"Kin-kin I borra some juice from ya?" Gerald asked Nan, apparently embarrassed.
"Orange juice?"
"No. I mean 'lectricity."
"Oh, what happened to your house? Your power isn't back yet?"
"No. I called 'em. They said they gonna come work on it tomorra."
"How can you borrow electricity?" Nan was puzzled, though he knew Georgia Power must have cut off Gerald's supply because of unpaid bills.
"I kin connec' a cord to your carpo't."
"I see." Indeed, there was a wall outlet near the side door of the house. "Two days. You don't have to borrow it from us. I can let you use zer line for two days."
"Two days're plenty. I'll git my powa back by then."
Gerald looked hungry and probably had not cooked that day. As a matter of fact the Wus hadn't seen him for a long time. He wouldn't come out of his house nowadays, as if in hibernation, though their neighbor Alan would bang on Gerald's door to remind him that his lawn needed mowing or that he should trim his trees. Gerald would rejoin, "I'll take care of that when I feel like. I won't be push' around by nobody." But he never did anything to put his property in order, except that once in a while he cut his grass with a tractor mower. When he drove that thing in his front yard, he'd kick up a thundering din and clouds of dust. To show his gratitude to the Wus, he once mowed their lawn with his machine as well, but its blades had been set so low that after the mowing, the grass turned yellow and shriveled for many days. So Pingping begged him to leave their lawn alone.
By nature Gerald was a kind fellow and a sort of craftsman, always ready to give a hand to someone. He'd get on Mrs. Lodge's roof and blow down leaves for her. He had laid drainage pipes for the Utleys, a retired couple living a few houses down the street, so that rainwater could flow directly into the lake instead of sluicing and furrowing the roadside and their yard. Also, he had helped two families set their hardwood floors. People in the neighborhood went to those houses to look at the superb work, and everyone agreed that Gerald had done "a beautiful job." Yet he simply wouldn't bother about his own property, perhaps because no one would pay him for working on it.
"The other day I saw his ex-wife and daughter in his front yard," Pingping told Nan after Gerald left.
"What's she like?"
"She looks very young, with permed hair. She waits tables at the Waffle House near Berkmar High School."
"But I remember Gerald once said his ex was older than he was."
" I guess she is, but she really looks young and pretty. She said she couldn't stand Gerald because he always collected too much junk. She called him a 'pack rat.' "
"That can't be the reason for the divorce."
" She also said he used to drink a lot. "
"But he isn't an alcoholic anymore."
"She seemed happy without him. Maybe she has another man now, I don't know. His daughter looked happy too."
Nan turned the tap and let warm water fall into a plastic bucket, in which he was going to bathe his feet. Tonight he was too tired to take a shower, which he'd do tomorrow morning. He thought about Gerald's situation and realized that if his life were like that fellow's, he might have killed himself by now. In a way, Gerald was tough. Nan felt fortunate that he could hold his family together.
8
THE MITCHELLS came back with their daughter, and the Wus went to see them the next morning. Dave and Janet lived in a mansion secluded away in a cul-de-sac. A private driveway crossed a wooden bridge and led to their front yard, where a thin pine tree was lying beside a marble birdbath, felled by the storm a few days before. A beige portico supported a balustered balcony at the main entrance to their Victorian house, which boasted a sloping turret and arched windows. Their home was one of the most expensive in Breezewood Park, a subdivision off Five Forks Road.
With delight the Mitchells received Pingping and Nan. Despite exhaustion, Janet and Dave were in high spirits and both seemed to have shrunk a little, probably withered by the heat in Nanjing. The floor of the nursery was strewn with stuffed animals, among which was a puppy, lying on its stomach, its long ears touching the rug. There was also a miniature toy elephant sitting on its ass with its trunk raised above its head, and beside it was a bassinet, maybe already too small for the baby. Hailee was lying in the crib, half wrapped in a red blanket. Now and again she prattled and put out a hand, which reminded Pingping of a tiny fresh bun. The baby was happy and comfortable, as if eager to talk to the grown-ups bending over her. In every way she was an ordinary Chinese infant, with slightly chafed cheeks and almond-shaped eyes, at the corners of which gathered a bit of crust. Despite her strong bone structure and energetic voice, Hailee didn't look healthy. Janet said that the child had suffered from pneumonia in the past spring, which was the actual reason their trip had been postponed, and that she was going to take her to the doctor early the next week.
Dave's face was flushed with happiness, his large forehead shinier than before. When he held the baby, Pingping thought his big hands might squash her, but he was careful and let Janet hold Hailee most of the time. He often followed his wife around when the baby was in her arms. The two couples returned to coffee in the living room. The Mitchells said their trip to China had been an eye-opener. The country wasn't as backward as they'd thought and most people seemed to live comfortably there, and everywhere there was construction under way. Among the American visitors there was a joke that said China 's national bird was the building crane. Obviously the country was developing rapidly. Janet asked Pingping and Nan why the Chinese in Nanjing looked different from those in American Chinatowns. In Nanjing and Shanghai they had seen a lot of handsome men and women. Girls were slim and had smooth skin, often dressed to the nines, and many young men were well built, some athletic. The Mitchells couldn't figure out why the Chinese here seemed like a different race. Pingping told them that if they'd gone to the countryside, they'd have met many people who bore more resemblance to the residents in Chinatowns. The truth was that nowadays young people in the big cities had better nutrition, so they grew taller than their parents.
"Don't Chinese kids eat nutritious food here?" asked Dave. "Still they look so different from the people in China."
"Maybe zeir genes have been Americanized," said Nan with a straight face.
"Then they should be bigger and taller," Dave went on.
They all laughed. Pingping explained that most people in Chinatown originally came from the southern coastal provinces, where people ate rice and didn't grow as tall as a result of the hot climate and the diet. Generally speaking, northerners are taller than southerners, but weren't Shanghai and Nanjing in the south, where people should be shorter? Hard as they tried, neither Nan nor Pingping could come up with a convincing explanation, though they believed the Mitchells' observation must be right. They too had noticed some physical differences between the Chinatown Chinese and those in mainland China.
The Mitchells showed them a lot of photos they'd taken on the trip, of temples, parks, English corners, the staff at the orphanage, banquets, and also of the girl baby they'd had to give up. Janet brought out another album, with plastic sleeves containing memorabilia for Hailee, among which, in addition to small artwork like colorful feather bookmarks and cut-paper creatures wrapped in onionskin, there were even the stubs of their plane tickets, taxi receipts, and a small map of Nanjing City. Pingping was so touched that she couldn't stop thinking what a lucky girl Hailee was, and her eyes filmed over with tears for a good minute.