Ha Jin - A Free Life

Mr. Shang switched to Mandarin and asked Nan with a scratchy accent, "You want them to have your restaurant and home too?" His good eye glanced sideways at the Mitchells sitting on a sofa near his desk while his mouth went awry, revealing a gold-capped tooth. Dave was gazing at the attorney, his top lip twitching, as if he was irritated by being excluded.

"Yes. If they take care of our son, they should inherit everything we have," said Nan.

Mr. Shang reverted to English. "I understand. Just double-check."

"They're good couple," Pingping put in. "We know them long time. They're our friend."

"I'm not sure you've known them long enough." Mr. Shang wagged his head.

"We don't have any family or relative in America," Nan explained.

"You don't have a Chinese friend you can trust your boy to?" "Not really."

"How sad! You're truly a marginal man. It seems to me that your white friends may not be suitable for your son. Everybody can tell he's adopted by them, not their own."

"We don't mind that."

"All right, all right, I'll do what you want. I just meant to make sure you were fully aware of all the consequences." Mr. Shang turned away to prepare the agreement on a computer below a small window. He had already written a draft and was typing it out. The gray screen of the monitor was flickering as he punched away at the keyboard. From time to time he combed his thin hair with his slim fingers. Beside the computer stood a can of Sprite, which he lifted to his mouth time and again. The Wus were seated on the sofa across from the Mitchells. Nan felt embarrassed that the lawyer had spoken Chinese with them just now, so he explained in a low voice to their friends what they had talked about. He said that Mr. Shang thought people would easily tell that Taotao was an adopted child if he ended up in Janet and Dave's care, but Nan and Pingping had told the lawyer they wouldn't mind that because the Mitchells were their friends and very fond of their son.

As the conversation went on, the four of them talked about where Taotao should go to college when he grew up. "MIT is the best," Dave claimed firmly.

Nan didn't argue, but he'd prefer his son to have a liberal arts education.

From college they switched to the topic of life insurance, which Nan and Pingping didn't know how to buy. Neither did they see why they should get it. What was the point in having a lot of money if one of them died? Money, if you couldn't enjoy spending it, wouldn't buy you happiness. Unlike them, Janet had bought some insurance on Dave.

Mr. Shang returned to his desk, holding two printed sheets. He handed the couples each a copy, saying, "You should all read this." Nan looked through the paper, which stated:

We, Nan Wu and Pingping Liu, of 568 Marsh Drive, Lilburn, Gwinnett County, Georgia, hereby agree to let Janet and David Mitchell, of 52 Breezewood Circle, Lilburn, Gwinnett County, Georgia, be our son Taotao Wu's legal guardians if we both shall die before Taotao Wu reaches the age of eighteen. We nominate Janet and David Mitchell to be our Executor and Executrix. We direct them to pay our legal debts, funeral expenses, and the expenses of administering our estate after our decease and to charge said expenses to the residue. We give Janet and David Mitchell all the rest and remainder of our estate, both real and personal, of whatever name, kind and nature, provided they remain a married couple. The Mitchells shall be obligated to raise Taotao Wu with love and care and to finance his college education.

This agreement is composed in the presence of both parties and cosigned by both willingly. It shall not take effect unless the decease of Nan Wu and Pingping Liu occurs before Taotao Wu is eighteen.

"It's pretty good," Nan said, then handed it to Pingping. Meanwhile, the Mitchells were reading their copy too. Both couples agreed about the wording, so they all signed on the agreement in the presence of two young women Mr. Shang had called in from the store as witnesses.

With some deliberation the attorney unscrewed the cap of his chunky fountain pen and with a flourish wrote out his name on all the three copies, then notarized them. He said to Nan, "Eighty dollars."

Nan gave him four twenties. Mr. Shang handed a page to the Mitchells and another to the Wus, and kept one for his records. "Well, I hope nobody will ever use this piece of paper," he said, and screwed up his good eye.

"We do too," Dave said, then laughed, tapping his balding crown with his fingertips. His wife and the Wus all smiled.

Once they stepped out of the office, Janet asked Pingping, "Why is the procedure so simple?"

"What you mean?"

"If you went to an American attorney, he'd spend hours going through many things with you and would charge you hundreds of dollars."

"That's why I said we go to Mr. Shang. He isn't good man, but he always make things simple for people and give what you want."

Nan put in, "Actually, he's an American lawyer and graduated from a law school in L.A. But he often does business in zer Chinese way. Besides, he doesn't charge a lot."

"Well," Janet said, "he certainly doesn't write like an attorney- I mean, his English isn't full of gobbledygook, like lots of 'thereofs' or 'theretos.' "

"He has to make zer language simple enough for his Chinese cah-stomers to understand."

"Are lawyers in China like him?"

Pingping answered, "Before we come to America, we never use lawyer. I never knew lawyer in my life." "True, me eizer," Nan chimed in. "You mean, people don't sue each other?"

"Very rarely they went to court," Nan said. "Zer Party leaders, awf-ficials, and street committees controlled your life, so you didn't need a lawyer."

"How about now? Are things the same?" Dave piped up. "I heard there are some lawyers, but they can't reelly be independent of politics. Zer law often changes."

Dave observed thoughtfully, "I'm amazed that Mr. Shang doesn't even use a secretary."

"He has one, but she works only part-time," Nan said.

After their visit to the attorney, Janet and Pingping grew closer, though Dave came to the Gold Wok less often, having to put in more hours at work. The Mitchells bought Taotao a joystick to go with his computer, which enabled him to play more games. Nan felt rather relieved, certain that Taotao would be happy and safe with Dave and Janet if Pingping and he both died.

NAN honestly thought Dick was a homosexual, but one evening in mid-January his friend came with a young blonde who looked like a graduate student. Dick introduced her to Nan and Pingping, saying, "This is Eleanor."

The woman, wearing jeans, was tall and quite masculine, with a long waist. In a southern drawl she said to Nan, "Dick talks a lot about you. He said you're a fabulous chef." She smiled, the beauty mark above the corner of her mouth moving sideways.

"Welcahm." Nan was glad that his friend had mentioned him that way.

After they sat down, Tammie came over and plunked a stainless-steel teapot on the table. "What do you want to order?" she asked in a disgruntled voice. Pingping took alarm and glanced at her from the counter.

"How are you doing today?" Dick grinned, then pointed at Eleanor while saying in his toneless Mandarin, "She's my girlfriend."

"Do you want to order now?" Tammie asked without raising her eyes.

Though discomfited by the waitress's sudden temper, Dick turned to Eleanor. "What would you like?" "How about moo shu?" "It's great, but it'll take a long time to make." "Shoot, I have to be at the Manleys' at eight." "Then let's have something else."

"You said they served shark here. Why isn't it on the menu?" " Nan cooks it only for friends."

"Can we have that? I've eaten shark only once in my entire life." "Tammie, do you know if Nan can make that for us?" "I'm not sure."