by Tie Ning
After a while his talk trailed off, and with the apple in his hand, he fell asleep. Overcome by exhaustion, drowsiness, and a deep sense of defeat, he slumped down midsentence, his head falling onto Tiao’s legs. She liked pillowing his head on her legs. As she looked down at this young head fast asleep on her legs—the pink ear which looked especially innocent because of his age—her heart filled with deep gratitude. It was Mike who had offered her, so freely, the untainted love she’d never had; it was Mike who inspired her to feel confident about her life and youth, and Mike who spurred her to take action. It was his love that awakened her strong love for Chen Zai.
Oh, Mike—so sound asleep—I’ll be grateful to you all my life for everything you have done and for my not loving you.
3
Beijing Airport was always so crowded, and the expressions on the custom officials’ faces so cold. The coffee was always lukewarm, the bathroom tissues dark, and the pay phone receivers smelly. Tiao couldn’t wait to call Chen Zai before she got out of the airport. She couldn’t wait to tell him that she had returned from the States and would see him soon. When she heard his calm, deep voice on the phone, she knew that she had truly come home. The only thing she’d been thinking about all the way was that as soon as she got off the aeroplane, she could hear his voice. Now that she heard it, even the smell of the phone seemed less distasteful.
She left the airport. The air in Beijing was not very good; the sky was grey, and the cars had a light coating of dust. Everything was somewhat grimy and messy, but still it felt dirty and dear.
Dirty and dear.
She returned to Fuan, and Chen Zai phoned and asked to come to see her at her house. She didn’t let him. Usually he would go to her place, and when he was there she would complain to him about those bad patches she hit, how she was unhappy, how she failed to get elected CEO of the Publishing House, how Fan gave her a hard time, how someone who didn’t even remotely know how to write fiction got a book published through the use of powerful connections … She never treated him like a guest; he could sit wherever he liked. When he was thirsty, he’d pour himself some water, and when he was hungry, he took food out of the refrigerator himself. Once, she remembered discussing a haircut with him; she wanted to cut her shoulder-length hair short. He said, “I think you’d better not. You look pretty good this way.”
Tiao said, “All my colleagues say I would definitely look good in short hair. Why do you have to say I wouldn’t?”
Chen Zai said, “You don’t have thick hair, and cutting it short would make it look even thinner.”
“What makes you think my hair is thin? It’s your hair that’s thin.”
Chen Zai said, “Okay, okay. My hair is thin. Happy? But you still shouldn’t cut your hair.”
Tiao said, “I’m going to cut it anyway. What can you do?” She didn’t know why she had to be so unreasonable with Chen Zai, as if it were her birthright. After she got her hair cut, everyone said she looked good, but the compliment she most wanted to hear was Chen Zai’s. She’d cared about him so much and for so long, it had become a part of her consciousness.
Now he wanted to come to her place to see her, but she forbade him. She had a hunch that she was going to say something very important to him, and this very important thing made her jumpy about their meeting. She’d never felt that way about seeing him, but now she did, and it made her more nervous to think about seeing him at her home, so nervous that she felt cornered, so that she had to go out somewhere, to go out with him. In the evening, he drove to her place to pick her up, and they drove around and around Fuan in the middle of winter. Tiao said, “When I was in America this time, other than attending the conference, I also visited Texas for a few days.”
Chen Zai said, “Yes, you stayed in Mike’s home.”
Tiao said, “How did you know?”
“Fan called me.”
“She called you? Just to talk about this?”
Chen Zai said, “What’s wrong with that? Can’t she call me?”
Tiao swallowed her anger and said, “Of course she can. Anyone can call you. Anyone can report my whereabouts to you, particularly Fan. I left Chicago after a big fight with her. She made me feel cold. I needed warmth, and Austin is warm.”
Chen Zai said, “Yes, Austin is in the south, and the temperature is higher than Chicago’s.”
“I didn’t mean temperature, though.”
“You meant people?”
“Yes, people.”
Chen Zai went quiet. Tiao asked, “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t you know whom I meant?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying. You know. You know I meant Mike.”
“Oh, it’s Mike.”
“Yes, it’s Mike. Didn’t Fan mention him to you? She must have told you that it was Mike who invited me to Austin and that I was happy to go, that Mike is seven years younger than I am and that we had a chance to become lovers. Well, Mike is certainly seven years younger than I am, but he’s not as naïve as I imagined, and much more mature and sincere, too. Our meeting in Austin wasn’t a coincidence. He didn’t just happen to be home on vacation during my trip. He arranged to take a leave from his school to wait for me there. His parents were extremely nice to me, and I felt very comfortable with them. We took a trip downtown and went out at night—to Sixth Street for a wild night. I’d never wandered around the streets late at night. I remember you telling me how hard you worked when you studied in England and that you didn’t have much entertainment. What a boring and serious life our generation has lived! Why could I stay up all night when I was with Mike? The next day we drove to San Antonio. Let me tell you, Mike is very clever. He can drive with his knees, which allowed him to put his arm around my shoulder—all the way to San Antonio. We ate the famous Mexican food there, and how particular he was. There were a lot of customers, and we had to wait in line to get a seat. It was a restaurant on the river, with half of the seats indoors and half of them outdoors. On a nice day with bright sunshine and a warm breeze, people prefer to sit outside. A long wait makes people less choosy, but Mike gave up many chances to be seated, insisting on getting one of the small tables facing the water until we finally did. He ordered Lone Star beer, Mexican mashed potatoes, corn cake, and a kind of barbecue meat that was extremely tasty but also extremely spicy, spicy enough to administer a jolt. He even taught me a Spanish word: Thanks—gracias!”
Thanks—gracias!
“I learned. He told me, ‘When the muchacho brings you the wine, you just say thanks in Spanish. Spanish is the official language in San Antonio.’ The muchacho brought the wine to us. When he was pouring me the wine, I, who had been quiet while Mike ordered, suddenly smiled at him and said, ‘Gracias!’ The muchacho was very surprised, so surprised that he actually knocked over my wineglass. It seemed normal to him that I, the Asian, couldn’t speak, and when I suddenly came out with Spanish, it was like a mute found her voice. I repeated ‘Gracias’ to him, he kept saying, ‘De nada, de nada,’ and then rushed to replace the wine. Mike said, ‘Do you know why he was so surprised? It’s because your pronunciation was perfect. He must think you speak Spanish. I really want to teach you. You definitely could learn it.’ I told Mike, ‘It’s impossible. I’m too old to learn Spanish.’ Mike said, ‘Don’t say it’s impossible. Never say impossible to life.’ Mike seemed to have made me see the path back to happiness, and Mike seemed to have given me the courage to return to it. I almost forgot I had been happy before. That was when I was three, climbing tentatively with my bottom out onto the sofa with broken springs. That was my happiness—innocent, flawless happiness—happiness without history, happiness without any events. We didn’t go back to Austin until dark. That was the night Mike told me that he loved me. Did you hear me, Chen Zai? Mike told me he loved me.”
Chen Zai said, “Yes, I heard you. Mike said he loved you. Do you love him?”
Tiao said, “I want to love him. I really want to love him. I really want to tell him
that I love him. I … I … I simply love him and I must love him. The problem is … the problem is, I’ve said so much to you and I want to know what you think of it all. Before … I told you everything about me before, so I want to hear what you think of it.”
Tiao rambled on, but this speech of hers wasn’t sincere. It was not the “most important thing” that she wanted to tell Chen Zai, but she couldn’t lead the conversation to the most important thing no matter how hard she tried. She didn’t know why she would babble about Austin or why the more she loved Chen Zai, the more she praised Mike. It was probably also a kind of timidity, hypocrisy and timidity. Again she repeated what she’d just said—timidly and hypocritically—”I want to tell him I love him. I must love him …” Her heart felt such pain that she was at the point of tears.
Chen Zai slowed down and parked his car on the side of the road. He rolled down the window as if to get some fresh air. He said, “Tiao, if you really love him, other things, like age, are all secondary.”
Tiao said, “Is that your opinion? Is that what you want to say to me?”
Chen Zai was quiet for a while and then said, “Yes, that’s what I think.” Tiao’s face suddenly changed toward him—Chen Zai knew it even in the dark. Her expression was grim, resenting herself as well as Chen Zai. “Tell me again what it is you think.” Chen Zai turned his face to the darkness outside the window. “If you really love him, other things aren’t important.”
Tiao questioned him sharply, “Do you really think like that?”
“Yes, I really do.”
Tiao said, “You’re talking nonsense. You always talk nonsense. Deep down, that’s not really what you think. You said it because you think that is what you should say. You’re hypocritical through and through. You’ve always been hypocritical through and through. Why do I bother to talk to you? Why am I talking crap to you? I hate you. I’ve never hated you as much as I do now … You … you! Now I should go. Goodbye!”
Tiao stepped out of the car in one stride, slammed the door, and walked into the dark. She walked quickly, whether it was because she was determined or simply desperate, it would have been hard to say—people in either situation might walk as she did. Desperate people might show a more hurried manner. So, then, she was desperate. She walked desperately, ignoring Chen Zai’s following after her and calling out. He said, “Can you stop your aimless walking? Come back to the car.” She walked even faster and shouted back, “You’re the one who’s walking aimlessly. Leave me alone.”
She kept walking ahead this way, and he trailed at a slow speed. She thought about the late night on Sixth Street in Austin, and finally understood that when she and Mike held hands and looked at the dark Colorado River flowing under the bridge, she wanted to have a night like that with Chen Zai. Now here they were late at night, but what an unfortunate muddle of a night it was. She walked desperately and her heart was entirely gloomy. She was angry at herself because she had ruined everything. What had passed seemed to have passed forever, and Chen Zai had long ago become another woman’s husband. The other woman, what was her name? Oh, Wan Meicheng. Wan Meicheng, Wan Meicheng, what a beautiful name, much nicer than Tiao’s. What right did Tiao have to demand that Chen Zai give an opinion about her relationship with Mike? What obligation did Chen Zai have to give it? Wan Meicheng, Wan Meicheng, Wan Meicheng … he was Wan Meicheng’s husband, and they had been husband and wife for ten years. He was nobody to Tiao—not before, and wouldn’t be in the future. If she tried to force him to be someone to her, then she was fooling herself. But that was exactly what she’d been doing, and, ashamed of it, she felt she had to escape from Chen Zai, from his car, immediately. She rushed from the pavement into the middle of the road, intending to stop a taxi.
She waved at an approaching taxi just as Chen Zai got out of his car and grabbed her arm. The taxi stopped in front of them, and they were almost wrestling as Tiao tried to free her arm from Chen Zai’s grasp, screaming, “Let me go! Let me go!” But Chen Zai held her even more tightly. When she pulled open the taxi door to get in, Chen Zai swept her up in one motion and strode over to his own car. He hurled the door open, threw Tiao into the backseat, and then drove the car off as fast as possible.
The car sped off, leaving Tiao’s taxi far behind. When they passed a cinema, Chen Zai turned into the small parking lot in front of it, stopped the car, and turned off the engine. He got out of the car and then got in through the back door, sitting on the seat with Tiao. He breathed heavily in the dark, and his breath struck Tiao’s face as if it were a solid shape. His face was right beside hers, so close that he gave her the feeling that he was going to bite her. She moved away from him a little and said, “Why are you bullying me like this?”
He embraced her tightly and, breathing heavily, said, “Yes, I just want to bully you. I should have bullied you long ago.” Then he kissed her on her lips, firmly and tenderly.
The situation was one that neither had predicted but both seemed to have anticipated. They had known each other for over twenty years, but had never been so intimate. They had kept missing the chance to connect with each other, as if it were a test of their long affection and friendship. Now neither could take it anymore. As they finally kissed, the damage to their long-standing feelings began. But they didn’t care too much about the damage. It wasn’t enough just to have affection and friendship. They needed the marvellous damage. At this moment, as their kisses turned deep and mellow, they even sighed at how long the damage had taken to happen.
Frantically, they inhaled each other, as if they could inhale each other into their hearts.
4
They didn’t realize how much time had passed until they started to feel out of breath. Such a narrow space couldn’t contain their expansive kisses. It occurred to them now to drive back home to Tiao’s place.
Once there, she managed only to get out her key and open the door and lock it behind them before he had to take her in his arms again. He held her and pushed her back, step by step, all the way to that grey-blue three-seater sofa in the living room. He finally made her stretch out on the sofa, hungry to lay his body on hers, to press into her. Leaning over her, he whispered, “Tiao, let me lie on you. Let me lie on you.”
His whispers made her heart race, but she didn’t really want him to lie on her on that sofa. She never even sat on it, and when Chen Zai pressed down on her to the point of suffocation, she seemed to hear fits of screaming from underneath them. It must be Quan’s voice. Quan had always been sitting here. Now Tiao and Chen Zai had disturbed her and pressed down on her—yes, she screamed because Tiao and Chen Zai combined to bear down on her, for their pleasure and out of their desire. She screamed to interrupt Tiao and to warn her, forcing Tiao to push insistently on Chen Zai’s shoulder, saying, “Let’s go to bed. Let’s go to bed.”
Let’s go to bed.
He heard her invitation, so quick and straightforward, which actually minimized its erotic element. Let’s go to bed—as if they were playing house. They got up from the sofa, and she led him by the hand to the bedroom and onto her bed.
On the bed they sat talking, face-to-face and cross-legged. Holding hands and knee to knee, they stared into each other’s eyes, understanding that everything had just begun. So there was no desire in their eyes, and their bodies were freed from the night’s agitation.
Chen Zai kissed Tiao’s hands and said, “Ten years ago, when I was planning to get married, I asked you the same thing I’m asking you now. Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?”
Tiao kissed Chen Zai’s hands and said, “Because you never said you loved me.”
Chen Zai said, “But you knew I loved you. I’ve loved you since you were twelve years old. I was only seventeen at the time and didn’t really know what love was. Still, I just loved you. When you jumped the rubber-band rope in front of the building one afternoon, I even spied on you. Later, you fell and loosened your little plaits, and you got up embarrassed and ran off. I loved your embarrassment,
all your indignities, your tears and disappointments. No other woman ever revealed so much of herself to me; no other woman ever gave me so much trust. I have known you so long, and I often swore to myself that even had you travelled to the ends of the earth, you would still be a treasure in my heart, embedded in me, blood and bone. You’re my family, and you have to be my family. I didn’t know how to tell you all of this, and it seems I’ve never been given a chance like this. I always believed that the right to ‘tell’ wasn’t up to me. It was you who controlled how close we could be from the very beginning. Everything that happened tonight surprised me very much. I was surprised at myself and at you. I hope this isn’t something you’re doing on impulse. When the sun rises, things that happen at night often seem ridiculous.”
Tiao shook her head at Chen Zai and then nodded. The words of love he’d held on to for so long stirred a lot of different feelings in her. She said, “I can tell you, Chen Zai, I’m not acting on impulse. I love you now, not when I was twelve or twenty-two, those years I treated you as my older brother. Hundreds of times I tried to figure out when I fell in love with you, and I suppose it started the day Fang Jing left me in the waiting room of the train station. He threw me down from the heights of a dream and you caught me before I hit the ground and held me up, with all my tears and hurts, my humiliation and bitterness. If you were not the dearest person in the world to me, how could I have cried in front of you that way without any self-consciousness? But I didn’t know at the time; I had no ability to analyze myself. My soul fell in love with you, but this soul of mine didn’t inform me. Later on, I finally worked all of this out, but by then I felt I had no right to your love. I didn’t deserve it. Behind my apparent pride, I hid a deep sense of unworthiness. You had seen all my misery and embarrassment and I couldn’t offer that shameful confused mess of myself to you. I couldn’t. How could I grab on to your love while still grieving the loss of Fang Jing’s? How could I be so shallow and careless? Maybe I was too concerned with your impression of me. Maybe I was desperate to have you think I wasn’t so silly. When I loved you the most, I also resisted you the most. When you told me that you were going to get married, I tried my best to keep myself composed. Looking back now, I thoroughly hate myself—for putting on an act, exaggerating my happiness for you, and pretending to be calm. I said you should have married long ago. Wan Meicheng, such a beautiful name … my heart felt like it was being cut by a knife, but in my mind I kept thinking about how sensible I was! How moral! And how wise I was! Let me hide at a corner and love secretly. Let me treat your happiness as my own—”
