Both of them were shaken by the scene, which reminded them that they hadn't paid off their mortgage yet. They still owed Mr. Wolf $38,000. If their business folded or if they fell ill, their home might be repossessed as well. By all means they must get rid of the mortgage as soon as possible.
Shubo stopped by at noon to get from Niyan the key to their safe-deposit box in the bank. Nowadays he worked at Grand Buddha as its barkeep and made decent wages. He and Nan got along well, so he often came in to chat or to give Nan a magazine or newspaper that carried something interesting. Nan was amazed by Shubo's manner, which bore no trace of his academic background. Who could imagine this fellow had earned a Ph.D. in sociology? In every way he looked like a menial worker, with a weather-beaten face and shadowy eyes. When the Wus told him about their neighbor's eviction, Shubo said, "Americans are tough. They live more naturally, close to animals."
Nan laughed and asked, "What do you mean by 'close to animals'? Animals don't have to work to make money and pay mortgages and car loans."
"I mean, if you're strong you survive here, if you're weak you die."
"It's the same everywhere."
"But lots of Americans won't grumble if bad luck strikes. They take it just as something that happens."
Nan wasn't certain if Shubo's observation was accurate, though he had noticed that in general Americans didn't complain much and seemed more able to endure frustrations and misfortunes.
Early that afternoon, when the busy hours were over, Nan went back to see the eviction again and also to check on his own property. He feared that the movers might have damaged the steel fence dividing his backyard from Gerald's. As he was approaching his home, suddenly hundreds of blackbirds took off from Gerald's front lawn, veering away, their wings whirring, and casting a drifting shadow on the ground. Nobody was at Gerald's, and his possessions were strewn around the house, which was sealed, a lockbox hanging on the door handle. Other than the two wheelless barrows, everything was still there. Nan walked around a little and saw that his backyard fence was intact. He entered Gerald's front porch. On a windowsill was propped open a magazine displaying a young couple copulating in doggie fashion. Nan swiped it to the ground; it was an old copy of Hustler. Most of its pages had been crinkled by rainwater. Gerald must have picked it up somewhere, maybe from a trash can. Nan thought about keeping it for a day or two, then changed his mind and kicked it to a pile of newspapers and posters.
As he stepped from the porch, to his surprise, he saw Gerald standing at the edge of his yard, holding a blue bicycle and gazing at the piles of his belongings with large, dazed eyes. The man looked as if he were afraid to step on the lawn, his feet on the pavement, his right hand holding the handlebar of the bike. He raised his head and caught sight of Nan. Nan had never seen Gerald so small and so frail, his eyes lackluster and his chin covered with grizzling bristles. Nan waved and walked toward him, wondering what consoling words he should say. But Gerald spun around, leaped on the bicycle, and trundled away, the chain clinking its guard and the rear-wheel fender. A gust of wind lifted his hair into a tuft and swelled the back of his gray shirt, making him resemble a large bird. Nan exhaled a long sigh.
17
HAILEE was going to be one year old on September 16, and Janet had been busy preparing the birthday party, to which the Wus were invited. As the nominal mother Pingping had agreed to go, but Nan was reluctant. Six weeks ago he and his wife had attended a party at the Mitchells', and he had felt out of place among the crowd there. This time, afraid he might again feel left out, he decided to stay at the Gold Wok that evening. Besides, there was so much to do at the restaurant that either he or Pingping had to be around during the busy hours. So Pingping went to the Mitchells' alone with a picture book in Chinese as a present for the baby. When she arrived, most of the people hadn't shown up yet. Janet told Pingping that several of Hailee's godparents were coming too.
Dave was watching a baseball game with their daughter on his lap while Janet was busy in the kitchen, unwrapping cheese and pouring a jar of salsa into a soup bowl. A large woman holding a glass of seltzer came up to Pingping, introducing herself as Christine, and they entered into conversation. To Pingping's surprise, Christine had taught nursing at a medical school in Taiwan for a year and was reminiscing about her experiences there fondly. She said she missed the night snacks sold at the streetside eateries in Taipei. Pingping noticed that her left eye was bloodshot and a little puffy, so she asked her, "What happen to your eye?"
"Oh, I just had laser surgery." She touched the root of her plump nose with her fingertips as if she were still wearing glasses. There was a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks.
"So you can see better now."
"Absolutely. For the first time in my life I can see individual leaves on treetops with my naked eyes. I began to wear glasses at seven, and before that, my poor eyesight had always made me think a tree crown was just one block of green, not made of individual leaves. This is wonderful. I can drive without glasses on now."
The door chime rang and two couples stepped in. Christine knew the new arrivals and hurried to greet them. Janet, holding a plate of lox, stopped on her way to the dining room and asked Pingping to help her remove the spinach turnovers from the oven, because she had to go and welcome the guests. Gladly Pingping entered the kitchen, put on a mitt, and began taking out the hors d'oeuvres. After that, she resumed the work left by Janet, mashing avocado to make a dip for corn chips. Janet had cooked the buffet dinner already, and several platters were filled with meats and there were also two large bowls of salads, mixed organic greens. Presently Janet came back and together the two of them started carrying dinner to the oval table in the dining room.
The house was noisy now, ringing with chuckles and chitchat. After everything was ready, Pingping went to join the guests. A rotund man with a domed forehead was sitting alone on a love seat. He looked sleepy on account of his doughy face and thin eyes. Despite his fleshy lips and fair skin, he somehow reminded Pingping of Vladimir Lenin. She went up to him and said pleasantly, "Hi, how are you?"
The man raised his eyes, and his face suddenly tightened, his pupils shifting. He seemed flustered and didn't know how to respond. As Pingping wondered about what to say, a raccoon-faced woman came over with two glasses of red wine. She glared at the man, then asked Pingping sharply, "Can I help you?" The plunging neckline of her dress revealed her tanned cleavage.
Confused, Pingping stammered, "I-I'm Pingping. Janet and Dave are substitute parents for my son." In panic she forgot how to say "legal guardians" in English.
"You mean godparents?" the woman asked, handing a glass to the man.
"Something like that."
"Oh… I'm sorry. I'm Kim and he's my boyfriend, Charlie. So you adopted a baby too."
"No. My son already in middle school."
"I see. Charlie is Hailee's godfather and I'm her godmother."
Pingping thought of mentioning herself as a kind of godmother to the baby too, but refrained. She was amazed that the Mitchells had an unmarried couple as their daughter's godparents. Somehow she felt uncomfortable talking with Kim and Charlie, though she couldn't say why. She was sure Kim had been rude to her just now, so she said a few more words, then went away to play with Hailee.
She didn't enjoy Janet's cooking and ate just a piece of chicken breast and some cherry tomatoes, which she always liked. Yet she had a good time with the baby, who was chewing on a tiny rubber fish. She removed the teether from Hailee's mouth and tried to teach her how to say "Mommy" and "Daddy" in Mandarin, but the girl could speak only one syllable at a time. Hailee laughed a lot, her mouth drooling, and she held Pingping's thumb and dragged her along when she crawled around on the Persian rug. No guests stopped to talk with Pingping, probably assuming she was a nanny. Indeed, she looked as young as if she were in her late twenties.