would sob her eyes out and then plead with him in private, in front of her father, forcing him to apologize. She would tell him over and over that she could not be happier being his slave.
Jim was furious about Jasmine’s attitude toward Lion Head. He called them “a fresh rose misplanted on bullshit.” He spoke to Jasmine of her stupidity. He pointed out Lion Head’s game. Jasmine admitted her love addiction but said she could not help herself. She said Lion Head carried her soul. Without him she would be a walking skeleton.
* * *
I asked Lion Head his idea of an attractive woman. He said that I should ask Jasmine. “Jasmine knows my opinions about women.”
Morning finally cut through the fog. Jasmine showed up in abrown outfit carrying a basket. As her small figure approached, I thought of how long she must have been waiting in the dark.
Jasmine brought Lion Head steamed breads. Lion Head motioned to her to pass one to me. Jasmine offered the basket my way but she was not pleased.
I watched Jasmine as she watched Lion Head eating. A woman in deep desire. I was moved by her. A soulless body. Lion Head, the short man, was the master who owned Jasmine’s soul. Jasmine had the eyes of a female animal during mating season. She stared at Lion Head as if her purpose in life was to attract him. But he had nothing more to do with her after he finished the food. He got up and went to greet other classmates as they began to show up.
Jasmine stood under a tree with her empty basket. She wiped her face with the cloth Lion Head had used to wipe his hands.
* * *
A t seven-thirty Katherine arrived. She wore flowery cotton pants with a yellowish short jacket and matching leather shoes. The spiky top of her hair was brushed forward in the shape of a chrysanthemum. She carried a huge black canvas bag. I forgot about feeling sorry for Jasmine.
I went up to Katherine and said good morning. “Who will be our tour guide to the mountains?” I asked her.
“Jim will be our leader,” said Katherine. “He lived there for seven years as a city youth in a reeducational program during the Cultural Revolution. Is he here yet?”
After Lion Head said hello to Katherine, he turned to me. He was smiling at his own thoughts. I asked him why he was smiling.
“You two look good together,” he said. “You and Katherine.”
“I wish I wore something that wasn’t black,” I said.
“No, don’t change anything,” said Lion Head. “I like the way you two dress. You complement each other.”
“The harmony of our colors?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said, and went to give a cigarette to the bus driver.
I noticed Jasmine staring at me. She was in love with her hatred. She was shredding her basket to pieces.
When Jim arrived, everybody cheered. The bus driver closed the door. It was such an old bus that he had to kick it into gear. In thirty minutes we were out of Shanghai.
Lion Head waved Katherine over to sit beside him. Before she had time to react, Jasmine took the seat. Katherine smiled and took the empty seat next to me. Lion Head leaned forward and asked Katherine if he could borrow her tape player. Katherine lent him the machine and a set of headphones.
Lion Head never took the headphones off his ears the entire trip. He was punishing Jasmine for possessing him.
Jasmine chose not to react. She looked out the window.
* * *
I asked Katherine her impression of Chinese women so far. She said the more she studied, the more she was confused.
“They don’t seem to mind the interviews,” she said, “but they never tell the whole truth. They have this image of themselves and they want me to buy into it. It seems the only form of communication is speaking about the surface.”
“No one tells the truth here,” I said. “You have to figure out where to find the truth.”
“Where?” She was eager.
“Have you read the novel
Dream of the Red Chamber
?” I asked.
“You know, I
Jim was furious about Jasmine’s attitude toward Lion Head. He called them “a fresh rose misplanted on bullshit.” He spoke to Jasmine of her stupidity. He pointed out Lion Head’s game. Jasmine admitted her love addiction but said she could not help herself. She said Lion Head carried her soul. Without him she would be a walking skeleton.
* * *
I asked Lion Head his idea of an attractive woman. He said that I should ask Jasmine. “Jasmine knows my opinions about women.”
Morning finally cut through the fog. Jasmine showed up in abrown outfit carrying a basket. As her small figure approached, I thought of how long she must have been waiting in the dark.
Jasmine brought Lion Head steamed breads. Lion Head motioned to her to pass one to me. Jasmine offered the basket my way but she was not pleased.
I watched Jasmine as she watched Lion Head eating. A woman in deep desire. I was moved by her. A soulless body. Lion Head, the short man, was the master who owned Jasmine’s soul. Jasmine had the eyes of a female animal during mating season. She stared at Lion Head as if her purpose in life was to attract him. But he had nothing more to do with her after he finished the food. He got up and went to greet other classmates as they began to show up.
Jasmine stood under a tree with her empty basket. She wiped her face with the cloth Lion Head had used to wipe his hands.
* * *
A t seven-thirty Katherine arrived. She wore flowery cotton pants with a yellowish short jacket and matching leather shoes. The spiky top of her hair was brushed forward in the shape of a chrysanthemum. She carried a huge black canvas bag. I forgot about feeling sorry for Jasmine.
I went up to Katherine and said good morning. “Who will be our tour guide to the mountains?” I asked her.
“Jim will be our leader,” said Katherine. “He lived there for seven years as a city youth in a reeducational program during the Cultural Revolution. Is he here yet?”
After Lion Head said hello to Katherine, he turned to me. He was smiling at his own thoughts. I asked him why he was smiling.
“You two look good together,” he said. “You and Katherine.”
“I wish I wore something that wasn’t black,” I said.
“No, don’t change anything,” said Lion Head. “I like the way you two dress. You complement each other.”
“The harmony of our colors?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said, and went to give a cigarette to the bus driver.
I noticed Jasmine staring at me. She was in love with her hatred. She was shredding her basket to pieces.
When Jim arrived, everybody cheered. The bus driver closed the door. It was such an old bus that he had to kick it into gear. In thirty minutes we were out of Shanghai.
Lion Head waved Katherine over to sit beside him. Before she had time to react, Jasmine took the seat. Katherine smiled and took the empty seat next to me. Lion Head leaned forward and asked Katherine if he could borrow her tape player. Katherine lent him the machine and a set of headphones.
Lion Head never took the headphones off his ears the entire trip. He was punishing Jasmine for possessing him.
Jasmine chose not to react. She looked out the window.
* * *
I asked Katherine her impression of Chinese women so far. She said the more she studied, the more she was confused.
“They don’t seem to mind the interviews,” she said, “but they never tell the whole truth. They have this image of themselves and they want me to buy into it. It seems the only form of communication is speaking about the surface.”
“No one tells the truth here,” I said. “You have to figure out where to find the truth.”
“Where?” She was eager.
“Have you read the novel
Dream of the Red Chamber
?” I asked.
“You know, I
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