Ha Jin - In the Pond

Yen’s letter came the next afternoon. He advised Bin to remain calm and patient, biding his time. “Brother Shao,” he wrote, “you must be able to endure; otherwise you will lose the opportunity. Don’t talk back or argue with them. Just keep quiet.” Yen also suggested that between the two leaders Ma seemed less wicked, so Bin should work on Ma, trying to bring him around first. Meanwhile, Yen would find someone in the county town who knew Secretary Yang well, to persuade him. Once Yang and Ma agreed to let Bin go, Liu would have to concede.

Meilan and Bin thought Yen’s advice sound and feasible; they decided to work on Ma without delay.

After supper, they left Shanshan with the salesgirls who lived next door and set out for Ma’s. Bin rode his National Defense bicycle, Meilan sitting on its carrier. Coming toward the plant, he saw in the distance the houses in Workers’ Park lined up neatly, the red tiles, wet with rain, glistening in the setting sun, and the sycamores beside the houses already leafy with small crowns. Again the sight of the compound kindled his anger, but he forced himself to remain unperturbed. He kept saying to himself, a strong man must be able to stoop and stand up according to circumstances. Housing is something outside yourself and shouldn’t be valued too much.

Without Bin’s knowledge, that afternoon the official news of his admission had arrived. It indeed came like thunder and blew up the leaders’ plan to make a jackass of him in the eyes of the plant. Shao Bin had done it again! Whatever you called him, a lunatic or a mad dog, you couldn’t deny he was bursting with talent and energy and was a scholar by nature. With only five years’ education, he had tackled those difficult exams and got admitted to a college, whereas every one of the commune’s three hundred high-school graduates had flunked the exams this year. Who could deny that Shao Bin had an extraordinary mind?

The leaders, especially Ma, felt they should have let Bin do the propaganda work; such a conciliatory gesture on their part could have prevented the hostility between Bin and them from mounting up.

“You know what,” Ma said to Liu on their way to Workers’ Park, “we should’ve made better use of this odd man and given him an apartment last year.”

“Yes, but it’s too late now,” Liu said thoughtfully. “He’s already our deadly enemy. From now on, we must be very careful when dealing with him, or he’ll capsize our boat. Who could foretell he’d grow into such a big fish?”

Ma made no further comment and parted company with Liu. He and his wife had saved four thousand yuan for their youngest daughter’s college education, but year after year the girl failed the exams. Shao Bin, this wizard of a fitter, had made it with only two weeks’ preparation. What could you say? You had to admit he was a tremendous learner at least. In his heart Ma couldn’t help but respect Bin. It seemed there was simply no way to stop this weird fellow, and sooner or later he would become somebody.

At dinner Ma told his wife of the news. Mrs. Ma was amazed and upset at the same time, because two days ago they had been informed that their daughter was thirty points below the admission standard. This meant they would have to send her to the preparatory school in Gold County again the next year.

“How come it was so easy for him?” she asked her husband, chewing spinach.

“Beats me.”

“You know, this will be big news in town. Are you going to let him go?” Her bulbous nose was wet with beads of perspiration.

“I don’t know. Liu Shu and I haven’t talked about it yet.”

“I think you should let him go this time. If you don’t, he’ll remember you for the rest of his life. He’ll take more revenge. Who wouldn’t?” She thrust a spoon of stewed potatoes into the mouth of their two-year-old grandson, who was sitting in her lap.

Ma didn’t say another word and kept eating his corn porridge. It was his principle that his wife shouldn’t interfere with his work. He picked up a fried loach with his chopsticks and sipped the sorghum liquor from his cup. Though he tried not to think of the admission for the moment, his wife’s words were sinking in. He had five children and a grandson and two granddaughters; for them he had better accumulate some virtuous deeds, so that people would treat them well after he left this world. Shao Bin would ruin them if he hurt him too much.

The moment the Mas finished dinner, Bin and Meilan arrived. Mrs. Ma poured them each a cup of jasmine tea and then went to the kitchen to do the dishes. Bin was shocked that the leaders had heard of the admission. Ma told him the letter hadn’t been discussed yet. Bin begged him to raise his noble hands just this once and let him go; Ma said that he was not inclined to keep him here and that the admission was also an honor to the plant.

To a certain extent Ma felt for Bin, because he had hit his crotch in the theater, even though Bin thought it was Liu who had done that. “I’ll talk with Secretary Liu,” said Ma. “We’ll let you know of our decision soon.” He waved his cigarette, a skein of smoke encircling his hairy wrist.

“Thank you, Director Ma,” the couple said in unison.

“Young Shao, let me give you a piece of advice. You should learn to be modest and prudent. One always loses by being proud and gains by being modest.” Ma was referring to an instruction from Chairman Mao.

“Yes, I will remember that,” Bin said and grinned.

Ma then asked him what textbooks were more useful for the exams. Hesitating for a second, Bin told him he had used the set published by Jilin University. Ma made a mental note to tell his daughter to look into those books.

As Mrs. Ma stepped in, wiping her hands on a towel, Meilan opened her handbag and took out four green apples. “These’re for the kid,” she said, shyly avoiding Mrs. Ma’s eyes. She handed one of them to the baby boy, who was playing with a toy tank on the floor. He looked at the apple but didn’t touch it.

“No, we have a lot of fruit,” Mrs. Ma said, trying to put the apples back into the handbag.

Meilan stuck the bag under her own arm and said, “Just for the kid, Aunt. They’re Indian Green.”

Bin didn’t want to stay long, he was afraid of being seen by others, so the Shaos took their leave.

After they left, Ma’s face sank; he was not pleased with the apples. “What a bookworm,” he said to his wife when the young couple were out of earshot. “He doesn’t even know how to give a gift. Just four apples, crazy.” He tapped his cigarette on the rim of an empty honey jar he used as an ashtray.

He got to his feet and stretched his hands, yawning. With the apples in his jacket pockets, two on each side, he left for Liu’s to discuss the college admission.

Bin was working at a welding machine the next morning when Hsiao tapped his shoulder and told him that the plant’s leaders wanted him to attend a family-planning meeting in the union office at four in the afternoon. Bin was puzzled, because Meilan and he hadn’t done anything violating the one-child policy. He guessed that perhaps he was being invited to help enforce the policy. If so, this wasn’t a good sign; in the normal course of events, if he was going to leave the plant soon he shouldn’t be assigned any official role. Another thought unnerved him a great deal, namely that the leaders might know his exam results and meant to use this opportunity to ridicule him.

At four, in the union office, all the heads of the workshops and offices were present, in addition to the women representatives and the four workers who had second-born babies. In total, about thirty people sat around six long desks grouped together. Bin took a seat at a corner of a desk.

The union chairman, Bao, started by reporting on the situation of family planning in the plant. He was almost illiterate and couldn’t speak well, so in a halting tone he was reading out the report prepared for him by his assistant. He declared that the plant had intended to become a model of implementing the family-planning policy, but four second-born babies this year had spoiled the plan. The Third Workshop alone had three second-borns.