Becoming Madame Mao - Anchee Min [29]
Before my eyes Tang Nah slips into misery. No one will hire him and he is becoming short on money. He shouts at himself. And yet he still goes to restaurants. He can't live without style. He borrows money to buy me gifts. He has to feel rich and capable. He continues to throw big parties to entertain his friends.
I am scared of going into debt, scared of Tang Nah's desire to keep spending. I pull money out of our joint account and hide my savings. One day I am caught and he accuses me of betraying our love.
We haven't spoken to each other for two days. I feel guilty and try to make up by cooking dinner. I prepare his favorite food, pot-stickers. I do it carefully, making sure each pot-sticker turns a perfect golden brown.
He lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling and smoking.
Dinner is ready, I call.
He gets off the bed and comes to the table.
I serve him, putting a pair of chopsticks, a napkin and a little bowl of vinegar in front of him.
He pushes away the plates and begins to speak in a strange voice. Craving for fame is the enemy of happiness. There is nothing worse. You are losing your best qualities. You are influenced by the worst of Shanghai. You have bought its superficiality. I am worried about you. You are destroying yourself. You can't see it because of your poor education. I feel sad and sorry for you. You play smart at small situations but you lose the big battles. You are losing. It is like covering your ears while stealing a bell—you think no one is going to hear you. You know what you are turning into? A philistine. Yes, you are.
She tries to ignore him. She stuffs her mouth with pot-stickers and chews viciously. She tries to think that he is taking his frustration out on her and doesn't mean harm. He has nowhere else to deposit his anger. She has to be there for him. It's time to prove her love. He needs her to hold his trash. That is what she should do for him.
She endures until she reaches her limit.
He continues. I am beginning to believe what my friends say about you. You have come from a small place. I am trying to grow a flower out of a cooked seed.
At this point her rage rises. The impact chokes her. You are my lover, she says, pointing her finger at him, her tears pouring. I can bear nasty rumor, insulting gossip and mean criticism. I can hold up a falling sky, but not your words.
It hurts her too much to go on. She picks up the pot-sticker plate, carries it into the bathroom. She dumps the pot-stickers into the toilet and flushes. She shuts herself in and sobs.
He comes, knocks and begs her to open it. It's all because of my frustration. I apologize. I am afraid. I fear that you will be disappointed and you will leave me.
At midnight, she opens the bathroom door and comes out. She tells him that she can't stay with him anymore. She is unable to erase what he has said from her head.
He looks at her as she starts packing. She takes out her jackets, pants and shoes, her toothbrush and towels. She has a small suitcase and she doesn't have much to pack.
Is this the way you punish me? he says bitterly. You know I have no strength to resist you. All my friends predicted that. But no one can talk me out of loving you. I thought you cared, but ... You don't give our love a second chance. You don't. He breaks down.
She has never seen a man sob like this. His whole frame shakes like cucumber frames beaten down by a storm. She quits packing.
After a long while he stops sobbing. He gets up, goes to the door and opens it widely. Don't bother with me. Just go.
The room is quiet. The water pipe in the toilet tank has stopped filling.
She gets up and walks to the door and closes it. After that she looks at him and waits.
Ping, he calls.
She stretches out her arms.
It is a night of tears and promises. We swear to never let anything