'This is a nice apartment,' she says.
I laugh and she is startled. 'It's a dump,' I say. 'But it is what I can afford.'
So we eat.
'I have to get up early,' I say, 'lets get you settled.'
She nods, all tension.
I go into my bedroom and dig a sheet out of my closet. I have two pillows on my bed, so I skin one out of the case and put a clean case on it. San-xiang stands in the doorway and watches me. I feel as if something is wrong, but I don't know what it is. My bedroom is a mess, I wonder if she is upset. Did she have some idea that I lived this elegant life? If so, the actual squalor of coffee cups in the bedroom could be a little distressing.
I have a quilt and use the pillow, sheet and quilt to create a makeshift bed on the couch. It's not going to adjust to body temperature but it should be comfortable enough. I probably should put her on my bed and sleep out here, but damn it, I didn't ask her to come over, and besides, all the rest of my sheets are dirty and I'm not going to bring dirty sheets out here to sleep and put her in my bed.
'I have to be at work at seven tomorrow,' I explain, 'so I'll be leaving a little after six. What time do you have to be at work?'
'Nine,' she says.
'What time do you need to wake up?'
'About seven-thirty?' she says.
'Okay, I'll tell the system. There's coffee and tea in the kitchen. Feel free to watch the vid, make yourself at home.'
She sits down on the couch, her hands folded in her lap. Again I have the feeling that she is upset. It is probably strange to her.
'Have you ever been away from home before?'
'Oh yeah,' she says. 'Every year I go somewhere for a couple of weeks and Cuo sent me to Arkansas for training two years ago. I was there for eighteen weeks.' She looks up at me, straight at me instead of her usual sidelong glance. 'Why are you always looking at me?'
Flustered I say, 'What do you mean?'
'You are always studying me. Is it because I am ugly?'
'No,' I say too quickly, 'of course not.'
'It's okay,' she says, 'I know I'm ugly. Someday, when I have enough money, I will have my face fixed. It's a bone problem, it only happens to one in twenty thousand children. It's not so expensive if they do something right at adolescence, but my father was in trouble, so we had to come here.'
'What happened to your father?'
'He managed a branch of Huang-Kamakai in Guangzhou and his branch lost a lot of money, hundreds of thousands of yuan. So they transferred him to the United States and sent him to work at Hong Fangzhen Construction. They used to own it. Then during the Cleansing Winds it lost so much money they sold it to an ABC so now we can never be transferred back.'
Well, I have to get up, so I go to bed. After a few minutes I hear the vid on very low. I go to sleep with my back to the crack of light showing under my door.
The system gets me up and I creep through the front room to the bathroom, clean up and dress. When I come out of the bathroom, the hills and valleys on the couch shift and San-xiang sits up.
'Go back to sleep,' I whisper, 'it's only quarter of six.'
'I'm awake,' she says and turns on the light. She blinks in the glare. 'I can make you coffee,' she says.
'I always get it at the site,' I say, 'go to sleep.'
But she gets up, wearing a loose shift and barefoot, her hair tangled, and takes her bag into the bathroom. I'm ready early, I usually sit around, watch the vid a bit, sometimes make coffee. Or I sleep too late and rush out at six-thirty.
This morning I make coffee and sit down with a cup. I wonder how long she'll stay. I don't have the ambition to bring it up in the morning. She comes out dressed.
'Coffee?' I ask.
She pours a cup.
'Sugar is by the sink, I don't have milk,' I say.
She gets sugar and brings it back to the couch but sits with the cup untasted.
'Did you sleep well?' I ask.
'Fine,' she says brightly.
We make small talk. I ask her about her work, she works for Cuo, one of the big Chinese conglomerates, she's a clerk in the international transport department. She routes orders.
She doesn't like coffee, but I pretend not to notice. And in a few minutes, I leave for work.
When I get home that evening-we are on rush work which means we work long hours and I don't get home until nearly seven-thirty-she is already there. I hear her in the kitchen when I open the door. The living room is neat, the sheet and quilt neatly folded on the end of the couch. She is chopping in the kitchen, I wait until I hear the cleaver stop before calling hello.
'Zhong Shan?' she calls.
I am tired to the bone. Foreman Qian was not on the site today, a small blessing, but there were too many things to do. I worked for twelve hours, the hard physical work of pounding excess off forms and pulling the forms, polishing the face of the building. Painstaking hand work with a crew that wants to get it done and go home. I have shouted myself nearly hoarse. The crew is mutinous. But the job will be done by Friday if we don't get disastrous weather.
I don't really want company. If Peter called I would tell him to go pound sand. 'San-xiang,' I say. I smell rice cooking.
'Are you always so late?' she says. She is chopping scallions.
'No,' I say, 'usually I am home around five.' I find a beer and collapse in a chair.
'Did you see my father?'
'He wasn't on site today. He might be tomorrow.'
'Will you tell him where I am?'
'If he asks,' I say.
She frowns at the wok, tosses chicken in sesame oil. It is a smell that reminds me of growing up. 'Don't tell him, okay? Tell him you don't know where I am. I don't want him to know.'
I don't like this. I shrug.
She stirs the chicken, tosses in green scallions and chinese chilis and adds a glob of sesame paste. Then she spills it onto plates. 'Are you hungry?'
'Yeah,' I say. 'This is very nice of you.'
'It's nice of you to let me stay,' she says.
I hadn't planned on her staying this long. 'How long will you be here?' I ask.
'Whenever you want me to go,' she says, 'you tell me. I'll understand.'
I don't exactly know what to say. Tonight. I want you to leave tonight. Go stay with one of your friends from the political study group. I don't say anything, just shovel food into my mouth while I think about this.
I decide that tomorrow I'll tell her to leave. 'This is very good.'
'Thank you.'
I should tell her to be out by the weekend. I should tell her right now. But it seems terrible to sit eating her food telling her not to stay. Tomorrow I'll eat before I get home. She doesn't think about the position she's put me in because she doesn't have any friends, she's not accustomed to being around people. I am furious. But as always, I hesitate to reject her. I look into that monkey face and think, she's been rejected and hurt enough, and I put it off. I am a coward.
We sit and watch the vid for awhile, 'Do you want to see kite races?' she asks.
'I don't really care,' I say. Actually I don't watch the kites on vid much, but since I took her she thinks it's the most important thing in my life. We watch a serial. We make small talk. I fall asleep in my chair and wake up with a jerk. Where can she go? She can't get housing, not unless her parents will file a separation. Surely she has
