Chenxi and the Foreigner

by Sally Rippin

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Anna looked around. A rumpled four-poster bed took up one corner, and a carved rosewood table the other. She stepped forward and tripped over a little ceramic cup. The room smelled of cigarette smoke, sweat, and sickly sweet rice wine. Lowering herself onto a three-legged stool, Anna peered at the hand-painted posters on the wall. She stared at the slashing red Chinese characters as if by her willpower she could make herself understand them. They remained as indecipherable as hieroglyphics.

  Chenxi stepped into the room followed by the bearded man. They squatted on stools and began to talk as if Anna wasn’t there. Soon another young Chinese man poked his head through the doorway. Chenxi laughed and pulled up a stool. The man with the white beard got up to fetch a bottle of rice wine. The newcomer caught sight of Anna and his mouth dropped open. He looked at Chenxi who mumbled something in Chinese and the young man nodded respectfully towards Anna. Turning back to Chenxi, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes. The three of them, all talking in loud, excited voices, played a game of offering, refusing and exchanging cigarettes. Anna had seen it before. It seemed there was status attached to who could offer the most expensive cigarettes and how generously they could be forced upon the other men.

  After this ritual they all sat down again and lit their cigarettes in silence. The tall young newcomer turned to Anna and held out his packet of cigarettes. Anna shook her head and smiled politely. She had heard that the only women who smoked in China were artists or prostitutes, so she hoped Chenxi had introduced her as the former.

  Suddenly the newcomer slapped his thigh and pulled a book of photographs from his top pocket. He handed them shyly to the bearded man without a word, and Chenxi drew in closer to peer over his shoulder. Even though for her they were upside-down, Anna could see from where she was sitting that they were photos of paintings. The bearded man squinted at them, flicking through the book. He stopped at a grey painting of a grey body of a man floating on his back in a pool of grey water. A single red peony, like a bloodstain, bloomed over his chest.

  Anna looked over at the tall young man’s face. It was tense with expectation.

  ‘Bu zuo, bu zuo,’ the bearded man murmured, nodding his head. The young man, relieved, broke into a rapid monologue. The bearded man didn’t speak again.

  ‘Ni hao! Ni hao!’ Three more young men appeared in the doorway and Chenxi stood to let them in. One of them, with hair down to his waist, carried a battered art folio. Another, with a shaven head, had a roll of paper under his arm. They jumbled into the room and the cigarette game started again.

  The afternoon dragged by. Anna sat in her corner, sipping tea, and observed young artists coming and going, making their pilgrimage to this strange, quiet, bearded man. He spoke only a few words about each painting or drawing presented to him, but each time he did the noisy artists fell silent, hanging off his every word.

  If the bearded man was preoccupied, the artists took their work to Chenxi, who discussed it with them at length, his face serious and his voice passionate and animated. Chenxi’s pockets became so crammed with the foreign cigarettes offered to him, that he had to start putting them into his bag and behind his ears.

  Anna felt bored and irritated. The room was unbearably smoky and the noise of the young artists’ excited chatter was annoying. She had no idea how much time had passed but, judging by the changing light and the cramp in her legs, she guessed it was not far off evening. She stood up and stretched. The young men stopped their conversations and stared as if she had just appeared out of nowhere. Anna blushed.

  Chenxi walked over to her. ‘What’s wrong?’ he said.

  ‘I want to go home!’ She knew she sounded like a sulky child, but she didn’t care.

  Chenxi sighed. He walked back to the young man whose work he had been looking at and said a few words. The young man nodded. Then Chenxi went to the man with the wispy white beard and took both his hands in his. The bearded man squeezed Chenxi’s shoulder and nodded without smiling. The room went quiet.

  ‘OK,’ Chenxi said. He turned towards Anna and held the front door open for her. She stepped out into the brightness, to find the sun much lower in the sky.

  ‘Who is that man?’ Anna demanded as they made their way out of the courtyard to the bus stop. ‘Does he think he’s some kind of guru or something? I don’t like him!’

  Chenxi glared at her. ‘It do not matter if you do not like him. He is very important man. For me, he is most important man in all of China!’

  ‘So, who is he?’ Anna repeated.

  ‘Old Wolf, we call him,’ Chenxi smiled to himself. ‘He is heart of art in China. Without him, there is no true artists. He is our freedom.’

  Anna frowned. She was tired of Chenxi’s cryptic replies. It was too difficult to understand anything in China. Was it only the language barrier or something more? She felt so tired of it all.

  Anyway, she consoled herself, she had only one week left and she would be back in Melbourne. Back in her clean, quiet city where life was so simple and her friends’ biggest worries were deciding which pair of jeans to put on that day.

  She was tired of the noise, tired of the pollution. Tired of being stared at and pointed at and jostled. Tired of being the foreigner. But most of all she was tired of trying to understand Chenxi. It had been foolish to expect that she could.

  She looked at him now as they heaved themselves onto the crowded bus and felt inexplicably annoyed with him.

  They stood pressed against each other in the lurching bus without speaking. Before, Anna would have revelled in Chenxi’s proximity. Now she just felt hot and bad-tempered. The odour of sweaty bodies was making her nauseous. Chinese people even smelt differently.

  At their stop, Chenxi and Anna forced their way off the bus, as another bus pulled in at the stop opposite.

  ‘Come on!’ shouted Chenxi. ‘Quick. That our bus!’ He dashed across the road, dodging the surge of cyclists and clambered onto the bus. ‘Come on!’ he shouted again to Anna, who stood hesitant on the other side of the road. Between them, the cyclists were an unyielding mass. Chenxi hung out of the doorway by one hand. ‘Come on!’

  Anna took two steps off the kerb, but stepped back quickly as a cyclist swerved past. She looked up again and the bus groaned out into the street. With Chenxi still on it.

  ‘The bastard!’ Anna cursed. She felt angry tears prickling in her eyes. ‘He really doesn’t give a shit about me!’ She stood trembling on the pavement watching the bus slide into the traffic. Her stomach heaved in panic. ‘I don’t know where I am! I don’t even know how to ask the way home!’ She was totally dependent on Chenxi, and she hated him all the more for it.

  Tears flowing down her cheeks, she pushed her way through the crowd in the direction the bus had taken. Around her loomed faces with staring black eyes. In her head echoed the chant ‘Wai guo ren! Wai guo ren! Foreigner! Foreigner!’

  Terrified, she pushed blindly on, trying to run. Sweat and tears stung her eyes. She crossed a road and then another. Nothing looked familiar. The bus had disappeared.

  She reached a spot where the crowd was seething, almost impenetrable. Anna squeezed her eyes tight and lunged with all her might.

  She broke through into the middle of a circle and opened her eyes to look at what the crowd had gathered to see.

  Crouched on the pavement was Chenxi. He lifted his face to her. She saw the blood and screamed.

  19

  In the taxi Anna held Chenxi’s head in her arms. She could feel his blood seeping into her shirt. The driver rested his hand on the horn, inching his way through the traffic. She looked down at Chenxi. His eyes were shut.

  ‘Chenxi?’ she whispered.

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to go to hospital? You might have concussion.’

  Chenxi lifted his head and scowled in pain. ‘No!’ he said. ‘I tell you. No hospital!’

  Anna stared out the window. Looking at his bleeding face turned her
stomach. A cyclist bumped off the front of the taxi and glared in at them. The meter ticked.

  At the entrance to her apartment block, she paid the driver and dragged Chenxi out of the taxi. He leant his whole weight into her. The gatekeeper stared at them as she and Chenxi limped past, then he shuffled back into his box and picked up the phone. In the lift Chenxi seemed to wake up a bit. He opened his eyes wide in panic. ‘I cannot come here. What if your father here?’

  ‘So what!’ scoffed Anna, but she was thankful to see a note in her father’s handwriting on the dining table.

  Anna led Chenxi into the bathroom and sat him on the closed toilet seat. She took out cotton wool and filled a cup with warm water. Breathing deeply she turned towards Chenxi’s battered face and set to work. Tenderly, she cleared away the dried blood around his nose and mouth. Working up to his forehead she discovered the source of most of the blood. Chenxi winced as Anna dabbed at the open wound.

  Anna grimaced in sympathy, and every now and then she had to stop and take another big breath before going on. Soon Chenxi’s face was clean. Anna fastened a big wad of white gauze to his forehead. She shuddered. Chenxi opened his eyes.

  ‘It’s finished,’ she whispered.

  Chenxi gave her a smile. His left eye was nearly closed. Anna took Chenxi’s hands in her own and pleaded, ‘Please Chenxi, now will you tell me what happened?’

  His face clouded over and he looked away.

  ‘Chenxi?’

  He sighed. ‘I try get off bus for get you. The ticket man…how you say?’

  ‘Conductor.’

  ‘Conductor close bus door and not let me out. I shout at him and tell him to let me off bus. Then he shout at me that I must buy ticket. I say I do not want buy ticket. I am want get off bus. He tell me he know who I am. He say he know I am artist. He say I am trouble.’ Chenxi’s voice lowered. ‘He say he know I am friends with foreign devil. Then he open door of bus and shout: “You want get off? You get off! I not want you on my bus!” And he push me onto road and bus still move. Many people on bikes hit into me. One man help me onto footpath. People standing all around me shouting, shouting. Then you come.’

  Anna gasped. ‘But you have to tell the police! You can’t let them do that to you!’

  Chenxi flinched. ‘If I tell police it is worse. I have one friend report to police and they beat him. They beat him with sticks with electricity. He is in hospital for long time after that. The police do not like us. They do not like artists. They think we corrupt good Chinese society. You remember Old Wolf we saw today? The police would like find him. They say he bad element. They know I in Old Wolf group, but they cannot do anything to me, I do not do anything wrong. They would like very much to catch me do something wrong.’ He paused. ‘They do not like that I with foreign girl, but they cannot do anything because it is you father ask for me.’

  ‘But Chenxi! This is insane! There must be something you can do! This goes against basic human rights. There are people who can protect you…’ ‘In Australia, maybe,’ Chenxi said bitterly. ‘In China if you choose to be a true artist like me, not artist for the government like everyone in the college, if you choose to be free, you are on your own.’

  ‘I have to do something to help,’ Anna whispered. ‘I have to do something.’ She felt a sob rising and looked away.

  Chenxi lifted her chin. ‘You already help me,’ he smiled.

  Anna wailed, ‘But what? What have I done since I’ve been here except make trouble for you? As if you didn’t have enough trouble of your own! Tell me, what? What have I done?’

  ‘You have give me courage to follow my heart. Before you came I not sure if I really can be artist, I think maybe is too dangerous.’ He was staring at a spot over Anna’s shoulder. He turned then to look at her. ‘You have teach me what is to be free.’

  Inside Anna a thousand voices roared, but she obeyed only one of them. Before she knew it, she had taken Chenxi’s battered face and pressed her mouth to his. When she drew back, his eyes were wide with surprise.

  As if awaking from a trance, Chenxi stood up. ‘I must go!’ he said. ‘You father home soon. At my home too my mother wait!’

  And he was gone.

  20

  Anna drifted out of the brightly lit bathroom to find the lounge room in purple darkness. She peered out the window just in time to catch a glimpse of Chenxi running down the street. She groaned to herself, ‘What have I done?’

  At the gate, Mr White’s dark car drew to a halt. Two people got out. Anna’s father and…she couldn’t identify the second person in the dark. She rushed to turn the lights on and clear up the bathroom.

  ‘Look who I met at the consulate!’ Anna’s father called as he opened the apartment door. Laurent slunk in behind him. ‘I thought you’d be happy to see each other again!’ Mr White was in high spirits. A little drunk, Anna guessed.

  Laurent walked towards Anna and tried to kiss her on both cheeks. Anna cringed. ‘Bonsoir, Anna,’ he said.

  Mr White wandered off into the kitchen. ‘I invited Laurent back for a bite to eat. The aiyi usually leaves something in the fridge on Fridays…let’s see. Yes, here we are… fried noodles! How does that sound? I just have to heat it up in the microwave…Will you set the table, dear?’

  Laurent raised his eyebrows at Anna.

  ‘With pleasure,’ Anna sneered, glaring back at Laurent.

  Anna set out the bowls on the table while Laurent watched her. Mr White appeared with the noodles. He placed them on the table and put on some classical music.

  ‘Sit down, Laurent. Sit down.’

  Anna sat on the other side of her father. She stared down into her bowl.

  ‘Laurent tells me he’s planning on opening a Sino-Franco business franchise here when he’s finished his studies, Anna.’ Mr White raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. ‘He only has one more year of studying Chinese and he’ll be ready to start.’

  Anna helped herself to the noodles. Laurent, realising nobody was going to serve him, took some noodles for himself. Mr White seemed to have forgotten his food. ‘I like a man who knows where he’s going!’ he said, winking at Laurent.

  Laurent smiled back.

  ‘Anyway, Anna, that got me thinking. I was discussing your future with Laurent and I decided that perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing to follow in his footsteps. Mandarin is a very useful language for business, these days. So, this is what I have to propose…’ He paused for emphasis. Laurent looked into his noodles. ‘How about you staying on and studying at the university with Laurent?’

  Mr White leaned back, satisfied. Laurent shot Anna a furtive glance.

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘You wouldn’t have to worry about the money, dear. I’ll cover that. And you could stay on the campus with all the other foreign students. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘Really, I think it’s an excellent idea. And it would give you both a good opportunity to get to know each other!’ He winked at Laurent again. Laurent looked away.

  Anna pushed her chair back from the table. ‘Can we talk about this another time, Dad?’ she said. ‘I really don’t think this is something we should be discussing right now!’ She shook her head at Laurent.

  As Anna left the room, she heard her father whispering to Laurent, ‘Really! It’s impossible to get an answer out of that girl!’

  She sat on her bed, trembling with fury. Once again she realised how much her father had always made all the decisions for everyone in her family. Even though he no longer lived with Anna and her sisters, her mother still deferred to him when an important decision had to be made. Worse, Anna knew she was at fault herself. Following the path her father paved for her had always been the easiest route, and she willingly chose it. Why couldn’t she stand up to him? Why couldn’t she tell him what she wanted to do? Was it because, if she did defy him, she would have to make all those decisions by herself?

  The following morning was Saturday, and Mr White was u
p early to get in a half day’s work. Like every Saturday, he would be back in time for a late lunch with Anna. Grateful to have the morning to herself, she rolled over to her bedside table and picked up her journal. Confusion whirred through her head. If she could just get it down on paper she might be able to order her thoughts a little.

  April 30th, 1989

  Chenxi—I can still feel your kiss but when I think of you it is as if I am floating in a void. Darkness surrounds me and all I see in front of me is your bleeding face. And those eyes that I find so hard to read. I have never known eyes so hard to read before...

  Anna wrote into the morning. Everything that drifted through her head was transferred onto paper. As the words formed in front of her eyes, page after page, she emptied herself. In writing she could pretend her life was fiction. One great novel whose ending would write itself but which she couldn’t predict.

  She put down her pen only when she heard the aiyi unlock the front door. She stood up and stretched. Not in the mood to converse in their bumbling, improvised sign language, Anna put her journal back on the bedside table and pulled on her clothes.

  When she heard the aiyi washing up in the kitchen, she slipped out, for a walk through Fuxing Park.

  The fashion for school children in Shanghai that year was yo-yos. A group of ten year olds with red faces and red scarves stood in a circle, their hair sweaty on their foreheads, practising their tricks. These were fat children, under-exercised and overfed, spoilt boys with no siblings to attract attention away from them in a family of doting parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts. One stopped his yo-yo in mid-swing and grunted to his friend, ‘Wai guo ren!’ His friend looked up.

  As Anna approached, the boys drew into a line and began a low earnest chant: ‘Wai guo ren. Wai guo ren. Wai guo ren.’

  Encouraged by Anna’s frown, and with the excitement that comes from being in a group, the boys called louder: ‘Wai guo ren! Wai guo ren!’