Nanjing Requiem Read online

  Heartened by Alice’s support, Minnie talked with Searle Bates. He had spent a summer in Japan three years ago and liked the country, though he was still documenting the Japanese war crimes and exposing their manipulation of the narcotics trade as a way to weaken the Chinese mentally and physically. He worked as an official of Nanjing University now, in charge of the school’s properties, because as a foreigner he could deal with the Japanese in person. Searle thought that the trip was a good idea and added that it would be more productive if some Chinese could speak at seminaries and colleges in Japan, but he was unsure if we could get the travel papers. The Japanese military meant to keep the truth of the Nanjing atrocities from spreading internationally and might deny citizens here entry to Japan, where the war was being propagated as seisen, “sacred war,” waged against communism and Western colonialism and led by the emperor himself.

  To Minnie’s amazement, the young Chinese faculty members received the idea of the reconciliatory trip warmly. Both Shanna and Rulian were happy at the prospect of visiting Japan. They each spoke English well and were appropriate candidates to accompany me. Minnie and I discussed the matter with Yoguchi on his next visit. The man smiled and said, “Don’t worry about the travel permits. We’ll try to get them. We have some pull at the embassy. You know Mr. Tanaka?”

  “Yes, he’s better than the other officials,” Minnie replied, though we hadn’t seen him for months.

  “Tanaka is a Christian. This is just between us.” Yoguchi put his bony hand on a large package sent to Jinling’s nursery by the kindergarten of a church in Nagasaki. He had come to deliver the gifts today.

  “Oh, no wonder Tanaka was so helpful,” I said. “We won’t breathe a word about him, of course.”

  We then talked about how to fund the trip. Yoguchi said he could get some money from a Christian association, but it might not be enough to cover all the expenses. Minnie told him that she would look for funds too. “For the time being,” she said, “let’s split the cost fifty-fifty.”

  “That’s fine. I hope we can work this one out.”

  We thought that Jinling should sponsor the trip, since we had quite a bit of cash at the moment. But when we broached this subject without mentioning me as part of it, Mrs. Dennison said, “No, we won’t give a penny. If Shanna and Rulian want to visit Japan, they should pay for the trip out of their own pockets, or the Japanese side should pick up the bill. We must spend every yuan on restoring our college.”

  “I want to go with them too,” I blurted out.

  The old woman looked amazed. “Why do you want to be part of this? What’s in it for you?”

  “I want to see what that country’s like,” I mumbled. “To know the enemy is a necessary step toward victory.”

  “But you’re not an officer.”

  Minnie said, “Rulian and Shanna were your students, Mrs. Dennison.” She must have assumed that the old woman resented her friendly relations with the young faculty members.

  “That’s why I won’t play favorites,” the old woman responded.

  “We have a good amount of cash now, and I cannot see why we shouldn’t sponsor the trip,” Minnie said.

  “Remember we’ve both agreed to devote all our efforts and resources to rebuilding the college.”

  “Their visit to Japan will help improve the communication and mutual understanding between the Japanese and the Chinese. That’s more meaningful and necessary—I mean, to make peace. Besides, our delegates will find ways to form relations with the churches there, and our direct contact with Japan will strengthen our college’s position here in the long run. In other words, this trip would also help to rebuild Jinling.”

  “I just don’t want to deal with the Japanese. They’ve done enough damage. I would also warn you not to mix too much with them.”

  “What do you mean?” Minnie asked.

  “The Japanese are the enemy of the Chinese. If you get too chummy with them, you will arouse animosity among our employees and make us vulnerable. You need to be more careful about receiving Japanese visitors.”

  “That’s ludicrous.” Minnie flung up her hand. “The Chinese know I love China and work only in their interest.”

  “Then you should concentrate on restoring our college. This is the best we can do for this country.”

  “You’re too obsessed with the restoration.”

  “To be frank, obsession is what you lack. You always want to be praised by everybody, but you don’t understand that no human being can please everybody. Worse still, you don’t get much done—you’re just busy all the time.”

  “Do you mean I’m not efficient?”

  “Also inadequate.” The old woman’s eyes flared while her face remained wooden.

  At this point Ban poked his head in the door. “Yes, what do you want?” Mrs. Dennison asked him.

  “Mr. Yoguchi wants to see Miss Vautrin.”

  Minnie glanced at the old woman’s smirking face, then stood and went out to see the visitor. I wondered if I should follow her, but resisted. Mrs. Dennison seemed to have known of our travel plans beforehand and was intent on thwarting them. She had been to Japan before the war and been deeply impressed by it. It was “clean, charming, and well ordered,” in her own words. What’s more, she believed in the exchange of ideas and information. That was why she had always encouraged faculty members to visit foreign countries during the summer and even had funds earmarked for that purpose when she was in office. Why this sea change in her attitude? Why had she become so hostile to the trip? She seemed determined to scuttle whatever Minnie attempted to accomplish.

  Disappointed, I just sat there without saying a word. How I wished I could go see my grandson Shin.

  Finally Mrs. Dennison said, “We cannot keep Minnie Vautrin here anymore. She has become an obstacle.”

  Those words astounded me. When I later told Minnie what the ex-president had said, she frowned and wondered aloud, “What’s next? What do you think she might do?”

  “I’ve no clue,” I said. “But don’t provoke her. Remember what I told you? Wait patiently till the day the bride becomes the mother-in-law.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to keep cool.”

  Despite her frustration, Minnie attempted to be conciliatory toward Mrs. Dennison. For better or worse, the two of them would have to work together until Dr. Wu came back from Chengdu; our college could not afford to be polarized by their conflict. Minnie also said it felt like it was beneath her to quarrel with the old woman. Indeed, in people’s eyes Minnie was like a saint, the Goddess of Mercy, and she must not diminish herself with petty squabbles.

  We did not discourage Yoguchi from getting the travel papers for Rulian, Shanna, and me. Minnie said she would raise funds for us if necessary. For the time being, there was too much to do before Christmas. If we went to Japan, it would not be until the summer.

  46

  ON SUNDAY, the day before Christmas, Big Liu came to the president’s office and flopped into a chair. “Meiyan and Luhai ran away,” he croaked. “I didn’t mean to spoil your holiday mood, Minnie, but I thought you should know so you could find someone for the job left by Luhai.”

  “Heavens, you mean they just eloped?” Minnie asked.

  “I don’t know if they’re close like a couple. Apparently Luhai has been a bad influence and misled her. The girl has been in terrible shape ever since she was taken by the Japanese.”

  “She must’ve been traumatized.”

  “She’s hatred itself and kept saying China needed a revolution if we wanted to defeat Japan.” Big Liu’s face contorted as if he were suppressing a hiccup caused by heartburn.

  “Do you think she’s really fond of Luhai?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell, but she said they were just friends. Luhai must have connections with some resistance force. Who could’ve imagined he would abandon his family? I just hope he’ll treat Meiyan well, but that man has shifty eyes—he’s not reliable.”

  “Are you going to hunt them dow
n?” Minnie said.

  “Where would I look? She’s grown enough to choose her own way of living.”

  “Luhai’s family must be in a muddle.” Minnie turned to me. “Should we do something for his wife and kids?”

  “Maybe we should,” I said.

  The door opened and Donna stepped in, holding a letter. “Minnie,” she panted, “this is for you.”

  “From whom?” Minnie took it.

  “A young boy handed it to me and said it was from Ban, who left with Luhai. I was told to give it to you immediately.”

  “You mean Ban also ran away?” I asked Donna, whose face was flushed.

  “Apparently so.”

  Minnie unfolded the sheet of yellow paper and found that Luhai had written the letter in English. I knew he had often perused the North China Daily News and other English papers, but I’d never heard him speak the language, which I’d been unsure he could read. Probably he had composed the letter in English to keep other Chinese from learning its contents. Nonetheless, Minnie read it out loud to us:

  Dear Dean Vautrin:

  Meiyan, Ban, and I decide to escape Nanjing. We want to be in the force fighting for our motherland, so we prepare to sacrifice everything, including family. If the country is lost, our home can not be same any more and our individual success mean nothing. Please do not trouble yourself and find us, because we are going very, very far away, under different name. But I have favors a favor to beg you—please give some helps to my wife and children, because I can do nothing for them from today on. One day I shall return like a fighter and a hero. Thank you from bottom of my heart. I shall remember your kindness forever.

  Donna burst into laughter. “What kind of nonsense is that?” she snorted. “A man dumped his wife and kids on the pretext of sacrificing for his country.”

  “The rascal is shameless,” Big Liu grunted.

  “This is a bizarre letter,” Minnie admitted. “But why would Ban flee with them as well?”

  “That boy hates the Japanese,” I said.

  “Where do you think they might go?” Minnie asked.

  “I’ve no idea,” Big Liu answered. “I hope they won’t head for the Communists’ base in Yan’an. Meiyan said she’d join any kind of resistance force as long as she could get out of Nanjing.”

  “By why did the three of them flee together?” I said.

  “Luhai was unhappy about his marriage, because his parents had picked his wife for him,” replied Big Liu.

  Donna tittered, her face shiny and slightly fleshy. “So to fight an invader is a fine solution to marital trouble.”

  “Stop it, Donna,” Minnie said. “Don’t be so sarcastic. I don’t think Luhai ran away because he wanted to dump his family. He’s not that kind of man.”

  “That’s true,” I chimed in. “He wants to fight the Japanese, and so must Meiyan and Ban.”

  We all agreed that no matter what, we ought to do something for Luhai’s wife. So Minnie and I went to see Mrs. Dennison to brief her about the runaways. To our relief, the old woman suggested that Jinling offer Fuwan, Luhai’s wife, a hundred yuan and persuade her to return to her folks in the countryside. We both felt this would be a reasonable solution.

  “Son of a gun!” Mrs. Dennison said about Ban. “He took off without leaving me a word.”

  With little difficulty, I convinced Fuwan to leave for her parents’ home. The poor woman, her eyes puffy, said that she was tired of city life anyway—if she stayed here, her two small sons might grow up to be bad like their father. In addition, Nanjing was such a horrible place that she was often depressed, so she wouldn’t mind returning to the countryside.

  But a week later Luhai’s father, a trim man with beetle eyebrows, came from Shenyang to fetch his grandsons. He claimed that nobody could separate his grandkids from him and his wife. Fuwan and the boys left with him on the sly. This baffled us, and Mrs. Dennison regretted having given away a hundred yuan too easily.

  With the old woman’s approval, Minnie offered Big Liu the business manager’s job left open by Luhai’s departure, but Big Liu wouldn’t take it, saying he preferred to teach. He had a good reputation as a teacher and used to be on the faculty of the language school, which had shut down long ago. Since there were more foreign academics and diplomats in town now, he could have earned more than his current salary—fifty yuan a month—by offering Chinese lessons (we all drew eighty percent of our normal pay now). To our relief, he told Minnie a few days later that he would continue working as Jinling’s Chinese secretary, because he felt this was more meaningful and also it was safer for his family to stay on campus. Mr. Rong, the assistant manager, was promoted to the position abandoned by Luhai.

  AFTER THE NEW YEAR a bullnecked man named Boren, a friend of Luhai’s, came to see Mrs. Dennison and Minnie. He lived in the neighborhood and had always been hostile to Jinling and the local missionary groups. He had come to visit Luhai every once in a while. Boren was respected by the locals as a community leader of sorts and had been quite vocal about the missionary work, which he believed had brought about chaos in China. He had disliked Miss Lou and accused her of always toadying to the foreigners. He and I had never been on good terms either. But the moment he sat down in the president’s office, he was all smiles and even thanked me as I poured tea for him from a red clay teapot. He told us that the fall of our city had changed him, because Jinling had sheltered his family of seven for four months while he was away in Hunan Province taking care of his bedridden mother. His home, which was three hundred years old, had been burned down by the Japanese, and most of his antique furniture had been fed to the bonfire in the center of his courtyard.

  He wanted to sell us a piece of land because he needed cash. His dog had snapped at a Japanese soldier’s heel and gotten its master into trouble. The bite was nothing serious, just two tiny punctures on the foot, but the Japanese police had hauled Boren in and beaten him up, despite his promise to kill the dog and let them have its meat.

  “I sent everything, including its skin, to those bastards,” Boren said, “but they still won’t leave me alone. They said I had disabled a soldier and must accept the full consequences.”

  “What does that mean?” Minnie said.

  “I asked a friend of mine. He suggested I spend some money to appease the Japanese. But I don’t have any cash on hand. Everybody’s hard up for cash these days. My neighbor works in a factory and is paid in pots and ladles because they can’t ship their products out of Nanjing anymore. Every evening he has to peddle utensils downtown. If your school can buy a piece of land from me, you’ll save my life, and also my family.”

  This came as a surprise. Both Mrs. Dennison and Minnie were intrigued. When the college was being founded, the old president had tried in vain to purchase land from Boren’s father; now this offer could be an opportunity, but Mrs. Dennison and Minnie wanted to look at the property again before deciding.

  47

  A FEW DAYS LATER we set out for the southwestern end of Jinling’s property to see the land Boren was offering. Apple and pear trees were bulky despite their leafless branches, and in the depths of the orchard some rooks were cawing like crazy. Old Liao appeared, trundling a load of bricks in a wheelbarrow. Even on such a wintry day the gardener wouldn’t stop working. He seemed ignorant of idleness, a typical peasant. Pointing at a path he’d newly paved with bricks, Mrs. Dennison said, “Nice job.” The man smiled without a word, then nodded at Minnie.

  The land Boren offered was bumpy and overgrown with brambles, different from what we had expected. It would have to be leveled before it could be used. Also, because it was separated from Jinling’s property by a brook, it wouldn’t be easy to incorporate the land into the campus unless our college owned a length of the stream as well. Mrs. Dennison puckered her brow while the outer corners of her eyes drooped. I could tell she had misgivings.

  “We will discuss this with the trustees and will let you know our answer soon,” Mrs. Dennison told Boren.


  “Sure, no need to rush,” he said.

  When the two women talked about the offer again, Mrs. Dennison was against buying it, saying it was just an acre of wasteland. Actually, it was 1.3 acres, at half price—four hundred yuan. Despite its bumpiness and its separation from our campus, Minnie believed we should jump at this opportunity. She said to Mrs. Dennison, “We’ll figure out how to use the land eventually. Let’s grab it.”

  “No. At this time we mustn’t acquire anything we don’t need.”

  “We have the money.”

  “We must be frugal. The renovation will cost a fortune. You never know where an extra amount will have to be put up.”

  “Please, it’s just four hundred yuan, a bargain.”

  “No, I don’t want it.”

  “I’m the dean of this college—my opinion doesn’t count at all?”

  “Well, I don’t have to listen to you.”

  “Don’t you remember how hard you used to haggle with those landowners over tiny parcels of land?”

  “That was then. Things have changed and we have to concentrate on the task at hand.”

  “Since when have you become so shortsighted?”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Can’t you see this is a windfall? We’ll need a lot of land for future development.”

  “I don’t want to spend the money now.”

  “It’s not your money.”

  “Neither is it yours. If you love that piece of dirt so much, why not buy it for yourself?”

  Mrs. Dennison’s last sentence put Minnie in mind of acquiring the land on her own. She talked with me about this. Since she wanted to spend the rest of her life here, she could build her home on that slope beside the babbling brook. From that spot you could see a good part of campus and enjoy peace and quiet. If the college provided her with a bungalow someday, the land still wouldn’t be wasted—she could donate it to Jinling or build a small folk school on it. She had been making one hundred yuan a month since the previous winter and had saved about eleven hundred yuan, too little to build her own house. But she would save more and buy the lot first.