A few times Director Liao wanted to pay Nimei for the fish, but she refused to accept any money from him, saying, “It’s my job to take care of my patients.”
Gradually the director and Jiang Bing got to know each other. Every day after Liao finished dinner, Jiang would stay an hour or two, chatting with the leader, who unfailingly turned talkative after a good meal. The nurses were amazed that the patient in Room 3 had mellowed so much. When they asked Nimei why her husband came at dinnertime every day, she said that Liao and Jiang Bing knew each other from before. Of course nobody believed her, but the nurses were glad that at last the patient’s manners and attitude became wholesome, and even avuncular. Nimei claimed Director Liao paid for the fish he ate.
The bricks arrived, a cartful of them, drawn over by three Mongolian ponies. Nimei paid for them promptly and gave the driver two packs of Great Production cigarettes.
For an entire weekend the couple leveled the ground and laid the bricks. Nimei wanted the yard to be paved neatly, so Jiang Bing hammered wooden stakes into the dirt and tied white threads to them to make sure the bricks would be set in straight lines. It was an unusually hot day for the fall, and the couple were soaked with sweat. Nimei’s mother cooked a large pot of mung bean soup for them, to relieve their inner heat and prevent sunstroke. She put white sugar into the soup and ladled it into five bowls, which were placed on a long bench to cool.
The work was done and Nimei was pleased, despite her painful back. But her mother tottered around with her bound feet, muttering, “What a waste of money! We’ve never used such good bricks for a house.”
Nimei ignored her, too exhausted to talk, while Jiang Bing was sipping a bowl of soup, his bony shoulders stooping more than before. A lock of hair, sweaty and gray, stuck to his flat forehead. The sweat-stained back of his shirt looked like an old map. A few maple seeds swirled in the air like helicopter blades while a pair of magpies clamored atop the ridge of the gable roof. Nimei’s mother kept saying, “We’ll have to spend a lot of money for winter vegetables, and we ought to save for the Spring Festival.”
Save your breath, old hag! thought Nimei.
The next day she bought two large pots of wild roses and had them placed on both sides of the front gate. She assigned her daughter to water the flowers every morning.
Director Liao was going to leave the hospital in two days. He was grateful to the couple and even said they had treated him better than his family.
On Tuesday afternoon he had the head nurse called in. He said, “Nimei, I can’t thank you enough!”
“It’s my job. Please don’t mention it.”
“I’ve told the hospital’s leaders that they should elect you a model nurse this year. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, I don’t need anything,” she said. “Jiang Bing and I are very happy that you’ve recovered so soon.”
“Ah yes, how about Young Jiang? Can I do something for him?”
She pretended to think for a minute. “Well, maybe. He’s worked in the same office for almost ten years. He may want a change. But don’t tell him I said this or he’ll be mad at me.”
“I won’t say a word. Do you think he wants to leave the hospital?”
“No, he likes it here. Just moving him to another office would be enough.”
“Is there a position open?”
“Yes, there are two — the Personnel and the Security sections haven’t had directors for months.”
“Good. I’m going to write a note to the hospital leaders. They’ll take my suggestion seriously. Tell Young Jiang I’ll miss his fish.”
They both laughed.
Everything seemed to be going as Nimei had planned. Hsu Peng had written back and said he would be happy to come to her house for tea. She was certain Jiang Bing’s promotion would work out, because none of the hospital leaders would dare disobey Director Liao, whose department decided their promotions and demotions. If Jiang Bing became the chief of a section, he’d hold a rank equal to a vice regimental commander’s, which, although still several ranks lower than Hsu Peng’s, shouldn’t be too unpresentable. True, the promotion hadn’t materialized yet, but she could be confident it was already in the works. In addition, her daughter had just been notified that a nursing school in Jilin City had admitted her. Nimei felt she could finally meet Hsu Peng without embarrassment.
On the evening of September 29, a Beijing jeep pulled up at the Jiangs’ gate. At the sound of the motor, Nimei got up, patting her permed hair, and went out to receive the guest. To her surprise, two soldiers walked in, one shouldering a kraft-paper parcel and the other holding a large, green plastic gasoline can. “Is this Head Nurse Nimei’s home?” one of them asked.
“Yes,” she said eagerly, her left hand fingering the belt of her chemise, which was flowered and brand-new. Her husband came out and joined her.
The taller soldier declared, “Our commissar cannot come this evening. He’s very sorry. He has to accompany Commander Chen of Shenyang Military Region to a party.”
“Oh.” Nimei was too flustered to say another word.
The man went on, “Commissar Hsu ordered us to deliver the fish and the soy oil to you for National Day.” With two thuds they dropped the parcel and the can on a low table in the yard.
“Will he be coming to see us?” she asked.
“No. We’re leaving for Harbin on the earliest train tomorrow morning.”
“Who’s this commissar?” Jiang Bing asked his wife.
“A former patient of mine, as I told you,” she managed to reply. She turned to the soldiers. “Tell your leader we thank him.”
“How much?” Jiang Bing asked them, still puzzled.
“Our commissar said not to take any money.”
The young men turned and went out. Then came a long honk and children’s cries — the jeep was drawing away.
The parcel was unwrapped and four salmon appeared, each weighing at least fifteen pounds. One of them still had a three-inch hook stuck through its nostril, with a short piece of fishing line attached to the hook’s eye. “Oh my, what sort of fish are these?” asked Nimei’s mother, mouthing a long pipe and smiling broadly. The boy and the girl gathered at the table, watching their father spreading the gills to see the scarlet color inside.
“These are salmon, Mother,” said Jiang Bing. Then he announced with a thrill in his voice, “They’re as fresh as if they were alive! Too bad Director Liao has left the hospital. These are the best fish, but he doesn’t have the luck.” He asked his wife, “How come I’ve never met this commissar?”
“He commands an armored division somewhere in Harbin. The fish and the oil probably didn’t cost him anything, I guess.” She felt like weeping.
“Of course not. If you have power, you can always get the best stuff free.” He flicked a bluebottle away with his fingers. “Songshan, get me the largest basin, quick.”
The boy turned, a half-eaten peach in his hand, and ran toward their shack to fetch the washbasin.
Nimei couldn’t suppress her tears anymore. She hurried into the house and threw herself on her bed. She broke out sobbing, unsure whether Hsu Peng had ever intended to visit her.
A Bad Joke
At last the two jokers were captured. They didn’t know the police were after them, so they had come to town without any suspicion. The instant they entered Everyday Hardware, a group of policemen sprang at them, pinned them to the cement floor, and handcuffed them from behind. With stupefied faces smeared by sawdust, they screamed, “You’re making a mistake, Comrade Policemen! We didn’t steal anything!”