February Flowers

by Fan Wu

  I was concentrating so intently on the drawing that I didn’t even hear Gao CK call my name.

  “Ming…” Pingping, sitting right in front of me, rocked my desk with her back.

  My first reaction was to tear the paper into pieces. But Gao CK had started to walk toward me.

  “Chen Ming, please stand up.” He crossed his hands over his stomach when he stood beside me. His small eyes narrowed.

  I stood up, hurriedly shoving the paper inside my bag. All my classmates turned to look at Gao CK and me. Those who had been reading kung fu novels earlier had put away their books. I bent my head, staring at my textbook. I lifted my right knee to push the bag a little farther into the desk drawer.

  “Did you hear my question?” Gao CK placed his right hand on my desk.

  I shook my head.

  “What were you doing when I called your name?”

  Somehow I felt he wouldn’t make things too difficult for me. After all, I was one of the best students in the class and he knew it.

  “I wasn’t doing anything.”

  “If you were listening to me, how come you didn’t hear the question?”

  I was silent.

  He turned to face the class. “Could any of you tell Chen Ming what the question was?”

  I knew he was trying to save my dignity.

  Nobody answered his question. The classroom was so quiet it was as though every possible sound had been sucked into a black hole.

  He waited a few seconds, then turned and faced me, his tone stiffened considerably. “What were you doing when I called your name?”

  “I was writing a letter.”

  “To whom?”

  “To a friend.”

  “Give me the letter.”

  “Sorry. It ’s a private letter. I won’t turn it in.” I was hesitant, but finally raised my eyes to his and defied him. I saw intense seriousness in his eyes. I put my hand into the drawer and gripped the strap of my bag, wishing the paper inside it would turn to ashes.

  Gao CK extended his hand toward me. “Give me the letter in your bag. Don’t write love letters in class.”

  A wave of whispering and giggling rustled over the classroom.

  “I wasn’t writing a love letter. I was writing to a friend,” I said, a little resentful of my classmates’ lack of sympathy.

  He stretched his hand farther toward me. I took out my bag and hid it behind my back, grasping it with both hands.

  “If you don’t turn in the letter, you will have to leave the classroom. Now!”

  I felt as though I had to say something to defend myself, but my mind was blank. I looked at Pingping and Donghua, both of whom were making gestures suggesting I turn in the letter.

  Left without options, I walked toward the back door, holding my bag over my chest with both hands, my legs shaking. Be -fore I reached the door I heard Gao CK’s knuckles hit the desk: “How can a student like you be a top student? I will have to talk to the Dean. You will have to deal with the consequences!”

  Surprisingly, his words cooled me down. My legs stopped trembling. I walked out of the classroom, then out of the building. I didn’t stop until I saw Violin Lake, then I removed the drawing from my bag. Without looking at it, I tore it to pieces and threw all the pieces into the nearest trash can.

  That night, the picture in the magazine of two naked women touching each other came to me repeatedly. It was obscene that I had drawn a naked picture of Miao Yan. I blamed myself. I was lucky that my classmates hadn’t seen it or they would think I was a homosexual and would humiliate me. Not just that, they might think I had a mental disorder. The university might even send me to see a doctor. I didn’t dare think further.

  Then I reasoned that drawing Miao Yan naked might just be an intimate joke between friends instead of something sinful and disgusting. I never had the slightest desire to touch her the way the two women were touching in the magazine picture. I just wanted to be close to her. I was afraid of losing her as a friend. That was all. Perhaps I just missed her too much…

  After class the next day I went to the library to look for books on homosexuals but didn’t find any. On my way back, I glanced at every passing girl—they were all unattractive and irritating.

  Ar Yu came to visit me a few days later. We hadn’t seen each other since my summer teaching job ended. As he had predicted, his mother insisted on finding him another teacher though he got quite a few As in English under my tuition. “She thinks you know too much about our family,” Ar Yu said sadly in our last class. Since then he had called me every week but we never got together.

  When I saw him he was standing on the curb outside West Five, hands in his pockets, looking at the passing girls. It had been only two months since I’d last seen him but he seemed taller, his leather jacket a little tight on him and his khaki pants too short.

  As we were walking toward the stadium—I had offered to show him around the campus—he was quiet. He nodded when I pointed out different buildings along the road but talked little. When we were near the woods across from the stadium, he said, “I’ve come here to say goodbye. I ’m going to the U.S. next month.”

  “Next month? I thought you wouldn’t leave until after high school.”

  “I thought so, too. But I guess my parents are worried that the government will find out about my ba’s bribery. Some months ago a few people in my ba’s unit were arrested for corruption. My aunt in the U.S. had prepared all the supporting documents. I got my visa last week and will study in Michigan.”

  I wanted to say “Congratulations,” but it didn’t sound right, so I said only, “I see.”

  “My ma has been crying every day since my aunt sent over the documents.” His eyes were wet. “I’ll miss my parents. I’ll miss you and all my friends here.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t go.” I felt sad. Though I had known him for only a few months, he felt like my little brother. America seemed really far away to me and I felt as though he would disappear like a bubble in a pot of boiling water as soon as he stepped on the airplane.

  Ar Yu was silent. From his expression I knew he had made up his mind. “I have to go. I want to meet girls and I want to have the freedom to decorate my own room.”

  His reasons sounded childish but I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I do have one worry, though.” He kicked away a little gravel on the road. “I’m only five foot six.”

  “What’s that to worry about?”

  “American boys are much taller than I am. I’ll be bullied.”

  “You poor thing! What a worry!” I laughed.

  “I’m serious. I’ve been taking kung fu classes. I ’m also worried that I won’t be able to find a girlfriend there. American girls are big, too.” He looked gloomy.

  “You’re only fifteen. You’ll grow for another three or four years. American milk and beef will make you grow faster. You’ll be at least five foot ten by the time you go to college.”

  “You think so?” He stared at me, half convinced. “Would you find me a girlfriend if I can’t find one in the U.S.?”

  “Sure. I’ll post an ad for you on campus.”

  “If nobody replied, would you be my girlfriend?” He winked at me, smiling.

  My heart skipped. “You silly boy! Of course not. I’d never want to have a boyfriend who’s younger than I am. You’re still a kid.”

  “I’m not a kid!”

  “Okay. You’re not a kid. You’re a man. You’re going abroad by yourself. That ’s quite something, isn’t it?”

  He was pleased. “I’ll become a man soon. Sooner than you can imagine. I started to shave regularly a month ago. Can you see?” He pointed to his chin. “By the way, how come you’re so old-fashioned? I wouldn’t care if my girlfriend was older than me.”

  “Good for you. In that case I’ll post an ad for you at a senior center.”

  “A grandma girlfriend! She’ll cook for me every day. My ma would be happy.”

  It was getting
dark. We hadn’t paid attention to where we were going as we talked and I realized we were off the main road and far into the woods, on a quiet little gravel road inlaid with irregularly shaped blue bricks. On both sides of the road were densely planted silk cotton trees, eucalyptus, and the branches of evergreen bushes struggling out from between them. Despite my little knowledge about where students went on dates, I knew this road was nicknamed Lovers’ Lane and was frequented by both students and people from outside the university looking for a private place to be together. I had walked this road only once and it was with Miao Yan.

  I took Ar Yu’s hand and was going to walk back but he was not moving. I followed the direction of his gaze and saw two people kissing fiercely behind a tree about twenty meters from the road. They were so passionate and so involved that they didn’t detect us approaching. I let go of Ar Yu’s hand immediately and turned, but he grabbed my wrist, his fingers like pincers. He frowned and gestured for me to follow him behind a bush. Afraid of alarming the lovers, I had no choice but to do as he asked.

  I thought the couple would finish kissing and leave but they started to touch each other aggressively. They must have thought the dim light in the woods at sunset would protect them from being seen. I watched the man’s hand fondling the woman’s chest as she unzipped his pants and put one hand inside his crotch. The man’s hand slowly moved downward to reach under the woman’s long skirt, and stayed there. The woman tilted her head back. The man used his other hand to unbutton her blouse, then her bra. The black bra must have been strapless, because it slipped to the ground.

  The scene made me dizzy. I had to lower my head and close my eyes to take a break. When I opened them again, I turned to look at Ar Yu. Staring at the couple without blinking, he seemed to have been possessed by a ghost. His grip on my hand loosened.

  At this moment, from the opposite direction, came a tenor eleven-year-old girl with a ponytail, a red backpack on her back. She must have picked this road as a shortcut home. She was humming and hopping toward Ar Yu and me. I elbowed Ar Yu and tilted my head toward the girl. When Ar Yu came back to himself and saw the girl he ground his teeth and said in a strangled voice, “Damn it! Damn it!” The girl and the couple saw each other almost at the same time, then immediately spotted Ar Yu and me. The girl screamed.

  “Hurry! Run!” Ar Yu sprang up from behind the bush, grasped my hand, and darted toward the main road, his hand strong, his strides long. I could barely keep up with him. After hitting the main road we didn’t stop but kept running until we took shelter inside a kiosk near the library. When we had caught our breath, Ar Yu burst out laughing, and so did I.

  Finally he stopped laughing and stared at me. There was something strange in his gaze, something I couldn’t understand—hope, desire, doubt, bewilderment, or a little bit of everything. I backed away from him. “Let me show you the library and my department,” I said.

  He mumbled something.

  “What did you say?”

  “I want to kiss you.” His voice was firm this time. Before I could react, he stepped forward and pulled me close, his arms surprisingly strong for a fifteen-year-old. Not that I had any idea how much strength a fifteen-year-old boy should have—no man had ever grabbed me like that. Then he quickly moved his hands from my arms to my waist. For a moment I thought he was going to lift me but he only lowered his head to find my lips, his breathing short and heavy.

  I struggled out of his arms and kicked him hard in the stomach—so hard that he backed up a few steps and sat on the ground. “Those people aren’t students. We shouldn’t have walked in the woods. You shouldn’t even have come to visit me. You ’d better leave now.”

  “What’s wrong? I like you!” He looked hurt. I could see my dirty footprint on his white polo shirt under the jacket.

  “It isn’t funny!”

  “I love you!”

  I couldn’t help laughing—what did a fifteen-year-old know about love? I walked to Ar Yu and extended my hands. He pushed them away and stood up.

  “You don’t know what love is,” I said, remembering how Miao Yan had said the same thing to me when we were quarreling in the department store.

  “You don’t need to have a girlfriend to know about love!” He turned away.

  “You don’t love me. You only like me as your sister.”

  “I don’t need a sister. I need a girlfriend.”

  “You’ll have one someday.”

  “I love you and I’ve missed you.”

  “You’re a little boy. You’re like my little brother,” I said, trying to hold his hand and turn him around.

  He shook me off. “I’m not a boy!” His voice was a little husky.

  “You are.” I smiled, thinking it was like a game instead of an argument.

  “I’m not! You are!” He turned, his eyes a little red. “You don’t want to have a boyfriend. You don’t want to grow up. You’re a kid! You’ll become an old maid without a boyfriend.”

  Much as I felt bad for him, I felt worse for myself. I walked out of the kiosk, leaving him there alone.

  “You hurt me! You don’t know about love. You’re a kid!” Ar Yu shouted at my back as I walked away.

  The same week as Ar Yu’s visit, at six thirty on Saturday afternoon when I was writing a review of Dream of the Red Chamber in the library, I heard a knock on the window. I looked up. Miao Yan was standing outside!

  “Where did you go? I couldn’t find you anywhere. How’ve you been?” I jumped up from my chair, managing to keep my voice down. I couldn’t help smiling at her.

  She poked her head through the window. “Still want to see me?”

  “Of course! I missed you every day.”

  “You did?” She chuckled.

  Before I could say more she extended her hands through the window and impatiently gathered my books and pens into a pile on the desk. The happy expression on her face told me that something special must be happening tonight.

  Walking out of the library I saw a guy, about Miao Yan’s height, with tanned skin and a crew cut, standing next to her on the stairs. He had a thin, angular face. His eyes weren’t big but the gleam in them was penetrating and magnetic—a pair of eyes I hadn’t seen in any other man. At that moment I couldn’t think of words other than “bright” to describe them. Later, words like “sensual,” “mature,” and “profound” seemed more accurate. He wore a silver, double-breasted wind-breaker, unbuttoned, over a black turtleneck.

  He strode toward me, offering a handshake. “You must be Chen Ming. Miao Yan has mentioned you at least one hundred times. It’s a pleasure to meet you finally, the mystery girl, in person. My name is Du Sheng. You can call me Big Brother Du.” He looked into my eyes with the confidence of a salesman describing his products. His voice was a baritone, powerful yet musical. When he spoke, he rolled his tongue slightly to make pronounced “er” sounds, like Pingping.

  Miao Yan stood beside him, head against his shoulder, both hands gripping his arm, and smiled at me. She wore the blue suit she had tried on in the department store. Her high-heeled shoes were the same blue, a silver heart-shaped buckle on each side. This Big Brother Du must be her secret wealthy boyfriend, I thought.

  “Here’s my business card.” Du Sheng took out his wallet and gave me a card with gold foil print on it.

  I glanced at the card: his title was Director of General Merchandise.

  “Ming’s a student, not a potential client,” Miao Yan said sweetly.

  “That’s right. I didn’t think about that. It ’s a habit.”

  I put the card in my pocket. “It’s the first business card I’ve received. I’ll keep it as a souvenir. I can also use it as a bookmark.”

  Du Sheng put one hand on Miao Yan’s shoulder, the other on my back. “Let’s go. My treat. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

  When we hit the road leading to the university’s main entrance, the streetlights went on, shedding a yellowish light.

  Miao Yan suggested that we eat o
n Food Street—a side street near the main entrance. The street was no more than a mile long but hosted over a hundred restaurants and food stands. Along the street, white bulbs on strings crisscrossed over the trees like stars. Food stands were extremely popular with students because they were cheap and the service was fast. They were offshoots of small restaurants whose owners would set up tables on the pavement to attract customers in the evenings. On weekend nights, the footpath would be jammed with tables and chairs, along with hundreds of customers—mostly students.

  Winter is the best time to eat hotpot. We fought our way among tables, chairs, and people. At last we sat down under a big oak tree. We ordered lamb hotpot with two different soups—one spicy, for Du Sheng, the other plain, for Miao Yan and me.

  When Miao Yan sat down she turned and embraced Du Sheng, both arms around his neck. “Ming is still mad at me. You need to apologize to her for me.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not mad at you at all,” I said, embarrassed by their intimacy in public, though it seemed natural to see Miao Yan with a handsome and mature guy like Du Sheng. I didn’t feel jealous, as I had thought I would. Perhaps I was just happy to see Miao Yan.

  “For my sake, you two little girls should just forget about your argument. Come on, give your brother a big smile. Let’s use tea as alcohol and toast to everlasting friendship.” He gently detached Miao Yan’s hands from his neck and lifted the teapot to pour jasmine tea into our three cups.

  Miao Yan pursed her lips and shrugged, but didn’t complain.

  We raised the teacups high. “Friendship forever!” we said together, and sipped the tea.

  “Big Brother Du, where are you from? How come you like spicy food?” I asked.

  “Liaoning Province. The northeast is cold in the winter. Everybody eats spicy food there. After coming to Guangdong, though the weather is warm, I still can’t change my eating habits. No spice, no appetite.” He uncapped a bottle of spicy barbecue sauce and poured half the bottle into his bowl, then mixed the sauce with two big scoops of reddish chili oil. To me, that would have tasted like fire.