Ha Jin - A Good Fall

It was sprinkling, raindrops pattering fitfully on the bay windows. Lina was watching the evening news, but her mind hardly registered what the anchorman was saying, nor was she captivated by the horrific scene the TV was showing of the havoc wreaked by a suicide bomber at a bus stop in Mosul. Around six o’clock the door opened and Panbin stepped in. Leaving his umbrella in a corner to dry, he said, “Mm, smells good.” He was a tall man of thirty-four and looked younger than his age.

Lina went over to the dining table while telling him, “I came back earlier.” She lit a candle and planted it on the steel pinecone.

He scanned the meal. “What special day is today? A holiday?”

“No. I just thought we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate what, the second anniversary of our friendship?” He laughed, a little embarrassed by his own joke.

“You can say that, but this is also for our parting. Come, sit down and dig in.”

Having shucked off his jacket, he slumped down on a chair and picked up a pair of chopsticks. “I told you I wouldn’t think of it,” he said.

“Don’t be silly! Zuming will be here soon and I have to move out. If he knows about our affair, I’ll be in big trouble.”

He sighed, chewing a piece of curried chicken pensively. He’d never met her husband, but she’d talked about Zuming so much that Panbin felt as if he’d known the man for ages. He told her, “Maybe I can speak to him after he settles in.”

“No. Don’t ever provoke him. He practiced kung fu for many years and might beat you up.”

“So? If you want to divorce him, he’ll have no choice.”

“Why should I do that? Before I moved in, you and I had agreed that the moment your wife or my husband came, our partnership would end.”

“Things have changed. I love you, you know.”

“Don’t be softheaded about this. Come, for the good time we spent together.” She raised her glass of Chablis, but he shook his head and didn’t touch his wine, his pale face taut.

She put down her glass, and a prolonged silence ensued.

He finished the last bit of rice on his plate, got up, and said, “Thanks for this memorable dinner.” He headed away to his own room upstairs, his feet thumping up the flight of wood steps.

She expected him to come to her that night, but except for going to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth, he didn’t step out of his room. At the same time, she was afraid he’d join her in bed, because once he took her into his arms, she might lose her head and promise him whatever he asked for, even something beyond her ability to fulfill. She remembered that he’d once made her call him laogong (hubby) again and again while making love to her. Afterward she had felt so guilty that she bought a digital camera and had it delivered to her husband for his birthday. Tonight, despite her fear of losing self-control, she longed to have that intense intimacy with Panbin for the last time. After Zuming came, she would have to become a faithful wife again.

When she got up the next morning, Panbin had left for work without having breakfast. Usually he would make toast, scramble eggs, and boil rice porridge or sesame gruel for both of them, but today he’d done nothing and had not even touched the leftovers from the previous evening. She knew she might have injured his feelings, but he was being unreasonable. They had a written agreement that entitled either of them to call off their relationship anytime without the other’s consent. From the very beginning they’d both understood it was just for mutual convenience that they had come together.

In her tax office she was absentminded for a whole day, and even exchanged words with an old customer who complained that she had not deducted enough business expenses on the form she’d filled out for him. He was a supervisor at a warehouse but demanded almost eight thousand dollars in tax credits for things such as brand-name suits, shoes, a computer, books, magazines, floor lamps, batteries, even a pair of dumbbells. Lina said this was cheating the IRS. The bull-necked old codger flew into a rage and said he’d go to another tax office that could give him a better deal. Somehow a rush of emotion drove Lina to the brink of tears, but she took hold of herself and told him, “Okay, suit yourself.” Hard as she tried, she couldn’t manage a smile.

After the customer left, Lina finished up for the day. It wasn’t four o’clock yet, but she planned to move out of Panbin’s house today. Three days ago she had rented a place, a one-bedroom apartment on Sanford Avenue. She wondered if she should ask someone to give her a hand, but decided first to make sure she had packed everything. Perhaps, she hoped, she wouldn’t have to take her belongings with her all at once. Her husband wouldn’t arrive until late March, still two weeks away.

To her surprise, Panbin was at home. On the floor of the living room sat her six boxes, all opened; evidently he’d been rummaging through them. She sneered, “You want to see if I filched something?”

“No, just curious.” He grinned and lifted her one-piece swimsuit. “I’ve never seen you wear this.” He sniffed it. “May I keep it?”

“For a million dollars.” She giggled. “I’m a married woman with a husband.”

He dropped her swimsuit back into a box and said, “Sit down. Let’s talk. I was out of my head yesterday evening. I’m sorry about that.”

His apology mollified her some, and she sat down opposite him. She said, “Please don’t act like a crazy youngster.”

“You know what, I feel I’m also your husband.” The expression on his face was serious, almost stony.

“Where’s our marriage certificate?” She giggled again, her cheeks twitching a little.

“That’s just a piece of paper. I love you. I know you better, I know every part of you, I know all your likes and dislikes, and I know you love me too.”

“Don’t talk like that, please! We’re both married and must be responsible. Can you abandon your wife and kid for another woman?”

“Well, I’m not sure.”

“See, don’t play the hypocrite. What we’ve done is wrong, and we ought to mend our ways, the sooner the better. Truth be told, I am fond of you, but I must take my heart back and tame it before Zuming comes.”

“Tell me, do you still love him?”

“This has little to do with love. I’ll try to be a good wife to him.”

“Can’t we remain friends?”

“Depends on what kind of friendship you have in mind.”

“I mean, we’ll meet once in a while.”

“And hop into bed?”

He grinned while nodding yes, his round eyes glimmering. “Honestly, I love you more than my wife, but I can’t divorce her because there’s no way I can take my son away from her.”

“So let’s part ways now,” she said, unsure if he was telling the truth. “The temporary pain will ward off all the miserable complications.”

“It’s not that simple. I won’t let you go.”

“But you cannot make me stay.”

“You know, I have a mouth that can talk.”

“God, are you threatening me? You will brief Zuming on our affair if I don’t remain your mistress?”

He made no reply, an awkward smile breaking on his face while small fans of rays appeared at the outside corners of his eyes. He exhaled a long sigh.

Not sure if he’d just issued her a warning, she was upset and went to the kitchen to call a cab. He followed her and pressed down the switch hook of the phone, saying, “I’m still your chauffeur and coolie, you know.” He grimaced and his eyes clouded over.

She wanted to say he was a free man now, but her voice failed her. Together they carried her boxes down to his SUV in the driveway.

Living alone was no longer easy for Lina. She was accustomed to Panbin’s house, to its spacious living room and the big, comfortable bed, and also to the meals he’d made for both of them. When they’d been together, he wouldn’t let her cook because she complained that too much exposure to kitchen grease would age her skin. He joked that she was just a lazybones, but he took over the cooking and liked it. Now, in her own apartment, she had to do everything herself. Sometimes she wouldn’t make dinner and would just pick up one or two things at a delicatessen. Since moving out, she’d expected Panbin to call, but he never did. Perhaps he was still full of spleen, as the saying affirms: “You hate as much as you love.” But he was not a young bachelor and shouldn’t have behaved as if she’d jilted him and wasted his life. At times she wanted to phone him, just to see how he was doing, and once she even dialed his number but at the second ring hung up. If only she could shut him out of her mind. If only her workplace weren’t in downtown Flushing so that every day she wouldn’t have to pass the building that housed his software company. Whenever she walked on the street, she was afraid of bumping into him.