Ha Jin: A Free Life

"It took several generations for her family to build the wealth. She also inherited lots of money from her husband."

"I should give up. The American dream is not for me." Danning's nostrils flared as his face scrunched.

"I thought I was the only pessimist." Nan chuckled. He realized that for a long time he hadn't been interested in making money, perhaps because he had seen so much wealth at this place that he had gradually lost heart, no longer possessed by the hunger that drives new immigrants to wrestle with fortune.

Dinner was simple: eggplant stuffed with minced pork, a salad of assorted vegetables, preserved eggs, braised shrimp, and dumplings filled with beef and napa cabbage. Danning wanted beer despite Nan's warning that he'd have a long drive back to Belmont. Nan took a six-pack of Budweiser out of the refrigerator and opened a bottle for his friend. They were seated at the dining table in the kitchen, which had a bay window that looked onto the front yard. In the flower bed the yellow mums and marigolds had all withered, and some tattered blossoms drooped, touching the ground. The trees dropped leaves now and again, white pine seeds helicoptering listlessly and husks of oak leaves zigzagging down, sinking through the opalescent light. A couple of tufted titmice were busy pecking at the sunflower seeds contained in a glass feeder hanging from a bough of the bulky linden at the center of the yard. Danning ate with a good appetite and kept saying to Nan that it was great to have one's family together. He seemed to respect Pingping a lot and frequently patted Taotao on the head. He spooned some mashed garlic onto his plate and asked Nan, "Have you decided what to do yet?"

"No, but I've been thinking of doing something that moneyed people can't do. You see how rich the Masefields are. It doesn't make sense for me to dream of getting rich." Nan turned to Pingping, who looked alarmed, a shadow dimming her face.

"What do you plan to do?" Danning put half a dumpling into his mouth, chewing with his lips closed.

"Probably I'll write. I want to be a writer."

"Writing articles for newspapers?"

"No, poetry."

"Wow, you're such an idealist, a dreamer! I take off my cap." "Don't be sarcastic. I'm just saying I might try to write some poems. "

" Still, I admire you for that, for being faithful to your own heart and following your own passion. To be honest, I don't like physics, but I have to finish the dissertation to get the damn degree."

"What would you do if you were free to choose?"

" Well, I would write novels, one after another. I know I could be a prolific writer, telling stories about our experiences in America."

" You would publish them in China?"

" Of course, where else can you have your readers if you write in Chinese?"

"I can't think about writing novels. I don't have that kind of long wind."

"What will you do for money? Poetry won't fetch a salary." " I always can work. "

Nan was reluctant to talk more about his plan since he hadn't made up his mind yet. His wife put in about him, "He's always rich in the heart."

"That makes him remarkable, doesn't it?" said Danning.

"I hope we just live a life similar to others' here, making some money and having our own home, so that every day will be the same as the previous one," she replied thoughtfully.

"Come now," Nan said to her. "I'll work hard to bring in money, you know that."

That quieted her. She got up to take a bowl of fruit out of the refrigerator. As they started to eat the dessert, Danning said, " Nan, have you heard anything from the Chinese consulate yet?"

" No, about what?"

"They've been investigating your involvement in the planned kidnap."

"Really? How do you know?" Pingping broke in.

"Vice Consul Hu asked me last week about Nan 's role in the case. I said I had no idea. It seemed they knew Nan had brought up the suggestion of seizing hostages, and he must be a target of their investigation."

Nan was so flabbergasted that he couldn't respond for a moment. Then he asked, "What are they going to do to me, do you know?"

"Don't be scared. They can't do anything to you here. But once you're back in China, that'll be different. So don't fall into their hands."

"How did they come to know about the plan?" "I don't have the foggiest idea. Somebody must have given you away."

"Yuming Wang or Manyou Zhou?"

"It can be any one of those involved, but there's no way to identify the informer. Anybody could turn you in to save his own ass." "You mean I've been singled out as a scapegoat?" "Right."

Nan turned to Pingping, who looked panic-stricken, her eyes flickering. She placed her hand on Taotao's head, stroking his hair unconsciously.

" What should I do?" Nan asked his friend.

"Relax. Don't say anything against the government in front of others, not even in your letters or on the phone when you call home. If those top leaders' children confront you, just say you made a rash remark and never thought others would take it seriously. It won't hurt if you apologize to them."

" No, never. "

"I know you won't."

When Danning was about to leave, Pingping thanked him for letting them know of the official investigation. Danning said, "I planned to call and tell you about it even if I couldn't come today." He grinned, his face a little lopsided. He had drunk three bottles of beer but wouldn't stay longer to let the alcohol dissolve some. He told Pingping he hadn't had a homemade dinner for two months. He was sorry about the troublesome information, but they shouldn't be scared. Nan should just be careful and avoid getting hotheaded again. Danning stepped into his rusty hatchback and drove away.

That night Pingping didn't go to bed until eleven-thirty, when Nan had to set off for the factory. They talked about their situation. Now it looked like Nan definitely couldn't return to China, and even in this country he'd have to keep a low profile. They'd be lucky if both of their families, especially their siblings, didn't suffer on Nan 's account.

Recently Nan had mailed his passport to the Chinese consulate in New York for renewal, so he was now afraid that the officials might create difficulties for him and put his papers on hold. He felt powerless whenever dealing with them. It was as if invisible hands still manipulated his life even though he lived far away from China.

At work that night, Nan wrote to his parents, telling them to take good care and that everything was fine with his family here. He mentioned: "I have enclosed a hair of mine. If you don't find it in the envelope, that means someone has tampered with the letter. Let me know if you see it." He wanted to ascertain whether his mail was monitored. If it was, there'd be no doubt that he'd been blacklisted. How he regretted having blurted out the crazy kidnap idea in the presence of more than a dozen people. Now it had boomeranged on him. The more he thought about his situation, the more convinced he was that any one of those who had heard him could have informed against him. No wonder so many of his friends and acquaintances had grown estranged from him lately. They were probably all desperate to clear themselves.

"WELL, I'm sorry to tell you we're moving," Don said to Nan. They were in his tiny office in the middle of the main workshop, with a glass wall on every side. A few workers had just punched in, drinking coffee and making noises with tools, but all the machines were still quiet.

"Zer whole factory?" Nan asked Don. "Yep."

"Where are you going?"

"We bought a place outside Fitchburg. If you want, you can come work for us there."

"Zat is hard. My son goes to school here." Nan turned silent and recalled Fitchburg, a town he had been to once. A year earlier he and Danning had gone to Keene, New Hampshire, to pick up two cheap computers assembled by a four-man company housed in a barn. On their way back they had stopped for lunch at Fitchburg, which had some lovely Victorian and colonial houses surrounded by woods. It was a long drive from Woodland, at least an hour.