promoted to president and became the new Party secretary of the school. When he sought a personal tutor for Jasmine, he picked Lion Head, because the young man was bright and humble.
Lion Head accepted this position in rapture. He tutored Jasmine privately three times a week. He taught her English. They spoke broken English to each other with a British accent. She spoke loudly in public; she liked to have people hear that they weren’t speaking Chinese. It was their secret language. He never forgot whose daughter she was. He went on spoiling her and in a few weeks Jasmine lost herself in him.
* * *
“A re you attracted to her?” I asked Lion Head. After a moment’s thought he said that he felt as if he were sitting on the lip of a volcano. He didn’t explain any further.
Lion Head never expressed his personal desires verbally, but he always knew what he wanted. He was like a fine tailor whose work is intricate but invisible. His easygoing, bright, and funny personality was impressive to many. That was what got Jasmine, I figured. Because I, deep down, wanted very much to spend time with Lion Head too. He made my dull life interesting. Each morning Katherine became a fashion model. Unlike us, who wore the same outfit all year round, she changed her clothes every day. We learned American taste from the way she dressed. This morning she was in deep black-green jeans with a tight, sleeveless black top. A belt with a copper buckle around her waist. Beautiful beads, stones, and shells dangled in front of her chest. The outfit accentuated the shape of her body.
We devoured this image in silence.
“Chi-zao-fan-la?”
—Have you had breakfast yet? she asked in Chinese, a little awkward because of our staring.
No one’s mouth moved.
“Hey, you! Wake up!” she said, clapping her hands.
We smiled back at her as usual. She knew we adored the way she decorated herself. We knew somehow she did it for us, and she knew somehow we appreciated it. She lowered her head for a moment, then said, “All right. Let’s begin our text.”
Jasmine was bored in class. She popped sophisticated questions at Katherine. Questions like “How do you comprehend emotion?” She threw around words like “infatuation.” Katherine knew the rest of the class was not able to follow. After she answered Jasmine’s questions, she would say to us that it was all right for us not to understand everything. What was being talked about was not important, she said. “The important thing is for you to grasp the language, its tone, its sound. Let it roll around in your ears. Catchwhat you can, do the best you can,” she encouraged. Katherine never shut Jasmine up, although I could tell she was irritated.
Jasmine seemed to forget that there were thirty of us in the room. We didn’t like her taking all of Katherine’s attention. But Jasmine motivated us—we wanted our English to be as good as hers. We wanted to be able to ask questions like hers to Katherine. I never put away my homework before midnight. I studied under the streetlights. I always did well on Katherine’s examinations. Katherine was pleased. She encouraged us. After only a few months I was on my way, speaking English in sentences.
* * *
I could not remember how long it had been since I stopped communicating with my parents. By the time I biked home, they were already asleep. My mother tried to wait up for me a few times, but I deliberately made it difficult for her by getting home past midnight, until she had grown too tired and had fallen asleep in a chair. I told her the next day that I was in the school library doing homework.
“It’s English,” I said to her. “It’s much harder than Chinese. So don’t tell me how I should study.” I didn’t tell her I resented that I had no private space at home. I could not invite Katherine over to my place the way Lion Head could. I had no friends. I was twenty-nine. I had a heart, but no one to share it with.
Lion Head accepted this position in rapture. He tutored Jasmine privately three times a week. He taught her English. They spoke broken English to each other with a British accent. She spoke loudly in public; she liked to have people hear that they weren’t speaking Chinese. It was their secret language. He never forgot whose daughter she was. He went on spoiling her and in a few weeks Jasmine lost herself in him.
* * *
“A re you attracted to her?” I asked Lion Head. After a moment’s thought he said that he felt as if he were sitting on the lip of a volcano. He didn’t explain any further.
Lion Head never expressed his personal desires verbally, but he always knew what he wanted. He was like a fine tailor whose work is intricate but invisible. His easygoing, bright, and funny personality was impressive to many. That was what got Jasmine, I figured. Because I, deep down, wanted very much to spend time with Lion Head too. He made my dull life interesting. Each morning Katherine became a fashion model. Unlike us, who wore the same outfit all year round, she changed her clothes every day. We learned American taste from the way she dressed. This morning she was in deep black-green jeans with a tight, sleeveless black top. A belt with a copper buckle around her waist. Beautiful beads, stones, and shells dangled in front of her chest. The outfit accentuated the shape of her body.
We devoured this image in silence.
“Chi-zao-fan-la?”
—Have you had breakfast yet? she asked in Chinese, a little awkward because of our staring.
No one’s mouth moved.
“Hey, you! Wake up!” she said, clapping her hands.
We smiled back at her as usual. She knew we adored the way she decorated herself. We knew somehow she did it for us, and she knew somehow we appreciated it. She lowered her head for a moment, then said, “All right. Let’s begin our text.”
Jasmine was bored in class. She popped sophisticated questions at Katherine. Questions like “How do you comprehend emotion?” She threw around words like “infatuation.” Katherine knew the rest of the class was not able to follow. After she answered Jasmine’s questions, she would say to us that it was all right for us not to understand everything. What was being talked about was not important, she said. “The important thing is for you to grasp the language, its tone, its sound. Let it roll around in your ears. Catchwhat you can, do the best you can,” she encouraged. Katherine never shut Jasmine up, although I could tell she was irritated.
Jasmine seemed to forget that there were thirty of us in the room. We didn’t like her taking all of Katherine’s attention. But Jasmine motivated us—we wanted our English to be as good as hers. We wanted to be able to ask questions like hers to Katherine. I never put away my homework before midnight. I studied under the streetlights. I always did well on Katherine’s examinations. Katherine was pleased. She encouraged us. After only a few months I was on my way, speaking English in sentences.
* * *
I could not remember how long it had been since I stopped communicating with my parents. By the time I biked home, they were already asleep. My mother tried to wait up for me a few times, but I deliberately made it difficult for her by getting home past midnight, until she had grown too tired and had fallen asleep in a chair. I told her the next day that I was in the school library doing homework.
“It’s English,” I said to her. “It’s much harder than Chinese. So don’t tell me how I should study.” I didn’t tell her I resented that I had no private space at home. I could not invite Katherine over to my place the way Lion Head could. I had no friends. I was twenty-nine. I had a heart, but no one to share it with.
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