As the summer vacation was approaching, some faculty members planned to go elsewhere to escape the sweltering heat. From Aifeng, we learned that she and Mrs. Dennison were leaving for Shanghai soon, and from there they would travel north by ship to a beach resort on Bohai Bay. This news gladdened Minnie, because she believed that once they left, she’d be able to live in Eva’s bungalow for the rest of the summer.
It rained on and off for a whole night — enough to revive the withered shrubs and flowers on campus, but not enough to flood the paddies so rice seedlings could be planted, which should have been done two months before. Farmers had been having a tough time this spring. Besides the drought, the turmoil of the war still persisted. During the day many Japanese planes flew by to drop bombs outside the city. It was said that the guerrillas had been active in the vicinity of Nanjing, but the Japanese were determined to keep them away. For a whole week gunfire could be heard in the south.
Mrs. Dennison and Aifeng left a few days later, together with Ban. The boy had never been to Shanghai, so Mrs. Dennison, who was childless, wanted him to visit the metropolis. She was fond of him, having seen him grow up.
On the same day they left, Minnie moved into Eva’s bungalow. She was excited to have the entire house to herself now, but when I went to see her the next evening, she said the place felt somewhat isolated. She wasn’t sure she would like it.
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TO OUR ASTONISHMENT, Mrs. Dennison came back with Ban a week later. Her return embarrassed Minnie, and yet it would be humiliating to move out of the bungalow right away.
Though flustered, Minnie decided to stay in the house with Mrs. Dennison in Aifeng’s absence. Aifeng had gone alone to the beach resort in the north to meet her fiancé there. Mrs. Dennison showed no sign of resentment and only told us, “There’s so much to do here that I’d better not leave — I won’t have a summer vacation anymore. I’m used to the heat here anyway.” She still had her personal possessions in the bungalow and hardly needed to unpack.
Minnie soon realized that she couldn’t possibly live under the same roof with the old woman for the whole summer, sharing breakfast and supper with her every day, so Minnie applied for a permit from the city’s travel office.
The permit arrived the following week. Minnie decided to go to Tsingtao by way of Shanghai, because it would be easier to travel by boat from there. We all were surprised by her sudden decision to spend the summer elsewhere. Rulian decided to give her a picnic send-off at the poultry center and invited seven other young faculty members and me. The main course was zongzi, pyramid-shaped dumplings made of glutinous rice, dates, peanuts, and ham. There were also steamed shrimp, sautéed vegetables, and fresh dates. Minnie loved zongzi and peeled away the reed leaves, which were wrapped around the rice to give it an herby aroma, but she wouldn’t dip it into a plate of brown sugar as we did. She said she liked the natural flavor better. In the center of the table stood a glass jar holding daisies mixed with young dog-tail grass. The flowers were delicate and fluffy, each displaying a disk of white petals that surrounded a golden heart, and they gave off a faint fragrance. Rulian had thoughtfully asked Old Liao to cut a bunch.
It had rained heavily the night before; the air was washed clean and shimmering a little. A few gnats were flickering around. Rulian had not invited Mrs. Dennison. Minnie enjoyed socializing with the young faculty. If Mrs. Dennison were here, Minnie wouldn’t have had a peaceful meal. These days, whenever the two of them ran into each other, the old woman would smirk, probably relishing her small victory in chasing Minnie out of the bungalow. I also noticed that Mrs. Dennison would speak louder, with forced cheerfulness, whenever Minnie happened to be within hearing, as if everybody were her friend. I knew the crone meant to provoke her.
THE WEEK AFTER Minnie left, I again heard from Holly. To my surprise, she was in the Zhenjiang area now, working at a refugee relief center. She invited me to visit, saying she lived outside Gaozi, a suburban town that had a train station. Not having seen her for more than a year, I was eager to visit, so I set out a few days later, taking the train early in the morning. It was just a thirty-mile trip to the east, and I brought two pounds of barley taffy along with an umbrella, as it was cloudy.
The refugee relief center was easy to find, in a village outside the town of Gaozi. Holly was ecstatic to see me. She hugged me for half a minute, as if afraid I might disappear the instant she released me. She took me to a ramshackle cottage, into a room she shared with a young woman named Siuchin, whom Holly had mentioned in her letters as her friend. Siuchin turned up a moment later, fetched a thermos of boiled water, and began brewing tea in a porcelain pot. She was tall and had a squarish face, in her mid-twenties. Untying the thin paper string, Holly opened the package I’d brought and poured some of the barley taffy, each piece covered with sesame seeds, onto an enamel plate. I observed her closely and found her aged a bit but in full health, her eyes brighter and her broad face more vivid, though it showed more wrinkles when she smiled. Siuchin had to leave to finish wrapping some iodine tablets, so after telling Holly she would arrange lunch, she went out with a fistful of the taffy.
It was already past midmorning, and Holly and I were reminiscing about people we both knew while munching the sticky candy. I usually don’t like sweets that much, but, affected by my friend’s great relish, I kept chewing one piece after another. Holly remembered Minnie fondly for her big kind heart and straightforwardness, and she also praised Rulian as a fine young woman, mild and gracious. I saw Holly’s violin in its sky-blue case hanging on the wall; a Bible sat below the instrument on her bed, which was just a sheet spread over a blanket and a straw mattress on some boards supported by three small trestles. The Bible, bound in morocco, was the only book in the room. It was the American Standard Version, which I hadn’t read yet, since I always used the King James version. Amazed, I asked, “You belong to a denomination now?”
“No, I’m still on my own.” Holly smiled, the same old nonchalance on her heavy-boned face. “So far I’ve always attached myself to a mission group for protection.”
“But you dip into the Scriptures.”
“Sometimes I enjoy reading them.”
“Then why not join the church?”
“Do I need an institution to communicate with God?”
I closed my eyes and announced: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” I paused and opened my eyes to look at her.
“Gosh, you sound like a priest.”
“For the nonce I am a bishop.” I chuckled, then went on, “Even if you don’t need the church, you still need Christ, don’t you?”
“That’s why I’ve been looking for him.”
“So you’ve been wandering around in search of the Lord?”
“I also look for him in my heart.”
“You’re a strange woman, Holly.”
“That I won’t deny. It was an irony that the Japanese burned my house and set me free.”