Chenxi and the Foreigner (3 page)

The manager shook his head and turned back to the bar, his men closing in behind him. Chenxi lay still, waiting for his vision to come back into focus, waiting for the anger rising in him to subside. Lao Li crouched beside him. Chenxi sat up and dabbed the back of his head with his fingertips, feeling the sticky blood. The man at the door stared down at him.

‘Come on,' Lao Li urged. ‘Let's get out of here!'

For an instant Chenxi thought of charging. It would mean he would shed more blood, and it would almost be worth it to mess up their crisp white shirts. But Lao Li was at his side, imploring Chenxi to walk away.

Chenxi stood up and spat. ‘I wouldn't want to drink your fuckin' foreign wine, anyway.'

4

Anna woke to the sound of music. Loud and crackly, sentimental jazz. And behind that, a high pitched counting in Chinese numbers, keeping time. Anna knew that beat. One, two, three...Two, two, three. A waltz?

In a daze, she sat up. Her surroundings, the new noises, drew together in her mind like pieces of a puzzle. Her father let out a snore in the next room. The puzzle snapped into place. Her second day in Shanghai was about to start.

Kicking the cotton sheet from her sweaty body, Anna shuffled along the bed to where she could sit by the window. From the thirteenth floor, she had a clear view of Fuxing Park. Directly beneath her was a group of waltzers. There were about twenty of them, mostly women dancing with other women, while an instructor on the side kept time through a megaphone. Anna giggled. Waltzing at six o'clock in the morning! She would have to write all this down before it seemed commonplace to her.

From her bedside drawer, Anna pulled out the journal her mother had given her a few days before she left Melbourne. Perhaps her mother had instinctively known that she wouldn't be hearing from her daughter much, once Anna had arrived in Shanghai, and the journal was a way of staying close. Anna was relieved to have some time away from her mother who had become too dependent on her. Now that her mother didn't have a husband to lean on, Anna felt like she had been forced into the role of her emotional support and confidante. Let one of my sisters deal with her moods for a change, Anna thought. I'm here for a break. For an adventure!

She smoothed open the first page of the small book.

April 4th, 1989

Here I am, finally, in Shanghai! I am looking out of my
bedroom window from Dad's apartment and the view is
amazing. I can see right over Fuxing Park. It's only 6 am
but already the park is full of life—it's like my own private
entertainment! Below me there are waltzers and, to the
right of them, a solitary old man hugs a tree. Behind him,
another old man jiggles on the spot. Across a path lined with
peonies, tai-chi is beginning. I watch the slow perfect fanning
of limbs.

I could sit at this window for hours, days, weeks; the park
is like an ever-changing Bruegel painting with minute detail
to be discovered. But unfortunately I don't have months in
Shanghai, only weeks, and even though I thought my time
here with Dad would drag, I am not so sure now. I have
only been here a day but I already have a date (sort of) with
the most beautiful-looking man I have ever laid eyes upon!
So, I have to get moving because he is picking me up in just
over an hour.

What to wear? I wish it wasn't so hot because I've
brought all the wrong clothes and I can't imagine how I will
find anything here to fit me. All the girls in Shanghai are so
tiny. I feel like a great hulking sweaty blob! And they all
seem to wear frilly girly dresses and high heels—very different
from my shorts and jeans. I wonder if Chenxi likes girls
in jeans?

Anna's father's alarm rang through the thin plaster wall and she crept out of bed to use the shower before he did. Then she slipped on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, the lightest clothing she had brought with her, and joined her father in the kitchen.

They breakfasted together. Muesli and milk, toast and jam. If you had F.E.C. you could shop at the foreign supermarkets and eat the same food as back home.

Before he left for work, Mr White slipped a few more of the paper bank notes into Anna's hand. They seemed to grow inside his wallet. Then he added some advice on how to get by in Shanghai. ‘Remember,
xie xie
is thank you, and don't eat at the street stalls. The Hilton Hotel has a good hamburger restaurant if you need lunch.'

‘It's OK, Dad. I'll be with Chenxi. He's coming to pick me up for college today.' She had decided it would be better not to mention yesterday's desertion if she wanted her father to continue paying Chenxi to be her translator and guide.

‘Yes, look darling, I know it sounds like a lovely idea to study a bit of Chinese painting, but don't feel you have to go. I've got plenty of good videos here and you can catch a taxi into town to meet me for lunch, if you like. You are on holidays, remember? I'll take you to the consulate on Friday night for drinks. You might meet some foreign students your age that you can make friends with.'

‘Chenxi is my age, Dad. He's only nineteen,' Anna reminded her father.

Mr White stood in front of the hallway mirror to adjust his tie, ignoring her response. ‘Hey, they've got a pool at the consulate! You could go for a swim today. That would be a nice idea, wouldn't it? It's very hot to be riding all the way out to the college.'

Anna was irritated by her father's protectiveness. And why did he have to assume that she would want to share his sheltered expatriate lifestyle? She wasn't in China to meet Australians! ‘I'll see how I go, Dad. It's not that far. Chenxi took me past the college yesterday on the way to buy my art materials.'

Her father still wasn't listening. He'd had another thought. ‘I know, love! Rather than go to the college every day we could get one of the teachers to come out here to teach you. At the apartment. And get that boy, Chenksy, too, to translate.'

‘Dad! I said I'll see how I go. I'll be fine, OK?'

‘Yes, see how you go, love. Just remember to take my work number with you, and plenty of money in case you have any problems.' He wiped his mouth on his handkerchief. ‘And don't worry about cleaning up, the
aiyi
will do it.'

After he left, Anna wandered to the sitting room window that looked over the front entrance of their building. From here she could see anyone who came into the building or left it. She watched her father get into the back of his navy car with tinted windows and thought how absurd it was that he complained of putting on weight. If he rode to work like the other sixteen million inhabitants of Shanghai, he would be as skinny as they were. Instead, he preferred to pay a fortune to ride a stationary bike in an exclusive ‘foreigners only' gym.

Seven-thirty came and went, then eight o'clock, then nine. Anna had never been a patient person. She liked looking forward to something, but she hated waiting. By nine-thirty she knew Chenxi wasn't coming. Classes had started over an hour ago and, with a forty minute bike ride ahead of her, Anna wondered if she would get to see any of the first lessons at all.

Why wouldn't he come? They had spent a pleasant afternoon together the day before—at least she thought so—seeing the sights of Shanghai in the air-conditioned comfort of a taxi. She had felt giddy sitting so close to him in the back seat, absorbing the smell of him, studying his beautiful face. She had gone to bed that night dreaming of him, feeling sure he would have done the same about her. If you were attracted to someone, weren't they necessarily attracted to you? But Chenxi's face gave away nothing. The picture of that warm apologetic smile in the taxi before he disappeared into the traffic materialised constantly in Anna's mind.

She wasn't sure why she was so obsessed with him. After all, she barely knew him. But there was something about him that pushed all reason out of her mind. He was so mysterious, so unselfconsciously handsome. She had never felt like this about anyone before. Perhaps he had a girlfriend? Was that why he wasn't coming? If so, he should have made it clear from the start. Surely he could feel Anna's attraction towards him? So why did he smile at her that way? She started to feel angry again.

Wasn't it an honour for him to be chosen out of all the students at the college to look after her? Her father said that any other Chinese student would have cut off his right arm for the opportunity. And all that F.E.C. he'd given Chenxi? According to her father it was virtually impossible for a student in China to get hold of the foreigners' currency— other than by illegal means. Local Chinese currency was supposed to have the same value as the F.E.C., but it couldn't be exchanged outside China. So one yuan in F.E.C. could be traded for up to twice as many local yuan on the black market
.
Not only that, but with F.E.C. a Chinese could buy foreign goods and have access to places where only foreigners were allowed. Chenxi should be grateful for the opportunity they were offering him! Anna stood up, frustrated and irritable. Should she go to the consulate pool after all?

She was deciding whether to exchange the bamboo and wolf hair paint brushes in her bag for her bikini, when the doorbell rang. Of course he had come, why wouldn't he? She flung the bag over her back and skipped to the door, but a key fiddled in the lock and it was opened before she had a chance to reach it. Both women found themselves face to face with a stranger.

The
aiyi
was the first to speak, ‘Oh, sorry, sorry. Daughter? You Mr White daughter?'

‘Yes,' Anna said, disappointed. ‘You must be the
aiyi
?'

The young woman looked very dressed up for a cleaning maid. Her hair was tied up at the back in a glittery, gauzy clasp and frizzed out at the front. She wore make-up, a shiny pink blouse and the strappy high heels that seemed to be so fashionable among the women in Shanghai.

‘Yes, yes.
Aiyi!
' The Chinese woman giggled at Anna's pronunciation. ‘Wang. My name Wang. Miss Wang.'

‘Anna.'

Miss Wang beamed. As if in a trance she walked up to Anna and fingered her long blond ringlets, cooing and nodding in approval. Anna stood still to allow the
aiyi
her curiosity even though she didn't feel comfortable being fingered and prodded. Miss Wang stood back to inspect Anna from a distance. ‘Mmm…
hen piaoliang!
'

Anna shrugged.

The
aiyi
giggled then rushed to Mr White's bookshelf and pulled out a Chinese-English dictionary. She licked her thumb and flicked through the pages. When she found what she wanted, she grinned and brought the book over to Anna, prodding the word with her finger.

‘Pretty,' Anna said.

The
aiyi
raised her eyebrows.

‘Pre-tty,' Anna repeated, more slowly.

‘Plitty!' The
aiyi
tried, and Anna smiled encouragingly.

In return she tried out one of the Chinese words she already knew, ‘
Xie xie!'

‘Sank you?' Miss Wang twittered.

‘Yes!' Anna smiled, and then had an idea. ‘Here,' she said, taking the book. She flicked through until she saw the word she was looking for.

‘Oh, yes, yes. Taxi!' the
aiyi
said, pleased to have known the word already.

Anna fished her map of Shanghai out of her bag. She found the college in the top left corner and pointed to it. ‘Can you get me a taxi to go there? Shanghai College of Fine Arts?'

‘Oh!' The
aiyi
nodded, squinting at the map. ‘
Shanghai
Mei Shu Xue Yuan!
Oh! Taxi?'

‘Yes!' said Anna, excited with their communication. ‘Yes! Taxi to go there!'

Ten minutes later, Anna was on her way to the college, grinning with pride in her own determination.

5

Chenxi was at the bar. Everything was blurred and too bright. The man in the smart suit was jabbing him in the shoulder, harder and harder, pushing and shoving.

The jabbing became more urgent. Lao Li's voice murmured a warning in Chenxi's ear. The pitch rose and rose until it was no longer Lao Li's mellow voice, but the screeching of Mrs Zhu who lived in the apartment next door to Chenxi.

‘Get up! Get up, you good for nothing. You're in trouble again. The college has rung for you. Three times. Finally I had to go downstairs and speak to them. If they knew you were slumbering away up here like an old ox. If your mother knew! Out working all day to bring up a great big boy like you. You call yourself an artist? You're a lazy good for nothing...'

‘OK, OK, OK,' Chenxi groaned. He tried to sit up, but a blinding light burst behind his eyes and he fell back on the pillow again. He rubbed the crusty swelling on his scalp and wondered if the ache in his head was from the rice wine or the fall.

‘It's all right, Mrs Zhu, I'll ring the college. You can go now. Thanks for taking the message.' Chenxi flashed a smile and his gruff neighbour was momentarily calmed by the young man's beautiful face.

Mrs Zhu continued to hover, suspicious. She had looked after her neighbour's son since he was a child, while his mother tried to make a living, picking up factory work where she could. The poor woman, thought Mrs Zhu. She was lucky she could get any work after all the problems her husband had caused.

Mrs Zhu liked to keep an eye out for them. And for all the other people in the building. She prided herself on having the most up-to-date information on the private life of every single person in Apartment Block Eighteen. It was her responsibility, she thought, not only as a good tenant, but as a good member of the district Communist Party.

‘It's OK, Mrs Zhu!' Chenxi insisted, dragging himself out of bed. ‘I'm going to ring them straight away.'

The old lady backed out of the doorway, looking around the shuttered room in the dim light for anything out of the ordinary. She shook her head in exasperation and pulled the door behind her.