Ha Jin: A Good Fall

“But that’s a Korean store,” I said.

“I feel so awful to be Chinese here, because China always makes cheap products,” Lili said. “China has degraded its people and let me down.”

I didn’t know what to say. How could an individual blame a country for her personal trouble?

That night, I asked Huong to come out, and together we talked under the weeping cherry. The stringy branches floated in a cool breeze, while the leaves, like a swarm of arrowheads, flickered in the soft rays cast by the streetlights. Fireworks were exploding in the west, at Shea Stadium — the Mets must have won a game. I worked up my nerve and said to Huong, “Why can’t you quit this sex work so we can be together?”

Her eyes gleamed, fastened on me. “You mean you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, but I also want you to stop selling yourself.”

She sighed. “I have to pay the Croc two thousand dollars a month. There’s no other way I can make that kind of money.”

“How much of your smuggling fee do you still owe him?”

“My parents paid up their fifteen percent in Vietnam, but I still have eighteen thousand to pay.”

I paused, figuring out some numbers in my head. That was a big sum, but not impossible. “I can make more than fourteen hundred a month. After the rent and everything, I’ll have about a thousand left. I can help you pay the debt if you quit your work.”

“Where can I get the other thousand every month? I’d love to be a sewer, but that doesn’t pay enough. I’ve been thinking about the job ever since you mentioned it. It would take a long time for me to get enough experience to make even three hundred a week. Meanwhile, how can I pay the Croc?” She swallowed, then continued, “I often dream of going back, but my parents won’t let me. They say that my little brother will join me here eventually. They only want me to send them more money. If only I could jump ship.”

We talked for more than an hour, trying to figure out a way. She seemed elated by my offer to help, but at moments her excitement unnerved me a little and made me wonder whether I was being rash. What if we didn’t get along? How could we conceal her past from others? Despite my uneasiness, in my mind’s eye I kept seeing her in a small white cottage stirring a pot with a large ladle while humming a song, and outside, children’s voices were rising and falling. I suggested that we speak to the Croc in person and see if there was another way of paying him. Before she went back to the house, she kissed me on the cheek and said, “Wanping, I would do anything for you. You are a good man.”

Great joy welled up in my heart, and I stayed in the damp air for a long time, dreaming of how we could start our life anew someday. If only I had more cash. I thought of asking Huong to share my bed, but decided not to, for fear that the other two women might inform Mrs. Chen of our relationship. A full moon was shining on the sleeping street, the walls and roofs bathed in the whitish light. Insects were chirring timidly, as if short of breath.

Two days later, I left work earlier, and Huong and I set out to meet with the Croc, who had sounded Cantonese on the phone. We crossed Northern Boulevard and headed for the area near I-678. His headquarters was on Thirty-second Avenue, in a large warehouse. Two prostitutes, one white and the other Hispanic, were loitering in front, wearing nothing but bras and frayed jean shorts. Both of them seemed high on something, and the white woman, who had tousled hair and a missing tooth, shouted at me, “Hey, can you spare a smoke?”

I shook my head. Huong and I hurried into the warehouse. It’s interior was filled with large boxes of textiles and shoes. We found the office in a corner. A strapping man was sprawled in a leather chair, smoking a cigar. He sat up at the sight of us and smirked. “Take a seat,” he said, pointing at a sofa.

The moment we sat down, Huong said, “This is my boyfriend, Wanping. We came to ask you a favor.”

The man nodded at me. He turned to Huong. “Okay, what can I do for you?”

“I need some extra time. Can I pay you thirteen hundred a month?”

“No way.” He smirked again, his ratlike eyes darting right and left.

“How about fifteen hundred?”

“I said no.”

“You see, I have a medical condition and have to take a different job that doesn’t pay as much.”

“That’s not my problem.” He fingered his wispy mustache.

I stepped in. “I will help her pay you, but we simply cannot come up with two thousand a month for now. Please give us an extra half year.”

“A rule is a rule. If someone breaks it with impunity, the rule will have no force anymore. We’ve never given anyone such an extension. So don’t even try to get clever with me. If you don’t pay the full amount in time, you know what we’ll do.” He jerked his thumb at Huong.

She looked at me, tears forming in her eyes. I patted her arm, signaling that we should leave. We got up and left the warehouse after saying we appreciated his meeting with us.

On the way back, we talked about what the consequences would be if we failed to make the monthly payment. I was pensive, knowing it was dangerous to deal with a thug like the Croc. I had heard horrifying stories of how members of the Asian Mafia punished people, especially new arrivals who had offended them. They had shoved a man into a van and shipped him to a cannery in New Jersey to make pet food of him; they had cut off a little girl’s nose because her father hadn’t paid them the protection fee; they had tied a middle-aged woman’s hands, plugged her mouth, stuffed her into a burlap sack, and then dropped her into the ocean. The Chinese gangs spread the Mafia stories to intimidate people. Some of those tales might just be rumors, and, granted, the Croc might not belong to the Mafia at all, but he could do Huong and me in easily. He had to be a gangster, if not the leader of a gang. Also, he likely had networks in China and Vietnam that could hurt our families.

After dinner, I went into Huong’s room, which was clean and smelled of pineapple. On the windowsill sat a vase of marigolds. I said to her, “What if we just leave New York?”

“And go where?” She sounded calm, as if she too had this idea.

“Anywhere. America is a big country, and we can live in a remote town under different names, or move around, working on farms like the Mexicans. There must be some way for us to survive. First we can go to North Carolina, and from there we’ll move on.”

“What about my family? The Croc will hold my parents accountable.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much. You have to take care of yourself first.”

“My parents would never forgive me if I just disappeared.”

“But haven’t they just been using you? You’ve been their cash cow.”

That seemed to be sinking in. A moment later, she said, “You’re right. Let’s get out of here.”

We decided to leave as soon as possible. She had some cash on hand, about two thousand dollars, while I still had fourteen hundred in my savings account. The next morning on the way to work I stopped at Cathay Bank and took out all the money. I felt kind of low, knowing that from now on I couldn’t write to my parents, or the Croc’s men might hunt us down. To my family, I would be as good as dead. In this place, we had no choice but to take loss as necessity.

That afternoon, Huong had packed a suitcase secretly and stuffed some of my clothes into a duffel bag. I wished that I could have said good-bye to my boss and some fellow workers, and gotten my three-hundred-dollar deposit back from Mrs. Chen. At dinner, both Nana and Lili teased Huong, saying she had begun working for me, as a cleaning lady. The two of us tried to appear normal, and I even cracked a few jokes.