Waiting

by Ha Jin

  “Who did you talk about?”

  “Just women in general.”

  “So he thinks I’m out of my mind?”

  “Oh no, he said I was in the wrong and I didn’t understand you.”

  “What did he say exactly?”

  “He said a woman couldn’t live long without attention and love.”

  She tittered, amused that the commissar could talk that way. No wonder he was so patient with his crazy wife. She said, “That’s not true. How about nuns?”

  “Well,” Lin paused, then went on, “they have the attention of monks, don’t they?”

  They both laughed.

  “Manna,” he said, “if I had known you’d feel so strongly about my teaching the class, I’d never have agreed to do it.”

  Seeing the honest look on his face, Manna smiled and told him never to make such a decision on his own. They should always discuss it first. “A married couple must work like a team,” she said.

  From that day on, he would stay home in the evening to prepare the lessons. Because the class was already in motion, it was impossible to change and he had to go to teach it twice a week. Though Manna was glad about the reconciliation, the two lonely evenings each week still irritated her. Sometimes she felt depressed when he wasn’t home, and she couldn’t help imagining how to give him a piece of her mind.

  8

  As her belly bulged out in the summer, Manna grew more grumpy. She resented Lin’s absence from home two evenings a week. She knew the class would be over soon, but she couldn’t help herself, treating him as though he were having an affair. Her peevish face often reminded Lin of what she had said the day after their wedding, “I wish you were paralyzed in bed, so you’d stay with me all the time.”

  Is this love? he would wonder. Probably she loves me too much.

  One late afternoon in August, Manna returned from the grocery store with four cakes of warm tofu in a yellow plastic pail. Putting it down on the kitchen range, she said to Lin, “Something is wrong with me.” Hurriedly she went into the bedroom, and he followed her in.

  She looked down at the crotch of her baggy pants and found a wet patch. “Oh, I must’ve broken my water.”

  “Really?” He was alarmed. The pregnancy had not reached the ninth month yet.

  “Quick, let’s go to the medical building,” she said.

  “Don’t panic. It may be too early and could be false labor.”

  “Let’s go. I’m sure it’s time.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Yes.”

  Together they set out on their way, he supporting her by the arm. The sun was setting, but the heat was still springing up from the asphalt road, which felt soft under their feet. A few lines of green and white clothes were swaying languidly among the thick aspens behind a dormitory house. A large grasshopper whooshed away from the roadside, flashing the pinkish lining of its wings, then bumped into a cotton quilt hanging on a clothesline and fell to the ground. The leaves of some trees on the roadside were shriveled and darkened with aphids because it hadn’t rained for a whole month. Here and there caterpillars’ droppings were scattered on the ground. Lin was paying close attention to the road so as to avoid places where Manna might make a false step; at the same time he grew more apprehensive, thinking of the baby that would be premature.

  When they arrived at the building, Manna was rushed into a small room on the third floor, in which an examination table, upholstered with sponge rubber and shiny leather, served as a birth bed. Nurse Yu spread a sterile cloth on the table and helped Manna climb onto it. A few minutes later Manna’s contractions started and she groaned.

  Nurse Yu ran out to send for Haiyan, the only obstetrician in the hospital, who had left for home. At the entrance of the building she bumped into her friend Snow Goose, who agreed to come up and help.

  In the room upstairs Manna groaned again, clutching Lin’s arm.

  “You’ll be all right, dear,” he said.

  “Oh, my kidneys!” She was panting and rubbing her back with her free hand.

  “It can’t be your kidneys, Manna,” he said as though examining a regular patient. “The pain must radiate from your pelvis.”

  “Help me! Don’t just talk!”

  He was baffled for a moment; then he pressed his palm on the small of her back and began massaging her. Meanwhile she was moaning and sweating. He had no idea what else he should do to alleviate her pain. He tried to recall the contents of a textbook on childbirth he had studied two decades before, but he couldn’t remember anything.

  Haiyan didn’t arrive until an hour later. She looked calm and apologized for being delayed by traffic. After examining Manna briefly, she told Nurse Yu to test the patient’s blood pressure and then shave her. Next she ordered Snow Goose, “Flick on the fans and boil some water.” Then, turning to Lin, she said, “Her cervix is only three centimeters open. It will take a while.” Putting her palm on the patient’s forehead, she said, “Everything will be all right, Manna.”

  Lin drew Haiyan aside and whispered, “Do you think she can survive this? You know her heart isn’t very strong.”

  “So far she’s doing fine. Don’t worry. The baby is coming and it’s too late to think about anything else. But I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She moved back to the table and said, “Manna, I’m going to give you an oxytocin drip, all right?”

  “Yes, do it. Let me get through this quickly.”

  “Can I do something?” Lin asked Haiyan.

  “Did you have dinner?”

  “No.”

  “Go eat and come back as soon as you can. This may take a whole night. We’ll need you to be around.”

  “How about you? Did you eat?”

  “Yes.”

  He was impressed by Haiyan’s composure. He left the room while his wife was groaning and rubbing her back with both hands.

  In the mess hall Lin bought a spinach soup and two buns stuffed with pork and cabbage, which he began to eat without appetite. He couldn’t tell whether he was happy about the baby, whose arrival took him by surprise. He belched, and his mouth was filled with acid gastric juice, which almost made him vomit. He rested his head for a moment on his fist placed on the edge of the tabletop. Fortunately nobody was nearby; around him were stools turned upside down on the tables.

  Outside, pigs began oinking from their sties behind the kitchen as the swineherd knocked the side of a trough with an iron scoop. A group of nurses and orderlies came in, gathered around two tables at the other end of the hall, and began stringing green beans.

  Lin let out a sigh. His heartburn prevented him from finishing dinner. In the air lingered a stench, coming from the hogwash vat by the long sink. He got up and went across to dump the soup into the vat. After washing his bowls and spoon, he gargled twice, then put the dinner set into his bag made of a striped towel and hung it on the wall, among the bags of his comrades. At the other end of the hall the young women were chatting and humming a movie song. A puppy was whimpering, leashed to a leg of a table.

  When Lin came back to the medical building, his wife’s groaning had turned into screaming. Haiyan told him that the baby seemed to be coming sooner than she had thought. In fact Manna was in transition. Lin wet a towel and wiped the sweat and tears off her face. Her eyes were flashing and her cheeks crimson.

  “I can’t stand this anymore! No more!” she cried. The corners of her mouth stretched sideways.

  “Manna,” he said, “it will be over soon. Haiyan will make sure that—”

  “Oh, why did you do this to me?” she shouted.

  He was taken aback, but managed to say, “Manna, don’t you want the baby?”

  “Damn you! You don’t know how this hurts. Oh, you’ve all abused me!”

  “Please, don’t yell. Others in the building can hear you.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, damn you!”

  “Come on, I didn’t mean—”

  “I hate you!” she screamed. “I ha
te you all.”

  “Please, you’ll disturb—”

  “Miser! Too late. Oh, help me!”

  “Okay, you yell as you like.”

  “Miser! Miser!”

  He was bewildered, wondering why she suddenly called him that. She seemed angry at Haiyan too; that must have been why she said they had all abused her. Then the thought came to him that by “miser” she must have been referring to the two thousand yuan they had talked about paying to Bensheng to get his support a decade before. She must have thought that if they had married ten years earlier it would have been easier for her to give birth to the baby. This realization stunned him, because he hadn’t known she had harbored her deep resentment all these years. He turned to the door, telling Snow Goose that he was going to the bathroom.

  Once alone in a toilet stall, he tried to sort out his thoughts. Manna must have hoped he would spend two thousand yuan to buy off Bensheng at that time, though she had never made her wish explicit to him. He remembered clearly that she refused to share such a cost. Then why did she call him “miser”? He felt something clutching his lungs, and a pain gnawed him in the chest. Had he had that much money, he would certainly have brought about the divorce sooner. He had told her that he only had six hundred yuan in the bank, and she wouldn’t even reveal to him how much she had saved. She must have thought he was a rich man and could easily afford two thousand yuan. After so many years, how come she still didn’t believe him? Why on earth had she always kept her secrets from him, never allowing him to see her bankbook?

  In his mind a voice replied, Because money’s more precious and more effective than love. If you had spent the money, everything would have worked out all right and you could have enjoyed a happy marriage.

  No, it wasn’t that simple, Lin retorted.

  It was simple and clear like a bug on a bald head, the voice went on. Say you had owned ten thousand yuan and spent one-fifth of it on your brother-in-law, counting that as a loss. Then you could have married Manna a decade ago. If so, she would have had no difficulty in giving birth to a baby and wouldn’t have harbored a grievance against you. You see, isn’t money more powerful than love?

  That’s not true, Lin countered. We needed no money to help us fall in love, just as we need no money to consummate our marriage.

  Really? Then why did you spend eleven hundred yuan for the wedding? Why have you two kept separate bank accounts?

  Lin was at a loss for an answer, but he suppressed that cold voice. For a long while he remained in the bathroom, which was the only quiet place where he could be unobserved. Now he was sitting on the windowsill with his back against the wall, absentmindedly watching the backyard. It was already dark; beyond the screen mosquitoes were humming and fireflies were drawing little arcs. From a dormitory house a harmonica was shrieking out “The Internationale” disjointedly. A truck driver was burning oily rags at the corner of the garage, a bucket of water standing by him. Far away on the hill a cluster of gas lamps were flickering in a temporary apiary. Some beekeepers were still busy collecting honey over there despite the nightfall.

  Somehow Lin’s right eye began smarting, as though a foreign object had entered it. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eye with his fingertip. But the more he rubbed it, the more it hurt. He stood up, went to the sink, and put his head sideways beneath the spout so that the stream could rinse his eye. The cold water, falling over his cheeks and forehead, refreshed him.

  No sooner had he turned off the faucet than a piercing scream came from Manna, which reminded him that he must have stayed in the bathroom at least half an hour and that it was time to go back. He wiped his face with his handkerchief, put on his glasses, and hurried out.

  As he entered the delivery room again, his wife was wailing, “Oh! I hate you . . . Too late . . . So many years . . . I’m dying, too old for this baby.”

  “Manna, I’m sorry,” he said. “Don’t bring up old scores, okay? Concentrate on—”

  “All right, no cervix left.” Haiyan waved to Nurse Yu and Snow Goose to come closer and help. “Manna, let’s push. Take a deep breath. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  Haiyan counted, “One . . . two . . . go.”

  She pushed, her face purple and swollen. Lin noticed that Haiyan’s face was puffy, as red as a boiled crab.

  The second Manna exhaled, she yelled at him again, “Damn you, it’s too late. Rice Bag . . . Chicken Heart!”

  “Please don’t be so nasty,” he begged.

  “Ah, I’m dying. Damn your mother!”

  Snow Goose turned aside and tittered, but she stopped at Manna’s stare. Ashamed, Lin let go of his wife’s shoulder and made for the door again. Haiyan grasped his arm and whispered, “Lin, you should stay.”

  “I—I can’t.”

  “It’s common for a woman in labor to go berserk. She called me names too. But we shouldn’t mind. You know, this makes her feel better. You mustn’t take her words to heart. She’s frightened and needs you to be with her.”

  He shook his head and went out without another word.

  Manna yelled after him, “Go to hell, coward! I don’t want to see your face before I die.”

  Haiyan returned to the birth bed and said, “Come on, let’s push again.”

  “No, I can’t,” Manna cried. “Cut me open, Haiyan. I beg of you. Please give me . . . a cesarean.”

  The corridor was lit dimly, though some people were on night duty in the building. Lin paced up and down in the hall, chain-smoking; his mind was numb, blank, and slightly dazed. Meanwhile his wife’s screams and curses were echoing through the floor. Some people went past the delivery room time and again to try to make out what she was shouting. Lin sat down on a long bench, his face buried in his hands. He felt pity for himself. Why do I have to go through this? he thought. I never wanted a baby.

  He remembered that half a year ago a peasant woman had lain on this very bench, bleeding and waiting to be treated. Her husband had thrust two large batteries into her vagina, because he had incurred a thousand-yuan fine for having a second baby and she had once more failed to give him a son. The barefoot doctor in the village couldn’t get the batteries out, so she was carted to the army hospital. Lin vividly remembered that she was skinny and young, her face half-covered by a sky-blue bandanna and a blood vessel on her temple pulsating like an earthworm. Her round eyes gazed at him emotionlessly as he paused to observe her. He was amazed by her eyes, which were devoid of any trace of resentment, and he saw lice and nits like sesame seeds in her permed hair.

  Now he couldn’t help thinking, Why do people have to live like animals, eating and reproducing, possessed by the instinct for survival? What point is there in having a dozen sons if your own life is miserable and senseless? Probably people are afraid, afraid of disappearing from this world—traceless and completely forgotten, so they have children to leave reminders of themselves. How selfish parents can be. Then why does it have to be a son? Can’t a girl serve equally well as a reminder of her parents? What a crazy, stupid custom, which demands that every couple have a baby boy to carry on the family line.

  He remembered the saying “Raise a son for your old years.” He reasoned, Even though a boy is believed superior to a girl, his life may not be easy either. He will have to become a provider for his parents when he grows up. Selfish. How often parents have sons so that they can exploit them in the future. They prefer boys to girls mainly because sons will provide more, are worth more as capital.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a burst of squalling from the delivery room. The door opened and Nurse Yu beckoned him to come in. He stubbed out the cigarette on his rubber sole, dropped it into a spittoon by the bench, and rose to his feet, shuffling to the door.

  “Congratulations,” Haiyan said the moment he stepped in. “You have two sons.”

  “You mean twins?”

  “Yes.”

  The nurses showed him the crying babies, who looked almost identical, each weighing just over five p
ounds. They were bony, with big heads, thick joints, flat noses, red shrunken skin, and closed eyes. Their faces were puckered like old men’s. One of them opened his mouth as though wanting to eat something to assert his existence. The other one had an ear whose auricle was folded inward. They were so different from what Lin had expected that he was overwhelmed with disgust.

  “Look,” Haiyan said to Lin. “They take after you.”

  “Like two exact copies of you,” Snow Goose chimed in, gently patting the back of the baby she was holding in her arms.

  He turned and looked at his wife. She smiled at him faintly with tear-stained eyes and mumbled, “Sorry, I was so scared. I thought I couldn’t make it. My heart almost burst.”

  “You did well.” He put the back of his hand on her cheek. Meanwhile, Haiyan began giving Manna stitches to sew up the torn cervix and the incision of the episiotomy. The sight of the bloody cut made Lin’s skin crawl, and he turned his head, nauseated.

  An hour later two male nurses came. They placed Manna on a stretcher, covered her with blankets, and carried her home. Lin followed them, holding the babies in his arms and shivering with cold. The moon was glistening on the willow and maple crowns; beetles and grasshoppers were chirring madly. The leaves and branches, heavy with dew, bent down slightly, while the grass on both sides of the road looked spiky and thick in the coppery light of the street lamps. A toad was croaking like a broken horn from a distant ditch partly filled with foamy water. Lin felt weak and aged; he was unsure whether he cared for the twins and whether he would be able to love them devotedly. Watching their covered faces, somehow he began to imagine trading places with them, having his life start afresh. If only he himself had been carried by someone like this now; then he would have led his life differently. Perhaps he would never have had a family.

  9

  Manna was given fifty-six days of maternity leave. During the first week she could hardly move about, so Lin did all the housework and cooked for her. She didn’t have enough milk for the twins, though Lin made her eat a large bowl of pigs’ feet soup a day to increase lactation. The babies had to be fed every three or four hours; because it took at least a month to secure the daily delivery of fresh milk, for the time being Lin had to get powdered milk for them, which was in short supply. Luckily Haiyan helped him buy eight pounds of milk powder in town, though at a higher price.