The anklet on Qiao Lin’s ankle jingled. Her long hair fanned out in the wind. Xu Yan caught the scent of shampoo. The boy vanished at the end of the road, but they didn’t stop.
Dark clouds churned overhead.
Xu Yan vaguely realized that in this short time, they’d run through all the streets she used to wander as a child.
It was like a fast-forwarded movie, frames flashing by, unstoppable. Qiao Lin suddenly tugged her arm and pointed at the sky. At the farthest edge of the horizon, a green kite was slowly rising.
Xu Yan stopped and looked up with Qiao Lin. The kite, with its two long tails, looked like a real swallow. It dipped in the strong wind, glided over the low dark clouds, and soared upward.
Xu Yan and her neighbor stood under the bar’s awning.
The neighbor said, “It’s raining again, isn’t it?”
She smiled and said, “What does it matter?”
The neighbor said, “I hope it rains—it makes the soil easier to dig.”
Xu Yan shook her short hair. “What did you say?”
The neighbor said, “My dog died. I’m going to bury it later.”
“Where is it now?” Xu Yan laughed.
“You didn’t freeze it in the fridge, did you?”
The neighbor’s face twitched.
“I really don’t want to go home. Can we have another drink?”
Xu Yan said, “Sure, I’ve got some at my place.”
The neighbor asked, “Where’s your boyfriend?”
Xu Yan said, “We broke up.”
The neighbor said, “That’s a shame. By the way, when can I try your cooking? I always smell something amazing in the hallway.”
Xu Yan said, “Could be takeout.”
The neighbor said, “No, I’ve tried all the takeout around here.”
Xu Yan asked, “No girlfriend?”
The neighbor said, “The ones I like don’t like me.”
Xu Yan said, “You must have some weird habits.”
The neighbor thought for a moment.
“Does eating oranges while soaking in the bathtub count?”
The rain grew heavier, and they started running. Xu Yan stepped into a large puddle, splashing rainwater all over herself. She laughed. Arriving under the eaves, the neighbor shook off the rainwater from his body, turned his head and asked,
” By the way, how is your cousin? Is her child doing well?”
Xu Yan stopped laughing and looked at him.
“One night I came down to walk the dog, shining the flashlight around randomly, and suddenly by the bushes I saw a woman lying there as if she were dead. I was just about to call security when she opened her eyes and said it’s nothing, I just fainted. I wanted to help her up, but she said she wanted to lie there a bit longer. I felt awkward leaving her, so I sat beside her and chatted with her for a while. Xu Yan asked, What did she say? ”
” I forgot… Oh right, ”
” the little one in my belly seems to really like Beijing and doesn’t want to leave here, so I told him, you’ll be back soon, you’ll grow up here in the future… Um, your cousin also said, don’t forget to bring my dog to play with her then…”
Xu Yan started crying. Qiao Lin had never said she would entrust the child to her.
However, she knew the child would come to Beijing, probably firmly believing in the bond between herself and Xu Yan, and because she understood what kind of person Xu Yan was, perhaps understanding her better than Xu Yan herself.
That heart wrapped in too many layers of disguise and pretense, even unable to see itself clearly.
Xu Yan looked up at the sky, so that the tears would fall more slowly. She nodded and said, The child will come soon, to play with your dog…
The neighbor said, The dog died, I’m going to bury it tonight…
Xu Yan murmured, “You don’t know how well-behaved that child is, not noisy at all, as soon as you tease her, she giggles nonstop, it’s a girl, very pretty, with round eyes, wearing a white dress, like a little princess…”
“Oh, then I’ll get another dog…”
The sound of the rain drowned out his words. Xu Yan stood under the eaves, quietly listening to the rain outside. She didn’t know if she could take good care of the child, whether in the future for the sake of her prospects she would want to abandon her.
She had no confidence in herself at all. But at this moment, she could feel the warmth in the palm of her hand. Some changes were happening in her, her patience had increased a lot compared to the past.
Perhaps, she thought, now she had the opportunity to become a different person.
☆☆☆☆
Cheng Cheng hated snow so much for the first time. Heavy snow caused the airport to fall into paralysis, with apologetic notifications constantly coming from the broadcast, and the plane’s arrival time repeatedly delayed.
The rows of chairs were full of people, the infant in the neighboring seat crying loudly, and the red-haired boy across from her spilling potato chips all over the floor.
She went outside to smoke, and an Indian woman wearing a sari immediately sat in her chair, relieving herself by unloading her backpack.
It was already dark outside, and the snow was still falling. The road in front of the door had just been cleared, but a layer of white frost had fallen again.
She pulled up her hood, shielding the flame in the cold wind to light a cigarette.
After a delay of four hours, the plane finally landed at Kennedy Airport. Cheng Cheng stood behind the barrier, watching Xia Hui walk out, feeling as if she was really waiting for something.
He was an utterly ordinary-looking middle-aged man, dragging a heavy suitcase, sandwiched among a group of white people, appearing particularly thin and small.
He had probably slept for a long time on the plane, as his hair was a bit messy from dreaming. Xia Hui walked over this way.
She put away the white paper in her hand with his name written on it; she had been holding it up, and her arm was sore. She took the suitcase and briefly introduced herself to him.
The car left the airport, heading toward the destination. They made small talk, discussing New York. He had been here three times, all short stays.
He said he didn’t like it here, feeling that international metropolises were all the same.
He liked ancient and quaint cities, like Toledo in Spain. He asked how long she had been here. Five years, she said.
“First studied for two years, then started working.”
“Always at this Chinese association?”
“No, came temporarily to help with the literature festival.”
“Like literature?”
“Ah, no, another girl had something come up, I came to replace her.”
She turned her head and smiled at him, “I’m clueless about literature.”
He nodded magnanimously. She felt a gaze looking down from on high, with a touch of pity.
When they were almost at the hotel, he took a phone call. After hanging up, he sighed:
“Still have to meet two friends. I haven’t even written tomorrow’s speech yet.”
“Writers should all be able to speak eloquently, right?”
“It’s easy to muddle through, anyway it’s just that same set of words, said this way and that. Sometimes I want to say something else, alas, really can’t find the time.”
“Mm.” She nodded, indicating she understood very well.
The car stopped at the hotel entrance, and a doorman in a black cloak came up to carry the luggage.
The hotel lobby was in a nostalgic 1930s style, with dim light faintly trembling, and low, lingering jazz music brushing past the ears like feathers.
He walked over and hugged the guests sitting on the sofa. It was an elegantly dressed American couple in their fifties, the man with silver hair and a ruddy face, somewhat like a not-yet-slim Clinton, the woman wearing large pearl earrings, with very bright lipstick.
Cheng Cheng went over to help him check in, handing the documents to the boy at the front desk.
She stood there with her elbow on the counter waiting, casually picking up a nearby flyer to read. It turned out Woody Allen played the clarinet here every Monday.
She remembered watching “Midnight in Barcelona” with Lulu, a love story with a bit of adventure.
But the admission ticket for the performance was actually two hundred dollars, even including a dinner, it was too expensive.
