by Ha Jin
The two brothers were chatting and drinking tea while Shuyu was cooking in the kitchen. Hua was with her mother, working the bellows by the cauldron. Lin overheard his wife order the child, “Girl, don’t suck that cane while you’re working.”
“I didn’t. I just keep it here,” Hua said.
“I say put the cane away.”
“No, I want to have it here.”
“Give me it!”
Lin shouted to his wife in the kitchen, “Let Hua have it her own way, okay?” That stopped the exchange between mother and daughter.
Lin had never felt attached to Ren because they had not grown up together. In their adolescent years, Lin had gone to school most of the time while Ren worked in the fields. Yet he was grateful to his elder brother, who had never complained about the arrangement made by their parents, which deprived him of the opportunity of education. Ren hadn’t even finished elementary school. Looking at his brother’s scarred face, which had been hurt by a rock twenty years ago at a construction site, Lin felt bad for him. Because of the injury Ren had married on condition that he live under the roof of his parents-in-law, who were unwilling to let their only daughter leave home. That was why Lin’s wife later had to take care of his parents. Ren was merely forty-five now, but he looked about sixty and had already lost three front teeth. His mouth was sunken.
“Brother, you should’ve talked to me before going to the court with Shuyu,” Ren said, placing his teacup on the wooden edge of the brick bed after taking a sip.
“This is my personal matter,” Lin said tersely.
“But our parents chose Shuyu for you. Shouldn’t you respect their wish?”
“It’s their wish that messed up my life.”
“Why so?” Ren dragged on his pipe, the tobacco in the bronze bowl glowing red and sizzling faintly. He would never take the cigarettes Lin gave him, saying they were too mild. Seeing that Lin was reluctant to reply, he added, “A man ought to have a conscience. I can’t see where Shuyu is not worthy of you. She’s given everything to our family. We should take—”
“Like I said, this is my personal matter.”
“Maybe not. A divorce will affect everybody in our family. Kids in my village have already started calling your nephews names, saying, ‘Your uncle has two wives,’ or, ‘Your uncle is a womanizer.’ How can you say a divorce is just your own affair?”
Lin was shocked by the question. How ridiculous people are, he thought. How far-fetched their ideas can be. What does my marriage have to do with my nephews’ lives? Why should the boys feel ashamed of me?
The bellows stopped in the kitchen. He overheard his wife say to Hua, “Go tell your uncle.”
He wondered why Shuyu had sent their daughter to Bensheng. As he was thinking, the door curtain made of strings of glass beads opened and in came his wife with a plate of fried pork. “Time to eat,” she said and smiled at Ren.
Lin took out two wine cups. His brother always enjoyed drinking and was famous in the commune for his ability to hold alcohol. Once chosen to accompany some official guests, Ren had outdrunk the county vice-magistrate, who had gone to the village to present medals but ended up lying under a dining table. “What would you like?” Lin asked Ren, though he had only two kinds of liquor.
“Anything. I really don’t feel like drinking today.”
“Drink some to refresh yourself,” Shuyu said. “You must be tired out, such a long way.”
Lin opened a bottle of sorghum liquor called White Flame and poured a full cup for his brother and half a cup for himself. Meanwhile Shuyu placed another three dishes on the table—scrambled eggs with onions, sautéed pole beans, and fried peanuts mixed with a pinch of salt.
As they were eating, Hua returned, announcing with a cry, “Uncle’s coming.”
Lin frowned when his brother-in-law entered. In Bensheng’s left hand was a package wrapped in straw paper. He grinned at Ren, saying in a familiar tone of voice, “Welcome, elder brother, you came at the right time.” He stretched out his hand to Ren.
After they shook hands, Bensheng turned and called to his sister in the kitchen, “Shuyu, get me a plate.”
Lin was amazed that Bensheng seemed to know Ren quite well. Did he arrange my brother’s visit? he asked himself.
Shuyu brought an empty plate and put it on the table.
“My goodness, what are these?” she said as her brother opened the package.
“Big worms,” said Hua.
“Are these some sort of insects?” Ren asked, pointing at the red creatures on the plate, each about three inches long.
“Shrimp,” Bensheng told them proudly. “Haven’t you heard of shrimp?”
“I have, but I never saw one,” said Ren.
“This is my first time too,” Bensheng confessed. “I bought them in the county town this morning. When I saw them for sale, I thought, ‘Damn, a man must try new things, or he’ll die with regret.’ So I bought two pounds. Boy, they’re expensive, seven yuan a pound. I was told they came from the South and used to be a kind of export stuff that only foreigners could eat.”
Lin was surprised by their ignorance. Then he recalled that he had never seen shrimp at the market in Wujia Town, though it was on the river. Doesn’t the Songhua have shrimp in it? he wondered. Probably not.
As Lin was thinking, his brother asked, “Are they still alive?”
Both Bensheng and Lin were amused by the question. Lin tried hard to keep back his laughter, but he blurted out, “Yes, alive.”
Ren picked one up. “I’m going to sample it anyway, alive or dead. You know, Hua, I eat anything that has more than four legs except for a table.” He put the shrimp into this mouth and began munching. “Ouch, it bit my tongue!” He grimaced and covered his mouth with his hand.
“Uncle, is your mouth bleeding inside?” Hua asked innocently. “Can I see it?”
Lin burst out laughing. “Hua, he knew they were cooked. He just wanted to be funny.”
“I don’t think that’s the right way to eat shrimp, though,” Bensheng said. “Am I right, Lin?”
All eyes turned to Lin, who, still laughing, was making a kind of bubbling sound in his nose. He stopped to reply, “Yes, you’re right. You should get rid of the shell, the claws, and the head first. Like this, use your hand.” He stripped the shell from a shrimp and removed the dark dorsal vein, then put it into his mouth. “Umm, it’s good, very fresh.”
Following his example, the others, except Hua, started to eat the shrimp with relish. The girl was frightened by the crimson creatures and refused to touch one.
Lin put a shelled shrimp in her bowl, but Hua tried to get it out. Bensheng took a sip of White Flame from his cup and said, “Hua, you must try it. It’s delicious.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Haven’t you eaten silkworm pupas?”
“Yes.”
“This is ten times more delicious. Come, give it a try.”
Timidly the girl nibbled the tail of the shrimp. “Tastes good, eh?” Bensheng asked.
Hua nodded and went on eating it, while the grown-ups were laughing. “This girl only listens to her uncle,” her mother said.
After Hua finished the shrimp, Bensheng put another into her bowl, but she wouldn’t eat more, however hard they tried to persuade her. Her father picked it out of her bowl and ate it himself.
Ren Kong had to leave before eight o’clock because he had to walk nine miles home. Bensheng was on his way to give an account of the annual balance to the production brigade’s leaders, so he couldn’t stay longer either. After dinner, Lin took out a ten-yuan bill and put it into Ren’s hand, saying, “Brother, my hospital doesn’t stock Tower Candy, so I couldn’t bring any back. Please use this money to buy some at the commune department store for my nephews.”
“You don’t have to give me money. I just thought we might get Tower Candy free.”
“Take it, please.”
Ren put the money into his breast pocket. Without drinking tea, t
he men all got to their feet. As they were leaving the house, Ren stretched up his arms and said, “Ah, I’ve eaten shrimp at last!” He wouldn’t take a small bag of taros Shuyu wanted him to carry back for his wife, explaining it would be too heavy for the long way. Shuyu didn’t insist.
At the front gate, they parted company, Bensheng heading in the opposite direction while Lin walked Ren out of the village. Lin was moved and even happy as it crossed his mind that he had not laughed so much in many years. He felt a tenderness toward Ren, who was breathing rather heavily thanks to the liquor he had drunk and carrying his blue jacket in the crook of his left arm. Ren’s footsteps were long and firm.
“Brother,” Lin said, “can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Ren paused and turned his head.
“Did Bensheng invite you to come?”
“No, I came of my own free will. He and I are friends of a sort, but we’ve had no direct contact. To be fair, he isn’t that fine a man, but he’s always been good to Shuyu and Hua. That’s why I like him.”
“I know that, brother. Have a safe trip back. Give my greetings to your wife and kids.”
“I will. Take good care of yourself, Lin. You’re thinner than last year.”
As Ren was climbing the bulging slope, on which a few cattle were still grazing, Lin stood under an elm tree, watching his brother moving away. His mind returned to the shrimp dinner. He remembered that he had decided not to speak to Bensheng again, but somehow he had forgotten his decision. Now he and Bensheng seemed to have remained in-laws. If only he could have put on a hard face. If only he could have cut all his ties with that crafty man.
The still moon hung like a gold sickle. Ren’s white shirt was wavering on the hill, getting smaller and smaller. Three minutes later it disappeared into the darkness.
4
A week after Lin returned to his army post, Ran Su, who was now the director of the hospital’s Political Department, wanted to talk with him. Lin feared that the county court must have reported him to the hospital’s Party Committee. Now he seemed to be in trouble.
After lunch, Director Su and Lin went out of the compound, walking toward the middle school, which was three hundred yards southeast of the hospital. Ran Su’s splayed feet were very large in comparison with his small stature and slight build. He wore shoes of black cloth, one of which had a hole in the toe. But it was patched up in dense stitches, obviously by his wife, who had recently come to live with him in the army so that their son could start elementary school here.
“How did the divorce go?” he asked Lin.
“The court didn’t approve it.”
“Why?”
“My brother-in-law and his buddies made a scene outside the courthouse.”
Ran Su moistened his cracked lower lip with his tongue and said, “Take heart—it will work out.”
In silence they continued walking. Lin was puzzled that Ran Su didn’t ask more about the divorce. It seemed that the director had something else on his mind.
They sat down in the shade of an acacia tree. In the distance the gray school building appeared whitish in the blazing sun, most of its windows open and a dozen furled flags standing atop the slate-blue roof. To Lin’s right, a group of students were pulling up grass on the edge of the soccer field. They were all squatting on their haunches, a few in topees but most of them bareheaded. They looked like a herd of grazing sheep, and their slow motion was almost invisible. “Stupid,” Director Su said. “Why are they getting rid of all the grass? It will be dustier in the fall.”
Lin smiled and handed him a cigarette.
Ran Su lit it and asked, “Lin, do you know of Vice-Commissar Wei of the Provincial Military Command?”
“I’ve heard of him.”
“He’s a well-educated man, an eloquent speaker, and has a remarkable memory for words.”
“What happened to him?”
“He divorced his wife two months ago, and now he’s looking for a fiancée.”
Lin looked at him fixedly. Ran Su went on, “I want to tell you something, but you musn’t lose your temper.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Commissar Wei asked our hospital to recommend to him a suit-able woman. I guess he wants to marry a nurse or a doctor because he needs a wife to take care of his health. He’s in his fifties, and most girls here are too young for him, so the Party Committee has been considering Manna Wu as a candidate. Among all the old maids she’s the best-looking.” He paused to observe Lin’s face, which showed little change. He went on, “But we haven’t made the final decision yet. If you’re seriously opposed to this, I may be able to say a word on your behalf when we discuss it at the next meeting.”
Lin remained silent for a long while, his eyes fixed on a scarlet butterfly fluttering on a leaf of a baby fern. Nearby was a troop of large ants busy transporting the dried hulk of a beetle back toward an anthill four or five feet away. Lin plucked a blade of wild buckwheat and put it between his white teeth. A numb feeling stirred in his chest.
Ran Su said again, “Come on, Lin, tell me what you think.”
“Does Manna know of this?”
“Yes. We talked to her when you were away. She said she’d consider it.”
“She hasn’t given you her answer yet?”
“No.”
Lin spat the blade of buckwheat to the ground and said, “Perhaps this will do her good. If Commissar Wei agrees to marry her, that will be fine with me.”
Director Su looked at him in amazement. After a pause he said, “You’re a kindhearted man, Lin. Few men would give up their woman so willingly. Some would go berserk if such a thing happened to them.”
Lin cleared his throat. “I haven’t said everything yet. I have two conditions, if Commissar Wei really wants her.”
“What are they?”
“First, he must raise her rank two rungs up. Second, he must promise to send her to college in the near future.”
Ran Su looked astonished, then burst out into a roar of laughter. Lin was puzzled by his reaction and asked, “What are you laughing at? You think I’m crazy?”
“You are so earnest, my brother. I can see you really love her.” Ran Su held his nose with his thumb and forefinger and blew it on the grass. He went on, “But who are you? You’ve forgotten you’re neither her fiancé nor her bridegroom. In fact, it’s inappropriate for any one of us to tell Commissar Wei what to do. Even our Party Committee can’t do that.”
Lin knit his thick eyebrows without saying a word. Ran Su kept on, “Don’t worry yourself about the conditions. If he marries Manna Wu, of course he’ll try to have her promoted and improve her status. My question to you is whether you would let her go.”
After long silence, Lin muttered as though to himself, “I’m a married man and shouldn’t hold her back. It’s entirely up to her.”
“Lin, you have a big heart.”
They got up, dusting themselves off. By accident, Lin had sat on a yellow mushroom. Touching the wet spot on the seat of his pants, he turned around and asked Ran Su, “How big is the stain?”
“Just the size of an egg.”
“Damn, is it very obvious?”
“No problem. If it was on the front, it would leave a small map there and make you more attractive to girls.” Ran Su laughed.
“I don’t know if Manna can wash it off,” Lin muttered. Since the year before last Manna had been doing laundry for him, as most fiancées would do for their men.
They turned back to the barracks. Director Su asked Lin not to reveal their talk to Manna, because he didn’t want her to feel he was interfering with her personal affairs. Lin promised he wouldn’t say a word.
Manna talked with Lin about Commissar Wei three days later. They both believed this was an opportunity she shouldn’t miss. The man was a top officer in the province—if her relationship with him developed successfully, he could arrange for her to be transferred to Harbin. That would open a bright future for her. Possibly the commissa
r could place her in a crash program for training doctors or in a college to earn a diploma.
In his heart Lin was quite upset about the possibility of losing Manna. He was also angry with the commissar, who could choose any woman simply because he had power and rank. As a man, he was as smart as that old bastard, probably more handsome. Why couldn’t he keep Manna? The commissar must have plenty of women already, but he had only one woman. How true the saying was: A well-fed man can never feel a beggar’s hunger pangs. Lin was unhappy with Manna too, who, in his eyes, seemed eager to jump at such an opportunity. He said to himself, See how she loves power. She can’t wait to drop me.
At the same time, a feeling of relief had been settling in him, because this new development meant that he might not have to push for a divorce every summer—to stir up that hornet’s nest in the countryside. If he tried to divorce Shuyu again, heaven knew what kind of tricks his brother-in-law would devise against him. If this state of affairs dragged on, sooner or later Bensheng would come to the hospital to nab him. A few days ago he had told Manna about the judge’s demand, and she had said she was unsure whether Lin should give out her name to the court in the future.
Bad-tempered and sarcastic, he began to make fun of Manna whenever he could. At the end of their table tennis game one evening, seeing no one else in the room, Lin said to her, “When you become that big officer’s wife, don’t forget me, a small powerless doctor who used to play Ping-Pong with you every week. I’ll appreciate that.”
“For pity’s sake, stop it!” she snapped, scowling.
“It’s just a joke.”
“You think I enjoy going through this thing? I feel like I’m trying to sell myself.”
“Don’t take that to heart. I mean—”
“I hate it! You’re so happy because finally you can get rid of me.”
Her eyes were flashing with anger. She put her Double Happiness paddle into its green canvas case and zipped it up. Without another word she walked out of the room.
