Waiting
Page 17
Having squatted in the corner for almost twenty minutes, she was terrified to realize that not a drop of semen had drained out. She remembered the burning moment of his ejaculation, which had lasted for almost half a minute. Does this mean that his sperm has already gone deep into my uterus and found an ovum? she wondered. No, it can’t be so quick, can it?
She stood up, put on a fresh pair of pajamas, and picked up the basin. With a towel over her shoulder, she went out to fetch some water. Once she was out of the bedroom, the cold air in the drafty corridor made her wince, and she felt her face prickling and clammy, as though it were swollen. This couldn’t have been inflicted by the slap, which had landed on her jaw. Soon her entire face began smarting. Apparently Geng Yang’s saliva was still stinging her skin. In the washroom, she emptied the basin and filled it with cold water, scrubbing her face with the towel again and again. She changed water three times, but the reek of his saliva seemed to cling to her skin. She remembered when she was a child, a yellow-banded caterpillar had once stung her neck; now the same kind of prickle was all over her face and throat.
Back in the bedroom, she took off her clothes and began washing herself in hopes of getting rid of the fishy odor and the remaining semen in her. The odor, however, didn’t disappear; it was as if everything in the room were impregnated with it. She thought of burning her panties, but it occurred to her that they might be useful as evidence, so she wrapped them up in a shirt and put the bundle on the wooden board under her bed. As for the semen, even after she had jumped up and down thirty times, not a drop of it came out. She had no idea how much of it had entered her uterus. This uncertainty frightened her.
That night, not daring to arouse her roommates’ suspicion, she covered her head with her quilt and wept noiselessly, unable to decide whether she should tell somebody about the rape. How she was longing to cry in a pair of warm, reliable arms and let out everything bottled up in her. Or if only she had had a house for herself, where she could cry to her heart’s content and yell at the top of her lungs without being heard by others. But in this small room shared by four people, she kept her left hand around her throat all the while, until the weeping exhausted her and she fell asleep.
10
Manna’s eyes became blue-lidded the next morning. The nurses in the Medical Ward asked her why she looked so pallid, and they advised her to take a day off. She told them that she was allergic to the fried beltfish they had eaten the day before, but she felt much better now. She was amazed by her ability to come up with such an answer. For the whole morning, whenever the telephone rang, she would rush to answer it. Despite having a tearing headache and intense hatred for Geng Yang, she was expecting to hear from him, because she fancied that he might apologize to her and blame alcohol for what had happened. It seemed to her that the whole thing wasn’t over yet. If he called and begged her for forgiveness, she wouldn’t forgive him, and instead she would give him a round of blood-curdling curses.
Not having heard from him by midday, she phoned the Department of Infectious Diseases and was told that Geng Yang had checked out early in the morning, that a new patient had just moved into the room, and that a satchel containing some books had been left in the nurses’ office for her to pick up. This information brought a flood of tears from her. Evidently Geng Yang had planned the rape. But it was too late to have him detained, as he had left Muji and the crime scene had been transformed.
What should she do? She was at a loss.
In the afternoon she tried keeping herself busy by doing whatever she could—wiping clean all the tables and chairs in the office, fetching boiled water for some patients, sorting and listing the sacks of holiday gifts donated by civilians—shoe pads, tobacco pouches, notebooks, preserved fruits, woolen gloves, candies. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Geng Yang’s ghostly face would thrust itself into her view from time to time. Lacking an appetite, she didn’t eat dinner that evening.
She had no friend except for Haiyan. Unable to hold back her feelings any longer, she went the next evening to Haiyan’s home, which was in a dormitory house at the east end of the hospital compound. Haiyan’s husband, Honggan, was an officer in charge of recreational activities in the Propaganda Section. Haiyan had married him mainly because he could write and speak well; she had once revealed to Manna that she would never marry a doctor, who in her eyes was no more than a well-trained technician. She wanted an abler man.
“Come on in, Manna,” Haiyan said, pleased to see her.
Her husband was clearing the dining table. At the sight of Manna, he nodded and turned off the radio. He was a tall man with a carbuncular face and two gold teeth. Although Haiyan was happy with her marriage, many people would comment behind her back, “A fresh rose is planted on a cowpat.”
“Haiyan,” Manna whispered, “I want to talk to you. This is something just between us, very personal.”
Haiyan took her into the bedroom. “What is it?” she asked, placing both hands on her protruding belly. She had been pregnant for five months.
“I—I was raped.”
“What?”
“I was raped by Geng Yang.”
“How did it happen?”
“He lured me into his room and raped me.”
“Slow down. Say it clearly. What do you mean he lured you into his room?”
In a shaky voice Manna described how he had invited her to the ward and what he had done to her. Tears were trickling down her face. Now and then her tongue stuck out licking the tears from her upper lip.
Honggan cried from the other room, “Haiyan, I’ve left some hot water on the stove. If you want tea, you can use it. I’m leaving now.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my office.”
“All right, come back early.” She turned to Manna and asked, “Have you reported him to the Security Section?”
“No. I don’t know what to do.”
“Where’s Geng Yang now?”
“He left for his home yesterday morning. Should I report it?”
“Let me think.” Haiyan frowned, a slanting wrinkle on either side of her nose.
“I’m afraid nobody will believe me,” Manna added, and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Manna, I think it may be too late now. It will be very hard to prove that you didn’t have a date with him unless Geng Yang admits the crime himself. You know a date rape is rarely treated as a rape.”
“Oh, what should I do?” She began sobbing. “So it was all my fault, wasn’t it?”
“My dear, I’m not blaming you.” Haiyan put her arm around Manna and said, “Come, don’t treat yourself like you were in the wrong. This has happened to a lot of women. In fact, my elder sister was raped by a friend of hers some years ago, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Some men are animals in human clothes.”
“So I should keep quiet about this?”
“What else can you do?”
After a pause, Manna asked, “Do you think I should tell Lin?”
“Not right now. But you should tell him sometime in the future. He loves you and he’ll understand. My sister told her husband about the rape. For a few months it was hard for him to accept it. You know, most men assume their brides are virgins. I’m sure Lin is different. He’s a kind man, and married. Besides, you two have been together for so many years. He’ll understand.”
The advice sounded sensible to Manna. Before leaving, she asked her friend not to divulge the rape to anyone.
“Of course I won’t breathe a word,” Haiyan promised.
Manna was terribly depressed during the following days. Sometimes her face still felt clammy, smarting from Geng Yang’s foul saliva. At night she prayed to the Lord of Heaven that she would have her next period on time in mid-December. What if I’m pregnant? she kept asking herself. For sure that will cause a scandal. What would I do then? Have an abortion? No, that’s impossible. There has to be a male partner who signs all the papers for you,
or else no hospital would perform the operation. But by signing the papers, the man would have to take the punishment and all the responsibilities. Who would do that? Even Lin might not be willing to help me that way.
Lin wouldn’t be back for two months. What should she do if she was pregnant? This question almost drove her out of her mind. There was no way out. She decided that if she was pregnant, she would kill herself. In her office a line of stout, amber bottles sat inside the medicine cabinet, two of which contained soporific drugs. She began to pilfer five tablets from each bottle every day.
The night school had already started three days ago, but she was too distracted to go to the class. She sold the English dictionary to Yuying Du, a pharmacist who was also an old maid, and she told others that she had severe menstrual pains and had to rest in the evening.
A week later she received a letter from Lin, who told her that he was well in Shenyang and asked how she was getting along. She didn’t write back immediately, still waiting for her period, which was already several days late.
At long last, on December 23, she began to feel the usual swelling in her breasts and the cramps in her abdomen. The next evening came the belated menstrual flow, which scared her—the period was so heavy she felt that some blood vessels might have broken in her. That bastard Geng Yang must have done her an internal injury.
11
Lin returned six weeks later, just before the February Spring Festival. He was surprised to find that Manna had aged so much. Her eyes had dimmed with a depth of sadness, and her lips were bloodless; the skin on her face, which looked grief-stricken most of the time, had become slack and dry, and two vertical creases grooved her forehead. Sometimes by the end of the day her hair was unkempt, but she didn’t seem to care. She was often absentminded when he was talking with her, as though she took no interest in what he said. In her voice there were some edgy inflections he hadn’t noticed before. Even her breathing seemed difficult, often dilating her nostrils. She reminded him of a pregnant woman tormented by morning sickness, miserable and about to break into tears.
Something must have happened to her during his absence. What was it? He asked her many times, but she would assure him that nothing was wrong and that she felt fine. In secret she had been taking a few kinds of herbal boluses, which she hoped would strengthen her body, nourish her yin, and help her recover.
Throughout the Spring Festival she eluded Lin, saying she was too exhausted to walk and wanted to be alone. A few times she shouted at night, startling her roommates, who jumped out of their beds and thought there was an emergency muster. She slept more now. During the holiday period she remained in bed more than fourteen hours a day.
However, two weeks after the festival she told Lin the truth. They were standing near a concrete electrical pole as she spoke to him. Overhead the power lines were swaying in the wind with a fierce whistle. Her words widened his eyes, riveted on her face. His chin kept shaking, his lips were quivering, and his complexion was dead pale. Beads of sweat appeared on his nose.
After she finished the story, he said between his teeth, “Beast! Such a beast!” His face was contorted, his left cheek twitching.
She wanted to say, “Remember, he was a friend of yours,” but she repressed the impulse.
Strangely enough, Lin turned speechless as if lost in thought. His hands were twisting a pamphlet, a document he was supposed to read.
“Lin, I shouldn’t have gone to his room. Can you forgive me?” she managed to ask. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other while her lace-up boots went on knocking each other to prevent her feet from freezing.
He didn’t answer, as though he had not heard her question; his eyebrows furrowed. She thrust her hands into her jacket pockets and said again, “Lin, don’t be too upset. It’s all over and I’m on the mend now. The herbal pills really help.”
A crosswind veered and threw up a few coils of coal dust, which were winding away into the snow-covered space between the smokestack and the bathhouse. A swarm of sparrows drifted past like a floating net and then disappeared in the leafless branches of a willow. An air gun cracked from the other side of the boiler house, and a flock of pigeons blasted into the air, scattering puffs of snow. They were the old boiler man’s pet birds.
Still, Lin didn’t say a word and looked more pensive. Anger was surging in Manna as she remembered that Lin had revealed to Geng Yang that she had been a virgin. She said almost in a yell, “So you think I’m a cheap woman now because I lost my virginity? Come on, speak. Tell me what’s on your mind. Don’t torture me like this. Remember, it was you who told him I was a virgin. You’re a part of this too.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. If only I had known him better. I should’ve taken precautions after he said a heart was just a chunk of flesh.” He touched his forehead with his palm and turned silent again.
She knew what he referred to, expecting him to say more, but again he fell wordless. His reticence unnerved her, because she felt he might have been incredulous. She was frightened by this thought. What if your own man doesn’t believe you? she asked herself. What if he too thinks you are a slut? Her jaw began shivering as she was suddenly gripped by a desire to weep. But she restrained herself.
At last he seemed to recognize the resentment and suffering in her eyes. He said, “I was so dazed that I lost my presence of mind. Are you sure you’re okay now?”
“Yes.” Tears came to her eyes.
He wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her, but they were in the presence of seven or eight soldiers, who were whistling deliberately while shoveling snow on the sidewalk thirty yards away. Remaining where he was, Lin managed to say, “I’m afraid you may need medical help. You look very ill, Manna.”
“Where can I get that? I have to take care of myself.”
“We should be able to figure out a way. Let me think about it. Can we talk it over this evening?”
“Sure, but don’t worry about me. I’m really fine now.”
He signaled with his eyes and hand that they should not stay within others’ sight too long. They turned and went into the office building together.
For the rest of the afternoon, whenever free, Lin thought about the rape. The more he thought, the angrier he grew with himself. He realized that Geng Yang had taken advantage of his inability to develop his relationship with Manna. If he had married her, or if they had been engaged, that devil wouldn’t have known so much about her or been given the opportunity to perpetrate the crime. Obviously his indecisiveness had opened the door to the wolf. Manna was right that he was responsible for the rape too, at least partially. How he hated himself! He was a man incapable of protecting his woman and irresolute in taking action. “Such a wimp!” he cursed himself in an undertone and clutched at his hair.
“What did you say?” asked the young doctor who shared the office with him.
“Oh, nothing.”
For some reason Lin felt the case was not over yet. He worried about Manna’s health, not only her physical condition but also her emotional state. But what should he do? He dared not even arrange a checkup for her, which would undoubtedly reveal the rape to the rest of the world. Even though he himself was a doctor, all he could do was get some antiphlogistic for Manna. He was unsure what kind of medical treatment a rape victim needed, because the textbooks he had studied in medical school had not touched on this topic. Somehow the more upset he felt about the situation, the more he resented Haiyan’s role in covering up the rape without offering Manna any other help.
He and Manna had a talk in his office after dinner. He said to her, “I think we should tell Ran Su what happened.”
“Why? You’re crazy. That’s equal to broadcasting the secret.”
“I’m afraid we’d better let the leaders know before it’s too late, or there will be more troubles waiting for us.”
“What do you mean, Lin?”
“If they know of the case, at least you can officially get medical or psychological help whe
n you need it. For us, this is more important than anything else.”
“I’m really well and have no need for any treatment.”
“Please listen to me just once!”
“No, we can’t do that. Let me tell you why: if people know of the rape, I’ll become cheaper in everyone’s eyes, and I’ll belong to a different category, lower than a widow.”
Lin sighed, but he didn’t give up. He continued, “There’s another reason that I believe we should let Ran Su know.”
“What’s that?”
“You told Haiyan Niu everything. She’s not that reliable. We should take measures against a leak now.”
“She promised me she wouldn’t tell anybody.”
“I dare not trust her.”
“Why?”
“I can’t say exactly; just by instinct I know we dare not count on her promise. You’ve put too much in her hands. If this gets out, you’ll have a personal catastrophe. People can kill you with their tongues. It will be better to report it to Ran Su now.”
She began weeping, her face buried in her arms on the edge of his desk. Softening, he said, “Don’t cry, dear. If you don’t want to let others know, I won’t tell anybody.”
“I want to keep it secret.”
“All right, but you should talk to Haiyan and remind her of her promise.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow.”
After their talk, Lin became more considerate to Manna. He bought her fruits—oranges, frozen pears, sugar-coated hawthorns, and dried persimmons. From a medicinal herb store he bought a small fork of deer antler, which cost him fifty-two yuan, over forty percent of his monthly salary. Though Manna couldn’t use the antler, because it would generate too much yang in her body, it pleased her. She was grateful, and her heart began absorbing warmth again. At last she felt she could leave the rape behind; she was on her way to recovery.
12
One morning in April, Manna ran into Ran Su at the entrance to the lab building. Although he greeted her kindly, his heavy-lidded eyes were observing her oddly, as if sizing her up. She turned to face him, and his eyes slipped away. Then he turned his head back and gave a smile, which was so forced that it resembled a grimace.