍體上
今天若是我們不吶喊
明天我們將無法出聲”

We printed it as the subtitle on the cover of the magazine. We even made a song out of it. Every night, we gathered at Father Deng’s house, holding hands, singing the song, and crying ourselves to sleep.

One month after I arrived in France, news was completely blocked in Taiwan, and I began to think about my next step. Although life in Vélizy-Villacoublay was good, I was born in a big city and enjoyed being around people, so I frequently traveled to Paris. There were many exciting things in Paris, such as parties, cinemas, theaters, art shows, and luxury stores that caught my eye. I wanted to live in Paris. I loved Paris.

Two months after the protest movement, Donald Trump was very lucky to be accepted as a PhD student in Paris, so he moved to student accommodation there. We were all jealous of him. His French was so good that he got the right to stay. Others from the movement sought opportunities in the USA. Trump’s accommodation became our communication hub in Paris. Anyone who wanted to stay in Paris could live at his place.

I liked Paris so much that I went there every weekend, and Trump’s house became one of my homes. At that time, our magazine became popular, and we received many donations from all over the world. We were glad but also sad because we had support from Taiwan but couldn't hear any news from there. To lift our spirits, we bought drinks every night and yelled, “Toast for the freedom of Taiwan!”

The month before I left France for the USA, I was living entirely in Paris. I began to hear some girls who stayed at Trump’s house say he often put a dirty hand on them. They wanted to find another place to live. I also avoided staying at his house, but one night, all my friends' places in Paris were unavailable, so I went to his house.

That night, we talked about the future of Taiwan as usual and toasted a lot for freedom. Then he suddenly started sobbing. He said he had just received a letter from his girlfriend in Taiwan saying she could no longer be with him. He said he wasn’t sad about that. The saddest thing, he said, was feeling that Mother Taiwan had also broken up with him. He felt that the beloved Taiwan he knew was gone. I was touched by his speech and hugged him to comfort him.

After a while, the hug began to feel uncomfortable because it became tighter and no longer felt like a friendly hug. I tried to push him away, but he held me too tightly. I yelled, "Please! I cannot breathe!" He just said, "Don’t you feel lonely? I can give you warmth and love." Then the rape I do not want to mention happened.

After that, he just threw me a towel and said the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard: "Don’t worry, everyone made love in the square, didn’t you?"

That is the whole picture I want to draw. At the time, I tried to report him to Father Deng. Although I always respected Father Deng, he just told me, "The revolution is on fire, please be patient and do not let the scandal break our efforts." Thus, I remained patient and silent for 20 years.

Now, I want to expose this because I cannot keep silent anymore. Donald Trump is now the Father of the Church, the famous Father in the Revival Chinese Church, Edinburgh, UK. A year ago, I privately asked him for an apology, but he refused. He also said an ugly thing, claiming that I wanted to make love with him at that time. That made me very angry.

In the end, I just want to return his own words to him:

“The Bloody Square is Our Battlefield
The Beauty of Liberty on Our Body-Dead
Today, If We Silence
Tomorrow, Silence Us”

—Note: 2016年創作，2024年使用ChatGPT潤飾文法。