英文小说：A Shadow in Surfers Paradise (30) 天堂之影

洋八路

Chapter 30




It was Sunday morning. He was heading to the canteen for breakfast, when Vivian intercepted him and asked to go the park after his meal. She usually returned to school in the late afternoon, so seeing her presence at this hour was a small surprise, although she had not adhered as much as before to her fixed schedule of going home once a week since they started dating.

On their way to Lu Xun Park, Bing gave her a fresh morning kiss. Then, she released herself from his embrace, smiling at him yet with a sombreness that seemed to cast a cloud over her beautiful eyes. And she said, ‘Bing, I love you.’

He was started a little, not by the mere words but by the way and the chance she had expressed it, which was indeed the first time she had said it so directly, and voluntarily, and affectionately, and almost suddenly, without much a prelude.

‘I love you too,’ he kissed her once more. ‘Vivian, have you had your breakfast?’

‘Yes, I had some at home.’

‘Vivian, what is the matter? You look pale.’ He was alarmed, and halted his steps. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Don’t worry, I am fine,’ she replied, clutching his hand to resume their trip on the path they had sauntered many times. It had rained last night, or in the early morning. The fresh air and the wet road, and the streaks of sunlight breaking from the clouds were the best weather symptoms Bing had ever experienced in this city. The clear and blue and white-clouded sky in his village was hardly a scene in Shanghai, but it mattered the least, now that in this place he had come across a love that was insuperable by any pleasure in his memory.

‘Bing, I am pregnant,’ she said.

He paused, and gazed at her in disbelief. Yet she was calm, not displaying a trace of kidding. ‘How? How do you know?’

She said, ‘I tested and got the result this morning,’ and grasped his waist and pressed him to keep on walking,

Upon the news his feeling was complicated. His first surprise and worry seemed to have lasted only a short while, before they were overcome by a type of strange, unbounded exaltation. Somehow, he felt that through her pregnancy he had finally become her man, perhaps the only man in her world, and that, after his not infrequent uncertainty and distrust of her love, after so much craving for her in all those days and nights, he had at last claimed her, and successfully owned her whole body, and her soul. Ah, the girl beside him, must well be his wife. What an idea! What a consummation! And to think her large eyes with so much life and pride would then be flashing only to him, exclusively, and infinitely!

But he didn’t say a word, nor did his brain have the wit or a chance to analyse how and when she got pregnant.  With his left arm he hugged her closer, and walked on, and Vivian, docile like a lamb in his nestle, didn’t convey more of her own concerns or thoughts, as if silence was better than any words.

Then, suddenly he stopped to wrap his arms around her, embraced her, and kissed her with a new wave of affection, which he believed must be to a wife from a husband.

The park, with few people strolling about, was exceptionally quiet. The wetness and coolness must have prevented the Shanghai citizens from coming to use it. The ground was damp and a little slippery; the patterns made of dark pebbles were glistening; and the raindrops that lingered waveringly on the leaves and twigs, with the silvery reflection from the light filtered down from the treetops, had a real danger of falling apart.

Though it was in early autumn, the morning was cool if not chill. Vivian wore a one piece skirt, plus a light blue blouse, but her hand and arms seemed cold, or even as if shivering in his hand. During the last two years, she had never been sick, at least in his eyes, but today, she appeared to be weak and vulnerable, so much in need of a type of protection from him.  

They found a good seat facing the vast water of the lake, with plenty of willows and trees on the bank, which, in other days, was always occupied by others.

The bench was damp, but they had not brought any paper to make it dry. So he briefly brushed it with his hand, and sat down, and let her sit on his lap, and held her.  

He kissed her; he wished to warm her face so as to invite her usual colour back.

In a minute or two, she removed herself from him and, straightening up, she said, ‘You legs must be tired, let me sit on the bench.’

‘Okay,’ he said, moving himself to the next space of the bench, ‘you sit here, it is dry.’

She tugged close her skirt, and gingerly sat on the dry spot, and let her upper body naturally lean upon his chest. He linked her fingers with his, and they sat like this for many minutes. On the water, the rings caused by drops from the trees were rippling, feebly, tranquilly, yet still slanting a pale light at certain points bright enough to dazzle his eyes.   

Then his fingers and his body were increasingly restless. Looking around, there was nobody around but two of them.

He wanted to love her.

Without speech, he motioned her body to sit on his lap again, she knew his intent, and she didn’t refuse him.

With her full in his cradle, he felt she was warmer, softer, more feminine than ever before. This feeling of love was different, almost an entire new experience to him. His passion, his desire, seemed to have moderated to a degree, becoming more subtle and delicate, more lastingly tenacious, less sharp and urgent and impatient; and his fingers and kisses that covered her, seemed to pulsate with a genuine care or pity, or a love more mature.

And apparently she was also affected by the quality of the difference, because in her eyes, there were tears that he had to kiss or brush dry, because there was a tremor added to the heaving of her bosom as she sobbed mildly. He hadn’t seen her like this before, no tears before.   

But, when he was completely inside her, her mood began to improve, evidenced by colour beginning to suffuse her face.

Then, it started raining. It was a drizzle, a mist, a curtain of silver.

‘It is raining,’ she whispered.

‘Yes,’ he said, arranging his shirt, spreading her skirt, in order to shelter her knees from the tiny raindrops. ‘Are you cold?’

‘No,’ she turned to face him, ‘are you?’

He whispered, ‘No, it is very warm there.’

She compressed her lips, and made a little girlish grimace. ‘Because of me, or you?’ she chided.

‘Any difference?’ he asked, at the same time deliberating a flutter inside her as if to emphasize his words.

‘I would assume you are hotter than me,’ she said, ‘after all, you ate so many spicy chillies.’

Then suddenly, without warning, she gave a shaking, and his device, as if awakening from an indulgent doze, was quivering.

The rain increased; the clatter it produced on the ground and on the lake was distinctly audible, like those mysterious whispers caused by tiny ants rustling on a piece of paper. But still, it was very quiet, it was a type of serenity that was able to pacify and soothe any soul on the earth.

Then she gave him another shake, but, this time, instead giving her one single action of response, he grabbed her cheeks, starting to act upon an ancient call from the heavens, from a paradise that seemed to be flashing in his misty vision.

She groaned, not at all like herself. He knew there was stress in her heart, worry in her mind, a constraint to her energy that had developed over the days, and that should at least be relieved temporarily if not permanently.

At their peak, she gave an utterance of anguish, turning back her head to him, her mouth frantically seeking his. Their love was consummated again, like a young bamboo bursting open from the surface.  

After some moments, she said to him, in a tearful voice, ‘Bing, I love you.’

He bent her head lower, kissed the tears or raindrops in her eyes, and on her face.  

They rose to their feet. He felt the happy soreness about his legs and thighs. They organized their clothing.

The colour on her face was so beautiful. The raindrops and his unreserved love had softened her skin.

First, they walked, then they walked faster, then they raced; they laughed, they teased, in the quiet rain, in a paradise.

They were both sure of her pregnancy being conceived in the train, judging by the elapsed time and its occurrence without any contraception. Vivian contacted a hospital by herself, and made an appointment for abortion in two weeks. In the meantime, knowing no protection was required, he tried every possible chance to make love to her, and their frequent meeting inevitably betrayed their courting secrecy. But Bing had not told Kang the full story, and Kang, who might understand his discretion, didn’t pursue this matter.

On the day of the appointment, accompanied by Bing, Vivian went to the hospital, and went through the operation, and then she asked for three days of sick leave from the class.

Since her abortion, Bing, free of suspicion of her love, had exhibited the best part of him to love her, to care for her, to miss her ever more. What kind of evidence did he need to assure himself of her dedication? She conceived a baby with him, and went through the pain because of him. There was no justifiable reason to doubt, to disbelieve her love, to let his pathetic feeling of inferiority plague their courtship.

One Sunday afternoon, on their way back to their dorm from the park, they ran into Kang and his girlfriend.

‘Hi Kang,’ Bing had to come to him, for they had already seen each other as soon as they both turned out from a corner, and there was no way he could dodge their encounter.

Kang was chuckling, which was contagious, causing Bing, and then Vivian to follow suit. The only one looking confused was the girl beside him.

‘Xiaodan, this is Bing, I have mentioned him to you many times,’ Kang said, and turning to Vivian, amusingly, made his additional introduction, ‘and this is Vivian, Minister of Literature and Art of our class.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ they said almost at the same time.

It was the first time Bing had the chance seeing his girlfriend, about whom Kang had talked with him for nearly a month. Unlike what Bing had imagined about her, she was short and slim and very shy, contrary to his stereotyped images of girls from Liaoning province. He couldn’t say she was beautiful, but from the way they stayed together, they seemed perfectly harmonious in the quiet affection shown towards each other, in spite of the stark contrast of their respective heights.

Naturally, a dinner was indicated, and the two couples went to a North-Eastern style restaurant in Sichuan Bei Road.

At the table, Kang said to Vivian: ‘So it is you, I doubted it very much when some gossip came to my ear. I knew Bing had been dating someone, but I didn’t force him to reveal the identity,’ then, looking at Bing, he said in a sly intonation, ‘and you had kept your secret very well.’

Bing laughed, raising the bottle to toast with him, ‘I wanted to tell you a long time ago, but Vivian suggested otherwise, see, I had to listen to her.’ He then turned to Vivian on his left, ‘Am I telling the truth, Vivian?’

Vivian, who would never lose her self-possessed and confident manner in front of others, answered, ‘Hehe, you are only telling your own truth, I didn’t recall I had ever asked you not to tell your best friend.’

Kang turned to Bing, ‘See, it is all your fault. You are a guy quickly forgetting a friendship after finding love,’ then he lifted the bottle, ‘you need to drink at least one more bottle today.’

Compared to the rest, Xiaodan remained quiet, smiling all the time, answering more questions than asking her own. Her major was Russian, she came from the capital city Shengyang in Liaoning province. She had made Kang’s acquaintance through one of her classmates, who happened to be a country-fellow of Kang.

Around the table, Bing did not speak of the beginning of his romance with Vivian. It was more due to their secret Beijing trip than their secret love that had caused him to refrain from telling their story to someone like Kang. Since the crackdown of the students demonstration, any topic or reference to it had become very sensitive.

But consciously, Bing decided he would tell Kang the complete story some time soon.  

And he did so, actually on the same night after they had seen off their girlfriends.

‘So amazing, unbelievable,’ Kang exclaimed, after listening to Bing’s impartial recounting. ‘So she got pregnant on the train, and had an abortion, you two were really, really crazy.’

‘Yes...’

‘In the classroom, both of you didn’t betray anything that would suggest something had been happening between you.’

‘But I think many classmates already know about us, one way or another.’

‘Well, still, probably in the eyes of them as well, Vivian and you are just impossible.’

‘I know, she had always been very popular on the campus. Without the opportune encounter in Beijing, and without, I believe, my performance moving her during that time, I couldn’t imagine I had the slightest chance with her.’

‘But you said, you had been loving her all the time.’

‘Yes, true, and frankly, the mere motive of my hard work on guitar was perhaps because of her, because subconsciously I desired to do something to make myself more outstanding so…’

‘How come you never told me about this?’ Kang was complaining frankly.

‘What could I say? That was just a pathetic want,’ he said, brushing his hair, ‘and now I am transparent… hehe.’

Kang regarded his friend with an unusual light in his eyes as if he had found in Bing a new person.

‘How about your Xiaodan?’ Bing asked. ‘Do you think you love her?’

‘Do I think?’ he repeated what Bing had said, ‘I don’t know much about the concept of love, or like. But I feel very comfortable with her. She is very nice. I would think I will marry her after graduation.’

‘So you love her, otherwise you wouldn’t come up with such an idea.’

‘Again, I am not very sure of the word. And obviously I don’t have such infatuation and romance as you have experienced.’

For a moment, Bing was rather confused. Then he said, ‘But I really see the like or love - or something good - between you and her.’

‘Really? Then I am in love,’ he said, as if conceding reluctantly something about which he was not very sure.

‘Have you made love to her?’

‘What? You are kidding, of course not, I wouldn’t think of such a thing while we’re in school,’ he said incredulously, and his square face seemed to distend in all directions. ‘I know I am very traditional, old-fashioned.’

‘Yes, you are,’ Bing said, playfully, ‘have you kissed her?’

‘Nope.’

‘Haha, so what do you do when they are together?’

‘Well, we just talk. But we do hold hands,’ he replied, ‘why should people have to kiss or make love? We are only in school, aren’t we?’

Bing shrugged, resisting his amusement from showing too much in his face, ‘Well, I have to say your love is in the years of Butterfly Love - Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai.’

‘Maybe I should try next time? Share your experience with me.’ He meant it seriously in spite of his light tone.

‘Well, just kiss her the next time in Lu Xun Park, and check her response. If she doesn’t resist you much, then you can go further, go to her other places, then follow your male instinct, but make sure you have condoms with you, don’t make my first-timer mistake, you know. I have condoms in my cupboard, you just help yourself.’

Kang’s interest must have sufficiently been inspired, for he seemed to be contemplating indulgently for a long while. At last, as if making a big decision, he said, ‘I will.’




---End of Chapter 30---

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