Toward the North Read online

  With a lively step, Wenwen walked up to her mother. A warm smile covered her face, and she gently said, “Thank you, Mom.” As she spoke, she pulled her mother into her arms and sank her head heavily into her mother’s shoulder.

  Her daughter used such strength that she almost knocked Jiang Xue off her feet. Staggering, but with a heart bursting with waves of emotion, she quickly regained her balance, and, struggling to hold on to her daughter, she returned the hug just as intensely. She could not stop from gently stroking her child’s back. She had waited a long time for her daughter’s hug, and she never imagined that this moment would happen.

  Now, after all the tension and conflict, her daughter’s unexpected embrace filled her with joy. Jiang Xue could not bear to let her go. If this unusual adult gift won her this emotional hug, it was worth it.

  “Mom,” Wenwen warmly whispered into her ear again, “Thank you … for not asking.” With that, she walked into her classmate’s home.

  Moved to tears by her daughter’s unexpected comfort and praise, Jiang Xue sat in the car for a long time, and watched other parents drop off their children.

  When she got home, the moment she pushed open the door, she heard Liu Lihua bellow in a thundering rage, “God dammit! How could this be in our house! Get up here and take a look!” He stood at the entrance of Wenwen’s room shaking with fury.

  Jiang Xue’s heart stopped. Bracing herself, she ran upstairs and walked into their daughter’s bedroom and immediately saw the pink box of condoms perched on the spacious and tidy writing desk,.

  The box sat there quietly without the least sense of shame.

  “Wenwen!” Jiang Xue picked up the condoms and clasping them to her heart made a gulping sound, tears forming in her eyes.

  “What’s the matter with you?” asked the confused Liu Lihua, who was still overcome with fury. “What happened? Where did it come from? How did it get into Wenwen’s room?”

  Jiang Xue could no longer control herself. Many times she had held her grief in check. This moment had opened the floodgates of a surging river. Without any grace at all, and without the slightest misgiving, she began to wail. She cried because she understood. She had purposely placed the condoms into Wenwen’s purse. Wenwen must have taken them out and put them on the desk.

  Jiang Xue thought, This is our child’s unspoken promise that for the time being she doesn’t need them. She does understand the distinction between East and West. We have inherited our country’s civilization. We are the sons and daughters of China!

  She remembered the daughter who had hugged her mother warmly and joyfully. In that instant, the estranged and indifferent feelings between them had melted away. Jiang Xue’s tears were tears of joy. In spite of her husband’s angry outburst and panic-stricken questions, and in spite of her complete abandonment of self-control, she cried to her heart’s content.

  With a long sigh and with infinite love she murmured, “Wenwen, Mom’s good girl. Mom’s good girl!”

  Translated by John Edward Stowe and Norah Creedon.

  “Grown Up” was originally serialized in The World Journal, February 2-11, 2008.

  1In spoken Chinese, the third person pronoun “ta” could refer to he, she, it, or even him or her.

  The Abandoned Cat

  LING ZHANG

  THE ALARM CLOCK RANG madly, startling Xiaokai awake. She jerked up from her bed, heart pounding. As she pulled a corner of the quilt to cover her chest, her heartbeat gradually returned to normal. Stretching her leg out under the quilt, she pressed the clock on the end table with her foot over again and again, but it still jingled. A thought flitted across her mind, and she realized it was Saturday. No work today. It was the door bell ringing, not the clock.

  Oh, Shangjie must have brought the cat here, she thought.

  Xiaokai jumped out of the bed. Rushing into the washroom, she turned on the tap. There was no time to brush her teeth, so she wet her finger and wiped her teeth instead. Then she smoothed her hair with a little cold water. In the mirror she looked half awake, her cheeks pink. Not too bad. She slid her feet into slippers and shuffled toward the door.

  As she walked down the hallway, she thought, Shangjie won’t care what I look like. I’ve been living like a ghost these days so that even I don’t care about my miserable face. Why worry now?

  When Xiaokai arrived in Toronto, Shangjie was studying for his PhD degree, with the help of a scholarship and some financial support from Xiaokai, who babysat. Most of the wives of the Chinese students had to commute to their work places daily by the TTC. They worked either as waitresses and dishwashers in Chinese restaurants, or as storekeepers and cashiers in Chinese supermarkets. But, unlike the vast majority of Chinese wives, Xiaokai didn’t need to go anywhere. She looked after three children in the apartment building where she lived—a five-year-old, a three-year-old, and an eight-month-old. Her neighbours dropped the kids at her apartment in the morning and picked them up in the evening. Their parents packed everything the children would need: clothes, food, and drinks. Xiaokai only needed to open the door and let the children and their huge bag of daily supplies inside. Since Xiaokai didn’t have to go out, she was never concerned about her appearance. She wore no makeup, and she never dressed up. From morning till night, she looked the same. Except for the times when she brushed her teeth, she almost never looked into the mirror and some days she even forgot what she looked like.

  Before coming to Canada, she had filled a suitcase with fashionable clothes, but she never used them after she arrived. When she finally thought about those garments, she had gained weight and was unable to fit into them. Those days, Shangjie’s was only focused on his dissertation. To him, home was where he ate and slept. She thought he didn’t mind her casual appearance. But she was wrong. When she realized the problem, it was too late. She had passed the point of no return.

  It had snowed outside.

  The fall had passed quickly. Some leaves were still clinging to the trees, but winter soon laid them to waste. Snow flew in the sky, light and dry. When it landed on the ground, it looked like a sticky clump of thick and dirty dust. Even stomping on it wouldn’t make it melt and disappear. The wind growled, like a starving wolf, breathless and full of sadness and the trees branches trembled in the bleak wind .

  When Xiaokai opened the door, Shangjie stood in front of her. His long neck was hidden under a dark turtleneck. His frost-covered glasses looked like expired plaster, moist and yellowish hiding his two eyes. Something plump was hidden in his coat. That was Timid Huang, their cat.

  As soon as Shangjie entered the apartment, the cat jumped out of his coat, ran toward Xiaokai, and sniffed delicately at her toes, one by one. Then she sprawled on the floor, her four legs up and her soft belly exposed. Knowing what the cat wanted, Xiaokai squatted to scratch the little thing up and down. The cat purred loudly, her mouth wide open and her eyes narrow and gleaming. After stroking her for several minutes, Xiaokai noticed the cat’s left paw was clenched into a ball and remained closed. She tried to open it gently, but the cat jumped up and retreated a couple of steps back on her three legs.

  “She fell down from the stairs last night and was injured. If there’s no improvement in the next couple of days, I’ll take her to a vet,” Shangjie said.

  Timid Huang was female, three and a half years old, and adopted from the humane society some time ago. When they got her, Shangjie had needed to go to the university every day to work on his dissertation. Xiaokai had been left home alone. She couldn’t understand any of TV programs in English; neither did she have friends to chat with. Loneliness was hard to cope with. She had begged Shangjie to get a dog to keep her company, but he didn’t reply, even though she asked several times. Finally he said she should take an English class, or a writing class, or any other class she wished. Xiaokai said she was too tired after babysitting all day long and so it would be hard to learn anything. Frowning, S
hangjie asked if she wanted to be illiterate for the rest of her life. He said she had to learn enough English to at least be able to understand doctors, the police, and the weather forecast. With smirk on her face, Xiaokai had replied that she would rely on him. It was enough if one of them understood English. “Anyway, I will depend on you for the rest of my life,” she said. Finally, with a sigh he told her that walking a dog was too much trouble. A cat would be better.

  The following day, the two went to a pet store. The price startled them. Their mouths opened, but they were speechless. They never talked about the cat again. Some time later, a friend of theirs told them they could get animals free of charge from a humane society in the east end of the town. They went to the pound, where several halls were packed with row after row of cages filled with a variety of different cats and dogs. Xiaokai instantly liked a pure white cat, but Shangjie preferred one with spots. There were too many choices; they couldn’t make up their minds.

  A worker took them to a corner at the far end of a hall and pointed to a metal cage. “Look at this one. If nobody takes it, it’ll be put to sleep tomorrow,” he sighed ruefully.

  It was a yellow fox-like cat with a tiny body and huge eyes like large marbles. Her entire face seemed to be occupied by only big round eyes and nothing else. Her hair was scraggly and there was a hairless spot on her back, which looked as though it had been scalded. As they approached, the cat retreated, stepping back to the corner. Finally, she arched her back, her fur standing on its end, looking like the seed head of a dandelion in the wind.

  “The litter of four was abandoned on the highway, all injured. They’ve recovered since we got them. The other three were adopted. With the scar, this one is unwanted,” explained the worker. “We don’t have much space. We can only keep the animal for two months. We have to put them to sleep afterwards. Her two-month term will end tomorrow.”

  Xiaokai asked if she had a name. The worker said her name was Yellow. Even with her limited English, Xiaokai understood that the word meant huang in Chinese. In a gentle voice, she called the cat by her Chinese name, Ah Huang. No Answer. She called her again; the cat didn’t respond, but her arched back gradually returned to normal. Xiaokai pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket, rubbed it into a ball and placed it on her palm. She extended her hand into the cage to tease Ah Huang. The cat hesitated, then walked slowly toward her, her nose nudging the ball-up paper, sniffing. Suddenly her tongue licked Xiaokai’s hand. Surprise! The worker told them that Yellow had never showed interest in anyone. Clearly, there was a bond between them. She belonged to Xiaokai. Ah Huang looked at Xiaokai, her eyes blinking slowly. Xiaokai’s heart melted. She turned to look at Shangjie and without hesitation, he said, “Okay. She’s yours.”

  The worker thanked them as he prepared the adoption document and a box for the cat. He said that the centre would be responsible for all of Yellow’s medical expenses in the future. “You can bring the cat to see our vet anytime,” he added.

  Shangjie couldn’t help but smile. He said she seemed so shy. “Let’s call her Timid Huang,” he suggested. And officially, that’s how Timid Huang got her name.

  As soon as Shangjie and Xiaokai brought Timid Huang home, the cat ran under the bed and didn’t come out no matter what they did. Shangjie poured some cat food, which they got from the animal center, into a bowl and placed it at the end of the bed, along with a container of water. But Timid Huang ignored the food. The first day passed, and then the second. Timid Huang continued to ignore them. On the third morning, Xiaokai couldn’t bear it any more and called the centre for help. The vet explained that dogs always follow their master, but that cats become attached to particular environments. The cat’s home had changed and the cat wasn’t ready to accept her new home right away. All the vet could suggest was to lure her out with her favourite food. Shangjie and Xiaokai went to the pet store and bought a number of different cat treats. Five plates with different foods sat in a row near the bed, but Timid Huang ate and drank nothing. On the fourth evening, when they couldn’t hear anything moving under the bed, the two thought the cat had died. They crawled beneath the bed and carefully pulled her out. Timid Huang lay motionless. An idea dawned on Shangjie. He got some milk from the fridge, heated it and then poured it into a small bottle to feed the cat. Xiaokai held the cat, and he opened her mouth. Reluctantly, the cat took most of the bottle. Eyes narrowing, she fell asleep.

  Xiaokai gingerly held the cat in her arms and dared not move, afraid that Timid Huang would wake and run away. She dozed on the couch all night with the cat in her lap. The following morning, when she woke, her hands were numb and Timid Huang was gone. Shangjie was nearby, and he pointed to the end of the bed. The cat had squatted in front of the previous night’s bowl and was wolfing down the food. The sunlight poured in, wrapping Timid Huang in soft golden colour, dust motes dancing in the beam of light that caressed her back. Xiaokai felt like a dancing dust mote as well, and she couldn’t help but call out, “Timid Huang, how could you do this to me?” Startled, the cat fled under the bed again.

  Shangjie and Xiaokai soon realized that Timid Huang must have had many terrifying experiences trying to survive life on the highway. She was nervous about eating in front of them as she was used to sneaking food. The food they offered with their hands must have seemed suspicious. Timid Huang didn’t want anybody within earshot when she ate, otherwise she would flee. She would rather starve to death than be around people. But Xiaokai found a way to feed her. She would call her name several times, clanging the bowl of food against the doorframe before she put it down on the floor, and then she would hide in the bathroom. From the gap of the almost closed door, she watched Timid Huang sneak out from a corner. As she ate, the cat’s ears perked up and her body shivered. Xiaokai would remain in the washroom until the cat had finished up. About six months later, Timid Huang finally settled down into the routine of a normal house cat.

  Timid Huang seemed only to belong to Xiaokai, since Shangjie was seldom at home. Occasionally, when Shangjie watched the cat chase her own tail, he thought she was funny. But other than that, he never paid much attention to her. But, after an argument between the husband and wife, Timid Huang suddenly became Shangjie’s cat.

  The argument was over a trifle. Shangjie came home and couldn’t find any clean underwear after his shower. The hamper was full of dirty laundry. As he threw his dirty clothes into the washing machine, he started to complain. “You were at home. What did you do all day long?” That day Xiaokai had felt exhausted since the children she babysat were sick and restless. As a result, she was moody and she fought back.

  “I work all day long,” she shouted, “and don’t do anything but make money to pay the rent.”

  Shangjie was stung by her words and didn’t know what to say. After a moment of silence, he muttered, “Like a peasant, you only think of the instant benefit. You will never change.”

  Xiaokai had been born to a peasant family, but she went to university, and had been one of the most promising young women in her hometown. Labelling her “peasant” was the most humiliating thing Shangjie could have said. He knew how powerful the word was and where his sword should cut. Xiaokai’s her eyes widened and filled with tears. Bang! She pushed all the dishes and bowls off the table and they shattered on the floor. With no meal to eat, Shangjie stormed out.

  He didn’t return home that night. Xiaokai got worried and called friends and acquaintances, but couldn’t find him. She didn’t know that Shangjie had gone to the library and had stayed there until it closed. Not wanting to return home and face an angry Xiaokai, he had no place to go, so he bought a ticket for the midnight movie. There were only two people in the audience: himself and another woman, who had also had a quarrel at home. The two complete strangers hit it off right away. They chatted and poured out all their bitterness to each other. Sympathy was like opium. The more they accepted, the more they wanted. The more they offered, the more they had t
o give. Then they both fell into a large and bottomless black hole.

  Shangjie finally came home in the wee hours of the morning. When his steps approached their apartment, Timid Huang heard him first. She woke from sleep, and twitching her ears, she jumped up from her small bed and ran to the door. His key still in the lock, Shangjie opened the door a crack, and Timid Huang squeezed through and climbed up on him. Her legs kicked on his knees; her tongue licked his hand roughly, hurting him. That moment, Timid Huang wasn’t like a cat, but like a loyal dog who hadn’t seen her master for a long time. Her tongue licked Shangjie, who felt deeply warmed and as though he’d been greeted by a life-long friend. In that instant, Timid Huang wasn’t only Xiaokai’s, but also his. When Shangjie decided to move out, he insisted on taking the cat with him. The ownership of the cat became a key issue over which they argued incessantly. Like parents fighting for child custody, both Shangjie and Xiaokai wanted to keep Timid Huang. Each owned half of the cat. Every week, they took turns looking after her. Every Saturday one of them brought Timid Huang to the other’s place, no exception, and no matter rain or shine.

  It was Xiaokai’s turn this week. Shangjie was supposed to deliver the cat at nine o’clock. She had been studying for an exam until three in the morning the night before, so she didn’t wake until he rang the doorbell.

  Now, Timid Huang lay in the corner, her hurt paw clenched tightly. The cat looked like a bag of bones, her eye dull. Xiaokai’s heart sank. She broke a cat treat in two and tried to feed her. Unable to avoid it, Timid Huang accepted the morsel, but couldn’t swallow. Xiaokai remembered that as a child she had heard people say animals were different from human beings. When they were hurt, they liked to hide somewhere where they could lick their wounds instead of crying for help.