A Certain Smile

by Judith Michael

He walked between them down Wangfujing, smiling ruefully to himself at the picmre they made: Yuan Li between two suspect women. Meiyun, the widow of a professor still considered subversive for his writings on representative democracy and pressure groups, and Miranda, courier of mail from an exiled dissident to mainland China. Whoever was following them tonight would think he had struck gold. But still nothing would hapj)en. And that perhaps was the true horror of it, as he had said to Miranda: it was done to control a populace, to intimidate, to alarm, to wear down. The fact that there still were dissi-

  dents and a rising chorus of political discussion was a testament to the stubbornness and tenacity of the human spirit. Even in China. Perhaps especially in China.

  "What will you do about Sheng's partners?" Meiyun asked at dinner. "They will try again, you know; people like that do not give up after one try."

  "Why don't you frame them?" Miranda asked.

  Li's eyebrows rose. "It is amazing how quickly China pervades the soul of a visitor. Perhaps you should stay here with me, my Miranda; akeady you think far more like a Chinese than I do as an American."

  Miranda's chopsticks clattered to her plate. "You're not serious."

  "But you have thought about it. Haven't you? Staying with me? Working here with Meiyun?"

  She concentrated on arranging her chopsticks on her plate, making them perfectly parallel. "When I was designing the cape, and that day I walked to my hotel, and when I worked with Yun Chen on designs, and with Tang Po, I did think about it. It seemed exciting, and possible. I even wrote postcards to Adam and Lisa, telling them I wanted to bring them here, that we would live here and learn all about China from the inside—"

  "You wrote that?" Li's voice rose. "Then they will want to do it! Young people have itchy feet and eyes big with curiosity; they will say it is a great adventure and when they read that you want them to—"

  "I didn't mail them."

  There was a pause. "The postcards. You did not mail the postcards."

  "No. I put stamps on them, and kept saying I'd do it later, but finally I knew that I never would. I couldn't, Li, not when I really thought about it. Because everywhere I go, whether I'm alone or with you, whatever I do, / can 'tfit myself in. I don't feel that I belong anywhere here. Except in your house, in your kitchen, in your bed. And as wonderful as that is, it isn't enough for a life. Or for my children's life."

  "It takes time. And if you truly leave your old life behind, and we are together, you would want to belong. You would want it so much you would make it happen."

  "And my children? What would be their motivation?"

  "Adventure, excitement, all the things young people love. They would make friends—"

  "They don't speak Chinese."

  "Most schoolchildren here speak English, at least in the cities, and Adam and Lisa would learn Chinese quickly. For young people languages are not so hard. They would learn about China and teach their

  friends about America; they would grow up with understanding and wisdom, and they would have a wonderful time."

  "You want us here," Miranda said after a moment. "Instead of coming to America."

  "Yes."

  "But you just said—"

  "But / was asking a question," Meiyun interrupted, and they turned to her with surprise; they had forgotten she was there. "About Sheng's partners. My hearing must be bad because I did not hear an answer."

  "Miranda gave an answer," said Li. "She suggested I frame them."

  "We," Miranda said quickly, "I'd want to help."

  "And I," said Meiyun with a smile. "A small conspiracy to defeat a larger one. Have you any ideas?"

  And this was what it came down to, Li thought. Do things that I know are wrong. Be a person I do not much like. Sometimes it is either that. .. or crawl into a shell.

  "Ideas?" he said. "Of course; our government is filled with examples and role models. The problem is how to bring down Chao and Enli without dragging Sheng with them."

  "Are you sure Sheng wants to do this?" Miranda asked.

  "An excellent question," said Meiyun. "What if his feet get frozen?"

  "Cold feet," Miranda said.

  "Ah, for Sheng they might be frozen. What if this happens and he balks halfway through your plot? You would be exposed doing something illegal—I assume it would be illegal—and Sheng and his partners would go untouched. And you would be arrested, gone, which is just what the partners want."

  "Sheng would have to agree at least to stand aside. He would not betray me. But I believe we will be together in this."

  The waitress ladled portions of soup into their bowls. Li watched the graceful turn of her wrist; he glanced at the jade bracelet on Miranda's wrist and then at Meiyun's small hand holding her soup spoon, and suddenly he was filled with an extraordinary sense of well-being. Whatever turmoil awaited beyond the restaurant, however much tension and uncertainty lay like shadows over the future, with these two women he loved and admired, he felt content, and blessed.

  An odd word for someone who has no religion. But that is what it feels like. Enriched by those who have come to me. Grateful. Blessed.

  "What will you and Sheng do together?" Miranda asked and Li grimaced slightly at the balancing act they had to perform, like people everywhere, he imagined, to stay upright between serenity and crisis.

  But with those thoughts of gratitude and blessing, he had made a

  decision, and so he said, "I cannot tell you. I should not have said even this much. Sheng and I will not involve anyone else in this."

  Miranda looked at him. "You told me you wouldn't shut me out."

  "It is not shutting you out; it is protecting you from ugliness."

  "I don't want to be protected! People have tried to protect me all my life, and all it did was make me feel helpless as soon as the scenery wasn't familiar. Li, please don't do this. Let me be part of it. Let me help you."

  He put his hand on hers. "I'm sorry. I did not intend to sound like your parents. Well, but this is nothing like your home, and what could you do?"

  "How do I know, when you won't even tell me what you're planning?"

  "An impasse," said Meiyun. "Li, when you and Sheng have a plan, you certainly should tell us, and then we will know if we can help."

  "I don't see that."

  "But we are involved, already. We are close to you, and Miranda is under surveillance, and they have a file on me, and of course they know that we are together right now. You should tell us what you plan, because being half-involved is like being half a virgin: unsatisfactory, and besides an impossibility."

  Li chuckled. He looked at Miranda, who nodded. "Well, when I have a plan, I will tell you," he said, "even though there will be nothing you can do."

  "We will decide that together," said Meiyun.

  Li gazed at her. "So smbbom. You always have been."

  "It helps my character. And also my survival. Now, shall we go to Liulichang? As I recall, I was promised that for tonight, also."

  With little subtlety, she had directed much of their evening, Li thought. But perhaps that was what they needed: to be pushed .. . somewhere.

  "Yes, let's go," Miranda said. "I've heard it's wonderful. And I have so many presents to buy."

  The three of them strolled through Liulichang with crowds of evening shoppers. The street was built to look like an ancient Chinese village, with shop windows crammed with antiques: porcelains, linens, furniture, ivory and jade figurines, chess sets, jewelry, painted fans. Not an inch was wasted: antiques filled the shelves, hung from hooks on walls and ceiUngs, tottered in stacks on floors and display cases.

  "I feel so greedy," Miranda said. "I want everything, much more than I can afford."

  "Then it is time for bargaining," said Li.

  "I couldn't. I've never done it."

  "You should leam how; it will always be of use to you."

  "Not in Boulder Colorado."

  "In China," he said abruptly, and led the way to a shop with sculptu
res and vases arrayed in its plate-glass window. "Which would you like?"

  Miranda debated, then pointed to a translucent white jade figure of a woman standing beside a drooping willow tree.

  "A fine piece," Li said. "Decide what you want to pay for it, then pretend that you are not terribly interested, but it might make a pair with one you have at home. When you bargain, do not offer a sum so low it demeans the owner, but low enough to show her that you do not take her first price seriously."

  "Li, I told you, I have no idea how to do that."

  "It will come to you. I think it is instinctive in all of us, this game-playing. It gives us a chance to win without dire consequences; that is the fun of it."

  The shop was dim and it took a minute for Miranda's eyes to focus on the owner, small and hunched, with a thin face and gray hair in a tight bun at her neck. Her sweater had a hole in one sleeve and her skirt dragged on the floor. Her face was impassive. "May I help you?"

  "We're just looking," Miranda said. She paced the tiny shop, six steps to the wall, six steps back. Finally she stopped at the window, picked up a vase and put it down, then another one, and finally the figure she wanted. "How much is this one?"

  "One thousand yuan. Very fine, very old." She made a small bow. "You have excellent eye."

  Miranda returned the figure to the shelf. She wanted it. She loved the timelessness of the pose, the aged luster of the white jade, the woman's meditative face. But Li was watching, and she put it back. "I'm afraid it's too much for my budget. I thought it might make a pair with one I have at home, but perhaps I'll find another one somewhere else."

  "Another? There are none as old or as fine. Still, I can perhaps lower a little; I can sell to you for eight hundred."

  Miranda shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry. I can't pay more than two hundred."

  The owner looked shocked. "Impossible! This so old, so fine... but perhaps I could lower to six hundred. No more, however; that is the best."

  "I can't afford it," Miranda said. "That's seventy-five dollars. I might be able to manage three hundred ..."

  "No, no, too far. But if you truly cannot afford it, I can lower a little more." She folded her hands. "It is for me hard, too; I live with grandchildren because parents are dead, two little girls, one eleven years old has a problem with her heart, and doctors say she dies if she does not have hospital and medicines. But you are very pretty lady, and very nice, and you can have jade figure for four hundred fifty yuan."

  "Fine," Miranda said abruptly. She pulled out the money and waited impatiently while the woman wrapped the figure in many layers of bubble wrap. Outside, she tucked it into her shopping bag. "I should have bought something for my parents, but I really didn't want to start all over again."

  "You could have gotten it for two hundred," Li said. "You believed her about the grandchildren."

  She stared at him. "There are no grandchildren?"

  "Probably there are many. But I have shopped here before and she has many hardship stories; she tailors them to her customers and they are never the same."

  "You don't think she has a sick granddaughter?"

  "I doubt it. I have not heard her tell that story before."

  "Well, thank goodness."

  "You're happy about this? That she fooled you?"

  "Of course I'm happy. Should I be sad that there isn't a child dying of heart disease?"

  "Even if it means that the woman cheated you?"

  "Out of what? A few dollars. And if there really is a sick granddaughter, then she needs the money. I can't believe you think it's fun to take advantage of poor people who are trying to make a living in their pathetic little shops."

  "No one is taking advantage of them, and in fact it is a game. Bargaining is done all over the world; shop owners inflate their prices a few hundred percent to allow for it. Many of them are poor, it is true, but not because they bargain; that is simply a way of doing business. In fact, they usually win, especially with tourists. As she just did."

  "Because I cared about her! I'd rather spend too much than be as cynical as you are!"

  Meiyun put a hand on her arm. "It is not cynicism in Li, and it is not gullibility in you. You have different traditions in shopping and that is nothing to quarrel about."

  "Were we quarreling?" Li asked. "I thought it was a cultural exchange."

  They laughed, but Miranda said, "If you were in America you wouldn't shop that way."

  "Ah, but if you were in China, you would. And you did so well; I was thinking again how quickly you adapt."

  "And what about presents?" Meiyun asked, once again steering them in a new direction. "What interests you, Miranda?"

  "Everything."

  "But save something for tomorrow," said Li. "The Xiushui Silk Market is excellent for shopping."

  "But first we visit Wu Yi, at nine," said Meiyun to Miranda. "You can do this?"

  "For an hour. I have a meeting at ten-thirty."

  "Then at eight-thirty I will pick you up at your hotel."

  A silence fell. Miranda looked at her hands. Li frowned, contemplating his shoes. And then Meiyun understood. "You will not be at your hotel in the morning, is that correct?"

  Miranda nodded.

  "Ah." She gazed at them, began to say something, changed her mind, and said instead, "I will be at Li's house at eight-thirty. You will be ready?"

  "Yes. Thank you."

  Thank you for understanding, Li thought. Thank you for not chastising us for being foolish. Thank you for being our friend.

  And late that night, after they had left Meiyun at her hotel, after they had walked into Li's house and made love, when they were holding each other in the slow drowsy minutes before falling asleep— like other couples all over the world, like people who know what tomorrow will bring —Miranda said, "Do you think she knew why I thanked her?"

  "She knew," Li said. "She understands so much. She wants us to be happy."

  "In China or America?"

  He raised himself on his elbow. "Wherever we would be happy. Do you want to talk about this tonight?"

  "No, I'm sorry; we're both too tu-ed. And I think I'm afraid to. But tomorrow—"

  "Tomorrow we will talk about it and not be afraid. And on Saturday, when we go to the Forbidden City"— your last day in China; the last day for everything to be settled —"we will talk about it some more."

  "And decide—?" Her eyes were closing.

  Li kissed her forehead, her lips. "And decide. I love you. Now sleep."

  They woke late and had time only for tea before Meiyun arrived.

  "She is slightly hysterical," Meiyun said in the car, "so you should speak quietly and innocuously."

  "I won't speak at all," Miranda said. "I'm tired and I don't feel very well. Don't people often get sick in Beijing? The pollution, or something?"

  "This is not pollution, my dear. You are filled with tension because you have today and tomorrow before you leave and great decisions to make, and you would rather not make them."

  "Not make them?"

  "I think you would rather go on like this, the days spinning out one after the other, you and Li like children playing in a beautiful park that closes at sunset, but somehow sunset never comes. Or, you would rather that someone else make the decision for you."

  "How wise you are. Would you tell me what you think I should do?"

  "There would be no wisdom in that, only foolhardiness. This is only for you and Li, my dear, as you both know. And here we are at Wu Yi's apartment. Stay behind me so that she does not see you right away."

  "But, you did tell her I was coming."

  "Of course, but she is the kind of woman who is suspicious of other pretty women, so it would be best if she sees me first." She rang the bell, and stood in front of Miranda, which Miranda found amusing, since Meiyun was six inches shorter than she.

  So, when the maid led them to the living room, it was Miranda whom Wu Yi looked at first. She dropped her gaze to Meiyun and said, in Ch
inese, "You brought them?"

  Meiyun introduced Miranda, in English. "I wish to speak English today. I have brought dresses, and the cape. You will want to try them together."

  Wu Yi took two garment bags from Miranda and disappeared into her bedroom. A few minutes later, Miranda and Meiyun heard a long "Yes, yes" float through the open door, and then Wu Yi remmed.

  She was stunningly beautiful: fully made up, her complexion pale and rosy, her eyes darkly outlined, her black hair gleaming. She had left the cape open, and her perfect figure shimmered in gold within the parentheses of black cashmere strewn with gold-outlined magnolias that danced and swirled as she moved.

  "Magnificent," Meiyun said.

  Wu Yi stood before a long mirror. She began to speak in Chinese, then caught Meiyun's gaze and switched to English. "I am very beautiful. And the dress and cape are good. Very good. But the price is too

  high. I am only an actress; I cannot afford such expenses. If you agree to reduce all your prices, I can make you famous and rich. I will buy first from you, always, you and ... who did you say this person is?"

  "Miranda Graham," said Meiyun.

  "Graham. And that blouse she is wearing, with the little gold monkeys ... where did she get it?"

  "In my shop."

  "You let your assistant wear your clothes?"

  Meiyun looked at Miranda.

  "We have a partnership," Miranda said evenly. "The label on our clothes, including the dress and cape you are wearing, is Miranda Meiyun. We have customers in China, Europe and America, and our prices reflect our art, the skill of our manufacturers, and the demand for our designs. The prices are the same all over the world. We do not discount for anyone."

  Meiyun's eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared. But then she began to smile, and her smile grew as broad as her eyebrows were high. "If you do not wish to pay for them," she said to Wu Yi, "we will take them back. I would be sorry, because you look truly magnificent, but—"

  "You will not take them back." Wu Yi gazed at her image. It was clearly a struggle, but fashion won. "I will pay your price this time," she said to Meiyun's reflection. "Next time I may not."

  Meiyun nodded gravely. "The dress needs a slight alteration in the length; I can have it adjusted this evening and returned to you tomorrow."