Tie Ning - The Bathing Women

2

They kissed again, as if it were the continuation of their kisses on the bank of the San Antonio River. They kissed very deeply, so deeply that both could hardly contain themselves. With his height and strength, Mike took control and steered Tiao towards the bed, and Tiao felt dizzy and staggered, which aroused Mike more. They stumbled onto the bed and he kept whispering in her ear, “My little xiruan, my little xiruan …”

All of a sudden, Tiao strangely became not so xiruan. She stiffened, rose from the bed, and stood up resolutely. Surprising herself with her own strength, she grabbed Mike and shoved him in the direction of the door. She kissed him passionately but also forced him to leave with equal determination. She got him to the door, reached out a hand to open it, and gently pushed him out. Then she locked the door.

Feeling a bit confused, she leaned against the door and listened. She knew that Mike was still there, and she had a moment of regret. She had only a vague understanding of why she’d rejected him. She heard Mike knocking on the door gently, apparently not wanting to wake his parents but persisting. Trying to ignore him, she held her breath and pretended she’d gone to bed. Then a note slipped through the space under the door. She picked up the note and, holding it against the door, read the big Chinese characters: “I love you. Please let me tell you in person!”

This was something she was afraid to hear because she didn’t know what to say. When she read these words, so clearly set down, she suddenly understood that the one she loved was not Mike. She loved Chen Zai. It was the kind of love that ran deep and long in her and couldn’t be torn out. Maybe when she’d been discarded by Fang Jing, left on the bench at the waiting room, when she was crying her heart out in front of Chen Zai, she had already fallen in love with him; when Chen Zai was about to get married later and asked her opinion, she was in love with him. But never had her love and yearning been like it was now, so certain and turbulent, so tender and strong. She felt happy and sad at once because of this abrupt realization of love, which happened when she was in someone else’s country and room, when someone else was revealing his love to her. She felt sorry for Mike because it was Mike who had so forcefully awoken her deep love for Chen Zai. She wasn’t that saintly and noble. What had she really wanted to achieve by being with Mike? Self-indulgence and pleasure led her to him. Self-indulgence and pleasure, which made her feel ashamed. She got up, took a pen and a piece of paper, and wrote, “It’s too late. Please go back and sleep.”

She sent the note through the space under the door and got another from him: “I love you. Please let me in.” She wrote back, “Don’t talk nonsense. Please leave.”

Through the gap under the door they played a note-passing game. “My little xiruan, I can’t stand it anymore. Please open the door for me.”

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

“You can. I know you want me, too.”

“It’s not real.”

“It is real. I’m going to break in.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m tired.”

“You’re not tired. I’m coming in unless you tell me you don’t love me.”

“All right. I don’t love you. I’m very sorry.”

“I want you to open the door and tell me in person.” After slipping this last note in, he started to pound the door loudly. Finally she opened the door for him. He held her and kissed her desperately. She also kissed him but started to cry. Then he let her go and said, “I’m sorry. Please forgive my rudeness.”

She shook her head and said, “I don’t want your apology. It’s just — you don’t understand. You don’t understand.” Holding his hand, she sat at the edge of the bed. She looked into his clear green eyes, in which she imagined she must appear like those women on that antique fan that his family treasured, mysterious and exotic. What did he know about her? Nothing — and she knew nothing about him. Sooner or later, he would find out that it was not love, as she already knew right now.

When they kissed again, she was even more certain. Kissing him, she cried, imagining him as Chen Zai, whom she had never kissed. She loved him and missed home very much, missed all the memories she and Chen Zai had shared — the pitch-black windy night long, long ago, when she stood on the street and pounded the postbox helplessly, how Chen Zai asked her, “Child, what’s the matter?”

Mike, you don’t understand. How can you understand? You’ll never be able to understand anything about me.

She held Mike’s hand and her heart had completely quieted down. Then, out of nowhere, she made a random suggestion. “Let each of us eat an apple.”

She picked up two apples from the fruit tray and handed Mike one. With a crunch, she bit into hers first.

Mike stared at Tiao, who was crunching on the apple, and said, “I believe now that you don’t love me, but I still love you — I’ll keep it to myself from now on, though. I’m not as naïve as you imagine. I don’t just see you as someone like the beautiful girl on the fan. You’re an ageless woman, someone who can be young and old at once. Sometimes you’re like a person who has gone through it all, with that knowing expression in your eyes that seems to see life and the world through a hundred years of history; sometimes you’re like a baby, with such clear eyes, and that pure down on your face. Your face drew me to you. You never knew how much your face and your expression attracted me. I lied to be with you, saying that I would happen to be at home on vacation when you were in the States. The fact is I didn’t have any vacation. I asked for leave from the school and came back especially for you. Please believe that my attitude, my … my …” He started to lose control of the tones — when he spoke too much Chinese, his accent began to drift. With a bit of Shandong mixed with a little Shanxi, he continued in these strange tones: “My … my …”

After a while his talk trailed off, and with the apple in his hand, he fell asleep. Overcome by exhaustion, drowsiness, and a deep sense of defeat, he slumped down midsentence, his head falling onto Tiao’s legs. She liked pillowing his head on her legs. As she looked down at this young head fast asleep on her legs — the pink ear which looked especially innocent because of his age — her heart filled with deep gratitude. It was Mike who had offered her, so freely, the untainted love she’d never had; it was Mike who inspired her to feel confident about her life and youth, and Mike who spurred her to take action. It was his love that awakened her strong love for Chen Zai.

Oh, Mike — so sound asleep — I’ll be grateful to you all my life for everything you have done and for my not loving you.

3

Beijing Airport was always so crowded, and the expressions on the custom officials’ faces so cold. The coffee was always lukewarm, the bathroom tissues dark, and the pay phone receivers smelly. Tiao couldn’t wait to call Chen Zai before she got out of the airport. She couldn’t wait to tell him that she had returned from the States and would see him soon. When she heard his calm, deep voice on the phone, she knew that she had truly come home. The only thing she’d been thinking about all the way was that as soon as she got off the aeroplane, she could hear his voice. Now that she heard it, even the smell of the phone seemed less distasteful.

She left the airport. The air in Beijing was not very good; the sky was grey, and the cars had a light coating of dust. Everything was somewhat grimy and messy, but still it felt dirty and dear.

Dirty and dear.

She returned to Fuan, and Chen Zai phoned and asked to come to see her at her house. She didn’t let him. Usually he would go to her place, and when he was there she would complain to him about those bad patches she hit, how she was unhappy, how she failed to get elected CEO of the Publishing House, how Fan gave her a hard time, how someone who didn’t even remotely know how to write fiction got a book published through the use of powerful connections … She never treated him like a guest; he could sit wherever he liked. When he was thirsty, he’d pour himself some water, and when he was hungry, he took food out of the refrigerator himself. Once, she remembered discussing a haircut with him; she wanted to cut her shoulder-length hair short. He said, “I think you’d better not. You look pretty good this way.”