by Sally Rippin
Anna passed, and the boys closed in behind her. Ten-year-old boys who like to pull the legs off crickets for fun, ten year olds with nasty laughs. Behind her, the chant grew louder, ‘Wai guo ren! Wai guo ren! Wai guo ren!’
She walked faster, pretending not to hear.
Leaving the park and the boys behind, she walked down a street she hadn’t taken before. It was a side street and quiet compared to the roar of Huai Hai Lu. She stopped at a shop on the corner and a procession of curious onlookers gathered and pushed from behind to see what she would buy. The shopkeeper was embarrassed and got up reluctantly from his stool in front of the television. He called his wife out for a look. Anna tried the little Chinese the aiyi had taught her.
‘Wo yao mai…’ she began, but she didn’t know the word for grapes, so she pointed to a small green bunch hanging in front of her. The crowd behind her howled with laughter.
‘Wo yao mai…wo yao mai…’ they mimicked. ‘She wants to buy grapes!’ they shouted at the passers-by who hadn’t stopped yet. ‘The foreigner’s going to buy grapes!’
The shopkeeper thrust the grapes at her, and Anna held out her purse for him to take out the money. A toothless old woman, shoving among the crowd at Anna’s elbow, pushed the shopkeeper’s hand away and took some coins from Anna’s purse to give him. He grumbled to the old woman but she snapped back and prodded at the sign beneath the grapes with a brown fingernail.
‘Thank you,’ Anna said, smiling at the old woman. She popped a grape into her mouth. The woman’s eyes flashed and she shrieked at Anna, shaking her head and her hands. Anna spat the grape out. The woman pulled the bunch from Anna’s grasp and plucked a single grape. Methodically she peeled the skin with her stained fingertips, pushing the shiny bald fruit towards Anna’s mouth when she had finished. The crowd behind her was still tutting at Anna and shaking their fingers at the unpeeled grapes. Anna ate what was left of the grape, thanked the old woman again, and tucked the rest of the bunch into her bag. She turned to walk away but the crowd was thick around her. They shifted a little to let her push past.
Anna arrived back at the apartment to find her father sitting at the table, reading. The dishes from breakfast lay all around him.
‘Hi,’ he said coolly, peering over the top of his glasses. ‘Where have you been?’ He pulled out a chair for Anna.
‘Didn’t the aiyi finish cleaning today?’ Anna said, stacking the dishes. She took them to the kitchen and ran water into the sink. Her father came in behind her.
‘I sacked her,’ he said.
‘Oh? I must admit I didn’t find her that conscientious.’ ‘I caught her looking through my papers. I’ve suspected her for a while. The consulate’s lining me up with a replacement next week.’
‘Why would she want to be looking at engineering contracts?’ Anna joked. She turned off the water and reached down into the bottom cupboard for a pair of rubber gloves.
‘I have some very important documents here,’ he said, offended. ‘There may be many other companies interested in seeing them.’
‘Sorry Dad,’ Anna said. She remembered Laurent, convinced that he was being spied on, and wondered if living in Shanghai encouraged paranoia.
Still, she was glad the aiyi seemed to have preoccupied her father for the time being. She didn’t feel in the mood for any more lectures about her future.
Anna took three pieces of white bread and some cheese on a plate and slipped out of the kitchen to her room. Without the aiyi, there was no chance of her father organising a meal.
In their small room, Chenxi waited for his mother to return, with a live fish or a bag of dumplings in her basket for them to share. Before him, on the table where they ate and worked, lay the painting he had been working on. He squinted. It was getting dark and he stood up to turn on the lamp. The painting was finished. And Chenxi was pleased with it. He would give it to Anna when he saw her next.
21
‘I have something for you,’ Chenxi whispered to Anna as he passed her desk. Anna looked up at him in surprise. She had been concentrating so hard on her painting that she hadn’t noticed him come in. It was Monday morning. Anna had been worried about him all weekend. Apart from a dark ring around his left eye, Chenxi’s face had almost healed, but he had worn his hair down to cover the neat bandage on his forehead. Anna felt a rush of tenderness towards him.
‘I meet you at your apartment after class,’ he said.
Anna nodded.
The morning was tedious. Anna glanced towards Chenxi several times, hoping for a secret look, but as usual, and as if nothing had ever happened between them, he spoke to her only to translate something important the teacher said.
At one stage, Lao Li caught Anna gazing at Chenxi. He stared at her. Anna put her head down again and tried to concentrate on her painting. She was working on another copy of a fan on silk, this time a bird and flower composition, but somehow it lacked the interior force of the landscape she had painted on her own that Saturday morning.
They ate noodles together at lunchtime with Lao Li, as they always did. When Chenxi’s leg brushed against Anna’s under the table, she looked at him to see if it was a sign, but his head was bowed over his bowl of noodles.
For the afternoon class they again had a model. This time it was an old man in a loincloth. No matter how Anna worked, she couldn’t seem to capture his sagging face. Normally this task would have been easy for her but having Chenxi in the room was too distracting.
Finally it was time to return home. Anna sauntered out in front of Chenxi, while he packed up his brushes. She met him at the bike shelter. Even as he unlocked his bike he only glanced at Anna, waving and calling to students all around him as they wobbled off home.
Anna followed Chenxi as he rode out the front gates. For an instant, she held her breath and waited to see if he would turn left in the direction of her apartment, or right, the direction of his own home. The secret message whispered to her that morning seemed now merely a dream. He turned left, and she sped to catch up.
Chenxi rode fast, as always. Anna concentrated all her efforts on keeping up with him, never quite reaching his side. It was only as they passed the music conservatory and rounded the corner into her dead-end street that Chenxi slowed, allowing Anna, breathless and sweaty, to draw level with him.
She wheeled her bike next to Chenxi as they passed through the high black gates of the apartment block. The gatekeeper’s hawk-eye was fixed upon them.
‘Here,’ said Chenxi when they were seated on her father’s ivory silk couch. ‘Something of me to take home with you to Australia.’ From his shabby backpack, he drew out a roll of newspaper and handed it to Anna. She pulled her legs up underneath her and crossed them ceremoniously before unrolling the paper.
Inside, delicately painted on a long piece of silk, sat a woman on a golden throne, hands resting in her lap. Her emerald and sapphire robe fell in luxurious folds over her knees and into the landscape, the fabric itself patterned with mountainous peaks, spiralling clouds and valleys, until it was impossible to decipher where the woman’s body ended and where the landscape began. She wore an ornamental headdress, like that of a Chinese empress. But the hair that escaped from beneath it was fair and curling instead of shiny black.
When Anna looked at the tiny face under the white powder and red painted lips, she recognised it. She saw herself reflected in the brilliant blue eyes and knew the face was her own.
She rolled the painting back into its newspaper shell and stood up to place it on the coffee table. She turned back to Chenxi, then knelt on the carpet in front of him and looked up into his eyes. She kissed them, those expressionless eyes that had troubled her for so long. Chenxi did not move. Anna kissed the bridge of his nose, and waited. She began to tremble. Closing her eyes she brought her mouth close to his, not quite touching. There she waited, breathing the same air, until Chenxi kissed her.
He tasted warm and sour and smelled like cinnamon and the feel of his skin was softer than sh
e could have imagined and so different from anything she had known. He seemed to be waiting for her lead, so she took his palm and placed it against her ribs, underneath her shirt. There it slid upwards and she shivered as he explored her breasts and wondered how different she felt to him. He drew back and played curiously with one of her long curls, and she, in turn, ran her hands through his long black hair, surprised at how coarse it was after the softness of his skin.
Anna knew they had reached a point where, at home in Melbourne, a bumbling conversation about contraception might begin; but not wanting to spoil the moment she silently counted the days since her last period and decided it was worth the risk. She had taken risks before. Chenxi flinched as she reached for his belt buckle and she wondered if Chinese girls were so brazen, but then they were kissing again and it was so easy to slide out of their clothes. His body was long and sleek, smooth and hairless. Just as she had imagined it would be.
He seemed to like that she was taking charge and they were both breathing heavily by now. Her head began to spin. She pulled him down on top of her and he kissed her neck and then the space between her breasts. She slid her hands along his ribs to the curve of his lower back then shuddered when he slid inside her and arched her back to meet him.
She had fantasised about this moment for so long and now that he was between her thighs he felt like a stranger again. He moved urgently, but seemed distant. His eyes were closed. His breathing quickened and through the fug of her desire she thought of asking him to pull out, just to be safe, but then it was over. It was too fast. Anna tried not to feel disappointed. Was it always this way for girls?
He rolled off and they both lay on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling. The air around them simmered with awkwardness and desire. Anna propped herself up to look into Chenxi’s face. The skin on his face was smooth and tight. The muscles around his eyes hardly moved, even when he smiled. But when she looked deeper, even deeper, Anna glimpsed a slow fire roaring. Then it was gone.
‘I must leave!’ His voice was hoarse, and before she could protest, he was dressing.
‘Stay!’
‘Don’t ask me to.’
‘Then walk with me in the park.’ She couldn’t be parted from him yet.
In the entrance to Fuxing Park squatted the old fortune teller. Anna had often watched him reading people’s hands, as she read their faces, trying to determine whether they were happy with the outcome. Sometimes he had spotted her spying and called, ‘Tell your fortune? Tell your fortune, Little Miss Foreigner? I speak very good English. I tell you who you marry!’ But Anna had always been too shy.
Today, with Chenxi by her side and the sensation of his skin still burning in hers, she felt daring and pulled him over to the stall. The fortune teller’s face lit up.
‘Come on!’ Anna pleaded coquettishly, but Chenxi stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘Just for fun!’
‘I no believe that rubbish!’
‘Oh come on!’ Anna giggled and thrust her palm into the old man’s weathered ones. The fortune teller’s brow wrinkled as he traced the lines along Anna’s palm with a yellow nail.
‘You have long life…’ he murmured. ‘You have lots of money and success…’ Anna smiled to herself. It was always the same.
The old man’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You have many children!’ he squealed. ‘With him!’ He pointed to Chenxi. Anna pulled her hand away as if it had been burnt.
‘Oh nonsense!’ She laughed.
‘It’s true! It’s true. You will marry this man!’
‘Come on!’ Chenxi snapped. ‘Let’s go.’ He fished a coin out of his pocket to give the fortune teller, but the old man grabbed hold of Chenxi’s palm.
The fortune teller’s eyes widened in horror. ‘And you, my son,’ he crowed, ‘will follow the path of your father!’
Chenxi pulled Anna by the arm into the park, while the fortune teller cackled behind them.
‘Don’t worry,’ Anna said. ‘I don’t believe in that crap either. It’s just for fun. They say the same to everyone.’
‘We each choose our own road to walk down,’ Chenxi muttered, staring ahead. Anna skipped to catch up with him.
In the shelter of an ornate rock display, Chenxi and Anna found a bench hidden from curious eyes. At their feet a goldfish pond writhed with shiny scales that thrashed to the surface when Chenxi cleared his throat and spat into the water. Anna stared at the huge goggle eyes of the goldfish and wondered how to begin.
‘Chenxi, I’ve thought about this for a long time.’ Her heart was pounding. She was about to declare her true feelings for him, and she couldn’t bear to think they might be rejected. But if she didn’t speak now, she would never know. After today, she was sure it was impossible that he couldn’t love her, too.
‘I think there’s a way I can help you,’ she began.
Chenxi lit a cigarette.
Anna took a deep breath. ‘I can bring you back to Melbourne with me. There you will be safe. We would have to get married for the papers, of course, but the most important thing is you will leave China.’
Chenxi studied the top of his cigarette and blew on it. ‘I do not want leave China. Why you think I want to leave China?’
‘Oh Chenxi! You’re just cut up about what that old man said. He freaked you out, that’s all. Chenxi, I know what happened to your father. I know how you feel about foreigners, but you’re just being ridiculous! I am offering for you to come to Australia with me! To leave China. You’re not safe in China. In Australia you will be safe.’
‘I do not want leave China.’
‘You don’t want to leave China?’ Anna was incredulous. ‘But all students want to leave China!’ Anna stumbled. She hadn’t expected this!
‘But, you see, Anna, I am not “all students”.’ His smile was forced.
Anna stared at him. Then she turned and glared at the fish pond. ‘You’re crazy!’ She was hurt and she wanted to hurt him. ‘You stay here and you’re finished!’
‘Yes,’ said Chenxi, grinning now. ‘I am crazy. That what my mother say, that what my college say, that what Chinese government say…’ His grin turned into a sneer. ‘They all say, like you, to be artist is crazy. If that what you think, then I am crazy. What you want I do in Australia? Open Chinese restaurant like all my family in America?’
‘You can be an artist, Chenxi! You can be free!’
‘There is no use for me to be artist in Australia. There I have nothing to say. I am artist for China. China is my country that I hate and that I love, but China is me. In Australia I am nothing. In Australia it mean nothing to be free!’ Chenxi ground his butt out with his foot. He brought his face close to Anna’s. ‘You see!’ he whispered. ‘Not all Chinese want to go to you precious Australia!’
Then he stood up and was gone.
The school children packed up their yo-yos and left. The strolling couples gathered beneath the trees and Fuxing Park became mauve and mysterious. In perfect synchrony, the lamps flickered, then gleamed. Under one of them spun a dizzy moth, under another sat Anna. When her legs began to numb and her bare arms to prickle in the evening chill, she stood up, crossed the park, and walked home.
22
The next day when Anna turned up to the college to find Chenxi wasn’t there, she was relieved. The second day, annoyed. The third day, she began to feel worried. When she was eating noodles with Lao Li, she blurted out, ‘Lao Li, Chenxi zai nar? Where is Chenxi?’
Lao Li pushed away his bowl, grinning mysteriously, and beckoned for Anna to follow him. They wheeled their bikes into the crowded street and rode side by side along Huai Hai Lu.
When they had nearly reached downtown, Lao Li signalled for Anna to pull over into a vast square lined by long grey buildings. They parked their bikes in the crowded rack and walked to the building on the right, from which hung a long red banner covered in huge black Chinese characters. Anna looked at Lao Li for a clue, but he just beckoned her to follow him.
Inside the foyer, Anna r
ealised they were in an immense gallery. Lao Li led her up the stairs, where the rumbling of voices grew louder as they reached the top floor. A crowd of people had gathered, many of them foreigners, along with a Chinese television crew. Anna skirted the crowd and saw students from her college who smiled at her. As she moved through the sweaty bodies, trying to see what they were all looking at, she came face to face with Laurent.
‘Hey,’ he said, pushing Anna in front of him. ‘Look at this! Your boyfriend’s putting on quite a show!’
Anna peered in and gasped. On an old school chair, sat Chenxi, bare-chested. Slowly shaving off Chenxi’s long hair with an antique razor blade was Old Wolf. He stood behind Chenxi, dressed in a white fabric cloak printed with Chinese news clippings. All over the cloak were handprints of blood-red paint. As another lock of hair dropped to the floor, Old Wolf shouted out some words. Anna stood mesmerised, trying to understand. People and cameras were pushing to get a view. Anna wanted to catch a glimpse of Chenxi’s face but his head was bowed low into his chest. On the floor around him, his blue-black hair glinted under the neon lights. Ebony strokes on the white stone tiles like Chinese characters on rice paper.
As the last lock of hair fell to the ground somebody cried out, as if in pain. Chenxi looked up, wild-eyed, and for a split-second his gaze met Anna’s. Before she knew what was happening he had darted out of the circle and was swallowed up by the crowd. When she looked back Old Wolf, too, had disappeared.
Anna struggled through the mass of bodies to the stairwell, hoping to find Chenxi. As she pounded down the empty staircase, she heard footsteps echoing her own, close behind. In the foyer Laurent caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm.
‘Let go! Let go!’ she snarled, twisting out of his grip.
‘No, you let go!’ Laurent hissed. ‘Anna. You have to let him go.’