Chenxi and the Foreigner (7 page)

The noodles were delicious. In fact they were so good that when Chenxi ordered a second bowl Anna did the same. This time she ate the whole lot including the tasty dried meat, and when she sat back from the table, over-full and sweaty, she saw that Chenxi and Lao Li had been watching, impressed.

‘What?' Anna snapped. ‘You think just because I'm a girl I can't eat as much as you?'

Chenxi chuckled and translated for Lao Li. Then he turned back to Anna and said, ‘That why Lao Li call you
Xiao Pang Pang
.'

‘What's that?' Anna said, pleased that she had already picked up a term of endearment for herself.

‘It mean “Small Fat Fat”,' Chenxi said, laughing.

Anna was mortified. ‘What?' she spluttered. ‘I'm not fat!'

‘Yes you are!' said Chenxi. ‘In China to be fat is lucky. Lao Li think fat is beautiful.'

Despite her liberal upbringing, Anna found it hard to take fat as a compliment! How different from her own culture's definition of beauty. Even she, of average proporions, had in her early teenage years succumbed to fetishes of dieting and starvation like most of her friends at school.

She glanced at Chenxi slyly. ‘What about you? Do you like “fat” girls?'

‘I like all girls,' he boasted, and Anna felt a tiny thread tighten inside her.

That afternoon, the young model came to class again and smiled when she saw Anna. This time she undid her gown to the waist and sat stiffly, staring ahead of her as the class drew.

Anna took in her skeletal frame, small and neat like a child's. Her own body felt big and clumsy and the two bowls of noodles sat heavily in her stomach. But only that day, Anna reminded herself, she had been admired by two men, even if neither of them was Chenxi. Nevertheless, she was glad she was no longer a self-conscious schoolgirl who would have taken weeks to get over a remark like Chenxi's at lunchtime. It was like shaking off a cumbersome chrysalis to appreciate your body as it was. Anna smiled to herself as she drew.

Soon she felt Chenxi hovering behind her. Even though he did not make a sound, she sensed an aura that sent her drawing arm to jelly. She put down her charcoal. The only way she could draw with him in the same room was to block him out of her mind. Even that was no mean feat.

‘Yes?' she said, turning to face him.

He smiled, stepping back.

Anna tried to think of something to keep his attention. ‘Chenxi,' she whispered.

‘Hmm?'

‘You want to go for a swim this afternoon? In the consulate pool?' She hadn't even seen the pool, but she was sure it would entice him. ‘It's beautiful. And cool. And quiet. You know—tranquil?'

‘Tranquil.'

‘Yes, tranquil. I taught you that word yesterday. Remember?' ‘Tranquil. Calm. Yin and yang,' Chenxi teased.

Anna reddened. ‘So. You want to come?'

‘Maybe.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

Chenxi flicked through the small worn dictionary he carried in his pocket. ‘Maybe: perhaps, possibly…'

‘Ha, ha, ha!' Anna said and went back to her drawing. ‘Come if you want. I don't care. I'm going anyway. It's too hot. I'll meet you at the Australian consulate at four.'

Four o'clock came and went. Anna waited until ten past before diving into the pool. If he comes, he comes, she thought. I'm not going to hang around all day waiting for him again!

The cool, rippled turquoise closed over her. Underwater she could have been anywhere. But, when she rolled onto her back and looked up at the grey polluted sky, she was unmistakably in Shanghai. Anna swam and dived and twisted through the water. Her pores were cleansed of the soot and silt but she could not rid her mind of Chenxi. Occasionally she felt sure of his presence and would flip over, certain he would be at the side of the pool, watching. But only the lush consulate palms waved back at her and Anna tried to ignore her own disappointment.

After an hour, she got out of the pool and dressed, refreshed enough to feel herself again. She walked her bike out the front gate and was just about to mount when she heard Chenxi's call from behind.

‘Chenxi! What are you doing here?'

‘I wait for you!'

‘But I've been here for ages! Why didn't you come in?'

‘You tell me meet you at consulate. I wait here, outside.'

‘Oh, Chenxi! I feel terrible! I thought you weren't coming.'

‘I say only maybe. Maybe no. Maybe yes, too.'

‘Oh, I'm so sorry. Have you been waiting all this time? Come on, let's go for a swim now. I'll go in again.'

‘I must go help my mother cook dinner. She is home from work very tired.'

‘Chenxi, I really feel awful. How can I make up for it?' Anna searched his face to see if he was annoyed but she couldn't tell. ‘Look, I know. On Friday night they have drinks here, at the consulate. Would you come? At six?'

Chenxi stared across the road. ‘Maybe.'

‘Chenxi! Maybe yes, or maybe no!'

Chenxi winked. ‘Maybe. Perhaps. Possibly.'

10

Lights sparkled and bobbed in the consulate pool. The sounds of forced laughter and the chinking of glasses wafted around the back porch of the old two-storey mansion, along with the musky odour of perfume and sweat. Anna looked for Chenxi in case he had arrived early, but there were no Chinese in sight. The only Asian-looking man had a very strong American accent. Although it was evening and a breeze had lifted, all the foreigners had a sweaty sheen about them, as if they were in a state of constant anxiety. Some of the balding men carried monogrammed handkerchiefs, which they drew out of their top pockets from time to time to dab at their foreheads. Women slapped at mosquitoes around their bare ankles.

Anna was bored. She shifted from foot to foot half listening to the chatter around her. Why were they all here? What brought them to China? Living as an expatriate must be a bit like movie stardom in Hollywood. It was an unreal existence. Even though she complained about being stared at and touched in the streets, it was like being famous. A constant ego trip. Was that why all these foreigners were here? Were they nobodies in their own countries?

‘Well hello!' A woman in a cocktail dress and glittery nails floated towards her. ‘You must be Anna. Your father told me you were visiting. How are you enjoying it here?'

Anna didn't feel in the mood to play the good daughter. Her father spoke for her anyway, as she had expected he would, explaining that she was in China to ‘broaden her horizons' and to pick up a bit of Mandarin ‘to help her future career options'. As Anna smiled distractedly, she kept a watch on the front gate. She had told Chenxi in the afternoon that if he was going to
maybe
come, then
maybe
he should come in. She couldn't wait for him all night out the front.

A group of young people meandered through the gate, foreign students, and Anna's father nudged her. She looked them over perfunctorily and spied one whom she guessed to be the French student her father was keen on. He had thick, curly brown hair, an attractive face, and was well dressed in cream linen pants and a silk shirt. But any interest she tried to summon up was banished by thoughts of Chenxi.

Anna excused herself from the conversation and wound her way through the sweaty bodies towards the trestle table set up as a bar. She jabbed a piece of cheese on the end of a toothpick and knew that she had been noticed. She picked up a flute of champagne and felt the French man sidle up behind her. He leaned in front of her to take a glass of beer, bumping her arm.

‘Oh, excuse me!' he said in mock surprise.

Anna smiled, impressed at his smooth pick-up. He fitted her stereotype of a Frenchman.

‘My name is Laurent. Are you a student here?' he continued without missing a beat.

‘Anna. I'm studying Chinese painting at the Shanghai College of Fine Arts.'

‘Oh?' he said, feigning intense fascination. ‘You're an artiste!'

‘I hope to be.'

‘I know that college. It's across the river from where I study at East China Normal University. I study Mandarin. You should come over and see us there one day.' He gestured to include the other students he had arrived with. ‘We have great parties!'

‘I should,' Anna replied without promise and looked towards the front gate again. Chenxi was either very late or he wasn't coming.

Laurent noticed. ‘Are you waiting for someone?'

‘Mmm,' she nodded. ‘A classmate.'

‘Boy or girl?' he said with a teasing smile.

Anna decided that Chenxi wasn't coming. Anyway, it had been a while since she had played this game. It was a game she knew. With Chenxi she was never sure where she stood.

‘Does it matter?' she said.

Laurent grinned, accepting his role. ‘That depends.'

He took out a packet of Marlboro from his shirt pocket and offered her one. Anna knew smoking was about more than just cigarettes. It was a ritual, an ice breaker, an intimate little club. Chinese men never did deals without exchanging cigarettes. People who had never smoked didn't understand that in giving up smoking it wasn't the letting go of the cigarettes that was the hardest part.

‘Smoke?'

‘I've given up,' said Anna regretfully.

‘Shame,' said Laurent. He flicked a match across a matchbook and held it to the cigarette hanging from his lips, his shoulders hunched up and his eyes squeezed. The flame created a little golden halo of light to frame his attractive face. He knew it.

Laurent puffed, shook the match out and drew back deeply before fixing Anna's eyes. ‘What about hashish?'

‘Well…I guess I'd give anything a try,' Anna replied, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

Laurent smiled, delighted, and patted his trouser pocket. ‘Shall we go for a walk then?'

‘I'll just tell my dad I'm getting a breath of fresh air. I'll meet you at the front gate,' Anna said. Laurent didn't seem to worry about leaving the people he had come with.

Anna told her father she would find her own way home. He smiled approvingly towards Laurent and thrust some more notes into her hand.

‘OK, love. You've got the spare key, haven't you? Have fun.'

When Anna and Laurent reached the front gate of the consulate they heard a terrible commotion: angry voices and among them one she recognised. Chenxi! She pushed through the crowd and saw him arguing fiercely with the Consul guard. Every now and then Chenxi was interrupted as someone in the crowd offered their opinion. The guard was shaking his head.

‘Chenxi!' Anna called. ‘What's the matter?'

Chenxi stopped shouting for a moment and looked at Anna. The crowd did the same. Then he turned back to the guard, pointing towards Anna, and continued shouting even louder.

‘Is that your friend?' Laurent raised his eyebrows.

‘Yes,' said Anna.

‘He's not acting very Chinese, is he?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well he's saying some pretty heavy things for a Chinese. He should watch out. That kind of talk could get him into trouble!'

Chenxi strode over. ‘He not want let me in. He say no Chinese allowed but I tell him you invite me,' he muttered to Anna. ‘Shit!'

‘We're leaving anyway,' Anna said. ‘You want to come? This is Laurent.'

Laurent slapped Chenxi amiably on the shoulder and said something long and complicated in Chinese. They both laughed.

‘Yeah. I come,' Chenxi said.

The three of them pushed through the arguing crowd and set off down the street.

Laurent and Chenxi chatted in Chinese as they strode through the pools of yellow light on the pavement. Anna followed and tried to look as if she didn't care that she couldn't understand.

Chenxi was warming to Laurent, and Anna wished yet again that she could speak Chinese. If there was a way to reach him it would certainly be through his own language. But we share a language, too. Our art. He has to feel there is some connection there. Surely the language of art traverses all cultures?

Laurent stopped and leant against a high brick wall in the shadowy space between two street lamps. He took a film canister and a packet of French cigarette papers out of his hip pocket.

Anna looked around. The street was certainly not empty. A sulky girl and her boyfriend walked past, turning to gape at the foreigners.

Laurent broke off a little of the greasy hashish and, with a practised hand, mixed it with tobacco into one of the papers. Then he licked the seal and rolled a neat joint. She noticed that even though Laurent's hands were scrupulously clean, old stains of hashish had worked their way into his fingerprints.

‘You're not going to light up here?' Anna said, astounded. A young man wobbled past on his bike, crooning to himself. An old lady stretched out of the window above, pulling her shutters closed, locking out the night. The streets were quiet in the consulate quarter, where the old European-style buildings and spotted plane trees lining the streets were reminiscent of France.

‘They don't know what it is,' Laurent assured her. ‘They think it's just some strange type of foreign cigarette.'

Anna had the feeling that Laurent might be showing off. For her benefit.

Laurent lit up and drew back hard, squinting in the smoke as he passed the joint to Anna. She took it and drew back tentatively at first, savouring the sweet musky taste. It was a lot stronger than grass. She handed the joint back to Laurent and waited for the effect.

Laurent offered the joint to Chenxi who smiled slowly and shook his head. ‘I am Chinese, maybe, but I know what that is. I been to Xinjiang.'

Laurent shrugged and took another drag.

Anna began to feel fuzzy. When Laurent passed the joint back to her, she drew on it once again. Hard.

The street noises became treacly. The lights softened and blurred. Anna knew she was smiling like a fool.

They stood between two streetlights, against the brick wall.