A Certain Smile

by Judith Michael

  But he could not go back. She would probably be asleep. Even if she were up, she did not like visitors in the daytime; she did not like to be surprised. It would make things worse, if he went to see her.

  He looked at his watch. This afternoon he would call her. First he had to talk to his father, and then—

  His telephone rang. "What happened in Beihai?" Meng Enli said.

  "Youcai is gone; he was greedy and not to be trusted. The mayor has sent him to Shanghai, on some kind of assignment, and hired a new police chief, someone who is older, not in a hurry; he just wants security, and an easy time."

  "His name?"

  "Feng Zhiwen. Bom in Beihai, married, with grown sons, one in Macao, one in Hong Kong, both in trade. He lives in the apartment he has lived in for thirty-five years."

  "His wife?"

  "She cooked dinner."

  They laughed together, and Sheng relaxed with the gratification of two men understanding each other in a world where, even after decades of communist preaching on equality, women truly did not count.

  "And the sugar," he went on. "I got it off the ship. It will be shipped this afternoon when the trucks arrive and Feng Zhiwen writes the permit for them to leave. Then, of course, I will hire a new crew for the raids scheduled this month. Feng said he could find fifteen or twenty good men, but I will not rely on him; I will go back and examine them myself."

  "This was a costly venture," said Enli.

  "Not as bad as if we had lost the sugar." Sheng gave the figures for bribing the police guarding the ship, and the amount he had committed to pay Feng for the first year.

  "Expensive, but better than losing the sugar," Enli pronounced, and Sheng did not point out that he himself had said that a moment earlier. "This was well done, Sheng; a good recovery. I knew you would handle it well."

  Sheng nodded. Of course he had handled it well; he may have stumbled this time, but he knew what he was doing; he was shrewd and aggressive. That was why he would prosper.

  Unless his father ruined things for him.

  He had meant to ask Enli why his father was being followed, and what he had done in Xi'an, and with whom. But he had not been able to do it. It was difficult for him to beg for information about his father, who was under suspicion.

  He looked at his watch. Eleven o'clock. The meeting with the supplier should be over; why had his father not come to greet him, and tell him about his trip to Xi'an, and why he was under surveillance? For surely, by now, after Sheng had told him about it, he would have thought long and hard and come up with some reason for the government's interest in him.

  He waited another ten minutes, then jumped up and left his office. He has no right to keep me waiting, he stormed silently, and flung open the door to his father's offices. "Where is he?" he demanded of Li's secretary.

  "He just returned from his meeting; if you—"

  Sheng barged past her and opened the door to the inner office. His father was talking on the telephone. He looked up, startled, then beckoned to Sheng to come in. Sheng stood beside an armchair facing the desk and his father finished his conversation quickly, then, to Sheng's utter shock, walked around the desk and greeted his son with a hug.

  "I'm glad to see you. You've been away; your message was unclear, but I hope it was a successful trip. Do you want to tell me about it?"

  Sheng, still in shock, stared at his father for seconds that seemed like minutes before he said, "It was something to do with the partnership; I took care of it. I'm sorry I had to leave, but I don't think it caused problems here."

  "It did not," Li agreed. He went back to his chair and Sheng realized he should have hugged his father in return, instead of standing like a rag doll, his arms at his side, his body lax with surprise. But his father never hugged him; how was he supposed to know how to react?

  "I need to talk to you, father," he said.

  "Yes, we have things to discuss." Li went to the lacquered tea cart in the comer and poured two cups of green tea, setting one on the table beside Sheng's chair. "My secretary tells me you seemed displeased thati wenttoXi'an."

  "We miss you in the office." Li's eyebrows rose, and Sheng added quickly, "Not that we cannot manage, but we value your leadership. And of course there are decisions we cannot make without you."

  "For those decisions, I can always be found. And since you were gone at the same time I was, it is hard to see how you missed me."

  "I meant. . ." Sheng struggled for a moment. "It's not just Xi'an. You seem distracted, thinking of other things, not thinking first of us. And you could have told me you were going to Xi'an. Not a word, you never said a word to me, I had to find out from your secretary!"

  He sounded like a little boy left out of the grown-up world. He cursed himself Why did he do that with his father? He did not talk to anyone else that way.

  "I left a note on your desk," said Li, "and a message on your answering machine at home."

  "Only that you were going out of town overnight. Not where you were going. Not why you were going. Not who would be with you!"

  Li's eyebrows rose again. "Who was with me?" he asked with interest.

  Sheng clenched his fist. He never made slips of the tongue with other people. "A friend in Xi'an called me and said he saw you going into the Xi'an Garden Hotel." He hesitated, but there was no time to debate it, and so he gambled that his suspicions were right. "My friend said you were with an American woman, and it sounded like the woman I met when you were going to the market."

  He could tell from his father's face that he knew he was lying, but Li made no accusations. "What I do outside our company is no con-

  cam of yours," he said. "As I do not ask about your friends and business acquaintances, you liave no reason to ask about mine."

  "I do if they affect our company, our security. My security. You can do business with Americans, but to travel with one—" He bit off the words, cursing himself again. Li had not admitted anything. And anyway, that was not what he should be talking about. "Have you thought about why you are being followed? About what I said?"

  Li was making little drawings and Sheng leaned forward to see what they were. Circles, triangles, squares scattered across the paper, none of them touching. Unconnected, Sheng thought. Does he feel that way about the two of us, or about himself and everyone else? "I know why I am being watched," Li said, "and it has nothing to do with you, or with All-China Construction. You need not worry about our security."

  "But why are they watching you?" Sheng burst out.

  "I will not discuss that. It does not concern you."

  "It does! The American president is coming to see our president. They will be arresting anyone who seems suspicious. If they are already following you—"

  "They will not arrest me. In fact, it is better that the American president will soon be here; the security people may pull in the most active dissidents for questioning, but they will not risk arresting prominent citizens; it would not be good public relations."

  "You don't know that."

  "I am sure of it. They watch me for their own reasons, but they will do nothing, and as I said it does not concern you."

  "Anything that threatens the company concerns me!"

  "I have just told you that it does not threaten the company."

  "I have a right to know!"

  "You have a right to be concerned about my welfare, as I am about yours. But you must accept my word when I tell you that I am in no danger. Will you tell me the same about yourself?"

  "Danger? Of course I am not in danger! Why would I be?"

  "I have no idea. Or, rather, I have many, but since I do not know for certain exactly what you are involved in, or how deeply, I cannot be specific."

  "I'm involved in business!" There was a silence. Sheng's foot began to do a litttle dance against the chair leg. "Why are you talking about danger?"

  "I have just told you. I think you and your partners, who do not impress me as excellent friends, are involved in illegal a
ctivities—"

  "Nothing is really—"

  "You may say that nothing in China is really illegal these days, but you know that is not true. We do have laws, and just because many are broken with impunity today does not mean that will be the case tomorrow. And when you cannot be sure of tomorrow, you are at risk." He paused. "Many will grow wealthy in this uncertain society, but many will fall and be left with nothing. Because without a structure that is honored by all, with laws and a system of justice that is consistent and stable, no one is safe or secure in his home or family or work."

  "Structure," Sheng said sarcastically. "We had plenty of that before the government eased up."

  Li shook his head. "I am not talking about a communist government relaxing the reins when it feels like it. I am talking about a democratic government giving its citizens a framework within which to prosper."

  Sheng reared back in his chair. This could not be his father talking. No, no, Yuan Li would never speak such subversive nonsense. Unless he had lost his senses.

  Crazy, he thought, as he had once before. My father has gone crazy.

  Or...

  The image of the woman came to him again, on the street in front of their building. Colorless, uninteresting. A pale shadow compared to Wu Yi's vivid beauty. But she was American, and his father had looked at her as if she absorbed his vision, and now he was talking about a democratic government.

  And he had taken her to Xi'an; of that Sheng was absolutely sure. He had evaded Sheng's question; that gave him away.

  "Are you going to America?" Sheng burst out.

  Li's eyes met his for a long moment. It seemed to Sheng that his father was not surprised by the question; almost, that he had been expecting it. But all Li said was, "I have no plans to go anywhere. Why do you think I might do that?"

  Don't lie to me! Sheng thought angrily. I need you to tell me the truth! It did not matter that he lied to his father all the time; he expected his father to be different. "Hfere you with her in Xi'an?" he asked.

  Li sighed. "If you mean Miranda Graham, I went with her to Xi'an. Do you think that means I am going to America?"

  "You've changed," Sheng said accusingly. "You leave the office without warning; you travel with an American woman; you talk about democratic government—what does that have to do with China, and us, and how we live?—and you don't seem to care that you're under surveillance. It's as if you've akeady left. Left China, left the company. Left me."

  He heard those last two words with dismay; what a weakness they showed in him!

  "You don't want me to leave China?" Li asked. "I thought you could not wait to be rid of me."

  Nothing in the conversation was going as Sheng wanted. Why did he always feel so mixed up with his father? ''Are you leaving China?" he demanded. "Is that why you are being watched—because the authorities know it? Did you think about what that means to me? To my future? You said you worry about me, but if you really did, you wouldn't put me in a difficult position; you would protect me."

  "I would like to protect you," Li said quietly. "But the danger for you comes from the paths you are taking, not from anything I do. I cannot protect you, Sheng; I am not in the military or the government, as your partners' fathers are."

  "I don't need—"

  "I think you might."

  "Then how can you leave China?"

  "I am not leaving China."

  "But you might. You might change your mind."

  Li smiled faintly. "If I do, I will tell you before anyone else. So that you can prepare to move into this office."

  Sheng glared at his father. "Who told you that?"

  Again, Li sighed. "Sheng, you must learn to think before you speak. Now you have given away that you have talked to others about this. Do you want so badly to be president of our company?"

  Sheng was silent.

  "Or have your partners decided you should?" Li's voice sharpened. "They must admire you very much. Or"—there was the briefest pause—"need you very much."

  Sheng did not like the way that sounded. "They admire me, but we have not talked about All-China Construction; why would we?" No, no, no, he thought, do not open the door to that subject; my father is too smart. Quickly, he said, "You did not tell me why you think you are being followed."

  Li gave him a long look. "It is a mistake. Someone thinks Miranda is in touch with dissidents in Beijing. She is not, but once they think that, they cling to it. And so they follow her, and they follow me because I am with her occasionally."

  "More than occasionally," Sheng said bitterly.

  Li nodded. "More than occasionally. I intend to see her as often as I wish, as often as she wishes, while she is in Beijing. If that distresses you, I regret it, but it does not change anything. By the way, I am told

  that you are seen, more than occasionally, with Wu Yi. This must be difficult for your wife to understand."

  A silence settled between them. Damn him, Sheng thought. Fathers should not go on the offensive with their sons. Their time is past; they should defer to their sons, not attack them with personal matters they do not understand, and never will, because they are not modem.

  "She and I have an understanding," he said at last. "We live our own lives."

  "And your son? Rongji?"

  "He is a fine boy. He will be seven next month, you know. You should spend more time with him."

  "When? I have asked to see him many times, but you always say he is busy. Or it is not a good time for you. Or he is visiting friends."

  "We can change that," said Sheng weakly. It was true: he had never wanted his father around very much, so, even when Li offered to take Rongji on an excursion for the day, or to take him home for an overnight stay, Sheng always found reasons to say no. "If you are really interested ..."

  "I am always interested in spending time with my grandson. Perhaps, in a week or two, I will take him to Xi'an. It is a good place to take friends and family, to see the terra-cotta warriors."

  Sheng found that confusing, so he said simply, "Call whenever you wish. We will arrange for you to be with him. He is smart, you know. He learns quickly."

  "I'm glad you are proud of him. And Wu Yi?"

  "A friend."

  "More than that, surely."

  Sheng had wanted to say the same about the American woman, but the words stuck in his throat. He wished he could be flip and scornful with his father, as many of his friends said the new Chinese man should be, but he could not do it. Li might be old-fashioned, foolishly honest and boring, but somehow, inexplicably, Sheng still found himself longing now and then for a camaraderie with his father, shared laughter and shared problems, even, unlikely as it seemed, a chance to learn from him.

  "She is more than a friend," Li repeated, pressing.

  And Sheng opened up. "I am mad for her. She is spoiled and arrogant and willful and demanding and I know she is not an important person, not as important as business or—"

  "Or family," Li prompted.

  "—or family, but she has gotten inside me and I cannot dig her out. I do not want to dig her out. She is too exciting."

  "Like fireworks."

  "Yes, yes, she is all sparks and crackles and fire. We do not talk very much, you know; I can get that at home. It is not what I want from her."

  "And will it last, do you think?"

  Sheng's stomach clutched at the thought of his dependence. "As long as she wants me."

  "And how long will that be?"

  "Until she gets bored. Not long. Not long enough. She is not a person of deep feeling, or understanding, or constancy."

  "You may tire of that before she tires of you. She may just fizzle, like fireworks." They smiled together and Sheng's heart swelled with sudden and dismaying love for his father.

  Li stood up. "We have work to do. I'd like you to sit in on a labor meeting in an hour; the large construction companies are having problems with workers and you may have some good ideas."

  "Problems?"

 
; "There is talk of calling a strike for better housing. I sympathize with them—their housing is wretched—but I will not negotiate with them alone. If we have the cooperation of companies in our major cities, we can work out a way to solve this. I think it will be difficult, and I want you at my side on this, Sheng."

  "Yes," Sheng said, pleased but distracted. If there were a strike, which men would go? He and his partners relied on warehouse workers in the largest construction companies to stock and inventory pirated goods. If the key people went on strike, they could be stuck with truckloads of merchandise and nowhere to put it. I'll talk to Chao and Enli about it, at our meeting this afternoon, Sheng thought. If we can't find a way to stop these revolutionaries from striking—"

  "You look troubled," said Li.

  "Yes, a strike could hurt us. I'm worried about the company."

  He felt Li's arm around the shoulders—when had his father done that, in recent memory?—as they walked to the door. "I'm glad you're concerned," Li said. "We'll see what we can do at the meeting. Two-thirty in the conference room. And, Sheng, I will call about seeing Rongji. Perhaps, if I take him to Xi'an, you will join us. And your wife. It will be a family time, all of us together. I'll call as soon as I get my schedule in order."

  As soon as you figure out which days you can spare from that woman, Sheng thought, the pleasure of these past minutes wiped out. It was amazing how quickly he could become angry with his father. Still, the idea of the family going to Xi'an was surprisingly pleasant. I'll think about it, he decided. I can't handle all these feelings at once.

  He nodded abruptly, and left Li's office, striding to his own, at the other end of the corridor.

  On impulse, he called Wu Yi. "I was missing you. May we have dinner tonight?"

  "No, impossible." Caressed by Sheng's deep voice, Wu Yi looked in the mirror. She had a dinner engagement that night with a lawyer whose wife was divorcing him; he had money and prestige, but none of Sheng's little-boy sweetness, and certainly not that deep, smooth voice. But Wu Yi was worried about Sheng: all her doubts of the night before had become magnified the minute they finished making love. She had been satisfied—oh, powerfully satisfied—and thoroughly worn out, but still the doubts had returned. She would not see Sheng again until she had resolved them. "I have engagements for the next few days, and then a dressmaker from Xi'an is bringing me samples of her work—"