Chenxi and the Foreigner (6 page)

When they reached the corner of Anna's street, she called out to Chenxi from behind, ‘You will come in for a drink?'

Chenxi slowed as they approached her gate and pulled up on the opposite side of the road.

Anna slid off the bike, waiting for his reply.

‘No thank you,' he said, glancing over at the gatekeeper.

Anna was taken aback. Was he intentionally contrary? ‘Come on! You've just ridden all this way. Come upstairs and sit down for a while. You'd be crazy to ride all that way back in this heat. Just come in for a drink?'

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the gatekeeper peering at the pair of them.

‘No, thank you. I must go home,' Chenxi said, swinging his leg back over his bike. ‘I see you tomorrow at school.' Bewildered, Anna watched him ride down the street. She watched him until he turned the corner and she couldn't see him any more.

8

Mr White knew everyone at the Shanghai Hilton. Here he seemed important and respected. The Italian restaurant had reserved his regular table and the manager asked about the special lady accompanying him that night. He winked at Anna, letting her in on the joke, but Anna wondered how many ladies had sat with her father at his regular table since he had been in China. He wasn't living with her mother any more, Anna reminded herself; her parents were separated in all but the final decision. She supposed that made him a free man. But the idea of her father dating would take some getting used to.

‘Don't you ever eat Chinese food?' Anna asked her father as they sat down. She moved the vase of red roses so she could see his face. A Chinese waiter hovered behind them pouring wine and flipping serviettes.

‘Oh yes, sometimes. But you know, darling, after living in China for three years you get a bit sick of it. Anyway, it's lovely having you here to stay. We haven't seen each other much yet, have we? Haven't really had much of a chance to talk.'

Anna gulped down a mouthful of red wine. She knew the conversation had to happen.

‘So, have you decided what course you are going to do next year? Your university application forms must be due in soon, aren't they?'

The waiter presented them with menus and announced the specialities of the house. His accent was American, like that of a lot of young Chinese. They picked it up from CNN and Voice of America. Anna waited until he had gone.

‘Well, I'm still quite keen on doing art, Dad,' she began. Her first day at the college had reignited her passion.

Mr White took a slow sip of wine and cleared his throat. ‘That's fine, darling,' he said. ‘You can keep up with your painting on the weekends. But what are you going to study?'

‘There are art courses I can do full time...'

Mr White cut in before Anna could go on, ‘Look, darling. You've already wasted one year. I'm not having you waste another.'

‘But it's the only thing I really like to do.' Anna's voice came out as a squeak.

Mr White rested his elbows on the crisp white tablecloth and leaned towards her before speaking. ‘I know you think now that it would be a lot of fun to be an artist,'—he made it sound like a dirty word—‘but come on, be honest darling, you can't make money from art. How about doing an economics course and you can use your experience to do business with China?'

Anna hated the way he called her darling when he was angry. Why couldn't they be direct with each other? Her whole family had developed a phobia of saying anything to upset anyone, even at the price of honesty. It had cost her parents their marriage. Ever since Anna and her sisters were little it had been drummed into them: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

‘I can't think of anything I'd like to do less!' she snapped, surprised at herself.

‘Look, Anna, be realistic, we can't all do what we'd like to do!'

‘Can't we?'

‘No, of course not! Life is about compromise.'

Anna felt edgy. She took another sip of red wine. She noticed through the wineglass how the candlelight made flickering red pools on the tablecloth. ‘Do you like what you're doing?'

Her father paused before he answered. ‘Yes, I suppose I do. You learn to like what you're doing. I'm earning good money now. I came to China with nothing but a suitcase. I've built up my own business here in only three years. I own two apartments, I've put you girls through private schools and I expect to earn enough here in China to retire.

‘I know it might all seem very confusing for you at the moment, darling, that's why you should take my advice. The trouble with your generation is they don't know where they are going. Kids your age are lost. They have too many choices. When I left school, there were only two options. You went to university or you got a job...'

Anna's mind began to wander. She had heard this lecture before. She thought about beautiful Chenxi and his magnificent painting. How was it that two people who grew up on opposite ends of the earth could have exactly the same vision? After what she had seen this afternoon it was impossible that they could not be together. She was sure he was the reason she came to China: everything happened for a reason.

Their waiter approached and Mr White ordered quickly so he could continue, but Anna interrupted him before he could go on. ‘What do you think of Chenxi?' she dared.

Mr White frowned. ‘I beg your pardon?'

‘You know. The Chinese guy from my college.'

‘Have you been listening to me, Anna?' He stopped and eyed his daughter. ‘You don't have a crush on him, do you?'

‘Maybe...' She twiddled her fork.

‘Oh, darling. You've only been here three days. You haven't been here long enough to understand.'

‘Understand what?'

‘Look, love.' His voice softened. ‘Chenksy seems like a very nice boy and I can certainly see how you're attracted to him, but just be careful.'

‘Dad!' Anna spluttered. ‘You're so patronising! I know all about contraception and stuff like that, if that's what you mean? I'm not a virgin.'

‘That's not what I mean. Just be careful about what you get into. I know it sounds harsh, love, but a Chinese boy would do anything to go out with an Australian girl. You're probably lonely, but when I take you on Friday night to drinks at the consulate you'll meet some people you like. There are usually a few foreign students from the university just up the road from your art college. I've met a nice French boy who comes regularly. He's here studying Mandarin.'

Anna stared at him. It struck her then that, despite living in China for three years, her father had no Chinese friends. He employed plenty of them: maids, drivers, even fellow engineers, but he didn't mix with them outside of work. Were all expatriates like that? She decided that in future she would keep her thoughts on Chenxi to herself.

In silence, Anna and her father ate their imported Italian meal and drank their imported red wine, the street sounds of Shanghai muffled by the altitude and the double-glazing of the top floor restaurant.

Far below, along Zhong Shan Lu and past the street market, was the Shanghai College of Fine Arts. And, if you paused to look through the high iron gates, you might see a single bulb burning in the classroom on the second floor, where, having cooked for his mother, and after tucking the exhausted woman into bed, Chenxi sat meditating on his painting. A new painting he had just begun that evening. A painting of a girl.

On the other side of Shanghai, the subject of Chenxi's new painting sat on her bed in the air-conditioned apartment that overlooked Fuxing Park. She took out her journal to gather her thoughts.

9

Next morning Anna arrived late at college, hot and flustered, but proud she had negotiated her new pink bike in the traffic.

The students were already at work, copying onto silk, and all of them looked up as she walked in, except Chenxi. Teacher Dai nodded and patted Anna's desk. Had he thought she wouldn't come back? The moon-faced boy beamed and slipped a note into Anna's hand as she walked past. She shoved it in her pocket.

Teacher Dai prodded Chenxi, who got up, making a performance of rinsing his brush and twisting the bristles into a fine point before ambling over to translate for Anna. She grinned at him and he returned a token smile.

‘Teacher Dai say you can begin try bamboo today.'

‘Bamboo?' said Anna.

‘Bamboo.'

Anna stared at the newspaper laid out on her desk. Was she not considered good enough to begin on rice paper?

Teacher Dai was looking back and forth between them, as if following a tennis match. When he saw Chenxi had finished translating, he nodded and smiled and took one of Anna's sheep-hair brushes from the bundle. He dipped it into a cup of warm water to soak out the protective glue and set about making ink for Anna.

Anna watched, fascinated, and Chenxi stood behind, translating whenever needed. Dai Laoshi rubbed the ink stick around and around the flat stone in a little water. Ink gradually formed from the powder dissolving into the liquid. He rubbed the stick almost meditatively, in rhythmic circles, then let Anna try.

Anna lost herself in the rhythm of the rubbing: what a calm beginning to a day's painting.

Once the ink was made and the brush soaked, Dai Laoshi dipped the tip of the bristles into the ink, instructing Anna not to have too much or too little. Then, with his arm curved loosely in front of him, the brush vertical, he let the tip down onto the newspaper, pushing the brush out in front of him.

‘It important you paint with all your
chi
…your energy…' Chenxi translated, ‘not just you arm.
Chi
come from you stomach, run through you arm, through point of you brush. If you paint with
chi
you have good strong brush stoke.'

Dai Laoshi lifted his brush, then pressed it down to form
another stroke above the fi rst. He looked at Anna to check
that she was watching. Then he continued painting the same
strokes until he reached the top of the newspaper.

‘The stalk of bamboo,' Chenxi announced.

With deft strokes, Dai Laoshi then painted the branches
and the leaves of the bamboo, fanning out in orderly
bunches of fi ve. It looked easy. Deceptively so, as Anna
discovered with her wobbly fi rst attempt.

Chenxi and Dai Laoshi chuckled at the foreigner's
bumbled effort, and Chenxi translated to Anna that she was
to practise painting bamboos on newspaper at least until the
end of the week.

‘To the end of the week?' Anna frowned. She would
rather be working on silk like the others.

Chenxi looked stern. ‘At least until end of week!'

Anna turned and began to paint another stalk of
bamboo.

After her second hour of painting bamboos, with little
improvement, she grew restless and gazed out the window.
From where she sat she could see over to the bike shed where
her bike shone out of the rusty tangle like an unwrapped
lolly. On the other side of the bike shed was another dull
cement college building as formidable as a prison block,
where row upon row of black heads were bent studiously
over their work. She stretched and turned back to her class.

The moon-faced boy was looking at her and Anna remembered the note he had thrust in her hand. She took it out of her pocket and unfolded it. On the paper was a cartoon drawing of two lovebirds, and underneath he had written: Hello! My name is Disco. Will you be my girlfriend?

Anna giggled at the crazy name Moon-Face had chosen for himself. When she looked up he was grinning at her, his yellow teeth gleaming. She smiled and shook her head and Disco pulled an exaggerated grimace. Anna settled down to bamboo painting again, but felt her admirer watching.

At eleven twenty-five, the students had already packed up and at eleven-thirty most of them were out the door, caught up in the lunchtime mania. Disco straggled behind, lighting a cigarette and talking to Chenxi. Chenxi strolled over to Anna, with Lao Li and Disco close behind, giggling and nudging each other like ten-year-olds.

Anna stood with her hands on her hips, watching their silliness to stop like a long-suffering primary school teacher. Chenxi cocked his head, trying to suppress a smirk. ‘Ding Yue want to know why you not want to be his girlfriend?'

Anna rolled her eyes. ‘Ask Ding Yue why he calls himself Disco.'

Chenxi translated Ding Yue's earnest response, his lips twisting in mirth. ‘He say he love disco and karaoke, and if you his girlfriend he take you to disco and karaoke bar his uncle own.'

Lao Li shrieked with laughter.

‘Well tell Disco Ding Yue,' said Anna, ‘that's it's fortunate I already have a boyfriend, because I hate disco and karaoke!'

Chenxi translated once again. Lao Li was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. Ding Yue clutched at his heart, pretending to be wounded, and dragged himself out of the classroom, howling all the way.

Anna turned to wash out her brushes, but Chenxi said, ‘Why you not want be girlfriend with Ding Yue, eh? His family own lot of factories. He make very good husband. Is because he Chinese?'

He watched for Anna's reaction.

Anna looked away and finished washing. ‘Of course not! I told you already! It's because I already love someone, OK? Are you coming for lunch, or what?'

She swung her bag over her shoulder and headed out of the room. Chenxi and Lao Li followed, Lao Li still hooting like a crazy animal.

This time at the noodle shop Anna was so hungry she decided to take the risk. She couldn't go to the Hilton for a hamburger every time she needed something to eat, and she felt like disobeying her father.

The three of them sat at a grimy table and the owner brought three bowls of soup noodles. Anna wiped her pair of chopsticks under the table on a clean tissue and, when nobody was looking, picked off the dried meat and flicked it to the floor, where it curled up into the dust. All that was left was a sprig of coriander, the noodles and the soup. She hesitated for a minute, remembering her father's warning, but then told herself that she would rather be sick from tasting local food than return home healthy after only eating imported hamburgers.