Calls Across the Pacific (8 page)

A lump swelled in Nina's throat. She had been taught that premarital sex was wrong, but her body yearned for Bob's touch, and in her mind she kept thinking about what Bob had said. “Sex is pleasure that can be equally enjoyed by men and women.” She asked herself,
Do I enjoy being with Bob? What's wrong if I make love with him? But what if Dahai is still alive?

While she debated this with herself, Nina felt her mind grow heavy. She dreamed she was wandering on a riverbank and beneath the moonlight, the surface of the river looked silver white and smooth, floating quietly in front of her. In the distance, she could hear a familiar melody, which she recognized as the song “Moon River,” drifting over the water and coming toward her.
That's a beautiful song!

She sauntered along the bank and bent over the water. Her fingers touched the liquid, and she felt its lukewarm caress. A couple of yellow downy ducklings swam over to her but then turned around before she could touch them. She could not help wading into the stream. Eventually, the water came to her waist and then to her shoulders as she waded forward. Looking around, she did not see any ducklings but found herself naked.

She was anxious to get dressed, but she couldn't find her clothing. She crossed her arms to cover her breasts even though nobody was around, but then she relaxed. Peacefully, she swam in the Moon River, with her arms stretching out and her feet kicking through the smooth surface.

A familiar voice called out, “Nina!” She raised her head and saw a human figure on the river bank, but she couldn't tell if it was Dahai or Bob.

“Wait up!” she cried out.

Feeling a hand touch her forehead, she opened her eyes. “Are you all right?” asked Bob, kneeling on the floor by her bed.

“I had an odd dream,” she murmured. “Do you know the song ‘Moon River'?”

“You want to talk about a song in the middle of night?” he asked, staring at her flushing cheeks under the dim wall light, but he couldn't speak anymore since his mouth was soon covered by her warm lips.

Nina woke up, her head snuggling on Bob's chest.

He opened his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not really,” she hesitated. “I…”

“What?” he asked and kissed her cheek.

“I enjoyed it.”

“I didn't know you were a virgin. You're twenty-three years old. That was a bit shocking. With surprise in his voice, Bob asked, “He never made love to you?”

“No, I didn't want him to.”

“Did you love him?” Seeing her nod, he sighed. “How strange! When I love a woman I make love to her.” His hands fondled her breasts.

“Have you made love to more than one girl?” she asked in a timid voice, trying to understand his way of loving.

“Yes, to all of my girlfriends. They enjoyed it, too.” He noticed a wry smile on her face and felt her withdrawing from him. “Don't get me wrong. I mean at different times. Now, I will only make love to you. I don't have any other women.”

“Understood,” Nina said, holding his face to look into his eyes, which appeared dark blue in the faint light. “I'm not sure if I agree completely, but I'm learning to enjoy this moment with you.”

“That's my girl. Life's short. Don't think too much. Otherwise, your head will explode.” He pulled her hair playfully.

“Remember, I'm going to university in September.”

“Sure I do. It's the University of Southern Maine, right?”

Nina nodded. “You're okay with that?” She chose a university in a small city knowing that Bob disliked big cities.

“
Esta es la vida
,” he said. “This is life.” As he held Nina close, the sweet voice of Holly Golightly from
Breakfast at Tiffany's
singing “Moon River” echoed in his mind.

“Wherever you're going, I'm going your way
.” Nina listened to Bob whistle the melody in the early morning after that unexpected rainstorm.

8.
THE FENIAN CYCLE

O
NE SATURDAY AFTERNOON
at the end of August 1972, Nina cooked Chinese food for her host family to show her gratitude. Amazed by the different foods displayed on the table, Bruce said he loved the steamed Chinese-style ravioli stuffed with minced beef and celery. Eileen enjoyed the stir-fried sweet-and-sour cabbage. Although the egg and tomato soup was foreign, the couple also ate it with interest. Since Nina couldn't find certain ingredients, such as star anise and ginger, she felt sorry that her dishes were not authentically Chinese.

The following day, Bob came over to pick Nina up and take her and her belongings to Portland. About an hour later, they arrived at the University of Southern Maine. The energetic young faces on campus made Nina regret her youth spent in the chaos of the Cultural Revolution. Some student volunteers helped move Nina's luggage to her two-bedroom suite, which she shared with another freshman named Mabel. After helping unpack Nina's suitcases and boxes, Bob stayed for the evening.

The dormitory visiting hours were over at eleven-thirty p.m., so Nina kissed him goodbye. “Drive carefully. Watch for deer along the road. It's almost the season.”

“Yes, Mother,” Bob smirked. When he looked at his watch, he sighed. “Time goes too fast when we're together.”

Nina saw Bob off to the door. When she turned back, Mabel made a face at her in the living room. “If he were my boyfriend, I would have asked him to stay another day.”

“I don't have as much time as you do,” answered Nina. “I have a lot of catching up to do! You're still young and I'm jealous of your age.”

Sweetly, Mabel grinned. “I bet you are.”

Nina participated in student orientation but didn't join in on the other activities. Instead, she spent most of the week reading in the library.

Her first class, American History, began on a Monday evening. A binder in hand, Nina left the dorm hastily and went straight to the next building. On the second floor, she hurried past the first door on the left and noticed the number was 201. A crowd of students entered the third door on the left. She was sure that was 203. After stepping inside, she found an available seat, and sat down quietly. A young professor spoke enthusiastically, his hand occasionally moving in the air. Instead of using the chair, he leaned against the front of his desk, his voice was cheerful, and his tone was humorous. Laughter rose from the audience. Bob's face appeared in Nina's mind, sometimes smiling and sometimes frowning. She shook the image away and tried to listen attentively. The professor was narrating an Irish legend from the third century, which confused her; why, if this was American History, did she need to know that particular myth?

At break, she hastened to the desk and talked to the professor. “Sorry to bother you. I'm confused about the ‘Fenian Cycle.' How is this Irish mythology related to a secret revolutionary organization in the United States in the sixteenth century?”

The professor's gaze fell on this new face, and he answered, “You know some details about modern American history.” He clasped his hands. “You also have an excellent imagination. The legend has nothing to do with the Fenian Movement, though the word ‘Fenian' was derived from the saga.”

“But,” Nina asked with hesitation, “why do we have to learn the legend?”

“My answer is simple,” the professor responded, taking a tissue from a box to clean his glasses. “Because this course is on Irish Culture. Understood?”

At that moment, Nina realized the blunder she had made. “I'm sorry. I'm in the wrong classroom!” Turning around, Nina fled like a defeated warrior without hearing the professor's question: “Which course are you supposed to take?”

Nina got a part-time job working two hours an evening as a safety escort. Together with a partner, her job was to accompany individual students from their classrooms or computer labs or library to a bus stop near the campus at night. She was glad she would have some income.

One night after work, Nina wearily dragged herself to her apartment. She passed by a multi-purpose hall, and heard a familiar piano melody, which brought back a fond memory. It was “Moscow Nights,” the Soviet song composed by Vasily Solovyov-Sedoi with lyrics by Mikhail Matusovsky, which had been popular among Chinese youth before the Cultural Revolution and was subsequently banned, as all foreign songs had been. Some, behind the scenes, had sung it still. She looked into the room and saw a woman playing the piano. The sweet music drifted along while her fingers ran restlessly over the keys. Nina tiptoed in and stood beside the piano. She couldn't help humming along in Russian:

Stillness in the grove, not a rustling sound,

Softly shines the moon clear and bright.

Dear, if you could know how I treasure so

The most beautiful Moscow night.

As the player finished, she turned and looked at Nina with surprise. “How do you know this song?”

“How do you do, comrade?” Nina answered in Russian.

“What?” the woman gaped at her, a puzzled look on her face. “A Russian commie?”

“No,” answered Nina. “Are you?”

“No. My grandpa was a White Russian. He fled the communists in the early 1920s.”

“I fled the Chinese Communists.” Nina wondered how the White Russian, loyal to the Tsar and anti-communists, had escaped from the Soviet Union when the Red Army won the civil war in the Russian Revolution of 1917. “Did you learn the song from your grandfather?”

“No,” the woman answered. “He hated the Bolsheviks. I learned the song at school. I love it since it's so romantic.”

“I learned Russian at middle school.” Nina remembered that every student had been encouraged to learn the language. “I even had a Russian pen pal.”

“Really? How interesting,” the woman said. “Did you learn this song from your pen pal?”

“I learned it from school, too. In the 1950s, China and Russia were brotherly countries. Everybody, young or old, learned Russian songs and watched Russian movies. We started learning the Russian language in elementary school.” She sighed at the memory that the relationship between the two countries had soured by the 1960s.

“Were you a communist? Why did you flee China? Why did the two countries break up?”

“I wasn't a communist. I fled because my parents were persecuted. Russia and China became enemies for political reasons, I think,” answered Nina as she looked at her watch. “I've got to go. I have an early class tomorrow.”

“Nice meeting you,” said the woman.

After the chance encounter with the piano player, the song, “Moscow Nights,” echoed in Nina's head for several days.

A thought dawned on her. She decided to explore the relationship between China and the Soviet Union. The topic would be a good one for her group project in her International Relations course.

In the group meeting, the students shared their research results and ideas with one another. One topic was about the roles of the Americans and Soviets during the Korean War; another was about the American government imposing an arms embargo on Cuba; and yet other topics focused on the cultural similarities and close military alliance between Britain and the United States.

Nina focused on the period spanning from the Sino-Soviet Treaty of Friendship, Alliance and Mutual Assistance to the Sino-Soviet split in 1956, when the relationship between China and the Soviet Union became tense. The group discussion enhanced each student's interest in the course, and Nina benefited from this kind of learning process. Finally, one student from the group was chosen to present the group project to the class and they called their presentation, “Friends or Enemies in the Relationship between Countries.”

Nina wrote a letter to Eileen and Bruce before Thanksgiving Day:

Nov. 19, 1972

Dear Eileen and Bruce,

How are you? I'm thinking of you. I still remember last year's Thanksgiving dinner with you. This year, I will work on my assignments and count my blessings at the same time. I've been busy studying and also working part-time, but I've been enjoying my student life so far.

I feel grateful for knowing you and for your support. Without your generous and kind help, my dream wouldn't have come true.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Nina

Then Christmas was around the corner; Nina bought a crystal angel figurine for Eileen and a heating pad for Bruce to help with his gout. From the library, she had borrowed books and periodicals to read over the holiday as she only planned to visit Eileen and Bruce as well as Bob in Brunswick for a brief time. The rest of the time she wanted to use for her studies. Bob came to campus to pick her up on Christmas Eve. He insisted that after visiting his parents for dinner, she stay at his place for the rest of the winter break. Unable to resist, Nina agreed with Bob, and with his help, she did laundry and cleaned up her apartment before leaving for the holiday.

By the time they arrived at his parents' house, Bob's brother and sister and their spouses had been there waiting in anticipation to meet Nina. Bob's father hugged his youngest son with a wide smile. “Your girlfriend is lovely,” he said, shaking Nina's hand warmly.

Bob's sister hugged Nina. “I hope my kid brother can learn something from you.”

After the joyful evening with Bob's family, Nina and Bob left the house. He drove past many houses decorated with colourful lights. Shining reindeer and a smiling Santa Claus on the lawn in front of Bob's apartment building gave Nina a warm feeling of homecoming.

The inside of Bob's apartment provided Nina with a glimpse of Bob's bachelor life-style. A heap of clothing lay in the middle of the living room floor, a pile of takeout boxes were stacked on a kitchen chair, and several unwashed plates were on the table. “Since I had to leave at eight in the morning, I didn't have time to clean up,” explained Bob. “You can take a shower and I'll tidy up.”

“Let me help you.”

“No,” he said, his hand steering Nina toward the bathroom. “Go.”

The warm water from the showerhead and pleasant scent of Irish Spring soap washed away Nina's stress and she felt her entire body relax. Quietly the door slid open, and Bob stepped in, his firm arms wrapping her from her back. His warm mouth pressed on her nape and then searched for her lips. She turned around and clung to his muscular body. Passionately, they kissed, and their bodies joined. Her fatigue slipped away.

Bob carried her to the bed, and they sank into each other's arms. “Aren't you tired?” Nina asked in a breathless voice. The red-and-green Christmas lights that blinked through the window's glass made her feel dreamy.

“Haven't touched you for more than … hmmm, I should say forty days exactly.” Bob grinned. “You have a gorgeous body that drives me wild.”

“You really surprised me,” said Nina, her hands on his waist.

“Which part?” Bob muttered, his lips moving from breast to breast.

“In the shower,” she whispered, curling herself up.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked, pulling her closer. He felt himself tighten again.

“Couldn't you tell?” She laid her head on his chest. “Good night.”

The following day, Nina went to see her host family and visited with them the whole day. As soon as she returned, she helped Bob with chores. He cooked a simple dinner and she cleared the table after eating. “We make a wonderful partnership just like when we worked at the restaurant,” she said, drying the dishes with Bob. When Nina remembered Bob and Kent horsing around in the kitchen, she chuckled. “At that time, I saw you as a funny man.”

“But now you know me as part of you deep inside, don't you?” he teased back, tilting his head at her with a big smile.

Nina felt guilty about being away from Bob for the most of the day, so she didn't open any of her books that evening. Instead, she snuggled with Bob on the couch, and they watched
TV.

For the rest of the week, Bob had to work at Franklin's Fish and Chips as usual. Nina busied herself with studies, without knowing what time the sun rose and set. She didn't even notice when the snow started or when it stopped. Her world was occupied with historical events and political figures from different countries.

One night, after Bob came home from work, Nina walked to him sluggishly and gave him a hug. “We're like an old couple now.”

“What do you mean?” Bob asked.

“We see each other every day and do the same, everyday things.”

“Look,” he said, taking out a videotape from his jacket pocket. “Let's try something new.” It was an erotic film that aroused them both. They tumbled into bed giggling and practising making love in different positions.

Nina enjoyed being with Bob; he was a great lover and a caring man. But he was not always patient when she was busy studying.

Sometimes, Bob slouched on the couch, waiting for Nina to finish with her studies. He gazed at her back and wondered how those books could keep her so engrossed for hours, so that she barely noticed him. He got up slowly and approached her, curious about the book she was taking notes from. He stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. “Hey there, tell me about the book you're reading.”