He 'II come home with me. I know he will. He has to.
The Forbidden City had been home to emperors and empresses and almost twenty thousand administrators, staff people, favorites, and hangers-on. "An unreal place," Li said, "where people pretended they were inviolable: safe from the outside world. Just like us. Pretending."
Miranda nodded. It was true; everything was simple and wonderful when they shut out countries and governments and political systems:
when it was just the two of them and the little space they shared. But the world keeps intervening, she thought. Such an inconsiderate world.
They walked in silence along a maze of corridors, through brick houses opening into courtyards and gardens crouching behind high walls that shut out China, America, the world. "There is nothing like this in America," Miranda said. "We've never had a time when the government walled itself off from the people."
Li put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him. They were alone in a comer of a high-walled courtyard, where papery leaves from crab and plum trees skittered across the broad stones and early October flowers drooped on frail stems. They were alone, most visitors having been frightened off by the forbidding clouds, dark and lowering, heavy with threatened rain. "We have nothing to do with history," he said. "We have nothing to do with governments or political systems. There is just the two of us and what we can build together."
"But you just said that was pretending." She looked at him with such sadness that he felt he could not bear it. "We have everything to do with governments and political systems, and with history. It's what we are, and we can't change it."
A gust of cold wind cut across the courtyard, and Miranda shivered. Li put his arm around her. "We've been outside too long; we need to be warm."
"I don't want to go to a restaurant."
"No. We'll go home."
"Oh. Yes." She settled into the curve of his arm, melting into it in the way that always made him feel he would take on the world to protect her. "Yes," she said again, and then added in a voice so low he barely heard her, "We've seen enough of China."
They did not speak on the drive to Li's house. The clouds seemed even heavier; the air was gunmetal gray. How bleak everything is, Li thought: people bundled in dark jackets, heads bent against the wind; dirty streets lined with flat facades looking blank and hostile with no sunlight to soften them. He drove slowly, looking for something to point out that would lift the gloom, but he found nothing beautiful or beckoning, none of the excitement and vitality and promise that he knew were there. Why would she want to live here, he thought, when she has blue skies and mountains just outside her front door?
He was glad to get home and shut the door on the despondent gloom. They walked together into the serene elegance of the main house, warm and golden from many lamps and the glowing wall where the scholar's rock stood, a symbol of wisdom and eternity. I need them both, Li thought; I have never needed them as much as now.
In the center of the room, they held each other, and then there was a knock at the door and they sprang apart. "Sheng," Li murmured. "I hope." He went to the door.
"I couldn't use the telephone," Sheng said. "They would be listening."
"Of course."
Sheng gave a small bow to Miranda. "I hope you are well."
She smiled at his formality. "Yes. Thank you."
"What happened?" Li asked.
"They've arrested Chao."
"Very fast. Where was it?"
"At the bank. They cleaned out the offices, mine, too, but I hadn't left anything interesting, and then they waited for Chao at the bank. He made a withdrawal this afternoon and they stopped him and took him away."
"How do you know this?"
"I was there, watching. And I've talked to a friend in the State Security Bureau. He said they asked him about a demonstration when the U.S. president is here, and people calling him to check on the time—I heard one of the calls, you know, when I was there; a woman's voice; it sounded very good. Chao denied everything, but he could not explain the calls, or how the papers got into his desk."
"Did he try to blame you?"
There was a pause. "I wasn't going to tell you. A watchman came in while I was there; I never thought of a watchman. Chao didn't tell me he'd hired him. He told Chao I'd been there, so Chao told Security I planted the documents. Of course he recognized them since he was the one who made them in the first place, but how could he defend himself by saying that? It must be driving him crazy. It would be funny, except ... it isn't, because..." He sat down, his hands between his knees. "He'll find a way, you know; somehow he'll find a way to shift the blame to me, even though right now nobody believes him about my planting them. But I've been a part of Dung Chan from the beginning, even though they didn't tell me everything; I've been involved with all the business deals, the piracy ..."
Miranda and Li exchanged a look. "I wasn't sure of the piracy," Li said.
"It was so profitable, so easy; even when things went wrong I could fix them. But that's just it: / fixed them. When Chao tells Security to check with the people in Beihai, they'll find out."
"Why would Chao tell them?" Li asked. "If the piracy was a Dung Chan enterprise, why would he dig himself deeper into a hole? Even if
he did, why would anyone in Beihai—I assume you mean people like the mayor and the chief of police—admit to being on your payroll?"
Sheng scowled. "I don't know."
"They have every reason not to. As for Dung Chan itself, you said you cleaned out your desk?"
Sheng nodded.
"And the documents you planted mention no one but Pan Chao, and have his signature. And the telephone messages all refer to him by name. It's true that you are part-owner of the nightclubs, but that is legal, and in fact encouraged; you would be commended for that. For everything else, you were a flunky at Dung Chan, an errand boy; you knew nothing and participated in nothing."
"That's not true! For two years I was a partner in—"
"Sheng," Miranda said quietly, "your father is saving your neck. Pay attention and don't argue with him."
He stared at her. "Oh." His face changed as the realization sank in. ''Gao shi," he swore. "To have that story get out, to have to pretend it's true ..."
"It probably will not get out," said Li. "Chao isn't big news; neither are the stories around him. He will be imprisoned for a few years, and possibly Enli, too, and few people will notice, and then he will be free to begin again, and I am sure he will. But by then you will be so busy at All-China Construction you won't have time to notice."
Sheng thought about it. "But, still, they'll take me in for questioning. I've never been interrogated; I've always been on the other side, you know .. . safe."
"You're still safe," Li said. "Think of a good reason for being in your office when the watchman saw you, and don't change it. They'll ask you a hundred times why you were there; you must give the same answer, the same way, a hundred times. It will be unpleasant but not fatal."
"They'll put me under surveillance."
"One can live with that."
"I thought there was something wrong with people who were, that they were guilty of something, or too stupid to do things right."
"It's like being sent away during the Cultural Revolution," Li said quietly.
Sheng's face flooded with embarrassment.
"You were a child," Miranda said. "Children think grownups are all-powerful, so they can't understand that when bad things happen to them, it might not be their fauh."
Frowning, Sheng looked at her as if trying to see beyond her words.
"It wasn't your fault, or your father's," Miranda said. "It was a terrible time that made everything seem wrong. Whatever you said or thought didn't fit anywhere because your whole world was off balance."
He was staring at her. "How do you know all that?"
"Li told me about it."
"Told you."
"I know it's not the same as being here, living th
rough it, but still I can try to understand it. I want to understand what you all went through."
Sheng nodded. After a moment, he held out his hand. "Thank you for saying what you did, for trying to make me feel better."
"I hope it helped."
"Someday, when I can think about it some more, it will."
Their hands clasped and stayed that way for a long moment.
"I must go home," Sheng said, embarrassment in his face again. "I need to warn Peng Jia and Rongji that Security will come for me."
Peng Jia and Rongji, Li thought. Sheng's family. I hope it lasts. I hope I will have my own.
"You did well," he said to his son. "I'm proud of you."
"No, I am proud of you," said Sheng. "I did not think you would do anything like this."
"I hope never again. I'll see you tomorrow; I'll be at the office by noon."
"Goodbye," Sheng said to Miranda. "Perhaps we will see each other again."
"I leave tomorrow," Miranda said. "I hope all goes well with you."
Sheng looked at his father, but learned nothing from his face. He and Miranda shook hands again, quickly, and then he was gone.
"You'll be friends now," Miranda said into the silence. "I'm glad."
Li pulled her to him and kissed her. They held each other and he ached with the wishes clamoring within him. I wish she would say that she cannot leave, she cannot imagine living anywhere without me, she wants the success she can find here more quickly than in America, she wants to become the person she has always dreamed of being. I wish, I wish, I wish.
But she had said she wanted to go home.
In the kitchen, he made tea and took it to the living room. He turned on still more lamps and they curled up at opposite ends of a deep couch, facing each other, and when Miranda stretched out, Li took her feet onto his lap, running his hands over the silky nylon, feeling each fine bone and the deep curve of her arch. Desire filled him as he held
those slender feet, and he closed his eyes, fighting against reaching for her, fighting the memory of skin on skin and the smooth wet passage she opened to him. Not now, he thought. For now, they had to talk. He opened his eyes. "Are you warmer now?"
"Yes, this is so lovely."
"Then stay here. This is your home, yours and your children's. We will make a life here, together. We can do it, Miranda, I have thought so much about it. You can work with Meiyun, perhaps with others whom you have met here; we will find tutors for Adam and Lisa until they can go to school..." His voice trailed away as the enormity of it swept over him.
"You see," Miranda said.
"No. I mean, of course it will be difficult, all of us will have problems to solve, but you and I will be together and everything else shrinks next to that. Dearest Miranda, we have love, we have laughter, we have joy in life and the life we can make, we have dreams. They are good, those dreams, they are about the best we are and the best we can be if we are together, nurturing each other, supporting, sharing... . Sharing. The most beautiful word. How can we brush our dreams away and say we do not want them?"
"I do want them. You know I do."
"There is plenty of room: the building off the bedroom would be your office and studio, and Adam and Lisa will have their own rooms in the building off the living room. They can furnish them with whatever they want, with television and VCR's and explosion boxes—that does not sound right."
"Boom boxes. Li, I don't think—"
"And we will have a large family," he said, refusing to stop his flight. "You have made Sheng admire you and like you, and Shuiying, too; we will be a real family. And you and I will be together, and at the end of each day we will talk about our work, we will cook together or go to little restaurants, we will talk about the books we are reading, we will share our thoughts, we will hsten to music and watch television and when something reminds us of something we did together, our eyes will meet and we will understand without speaking. My God, can you let us lose all of that when we have only tasted it, without giving us a chance to make it grow and fill our lives?"
He leaned forward, holding her feet tightly to his chest. "Miranda, I love you. Everything inside me stretches out to you. I want to give you all that I have so that you never again worry about money, and have the freedom to do the work you want to do. I want you to feel loved and protected.... You were the one who said it, remember? You wanted a
love that flowed, there would be a flow, you said, without words, of giving and receiving, of understanding, of laughing and crying together, of being astonished together at the wonders of the world. We found that, we have it together, I want that for you: that you know you are wanted and needed and you will never be alone or lonely again. I want you to be happy."
In the golden lamplight, Li saw tears make glistening tracks on Miranda's cheeks, and she did not raise her hand to wipe them away.
"There is nothing I would not do," he said quietly, "to make you happy."
She raised her head higher. "Then come with me to America."
Her hands were clasped tightly and she held them beneath her chin, her body taut with intensity. "I want you to love what I have, what I've known all my life. I want you to share it with me. I like that word, too, Li, but sharing isn't tied to a place, it's tied to us. I want to share everything with you, but we have to think of other things, too, all the things that make life easy or hard or pleasant or unpleasant. If you come with me, you'll live in freedom. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Doesn't everyone?"
"Yes. Everyone does." He looked at his hands, holding Miranda's slender feet. All the sirens are singing to me, he thought. Luring me to places of dreams and visions. And I want to go. I want this woman, and the life she is offering me. I cannot imagine saying goodbye to her, living without her. I cannot imagine awakening in the morning and reaching out to find emptiness, or looking across a dinner table at emptiness, or walking through the city and turning to share a thought and finding emptiness. This love came to me so unexpectedly, so late, so won-drously. I do not think I could bear the end of it.
"Li," Miranda said softly, and he looked up. She was leaning forward, reaching a hand to him, and they moved together, shifting their positions until they were almost touching. She took his hands in hers and kissed them. "I love you, I love you. I was so sure I'd never find someone to love, someone I wanted to live with, and I can't think about losing you; it hurts too much. I can't imagine saying goodbye to you; I can't imagine not being with you every day, eating and sleeping and sightseeing and talking. We always have so much to talk about; we need a lifetime to talk about everything and to learn all we can about each other. Don't you feel that way? How can we let it end?"
I can't, I can't, he thought. She is the whole world to me.
He pulled her to him and kissed her, driving his tongue into her mouth. He stood, drawing her up with him, and in the bedroom they undressed each other with mindless urgency, frantic to be together, to
be inside each other, to clutch and strolce and hold as tightly as arms and legs and mouths could hold, to take and give and have, and let the maelstrom of a passion they were sure of, the one thing they were absolutely sure of, sweep away the words that could not be resolved. Not yet.
When they were quiet again, they heard rain drumming on the roof, and they lay together, Li's head on Miranda's breast, breathing in unison, and, above their breathing, wind and rain. Li listened to the rain with a kind of wonder. "Everything goes on. Whatever we do, there will be seasons and births and deaths; trees and plants will grow, and birds will sing, and storms will sweep around the earth in a great circle, touching everyone. How unimportant we are."
"No, not true." Her voice was warm and slow. "Small, maybe, when you look at the whole world, but we're very important. And love is important. How do you know the seasons would still be there, and rain and snow and birds, without it?"
He smiled at her serious look. "I don't know. But I would like to think that they would not be." He ran his fingers across her f
orehead and down the bridge of her nose. "Such a lovely small nose. Do you know, Americans are called Big Nose in China, but yours is small, smaller even than mine. So perhaps I am the foreigner, not you."
"Maybe you are. Maybe you don't really belong here at all. You said yourself once that you wished you could leave it all behind."
"But I also said that that would be running away, and that was something I do not do."
"It wouldn't be running away if you came with me. It would be moving to a new life." She kissed him, a long, slow, searching kiss that aroused him and made him feel that he was dissolving into her, and she into him, that there was no more separation, no boundary or space between them, no cleft for a wedge to pry or a wall to rise. He felt a leap of exultation, because he had never known such unity, the dream of every human being, lonely in a lonely world, and he lay on her and her legs spread wide to bring him in, then clasped him and pulled him into her, so smoothly, so easily, their separate outlines vanishing, that Li knew their unity had taken pure form: W? are one person: one body, one heart, one consciousness. The branches of one tree. And nothing can tear us apart.
They made love with a new kind of joy: they rolled on the bed like children, laughing and breathless, Miranda on top of Li or stretched out beneath him, the two of them on their sides facing each other, lips clinging, legs entwined. They knelt and crouched and swayed and curled together back to front, like half moons nestled one into the
other, drinking in each other's pleasure, feehng gratefulness and love enhanced, doubled, reflected, endlessly renewed.
Through the long evening, and into the night, while rain drummed on the roof, settling now and then into a soft patter before rising with renewed fury, they made love, exploring and searching, as if, Li thought some time after midnight, they were building a store of memories, a catalogue of whatever was new to them, so that they could refer to it later and recapture this night, every moment of it, even in an empty bed—
"No," he said aloud.
Miranda, drowsy beside him, opened her eyes. "What is it? What won't you do?"
"I won't lose you. I won't sleep in an empty bed or face empty days and weeks, an empty hfe; I can't live that way. I'll go with you to America, I'll do whatever you want, whatever we must do, but I won't let you go."
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