by Ha Jin
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“He jilted me. I hate him.”
“But he loved you once, didn’t he?”
“It was just a crush. Most men are liars. Well, except you.” She grinned and went on wiping up the remaining pork broth on the plate with a piece of steamed bun.
Her words surprised him. If what she said about Mai Dong was true, then why had she kept his letters in the treasure box? Did she really hate him? He was puzzled.
Manna found herself pregnant in February. After that, she insisted Lin get another bed so they could sleep separately. “I don’t want to hurt the baby,” she explained, meaning they should stop having sex until the baby was born. He agreed. He borrowed a camp bed from the Section of General Affairs and set it up in a corner of the room.
Her pregnancy came as a surprise to Lin, who had thought that Manna, already forty-four, must be too old to be fertile. Now he was worried, because she had a weak heart. Since they had been married, once in a while she had suffered from arrhythmia, and her blood pressure had been high, though her cardiogram didn’t indicate any serious problem. His worry was compounded by the fear that at her age she might not be able to give birth to a baby smoothly. He tried to persuade her to have an abortion, but she wanted the baby adamantly, saying that that was the purpose of their marriage, that she would not be a childless woman, and that this might be her last opportunity. She even told him, “I hope our baby is a boy. I want a little Lin.”
“I don’t believe in that feudal stuff. What’s the difference between a boy and a girl?”
“A girl will have a harder life.”
“Come on, I’m not interested in having another child.”
“I want my own baby.”
Unable to dissuade her, he dropped the subject and let her follow her wish.
Her reaction to pregnancy was severe. She vomited a great deal, sometimes even in the small hours. She didn’t seem to care about her looks anymore. Her face became bloated, and the skin around her eyes grew dark and flabby as though she had just stopped crying. In addition, she ate a lot; she drank pork-chop soup with shredded kelp in it, saying the baby needed nutrition and tapping her belly, which hadn’t bulged yet. What’s more, her appetite was capricious. One day she craved sweet potatoes and the next day almond cookies. Then she remembered jellyfish and begged Lin to get some for her. Muji is far from the sea, and even dried jellyfish was a rarity after the Spring Festival. He bicycled about in the evening to look for jellyfish, but couldn’t find any. He asked a few nurses, whose families lived in the city, to help, but none of them could do anything. Finally, through a relation of the mess officer, Lin bought two pounds of salted jellyfish at a seafood store.
Manna washed the sand and salt off the jellyfish, sliced them, and seasoned them with vinegar, mashed garlic, and sesame oil. For three days, at every meal she chewed the jellyfish with crunchy relish. She wanted Lin to try a piece, but he couldn’t stand the smell.
Then from the fourth day on, she stopped putting the jellyfish on the dining table, as though the dish were unknown to her, despite half a bowl of the leftovers still sitting in the cupboard.
Aunt Cheng, Doctor Ning’s mother, stopped by one evening. She told Manna, “You’re a lucky woman and can eat whatever you want. In the old days when I gave birth to my first son, I ate only ten eggs. That was all for two months. When I was big with my second child, I was dying to have a roast chicken. Every morning I went to the market to look at the golden chickens at a cooked-meat stand. I had no money even for a wing, just went there to smell some.”
The old woman’s words reminded Manna of what was good for her, and she began craving roast chicken. So every other day Lin bought her a chicken from a luncheonette nearby, though he was worried about the cost—on his monthly salary he could afford no more than fifteen roast chickens. Fortunately her appetite for chicken lasted less than two weeks. Then she remembered pomegranates, which were impossible to find here in wintertime. How she longed for those pink pearls, sour, pungent, and juicy! One night she even dreamed of a robust tree laden with pomegranates. She told Lin about the dream, saying the auspicious fruit portended that they would have a big boy. Somehow the impossibility of coming by a pomegranate corrected her freak appetite, and she began eating normally again.
Since they’d been married, Lin had read little. His bookcase standing by the door still held his books, but it was also loaded with cups, medicine bottles, eyeglass cases, flashlights, a tumbler doll, and knickknacks. Dust had gathered on the tops of the volumes, but neither he nor his wife bothered to wipe it away. By comparison, Manna was reading a lot, mainly about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting. She checked out all the books the hospital’s small library had on the subjects; she was amazed to discover how ignorant she was about parenting. At dinner she would brief her husband on what she had read that day. Most of the time he would listen to her absently; her words entered his head at one ear and left by the other. His lack of interest sometimes annoyed her.
In addition to reading, she was busy preparing clothing and diapers for the baby. She asked some nurses for their threadbare shirts and pajamas, because diapers should be made of soft, used cloth that wouldn’t chafe the baby’s skin. In the evening she often went to their neighbors’ homes to learn how to make baby quilts and pillows and how to knit socks and booties. She bought three pounds of knitting wool, which cost her over seventy yuan and made Lin wonder why she had become so openhanded, even wasteful—the baby would hardly need so much woolen clothing. But he didn’t complain, because she had spent her own money.
Hua sometimes came on Sundays. If Manna was at home, she would stay only for a short while. She told her father that Shuyu was very pleased to hear about Manna’s pregnancy, because this meant their family would be larger. Lin was puzzled by Shuyu’s response, which seemed to indicate that she thought she was still his wife. He wondered whether it was the alimony he paid that made her feel this way. What a simpleminded woman. At times Hua brought along scallion pancakes, which Shuyu had made for him, but she wouldn’t take the food out of her bag if Manna was around. She talked more and smiled more now, telling her father that she liked her job and that the fellow workers treated her well. She looked cheerful, the corners of her mouth going upward a little when she smiled, and a gleam appeared in her eyes. Without Manna’s knowledge, Lin bought Hua a Phoenix bicycle and a Shanghai wristwatch. Though Manna knew Hua couldn’t afford them by herself, she said nothing. She never greeted the girl wholeheartedly.
Sometimes Lin thought about the twenty years before this marriage. The peaceful time seemed as remote as if it had belonged to another man’s life. He couldn’t help imagining what this home would have been like if Manna and he had gotten married fifteen years earlier. At that time she had been such a pleasant woman that he had always believed he would be a happy man once he married her. But now she was so different and rather boring. He realized how suffering had changed her.
Once in a while he was bewildered by a strange emotion that would shoot a tingling pain to his temples. It made him wonder whether he cared for this married life, which was so tedious, so chaotic, and so exhausting.
7
Lin told Manna that he would go to his office after dinner. He had been asked to give lessons in basic chemistry to a group of orderlies, who were going to take exams for nursing school. He taught in the evening twice a week.
“Why do you have to go to the office tonight?” Manna asked.
“I can get more work done there,” he replied nonchalantly.
“What work?”
“I told you I have to brush up on my chemistry in order to teach the class.”
“Can’t you do that at home?”
“I need to concentrate.” His voice was marked with resolution.
She said no more, though unhappy about his words. His eagerness to be away from home unsettled her. Recently she often saw a hard light appear in his eye
s when he talked with her, as though he were out of patience. To her mind, his irritation might have resulted either from her refusal to abort the baby or from their abstaining from sex. She had asked several older women to see whether she could continue to share her bed with him, but they all assured her that for the baby’s sake, the parents ought to remain abstinent during the pregnancy. She believed them, since some books she had read had given the same advice.
After Lin left for his office, she became restless. More doubts came to her mind and set her imagination on the wing. She couldn’t help wondering if he still loved her.
It seemed unlikely that their abstinence from sex had estranged him from her. She clearly remembered that when she asked him to set up a bed for himself, he had approved of the idea readily, as if quite pleased. Does this mean he’s tired of me? she asked herself. Probably so. Is he looking for another woman? That’s impossible. We’ve stood together through all the bad times. He couldn’t change his heart all of a sudden. Still, why is he so eager to stay away from me? Does he want to have a good time with someone else? Is he attracted to other women? Did he really go to his office? Is he there alone?
The more she thought, the more wretched she felt. An intense loneliness overcame her, and the dim home seemed like a deserted sickroom. She felt as if the whole world were conspiring to make a fool of her. No, she said to herself, even if I were a millstone on Lin’s back, I wouldn’t let him drop me so easily. He’s all I have. Without him there would no longer be this home. Besides, he should concentrate on loving and taking care of his pregnant wife, shouldn’t he? I must try every means to keep hold of him.
The next evening, after Lin finished dinner and left with an umbrella, she flung her raincoat on and followed him out. She kept about a hundred yards behind him as he was slouching through the rain, which was falling in white threads that were slanting, swaying, and swirling with the wind. A few sparrows were chirping tremulously under the eaves. It was still chilly, though the roadside trees were already softly green with budding leaves. Lin’s heavy gait reminded Manna that he was no longer a young man. How could you think of him going to see another woman? she wondered. How absurd you are. You’re too jealous and too possessive. Why not let him have some freedom?
He entered the medical building, but she didn’t follow in. Instead, she stood beneath a basketball hoop in the front yard. She wouldn’t go in until he reached his office on the second floor.
She waited and waited. Ten minutes passed and still the lights in his office remained off. The window was dark like the mouth of a well. Where was he? In the men’s room? Impossible, he had relieved himself just before leaving home. He must be doing something secret elsewhere.
As she wiped rainwater from her face with her hand, laughter rang out from the west end of the building. She walked over to see what was going on. There, in the lecture room on the first floor, Lin was talking to seven or eight young orderlies, who were all women of around twenty. They looked engrossed in his talk. The windows were open, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Every now and then Manna caught a phrase like “a different structure” or “molecular formula.” She could tell he was happy, his face expressive and his gestures full of life. He looked taller than usual as his back was straight now. He turned around and began writing something on the blackboard. All the students’ eyes were still fixed on him. Suddenly the tip of the chalk sprang away from his fingers and he said, “Whoops!” That brought a silly laugh from one of the women.
Anger and jealousy surged up in Manna’s chest. She thought two of the orderlies were quite good-looking and must have been attractive to most men, especially the one nicknamed Snow Goose. That young woman had been transferred to this hospital five months ago on account of an affair with a senior officer at Shenyang Military Headquarters. She had been an actress in an opera troupe there and was sent down to this remote city after the officer’s wife had written a dozen letters to his superiors, threatening to publicize the scandal if they didn’t punish “the itching bitch.” Observing Snow Goose now from a distance of twenty yards, Manna noticed her neck was indeed white and long like a goose’s, partly covered by jet-black hair. Her nose quivered and she couldn’t stop smiling at the teacher. There must have been something wrong with this woman, who seemed unable to live without seducing a man, like a weasel spirit. Manna had heard that at work one night Snow Goose had wandered about in her white gown without any underclothes on. Some male patients must have smelled something in her and would follow her whenever she was within sight.
The more Manna looked at that woman’s bewitching face, the more miserable she became. What angered her most was that pair of apricot eyes, which hadn’t left Lin since Manna began observing her. How she hated her, and hated them all! Lin was no good either. He obviously enjoyed flirting with these young women. Shameless, he could be their father. Small wonder he was so eager to leave home the moment he put down his chopsticks. Their home was no more than a guesthouse to him—he just went back to eat and sleep. Damn him! Damn them all!
The rain turned heavy, larger raindrops falling on the greenish tiles and the concrete ground with a thickening, crushing sound. Two women in the lecture room stood up and came to the windows to close them, so Manna swung around, heading home. Her legs felt weak like water.
Manna ran into Commissar Su the next morning on her way to work. Since they had been on friendly terms, she asked him why the hospital couldn’t use somebody else to teach the chemistry course. As a pregnant wife she needed her husband to stay home in the evening. For a moment Ran Su was bewildered by her question, saying he had never heard of such a class, not to mention assigning Lin the work. Indeed there were a good number of recent college graduates available; why should they bother Lin with it?
“Don’t worry, I’ll look into this matter,” he said to her as they parted company. His bowlegs seemed more bent than last year.
Commissar Su’s answer surprised Manna, and she wondered who had assigned Lin to teach the class. The night before, after returning from the medical building and arguing with herself for two hours, she had decided not to confront Lin, as she remembered the price he had paid for their home. It would be unimaginable that Lin was not serious about their marriage. Otherwise he wouldn’t have waited for her so many years and struggled so hard to obtain the divorce. In no way could he be a frivolous man. But now that she had met Ran Su and found out the class was not officially established, Manna changed her mind. She wanted to question Lin so as to get to the bottom of this.
“Lin, I want ask you something,” she said after lunch.
“What?”
“Who told you to teach the chemistry class?”
“They asked me to help.”
“Who did?”
“Those orderlies who want to take the exams. They went to my office the other day and asked me to give them a crash course.”
“So no one assigned you the job?”
“No. They begged me and I agreed to help.”
“Then why didn’t you talk with me before you agreed?”
“Did I have to?” he asked derisively. Behind the lenses his eyes again glinted with the hard light she dreaded.
“This is our home, not a guesthouse where you can check out as you please.”
“I know.” He looked annoyed.
She broke into tears and spoke toward the ceiling. “Heavens, as if he really has no idea what he’s been doing. How can I make him understand!”
“What’s wrong? They asked me for help, why shouldn’t I help them?”
“Let me tell you what’s wrong. You have a pregnant wife moping alone and worried sick at home, while you’re having a good time with other women.”
“That’s not fair. I didn’t spend time with any woman.”
“Who are those orderlies then? Who’s Snow Goose? A gentleman?”
“Come on, you’re being unreasonable.”
“This is not a matter of reason but of feelings. Let me tell yo
u this: no decent husband would do such a thing to his wife.”
“Well, I’ve never thought of that.” He sounded quite innocent.
She went into the bedroom, burying her face in a pillow stuffed with duck down. He sat smoking for a while. Then he wiped clean the dining table and did the dishes. Without a word he left for work.
For a whole afternoon Manna was fidgety, unsure whether Lin would come home for dinner and whether he would continue to go out in the evening. She even blamed herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have blown up like that. He must think of her as a jealous shrew now. Had he really changed his heart about her? Probably he had become so tired of her that he had begun running after another woman. No, he couldn’t be so heartless. Then what did he really want?
The more she thought, the more agitated she became. Yet deep down, she felt she was not wrong.
She made wontons for dinner, hoping he would come home on time. She boiled a pot of water and waited for him. Lin returned at six sharp as usual. How relieved she was at the sight of him; without delay she dropped the pork wontons into the boiling water.
As the pot was seething, she shredded two sheets of dried laver, cut a tiny bunch of cilantro, and put them into a large tureen. Meanwhile Lin placed spoons, bowls, and cups of soy sauce and vinegar on the dining table, saying she should have waited for him so that he could prepare the stuffing and help her make wonton wrappers.
“I didn’t know when you’d be back,” she told him, although that was only partially true. She had worried that he might not come home for dinner at all.
When the wontons were cooked, she poured them, together with the water, into the tureen, then dropped in a spoonful of chili oil and stirred the soup counterclockwise for a moment with a stainless steel ladle.
Dinner was ready. Lin carried the tureen to the dining room, which was also their living room.
While eating, Lin said he had seen Ran Su in the afternoon. Actually they had talked for a long time about women. “It was a nice chat,” he told her.