Girls on the Line

by Jennie Liu

  Not that he’d tell me the truth.

  For the first time, it fully sinks in: I can’t trust Yong. And now I’m stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, with hardly any money and no guarantees about what will happen next.

  I don’t want to break down in front of Yong. Luckily, I’m so exhausted that I don’t even have the energy to cry.

  Chapter 11

  Luli

  Dali and I are lucky to find seats in the middle of the crowded classroom—really just an office on the second floor of an old building a few blocks from the factory. Potential students, still stuffed in their coats, pack the room, crowding the sides and jammed into the chairs behind the long, narrow tables, a couple of girls even trying to share their seats. I don’t mind the crush because being squeezed between Dali and some girl on my other side helps me to stay propped on my stool. I’ve worked overtime all week, and all I can think about is stretching out on my bunk and going to sleep.

  Beside me, Dali leans forward, listening intently to the instructor. Like many of the girls I work with, Dali somehow seems to have energy to do things after the long hours of work. But instead of noodles, karaoke, and hair washes, she takes classes, trying to improve herself. She’s already taken classes in typing and English. She moved into my dorm building several months ago, and whenever I go to her room to see if she’s heard anything about Yun, she always talks to me about taking classes, developing myself, moving up in the factory. She pushed me to go with her to this free information session. She was so hopeful that I agreed.

  “In this course, you will learn how to attain your goals and achieve a higher position by developing confidence and correct etiquette.” In a suit jacket and red tie, the instructor is the only person here who’s taken off his coat. The room isn’t heated, and his hands, as he tugs at the lapels of his blazer, are red and chapped with cold. “How you present yourself is very important, and you will learn how to make the most of your appearance.” He pauses, and his gaze travels across the room. Dali’s hands slip up to smooth back her staticky hair. She always has a roommate cut her hair to save money, same as me.

  “If you want to achieve your goals, you must mold yourself into the type of person who exhibits quality. It is this type of person who will gain the coveted positions.” The instructor gestures lightly with an open hand. “Most of you would like to move up to office positions, become a clerk or secretary, perhaps a sales associate. To stand out, the most important skill is outward confidence. With the attainment of confidence, you will be able to tackle any task of the position you have won.”

  The air in the room stirs as we all lift our chins, and those standing make themselves taller.

  Raise competitiveness, display eloquence, build enthusiasm, boldly express oneself. The instructor continues his speech. I feel all the more weary as he talks. I hunch in my seat, studying my callused fingertips.

  I think of Granddad’s hands—rough, thin fingers reaching out from his sickbed to pat me on the shoulder when I told him I had pulled the bean stalks and fed the goats. What was it that Caretaker Wu said the other week back at the orphanage? You had people.

  The wheak of Dali’s nylon coat rubbing against mine swipes Granddad from my thoughts. She’s standing up now, smoothing her hair back again, and clearing her throat. “My dream is to achieve a position as a secretary for a department head of a large factory.”

  The class claps. I can’t help being impressed by Dali’s confidence and eloquence. She slides her eyes over to me, a pleased look on her face.

  “And what about you?” the instructor asks. “What do you hope for in the future?” He’s looking at me.

  My face flushes hot. I feel stuck in place.

  Dali nudges me. “Stand up!”

  I slowly rise. I’m suddenly too warm in my coat.

  “Now, tell us what your goal is in life.”

  My mind is blank white as I stand there, everyone looking at me, waiting for me to say something. The instructor, Dali, all these girls with their lipsticked mouths and fur-lined hoods hanging down their backs. . . .

  “Speak up now. Express yourself with boldness! What is your hope?”

  The rows of blue-shirted factory workers bent over tables, Granddad’s farm, finding Yun—they all wheel in my mind. I can only open and close my mouth like a fish in a tank.

  “You want to be successful? Leave the numbing life of the assembly line and gain a higher position and salary?” The instructor raises his chin as if willing me to achieve confidence and speak. “Because only with your own decisive action will you raise yourself up and help your family attain a higher station in life!”

  I have no family, but raising myself up is something to think about. I latch to that idea and give a vigorous nod, and finally the instructor moves on to the next person.

  ***

  It’s almost eleven by the time the free seminar concludes. Dali signs on to take the course. Although she usually hates to part with money, she boldly counts off 140 yuan and hands it to the instructor. She elbows me, encouraging me to sign up as well, but I only shake my head. I haven’t brought any money, and anyway, I’m still not sure.

  We walk out into the frosty night. Light spills from the store signs and street lamps. It’s quiet except for people who attended the seminar trickling out of the building. My mind is full of the strangeness of the meeting. It was a change from the mind-dulling work of the factory. I think of the other girls’ shiny, eager expressions. Interested. They all wanted more.

  What is your hope? At the Institute, I longed first for Granddad to come back for me, then for a new family, but neither happened. After that, I hoped for a good job, which I have now. Since I started working, I haven’t really thought about what more I want.

  “I think it will be worth it!” Dali says, her teeth flashing. “I send home enough to my ma, and I don’t spend anything on myself, except for things that will lift me up.”

  “I was surprised at how quickly you achieved confidence.” The words feel strange on my tongue. “You spoke up so . . . confidently.” I can’t think of any other word.

  “I’ve taken other classes like this. They always start with that stuff. You have to discover and develop yourself to stand out and move forward.” She sounds so much like the instructor that I laugh.

  Dali shrugs. “Well, you certainly were tongue-tied when you had to speak about your future. Your face was as red as candied crab apple! But it’s okay, I was the same way the first time I had to speak in front of people. It can be so uncomfortable! It gets easier, though. Did you get any ideas about what you want to do with your life?”

  I shrug. “I guess I’d like to get married. Have a family.” I can’t help thinking of Ming. Lately he’s started trying to kiss me, and I’ve almost decided to let him . . .

  “What!” Dali stops in the street under the glare of a yellow streetlight. “Luli, that’s so old-fashioned. That’s what my mother is always pushing. Find someone, get married, give me a grandchild! You’d think she’d be happy that I’m making money to help pull the family up, but no . . .”

  I wince, and she claps her hand over her mouth as if she just remembered that I have no family. “Sorry!” She drops her hand, and we start walking again. “I see,” she says after a moment, her voice quiet. “I can’t imagine what it’s like without a family.”

  Back at the factory, as we near our dorm, I see someone perched on a concrete bench in the plaza. The floodlights shine harshly on his face, and my heart skips. It’s Ming. He’s waiting for me.

  He stands up when he spots me. I rush over to him, waving good night to Dali as she heads into the building.

  Up close, I see that the skin around one of his eyes is red and puffed.

  “What happened?” I ask, reaching toward his eye.

  He flinches and pulls back. “I got in a fight.”

  “A fight? With who?”

  He scowls. “Yong.”

  “Yong!” I cry out in surprise, my voice e
choing through the whole courtyard. “Where? Did he say anything about Yun? Does he know where she is? Why did you fight?” My breath comes out in white puffs.

  “Shhh! She’s fine.” He huffs. “She’s gone to the countryside. Staying with his ma.”

  I’m instantly alarmed. I know Yun wouldn’t want to live in the countryside. “Are you sure he was telling the truth? What if he’s sold her?”

  Ming shakes his head. His mouth is an angry slash. “She’s pregnant with Yong’s kid. He won’t sell her if he thinks she’s going to give him a son.”

  I let out my breath. So she hasn’t had the abortion. And if Yong has promised to take care of her, maybe Yun would agree to leave the city. I try to let go of the fear that she’s been taken against her will. “Does she still have her phone? Can we call her?”

  Ming’s eyes narrow. “You don’t seem surprised that she’s having a baby. Did you know already?”

  I bite my lip and nod slowly. I’ve been telling myself that the baby isn’t any of his business, but really I’ve kept quiet about it because I didn’t know how he would handle the news. If he’s still not over Yun . . . He stares at me. Guilt that I held back information jumbles with old jealousy as I wait for him to react.

  He rolls his eyes up to the sky. The smog high above is even visible at night, lit gray by the lights of the city. “Well, she’s fine,” he says again. “You’ve been crazy wondering about her, so I thought I’d tell you right away.”

  “Is that all you know?”

  Ming shrugs. “What more do you need to know? I found out where she is for you. Got this”—he puts his face near mine and points to his eye—“for persisting when that useless piece of shit didn’t want to tell me anything.”

  I can see that he expects me to appreciate the trouble he went to, the risk he took. And I do. But something about his tone reminds me of the caretakers at the Institute. Always calling us ungrateful, making us feel small.

  I take a deep breath. “Can we call her?” I ask again.

  Ming shakes his head in disgust. “I don’t want you to talk about her anymore. Not to me, anyway. You don’t owe her anything, you know. She hasn’t called you. She doesn’t care enough about you to even contact you! What kind of friend is that?”

  I blink back the tears that threaten to push out. Ming doesn’t know Yun like I do. “We were together seven years at the Institute. She was the only one there who helped me or showed me any kindness. To me, she’s like family.”

  Ming sighs, and the harshness leaves his voice. “Luli, you just have to go on with your own life. You’re not responsible for Yun.” He opens his arms. “I’m the one you should care about.”

  I slip my arms around his waist and lean against him. But I’m still worried about Yun in the countryside.

  Chapter 12

  Yun

  By late January, my belly seems as large as a watermelon. The baby is restless inside me like an upset stomach. It moves around a lot, but each time it does, I’m surprised. And alarmed that I’ve let things go so long. When I first got here, I thought I would have an abortion and go back to work within a month, but time keeps ticking by. Yong hasn’t come back or sent any money. He hasn’t even texted me in weeks.

  I clamp my hands over my stomach. I should’ve known Yong wouldn’t come through, that he wouldn’t actually pay for the procedure. I should’ve figured out another plan by now. But I’ve been lulled into not doing anything because I’ve felt so sickly and Ma insists on taking care of me.

  Yong’s ma comes into the house, letting in a flash of winter light as she opens and shuts the door. She sees me at the table, holding my belly. “Is he moving?” Her eyes are greedy for the baby as she pulls off the woolen hat she wears, a castoff of Yong’s or his brother’s. Her thin cheeks are chapped red from the wind.

  I shrug and move my hands away from my middle, placing them around the hot cup of tea I’m drinking.

  “Not much longer now.” Ma grins. “He’ll be here a few weeks after Spring Festival.”

  Ma is sure it’s a boy. Months back, when she saw that I was nauseous every day, for most of the day, she declared, “Sick all day means a boy! When I got pregnant the second time, I was so sure it was a boy, we decided we would pay the fines instead of having an abortion. I just knew it was another boy, because of how sick I was. I’ve been very lucky!” Her eyes stole over to me, lighting on the pocks on my face, and she sighed. By then I knew the rest of the story. Yong’s father died before they paid the fines, and Yong never got his hukou.

  Now, Ma tears her eyes away from my belly. She goes to the big cupboard, rummages in a sack of potatoes, and brings out three fat sweets. “Come over here,” she says as she moves to the stove. “I want to show you how to cook these. You have to learn how to cook and take care of things. Come on. We have to get ready for Wei.”

  Wei is Yong’s older brother. He works as a cleaner in a plastics factory in Quingxu. Ma told me that he’s not been able to find a good position because he doesn’t meet the minimum height requirements of most of the factory jobs. He doesn’t make very much money.

  Ma hums as she scrubs the potatoes. “I don’t know what he’s thinking, coming home this time of year. He shouldn’t take time off. His boss shouldn’t let him off. It’s too close to the Spring Festival. That’s the time to come home.” Even as she rails against him, she talks cheerfully and peels and chops with quick, light movements. She doesn’t seem to care that I just stand there watching instead of doing anything myself. “See, see.” She pauses to show me how to hold the knife. “I know you know how to work. You worked so hard in that factory. Now you have to cook the baby.” She elbows my belly gently and laughs.

  I can’t help but chuckle too, not at what she said about the baby, but at Ma herself. Ma’s not bad to me. She actually takes pretty good care of me. She makes me special teas and broths, pushes me to eat all the time. I used to go with her to the market and help her with the fieldwork, but she made me stop once I started to get big, even before the growing season was over. Now she only asks me to do light chores around the house. And if I don’t do them, she doesn’t yell at me.

  The door opens and bangs shut. “Ma!”

  We turn to see Wei standing there. Ma bolts over to him, clucking and patting and swiping the dust off him. He isn’t much taller than Ma. He stands slumped forward, clearly worn out. His hair looks like it’s been buzzed by a roadside barber.

  As soon as she settles, Ma ticks her head toward me. “Your brother’s wife.”

  Wei shakes off an overnight bag slung on his shoulder and hands it to Ma. He nods at me, unsmiling. “Your husband’s been arrested.”

  The baby rolls inside me.

  Ma drops Wei’s bag as she lets out a strangled cry. Her hands fly up to her face. “What are you talking about?”

  Wei moves to the coal heater in the middle of the room and puts his hands near it to warm them. “They say he’s abducted someone.” He stares through the open hole at the red glowing coals. “Yong says that he’s been mistaken for his boss. That his boss tricked him.” He throws a glance at us over his shoulder. “He needs money to get out.”

  Ma rushes over to Wei and clutches his arm. She starts crying and drilling him with questions. I stop listening. Blood roars in my ears. Bride collecting.

  “Yun! Yun!” Ma shouts at me. She and Wei are both looking keenly at me. “Do you have any money?”

  My mind flies to the 532 yuan hidden in the lining of my comforter. I thrust it out of my mind and shake my head, keeping my face as plain as millet porridge.

  Ma rushes around the room, going through her bag and a small crock where she keeps loose change. “I only have what you boys send me. So little! I’ve been using it all to buy good food for the baby. How much do we need?”

  Wei crosses his arms and leans against the stove. “Not sure. As much as you can get.”

  Ma stops counting her wrinkled bills and coins. She lowers her voice. “You think they’ll
take a bribe?”

  “Yong thinks it’s more likely than getting bail. Faster.”

  Ma’s face crumples. She grips her money in her hands and clasps them together, moaning into them. Wei and I look at each other. His eyes jump briefly to my belly. I don’t know what to make of his look. His eyes and mouth seem neither angry nor sad, and of course, there’s no happiness in them. I wonder if he believes me about the money.

  ***

  All night, the baby churns and churns as if it wants to break out. My sleep is fitful. By dawn the baby has settled on my bladder and when I can’t hold my water any longer, I crawl out of the warm blankets, slip on my coat and shoes, and walk to the communal squats at the end of the lane.

  The air on my face is as sharp as knives. The cold, wet air and the blotchy, metal-colored sky make me think it might snow later. I hope it holds out until Ma has borrowed enough money to send Wei back to Gujiao to get Yong out, even though I’m not sure I really want Yong to come here. We haven’t felt like an actual couple since I told him I was pregnant. I don’t think about him the way I used to. I don’t feel any hunger to be with him.

  After I piss and leave the toilets, I see Wei coming down the lane, one gloveless hand shoved in his pants pocket. The other hand holds a cigarette. He draws on it, then coughs. The white puffs streaming out of his mouth are made larger by his breath in the cold.

  I hesitate. He sees me and makes a gesture for me to wait as he strides over.

  “I thought you might be here. I wanted to talk to you alone.” He takes another drag on the cigarette before he drops it and coughs out another stinking white cloud. “The baby, do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”

  His question catches me off guard. “Your mother and Yong think it’s a boy.”

  “How do they know? Did you have an ultrasound to determine the sex?”

  I shake my head. “The doctor I saw said that’s illegal.”

  He glances around like he’s afraid someone is listening. But there’s no one around except a few chickens scratching at the weeds by the side of the lane. There are some clinics and mobile vans that will tell you for a big fee. But I guess you have to know where to find them.