Househusband

Yongming Wang

 

 

It was a windy and crispy December morning at the Beijing Capital International Airport. Sitting upright in the restraining seat of Boeing 757, Feng Li turned his head and gazed into the outside from behind the small airplane window and tried to think hard. But, he couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t feel anything. No strong sentiment. No joyous excitement. Only a tiny dose of anticipation plus anxiety, which is not unusual for any trip going to any new places. He traveled frequently, and he always had a little such anticipation plus anxiety whenever the place was new to him. But this time it was utterly different. He was going to travel across half of the earth to the other side of the Pacific Ocean, to reunite with his wife.

Four years of separation from his dear wife! During those four years they only talked on the phone a dozen times---the charge for such a long distance phone call was costly. He missed her very much. Finally, in less than twenty-four hours, he was going to see her again, to touch her again. He thought of that, feeling a little arousal somewhere inside his body around his belly button. But it was not strong. Just some itchiness, like a tiny and weak flame.  Quietly he laughed at himself, thinking: “For four years I didn’t touch a woman.  I’m sitting here as calm as a monk or a stone. Is that something? But I’m really tired of all these domestic travels, tired of living alone, tired of the cold home that waits for me every time I turn the key to open the door. Actually, you can’t call it a home without the other half of its owners. I’m going to enjoy the life with my wife in US. Everyone says it’s a great place for enjoying life. I’m going to have a wonderful two years while waiting Lin finishes her study.”

The airplane started moving, faster and faster; finally it took off, leaving his home, his motherland under, behind.

 

Walking hastily along the narrow long hallway towards the exit, Feng’s heart suddenly started beating fast. About one hundred feet afar, Feng saw his wife from among the waiting crowd. She was taller than the people around her, with her delicate head raised high, like a white swan. Feng smiled. She must have been doing the old trick, standing on her toes—When Lin was a little girl, her parents sent her to a ballet school. Feng approached. She was still that beautiful, a little thinner than four years ago. What is that in her left hand? A bundle of flowers. That’s something new.  He felt foreign. Lin handed him the flower. But he didn’t know what to do with it. It never happened before in their life. Back at home, several times she went to the train station to meet him when he came back from the trip, but it never involved flower exchange whatsoever. Plus, his both hands were fully occupied by luggage and bags.

“Here you are.” That was the first sentence he said to his wife, in Chinese, of course.  Lin was stepping up, about to open her arms and give him a hug, but stopped and withdrew after hearing those three words.  She didn’t want to embarrass him in public. She knew he would be embarrassed if she hugged him.  Chinese people don’t like to be intimate in public. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings. Their feeling to each other is hidden inside deeply. One has to feel it, through the silence, through some small gestures, acts, to feel the feeling other people have towards you. And they are seldom wrong about that. Whether that feeling is love, friendship, dislike, or hate, they can feel it, sense it. It’s delicate and subtle, but not hard to learn.

Lin gave up on the idea of hugging, not even thinking of kissing. Instead she turned to the man standing next to her.

“This is my boss, Professor Appleby,” she told her husband, in Chinese, “and he is driving today because I’ve just got my driver license and I never drove to the JFK airport. He volunteered to drive when this afternoon I told him that you are coming.”

“Your boss?” he was astounded. “So young”, he murmured.

Lin quickly added: “He is renowned internationally in our field.” Feng was utterly shocked. It’s unthinkable in China for such a young age to be a famous college professor, and don’t even mention his pony tail.

When two men exchanged hand shaking, Feng felt the strength from professor’s right hand. He didn’t know what to say to the professor except a simple Thank You. He felt he should say more but don’t know how.  He only knew a few simple English sentences. He turned to his wife.

“Tell him I want to thank him for taking care of you for the past four years. I don’t know how to say it in English,” he said.

“That’s not necessary,” she said.

“Why? It’s only proper for me to say that to your boss when I first meet him. I brought some gifts too. Tell him you will give them to him later,” said he. Lin turned to Professor Appleby and translated what Feng just said.

Professor Appleby kept smiling. With a height of almost six feet, he was almost one head taller than Feng; and Lin only reached his chest. Professor Appleby was speaking to Lin, in very fast English. Feng tried hard to listen but didn’t understand anything Professor Appleby said. Feng only noticed the low, magnetic voice of Professor Appleby. Finally Professor Appleby finished. The last three words caught Feng’s ears: Let’s go.

Outside it was drizzling. It was not cold, though it was December in New York.  Lights were everywhere, yellow lights giving off a warm layer coving everything during the night. The continuing and rolling sounds of airplanes in the airport were vibrating as live as blood running. Feng felt its vigor.

Professor Appleby was driving. Feng and Lin sat in the back. They didn’t talk much. He felt like talking but she stopped him. She told him it’s not polite to talk in foreign language in front of Americans. Foreign language? He was amused by this. “How come my native language suddenly becomes foreign language, in front of my wife? Is it because I’m in a foreign land? Even with my own wife, our language becomes foreign. Oh, I see. That’s why we are called FOREIGNERS.”

Suddenly the outside became as bright as day time. Feng turned to see a sea of lights radiating from massive high buildings. “We’ve arrived at the New York City. This is Brooklyn, the south end,” Lin explained to him.  

It was almost midnight when they arrived at Lin’s apartment in Manhattan. Professor Appleby dropped them at the front door and left, turning down their invitation to go up to have a cup of tea. Feng looked around. What he saw in front of him was a tall building. It has at least two dozen floors. Most windows were still with lights on.  They climbed up to her apartment at the third floor. The room was not big but had everything: a bedroom, a kitchen, and a small dining area.

 “Look, you even have a shower place, right here, at home?” He cried out excitingly to his wife. “And hot water twenty four hours a day. Wonderful! It’s so good. I can’t believe this. It’s like living in the heaven.” She smiled at him, moving her body towards him, giving him that long-missed kiss. A long kiss. A four-year-make-up kiss. 

 

Feng settled down. Lin went to the school every day from nine to six. She was busy doing her research and writing the PhD dissertation. She held a teaching assistantship under Professor Appleby. The job paid for all her tuition and covered the basic living expense. It was not much but it was enough for them to not worry about their financial situation. He didn’t need to go out working like some other visiting spouses did. He cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry. He was happy to do all these things. He studied the Chinese cooking books he brought with him.

He still had a lot of spare time. At first he just enjoyed the tranquility alone. But gradually he felt he needed to find something to do. And it was not easy to find something to do. He didn’t watch TV because he couldn’t understand English. Lin would buy a copy of Chinese newspaper, The World Journal, on the way home every day. So reading the paper became Feng’s sole entertainment. At the beginning he only skimmed the headlines and major news articles. After a while he read the paper from A to Z, literally. Every article, every news piece; at the end, he even started to pay attention to the classified ads, from selling cars to job wanted to massage services. Not that he needed it. It became a venue for him to learn about the new world. For that reason, everything on the paper interested him. For those articles that related to China he would read two or three times.

Lin kept telling him, “Feng, don’t read too much Chinese newspaper. Learn some English while you are in America. It’s a golden opportunity to learn the language when one lives in that country.”

Every time Feng would reply, “Why, I just stayed here temporarily. After you graduated, we will go back to China. I don’t need to learn English. You know I’m not good at the language thing. Remember? In college my English was always the worst in class.”

Weekends were their happy time together. Lin dragged him to all wonderful places in the city: museums, the central park, movie theatres. Though he didn’t understand it at all, he just liked to sit with Lin inside the theatre, feeling joyful to watch his wife enjoying the movie.

 

Summer came.

That summer of 1987 was hot and humid. Starting in June, the temperature kept shooting up above 90 degree. July and August were unbearably hot. The air still; no wind, no rain, not even a cloud. People easily became irritated and frustrated.

For Feng, along with the hot-fever came the boredom. The newspaper didn’t interest him that much anymore. Somehow he felt that remote motherland of his was slipping away from him. He tried to grasp it. He didn’t want it disappear. That was his life, his only world.

 

Lin was in the final stage of completing her dissertation; she became busier than ever before, often staying late at the lab, sometime even on weekends. Feng felt abandoned. Sometimes, when he sat there, nothing to do, he asked himself: “Where am I? Am I in America? Then why I don’t feel it? Or am I still in China? But why I can’t touch it?”

It was a Friday night. He prepared a delicious dinner for Lin. He wanted to make up with his wife. They had a big fight last night in bed.  First of all, she forgot to buy the newspaper, again. She forgot the paper more frequently recently.  That made the dinner uncomfortable. He kept thinking: doesn’t she know that the paper is his life? How can she forget so often? Maybe she forgot it on purpose. She doesn’t want him to bury himself in the remote, untouchable China on the newspaper.

During the eating he said to her, “You forgot the paper again”

“Yes, I’m too busy today,” She replied

“Busy has nothing to do with buying the paper.”

“What do you mean? I’m busy so I forgot the paper.”

“You are busy at school, not when you are on the way home.”

“But I’m still thinking my research while I walk.”

“You can’t think all the time. And you pass the newsstand on the way home. You can’t miss it. You just don’t want to buy it for me.” He stared at her straight at her eyes.

“How do you know I don’t want to buy it for you?” She asked.

“How? From the way you talk,” He retorted.

Hearing that, she became silent. She didn’t say one more word. Finishing her dinner quickly, she retreated to her corner to read her books, ignoring him totally.

In bed, he asked her again why she doesn’t want to buy the paper for him.

“I said I forgot,” She was obviously irritated, raising her voice.

“No, you didn’t forget. You just don’t want to buy it,” he said firmly.

“What different does that make? Yes. Maybe I forgot it on purpose. I don’t want you to read that garbage anymore,” she blurted out finally.

He sat up. “Garbage? You said garbage.” He got mad.

“If it’s not garbage, tell me what it is.” She sat up too. Both of them were naked due to the hot weather.

“That’s my world, my life, my motherland, my home,” he almost yelled to the top of his lung. “How dare you say it’s garbage.”

“That’s not real. You are living in the dream, in the fantasy. Wake up,” she cried, “You can’t go on like this.”

“Like what? I cook for you every day. I wash. I clean up. I do everything for you. Aren’t you happy? All I need from you is just a paper. Is that much to ask? With that last sentence finished, he dropped down to bed and closed his eyes and didn’t want to say a word.

The dinner was ready. Feng sat there, waiting. Presently Lin called to tell him she was not coming home for dinner. She had to finish some lab work. This had never happened. Before today, no matter how late, she was always coming home for dinner. This was not good. He pondered after he put down the phone. When a husband or wife stops coming home for dinner, it usually means something is wrong. He picked up the phone and called her.

“What are you going to have for your dinner?” he asked.

          “I’ll buy some fast food,” she answered.

          “Are you alone?”

          Only a few seconds, but it seemed a long pause to him. “No, Professor Appleby is here also.”

          “Just you two?”

          “ehhh, yes.”

 

          It was almost midnight when she got home. The lights were still on. Inside he was sitting there, waiting. Dinner was still on the table. “I think you can’t eat well at the school. So I left all the food on the table just in case.” He didn’t finish the sentence. He looked into her. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Not really. Very busy today. but I can have a little.” She sat down, feeling a little guilty.

“I want to tell you,” he pushed the plates in front of her, “I’m going to go out tomorrow and try to find something to do. You are right. I can’t stay at home all the time like this. I have to go out.”

“That’s wonderful,” She was so happy to hear that, “but what kind of work are you going to look for?

“I want to go to China Town and see if I can find some work in the Chinese restaurant.”

“I heard that the restaurant work is touch. I don’t think you can’t handle it.”

“That’s impossible. Me? Can’t handle the restaurant work?” He laughed sarcastically. “Remember? Your husband was a very capable man back in China. I managed a whole department. And also I’m strong physically. I can easily handle you in bed. How come I can’t handle the restaurant work?” he slipped out a dirty talk to her.

“That is exactly what worries me,” Frowningly she said, ignoring his obscene joking. “You are not used to obeying other people’s commands, just like ….” She suddenly  realized, and promtly stopped.

“Like who?” he demanded.

“Nothing. Nobody.”

“Just don’t worry about me. How was your work tonight? Making any progress?”

“It’s OK,” she didn’t want to get into this topic. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m very tired.”

Next day when Lin got home she found Feng sitting in front of the kitchen table.

“How is your job hunting today?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied without much enthusiasm. “I went to several restaurants in Chinatown. None of them need new people.”

“You can’t just go in and ask. You need to read the job ads first. Then you should call before you go.”

“Oh, I don’t know that. I knew there are lots of ads in the newspaper I read, but I never thought they are serious.”

“Why, you don’t believe them. Believe me. In this country the ads are indispensable. You need it to do anything.

Next day when Lin arrived at home she again saw her husband sitting at the same place.

“How is today?” she asked.

“Still nothing,” he replied languidly. “I called all waiter ads and all of them don’t even speak Chinese.”

“Why?”

“I mean they don’t speak Chinese the way I speak, they speak Cantonese Chinese which I don’t understand. How can I find a job if I even can’t understand what they are talking?”

“I really think you should forget about the idea of working in the restaurant,” Lin said, “I have been telling all the time why don’t you go to the school to learn something, to get a degree or something so you can easily find a decent job. How about computer?”

“How about my English?” He said gloomily, “First I have to study English. That will take forever.”

“It won’t as long as you stick to it.”

“I’m too old for that.”

“No, you are only thirty.”

“Thirty is too old to learn a new language.”

“No, thirty is fine to learn anything.”

“Yes, too old.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes for me. Plus, I’m not good at the language thing. I’ve been here for over a year and I haven’t learnt any English. I can still only say thank you and bye bye. Whenever I hear English I feel like a bombardment of bullets hitting my ears.”

“That’s because you never want to learn it,” Lin pauses a little, “Please, give it a try. Just for me. O.K.?”

“O.K.” He gave in finally. He loves his wife. He just did this for her. “I thought I’ll be content enough just to be a househusband and take care of you and our future child. Oh, yes, let’s have a baby so that I can stay home happily.”

“No way,” Lin snapped. “Don’t even mention it before I graduate with my PH.D.”

They hadn’t made love in two months. Lin was always busy at school and tired when got home. Feng was not in the mood. But that night both of them felt some relief; they made love.

 

Feng entered an English As a Second Language (ESL) program at a small college. He tried his best to remember the words, to understand what the teachers were talking about in the class. The reading part was not that hard. He was easy at analyzing the grammar and sentence structures. But the listening was horrible, and speaking was killing him. The most dreadful moment in the class was when he had to speak aloud to answer the teacher’s questions. At end of the semester he got an A for reading and F for listening and speaking.

At home Lin tried to help him with his listening and speaking skill by communicating with him in English as much as possible. But he always felt awkward and absurd. Whenever she spoke English to him, she transformed into a totally different person, not his wife anymore, but some foreigner, at least to him. So he rebuked her at her trying and he thought he would never be able to open his mouth to speak English in front of his wife. Lin then suggested other venues such as watching television. But that was too much, too fast for him. Plus, he had no interest in anything showed on the screen. News was always depressing with exclusively violence; soap opera was out of his reach to understand, even Lin wrote down those jokes and puns on the paper he wouldn’t understand them. It really irritated him. He used to be big sports fan back in China. He used to watch any sports on television, especially soccer and ping pong. Now for some reason, or no reason, he lost all interests in sports, especially the so-called big three American sports: baseball, basketball, and football. He sternly believed that the baseball is the most boring, the dullest game in the world. Once he joked to his wife that the athletes on the field should wear thick coats in case they would catch cold by just standing there by doing nothing. Basketball was a little better than baseball but  the biggest hindrance for him was that he didn’t know any team and had absolutely no any affiliation with any. It absolutely didn’t matter which team won. That, frankly speaking, killed more than half of the fun while watching the game. Football to him was a game for barbarians, no rule, no game plan, no skill, no technique, just colliding, dragging, graspping, and punching, and nothing to enjoy as an audience. So the television education plan was abandoned.

 

Winter was here. Everyone tried to stay home as much as possible. The snow fell constantly. Lin was in the final stage of completing her dissertation. She was busier than ever. Now she often stayed late in school.

In January Feng started his second semester in school. It didn’t get any better. He was always afraid of going to class, always afraid of being asked by the teacher. He felt isolated. He got another F in listening and speaking class. That day when he went home he was rather distraught and weary. It was four o’clock in the afternoon. He opened the door, entered the room. Lin was sitting there, beaming. That was odd. She never came back at such an early time. At that moment he forgot his own peril.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Guess what,” said Lin exuberantly, “I completed my dissertation last week and this morning I passed the dissertation defense! I’m a PH.D now, a doctor now!”

“Ah, that’s pretty good,” Feng said, “Congratulations. You deserve this, after so much efforts.”

“I’m very happy now. I can relax a little, finally.”

“What are you going to do next?”

“Next? I haven’t thought about it. I should start looking for a job, I guess.”

“Really?”

“Why?”

“But we agreed. When you finish your study we will go back to China.”

“But I like it here. I like the free air in college. I like New York. What can I do in China? My major is physics. They don’t need physicist in China. They need people in practical fields like finance and computer science.”

“You can be a professor, and find a teaching job at the university.”

“No, I don’t want to do that. I want to stay here.”

With that being said, they stopped. They went out that night to celebrate. She was happy all the time, and didn’t notice Feng’s gloomy face. Feng was absent-minded. He was thinking something hard. He tried to decide on something. Finally he seemed relieved. He made his decision. Back at home when they went to bed that night Lin was still in the happiness. She didn’t notice at all the solemnest of Feng.  They lay in bed. Suddenly Feng said to Lin, “Lin, I want to go back to China as we planned.”

 “Why?”

“I don’t like this place. That’s all.”

……

“and I can’t learn English. I can’t find a job here. I can’t do anything here.”

“Oh, today is the school ending day. What is your score on listening class?”

“F.”

“Oh. I see. Feng, you can start again. Don’t worry. I can help you now. I have more time.”

“I don’t want to start again. I don’t want your help. And, how can you help?”

……

“Are you going back with me?”

“But,”

“No but, are you, or are you not?”

“But, but, Feng, can we wait a while and discuss this later? Give me some time to think about it, ok?”

“Ok.”

 

One evening, two months later, Lin came back from the school. She went to the school library to look up some job related information.

At home Lin found to her surprise that Feng cooked some her favorite dishes waiting for her. He greeted her nicely, which was a little out of place since recently they were not at very good term. Lin sat down and started eating. After dinner, as usual Feng washed the dishes and let her rest, or read. She offered to help with the cleaning up but Feng firmly refused.

That night Lin couldn’t sleep. She was thinking hard, tossing in the bed. She sensed that Feng was also not sleeping even though he was lying there still. Finally she couldn’t hold anymore. She turned over to him, and asked him casually, “Do you have anything you want to talk to me?”

“Eh, yeah, it’s like this,” Feng stammered, “I contacted the company where I worked before leaving China, and they agreed to have me back. I’ve decided to go back next Month.”

“What? When did you contact them?” Lin was shocked.
          “Last week, I phoned them, and today when I called again they told me.”

“What should I do?” Lin asked, to herself.

“I really wish you can come with me.”

A long silence prevailed. Neither of them talked. At last Lin decided to tell him everything, “Do you know what happened at the library this afternoon?” she asked.

“I don’t know. What?”

“I met Professor Appleby and we talked.”
“Yes?”

“And he said he wanted me to stay. He offered me a position at his department. And, and,” Lin found it very difficult to say it out, “and, he said, he said he love me.”

Another long pause, both of them felt the world was swirling around.

“How did you respond then?” finally Feng asked.

“I didn’t respond. I told him don’t say anymore. I told him I don’t know what to do. I also tell you now I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to go back to China. But I also don’t want to stay here without you,” Lin started weeping.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. Let’s discuss. Let’s find a solution.”

“I don’t see any solution.”

“I’m definitely going back. It’s just you. Do you go with me, or stay with him?”

“I don’t want either. Is there another way?”

“I don’t see another way,” Feng was a little frustrated. “If you think of another way, a better way, tell me.”

 

It was a cold December morning with overcast sky. Lin was driving to JFK airport. “I heard that there is going to snow today.” Lin said. “Really, I hope the airplane won’t be delayed.” Feng said. Feng was going back to China and Lin was seeing him off at the airport and then had to drive back to Manhattan alone. Suddenly Lin said, “Feng, remember today? It was exactly two years since you came to America. Two years ago on the same day I was on the same road to JFK to get you,” Lin paused a little. “Today I send you away. It’s like a dream for the past two years.” Lin sighed deeply. Feng didn’t say anything.

It started snowing, and in the few minutes, the small snow flakes turned into big and thick. The view became blurring with heavy wind and white snowing hitting the wind shield. “At least your driving skill improved a lot for the past two years.” Feng tried to cheer them up. “You know what, Feng?” Lin suddenly had a thought, “Even though with all the bad weather and vision, the car at least has a destination, it knows where to go, not like me. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what my destination is.” 

Sitting quietly, lonely at his seat, Feng’s mind was replaying and replaying the final conversation the night before between him and Lin. Lin finally told him her decision. She told him that she was not going back to China. She told him that she wouldn’t accept Profession Appleby’s offer and she was not staying with him. She would be on her own, she told him.

The airplane started moving, Feng looked out. He was talking silently inside his mind: “Good bye, America; Good bye, my wife, I will be waiting for you on another side of the ocean.”

 

 

June 2008