On Such a Full Sea: A Novel

by Lee, Chang-rae

  But then one morning, just after Fan put Josey on the shuttle, they came down together, both showered and neatly dressed, Oliver in a crisply pressed shirt and flannel slacks and Betty, to Fan’s instant notice, wearing the outfit matching the one she had for reuniting with Reg.

  We did it, Oliver said, raising his hands. Betty was covering her mouth.

  The contract? Fan said.

  Yes! they both said. It went through!

  The helpers started hopping and clapping, and Fan did, too.

  But then Oliver nudged Betty, and she gasped: And also Reg!

  Fan didn’t know what to say.

  Go up and change, Fan, Betty told her, tears in her eyes.

  It’s a long drive to where he is, Oliver said. So let’s get ready. We’ll want to leave soon.

  • • •

  WHAT HASTY PREPARATIONS we make for our future. Think of it: it seems almost tragic, the things we’re sure we ought to bring along. We pack too heavy with what we hope we’ll use, and too light of what we must. We thus go forth misladen, ill equipped for the dawn.

  But not so our Fan. She wasn’t a prophetic one, as we know, or always ever ready, nor was she chosen, at last, to lead anyone but herself. For at every turn, whether she bore a full satchel or one slim or nothing at all, she stood resolved, her boldness not one that simply pushed her forward but rather fixed her, solid, on the very spot she found herself. Where you are. Did this make her impervious? Heroic and wise? Not at all. She was as subject to chance and malice as the rest of us. She could only entertain hopes for the future. But we know very well that there was a quality about this rootedness, which, unlike the rest of us, she never bemoaned or fought or disbelieved, that every person who met her couldn’t help but recognize with a gentle trembling.

  Betty accompanied Fan upstairs. Despite Oliver’s advice that they should soon get on the road—only he was going to go with her in the livery car, as it might end up an overnight or maybe two, with Betty staying back with the kids—she suggested Fan take a soaking bath, after which Betty said she would paint her nails and help her with her hair, which was still in a simple bob. Maybe they would get the curling iron out, or even give Fan a wave, one of the helpers likely having a box of instant perm. While the tub was filling (and seasoned with several scoops of Betty’s fancy lavender-scented salts), Fan packed a small overnight bag, a blouse and nice sweater and a pair of jeans Betty had recently bought for her. That was going to be all but Betty thought she should take along a few more outfits, in case they allowed her to see him through several days. So Pinah brought up a much bigger bag, this one with wheels, and after merely half filling it with the various options of what they’d laid out on the bed, Betty went ahead and larded on other pieces from Fan’s closet, leaving just enough room for a toiletries bag.

  You never know what you’ll feel like, Betty said, telling her that even if it was only another day’s visit, she’d have plenty of choices for what she might like to wear. Really, who could tell until right then!

  This seemed reasonable enough, of course, though while she lay in the slightly too warm bath, her head propped on an air pillow, Fan must have felt that something was amiss, that Betty was being a bit too indulgent, even for her. Had they changed their mind about her and Reg residing there? Had it been just their sentimental dream? If this was so, we are sure, she would tell Reg that she was only grateful for their company, for their care and aid, and that she would miss Josey and the twins and the helpers, too, for all the good mayhem and laughter, and that she did not regret a moment along Betty’s Lane. No need to linger.

  So she rose from the tub and peeked into the bedroom and was surprised to see that Betty was still sitting on the bed, awaiting her while messaging on her handscreen. Betty quickly put it in her pocket when she noticed Fan. They did her nails, finishing them plainly with a clear lacquer, and they decided in the end that Betty should simply give her ends a trim, so that she would look fresh and neat. In fact, after the cut and the lightest dabbing of blush Betty applied, she looked as fit and fine as ever, perhaps never so much life arisen in her face. While Pinah and now another helper, Violet, took down her bag, Fan changed into the special outfit, and when she came out, Betty took her hand and they regarded themselves in the mirrored doors of the closet passage, the two of them looking like any sister divers back in B-Mor.

  Are you ready? Betty asked her.

  Fan nodded.

  They went down the stairs together. The front door was open and through the clear pane of the storm door they could see Pinah and Violet letting the bag bump down each stoop step to the sidewalk. Betty now said she had to call about a furniture delivery and that Fan should wait outside. Her car was coming any minute.

  Besides, she said, I despise good-byes, even for just the briefest trips.

  Shouldn’t I wait? Fan said, glancing upstairs, where she knew Oliver was still packing and changing.

  He’ll be down very soon. Oh, look, here it is.

  A silver sedan with darkened windows rolled up, and out from it emerged a squat, burly driver in a shiny blazer that pinched at his underarms.

  Okay, no good-byes. I’ll see you very soon, okay?

  Okay, Fan said. Very soon.

  Still, Betty opened her arms, beckoning her, and Fan let herself be taken in. And it was surprising how Betty gave her the deepest hug she’d ever felt, from Reg included, like the woman would sooner perish than let her go. But then she did.

  Now hurry.

  The very notion, we fear, Fan was thinking herself as she skipped down the stoop. Now hurry back toward B-Mor. Now hurry to sweet Reg. For if there is ever a moment when we are most vulnerable, it’s when we’re closest to the idea of the attained desire, and thus farthest from ourselves, which is when we’ll tread through any flame.

  While Pinah and Violet pecked her on the cheek, the man hefted the big bag with one hand into the trunk of the sedan. She looked back at the door and Betty was gone.

  Miss Fan? the driver said, and when she acknowledged him, he said Please and took her by the arm and guided her to the rear door. Please, he said again as he felt her begin to resist, his stiff fingertips pressing a nerve of her elbow she did not know was there. She heard mewls of panicked confusion from Pinah and Violet. Her knees almost gave way.

  Please!

  Before she could speak, she was in the cave of the car, propping herself up in the backseat, her eyes not yet adjusting. It smelled just cleaned. They were already rolling forward, just turning out onto the real street. And they passed another silver sedan, oddly enough, on its way into Betty’s Lane. Fan realized there was a second person in the front, who now ordered the driver to speed up, to go as fast as he could.

  I like your outfit, he said, turning to her now.

  It was Vik. Gentle-eyed Vik. It’s a good one for traveling. But the question now, little one, is where would you like to go?

  Where indeed.

  Where would you go, dear Fan?

  Where would you have Vik direct the car, as Betty had asked him to, unable as she was to abide her husband’s plan? For Liwei was going to deliver you not to anywhere near us and Reg but to the pharmacorp, in the hope that someone bearing Reg’s legacies would be fair exchange for their final purchase of his work. Or at least that was his intention. Could he have done it? Truly tendered you so? We know that at the very moment the guard post’s gate bar was lifted and you flew out, Oliver had stepped down the stoop himself with his own overnight bag and was ushered into the car. But there he found only Betty in the backseat and knew immediately what she had done. Did they fight? Did they cry? Did they speak of love and doom? All we know is that they remained inside, and the car did not soon move.

  The other one, we will have to dream, traveled swift and wide and far. It went in a direction away from us, you knowing now that you must be left somewhere you’d go unnoticed a
nd undisturbed, at least for a good long while. For that time would be coming; there could not be any more travails. So perhaps you went north, where people wouldn’t think to look, or south for a winter’s warmth, or maybe westward, that ready route, drawing you forth to reach another sea.

  But sometimes, we’re sure, you’re much closer than we know, waiting out word of Reg in some modest but nice place, maybe like the one Mala spoke of. We can almost see it now, small but tidy, emptied of its household save for a black-clad girl, the brightest shape we know.

  Don’t hurry, Fan.

  Stay put for now.

  We’ll find a way.

  You need not come back for us.