The Dog (25 page)

“So it's your personal choice to wear the Hanfu? It's not company policy?”

“That's right. Personal choice,” Brother Kang said, shaking his head and waving away any doubts.

“Are these employees,” the reporter said, pointing at Ai Ai and Slick Lips, “allowed to make personal choices about their wardrobe?”

The Hanfu guy sitting next to me leaned back and, without taking his eyes off Brother Kang, whispered, “She's very clever. No wonder you looked like such an ass on camera.”

“I see what you're doing,” Brother Kang said to her. “No more questions. No more questions.”

“Just a few more questions. We're almost finished,” the reporter said.

“No, no, no.” Brother Kang was swiping at the camera, and the cameraman was dodging and weaving like a cobra to avoid his grasp. “Turn it off. Interview's over,” Kang said, waving his hand in front of the lens, the sleeve of his blue robe flying about. His beard had fallen off completely.

“Fine. We've got enough,” the reporter said. “Let's go.” As the light went out, Brother Kang made a last lunge for the camera, and this time got the square lens hood in his hand. There followed a struggle over possession of the camera, and Kang appeared to be winning, but at the last moment he seemed to feel he'd proved his point, and he shoved the thing away and started ordering people around.

“Back to work! Phones, people!” he said. “Someone have security escort this woman from the premises.”

Behind me, Ai Ai said, “I hate him a little more every day.”

I turned around and made a plaintive, agreeable face. He ignored me.

“You two! In my office!” Kang shouted at him and Slick Lips. They made a show of moving as slowly as possible across the trading floor, and Slick Lips leaned against the office's glass wall once they were inside. Kang slammed the door and started yelling. He went on for about ten minutes, and then it got quiet. When the perpetrators were released, Ai Ai looked like he needed a transfusion. Slick Lips, naturally, looked like he'd been napping on the beach. Ai Ai went to his desk and collapsed into his chair. His head disappeared behind his terminals. Slick Lips came over to his own desk, put his cotton-shoed feet up on the keyboard, and yawned.

“Nice move. Been a pleasure working with you,” the Hanfu guy between us said. He'd taken over the chair to observe the debate and didn't appear to be going anywhere.

“I'll be your boss by the time this is all over, dummy,” Slick Lips said.

“He didn't fire you?” I said.

“Who are you, again?” Slick Lips said.

“Come on. What was I supposed to do?” I said.

“Maybe we'll give you a second chance if you swear an oath to the Chairman,” Slick Lips said.

“How are you still here?” the Hanfu guy said, shaking his head like he'd just seen a bear riding a bicycle.

“I threatened to sue,” Slick Lips said. “Brother Kang can't dictate my lifestyle choices. Article Thirty-five. Freedom of speech.”

“Article Thirty-five of what?” the Hanfu guy said.

“The Constitution.” Slick Lips gave me a look like, Can you believe this guy? “I'm persuasive. Plus, I told him that if he tried to get rid of us, I'd go straight to Boss Zhou and tell him Kang was trying to suppress our nationalistic expressions.”

“So you're going to keep wearing that getup?” the Hanfu guy said.

“Look at it this way. If there's going to be a battle over who's got more Chinese pride, I want to be on the side that destroyed feudalism and liberated the peasants, not the side that oppressed the masses. I'm just saying, if it weren't for the Red Guards, we wouldn't be here today,” Slick Lips said.

“Yeah. Maybe so,” the guy said, nodding and doing his best to look thoughtful.

“Maybe so?” Slick Lips said. “You think you'd be wearing gel in your hair and silk boxers? You'd be dragging a plow while some landlord beat you with a cane. Forget about this stuff.” He tugged at the guy's silk robes.

By the next morning, Slick Lips had lobbied every employee on the floor. His pitch came down to a simple notion: What would best impress Boss Zhou? Pretty much anyone could wear a Hanfu. It took real balls to put on the Red Guard uniform. Between the malcontents, those who held grudges against Brother Kang, and the spineless bastards like myself who would always do whatever necessary to cover their own backsides, he'd convinced a band of about fifty to switch allegiances. I, being a unique species of spineless bastard, arrived at work with a Hanfu in my bag and a Red Guard uniform wrapped in brown paper under my arm. This wasn't valiant behavior, but I wanted to survive, and that meant playing the odds. I'd called my doorman the day before and had him run out to the market at Fuchengmen to buy one. He gouged the hell out of me, but I deserved it.

By the time I showed up, arguments had already broken out between the Hanfu and the Red Guards, little gangs throwing around high-minded language and political slogans, people who worked long hours in close quarters finally given a forum in which to settle old scores, air petty betrayals and hurt feelings. Alliances formed over many beers were put asunder. It appeared that the derivatives desk had split right down the middle, and they were shouting unintelligibly at each other, shoving, behaving in a generally Paleolithic manner. It was impossible to hear anything but yelling. I slid into my chair and tried to look like I was working too hard to get involved.

Then Slick Lips climbed up on a desk in a corner of the trading floor and rallied the Red Guard faction. They formed up and started chanting slogans against the class enemies at Horizon Trading Company, stamping their feet and clapping their hands. “The counterrevolution cannot smash us! Smash the counterrevolution!”

Brother Kang, not to be outdone by this pack of screw-ups, took to the squawk box and announced that the Hanfu lifestylers were to gather outside his office.

I peeked over the top of my terminal. Empty seats. I looked behind me. More empty seats. My row was vacant. There wasn't anyone left. Everyone had chosen a side.

I saw Ai Ai jogging over, a Little Red Book in his hand.

“What's in here?” he said, nudging the brown package with his toe.

“Laundry,” I said.

“Liar,” he said. “You've got a uniform in there. Show me what's inside.”

“It's nothing. It's a blanket.”

Ai Ai made a play for the package but I kicked it deeper under the desk. If he wanted it, he'd have to go spelunking.

“Come on! Join the costume party. I know you've got that Hanfu stashed somewhere around here, too,” he said, rifling through my file drawers, slamming them closed when he saw they were empty except for napkins and orphaned chopsticks.

“I think I'm better off staying neutral,” I said. “This has gotten out of control. Carry on without me. I have calls to make.”

“Oh, no. I had to decide which way to go, and you do, too. You can't pass. In or out.” Ai Ai took my arm and pulled. “There's no neutral.”

Brother Kang came striding over, his robes flapping.

“Wei,” he said, “why are you sitting out here like a rock in the sea?”

“He's about to join us,” Ai Ai said, tugging on my arm again, this time with meaning, like a kid trying to pull a root out of the ground. “He was just about to unwrap his uniform.”

“You're joining them?” Brother Kang said. He sounded hurt.

“I'd prefer to stay neutral,” I said, yanking my arm back.

“How can you take them seriously?” Brother Kang said. He calmed himself. “I think I understand. You don't want to abandon your friends. It's an honorable position. It's exactly the sort of honorable position a follower of the Hanfu path would take. But don't make a mistake. You've always been careful. That's what I like about you. Weigh potential outcomes and do the right thing.”

What a salesman. Brother Kang had never spoken to me with such decency. Even at the archery ceremony, he'd been officious and distant. I'd bought lunch and snacks and he'd never offered to reimburse me.

Some of the Hanfu faction had drifted over to see what was going on. Behind them, a few of the derivatives traders were angling for a better look. The Red Guards had stopped chanting.

I tapped my screens. “Wouldn't it be easier if I stayed on the desk here? Someone ought to be getting some work done.”

“Collective decisions are the essence of high morale,” Brother Kang said. “We're nurturing the life of the firm.”

“What life of the firm?” Ai Ai said. “We're done for. This place is a grease stain on your fat ass!”

“You're a rotten egg!” Brother Kang said.

No one talked that way anymore, but it was just the sort of thing Brother Kang would say. Some of the Hanfu crew started laughing.

“Shut up!” Brother Kang shouted.

“There he is,” Ai Ai said, slapping his legs. “There's the Brother Kang we know. You fucking bully. You fat pig flopping around in the mud.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Brother Kang said. It was a reasonable question. Slick Lips could get away with that sort of talk, but Ai Ai?

Ai Ai lifted his chin just a hair. “Fat little emperor in a dress,” he said.

“Stop it before you say something you regret. Apologize,” Brother Kang said.

“Impotent.”

“Last chance,” Brother Kang said.

“Oink,” Ai Ai said.

“You're fired.” Brother Kang did not raise his voice. He'd whispered the words, in fact, and the Red Guards, who'd been milling about, casually eavesdropping, suddenly didn't look so casual.

Slick Lips charged over. “On whose authority?” he said. His face was close enough to Brother Kang's to plant a kiss on him, but Kang barely flinched. He merely assessed the set of eyes across from his. He didn't push Slick Lips away or back up. It was fairly terrifying.

“You're causing more than your usual share of trouble this week,” Brother Kang said.

“You're crazy, and you're sick. You fired one of the firm's best guys just because he called you a name?”

“What are you talking about, one of our best guys?” Brother Kang said, laughing. “He hasn't hit a bogey in months. Look at him. He's a mess.” He was right. Ai Ai looked terrible. But he hadn't said anything to me or Slick Lips about his profits falling off.

“Hire him back and we'll forget about the Red Guard stuff,” Slick Lips said.

“This isn't a joke,” Brother Kang said. “I've acted ethically and in the best interests of Horizon Trading Company. My decision stands.”

“Fire me, too, then,” Slick Lips said. “Fire your top earner if you're so sure of your position.”

Slick Lips had barely had time to cross his arms and look around the room smugly when Brother Kang said, “All right. Now you're both fired.” It was hard to tell whether he'd been pushed into it or had seized on the chance to finally rid himself of an employee he'd never approved of, no matter how much money he brought in.

No one moved except Ai Ai, who dropped into a chair with a moan.

“Stupid, fat, moronic pig,” Slick Lips said. “Boss Zhou's going to throw you off the roof when he hears about this.”

“Sure,” Brother Kang said, Slick Lips nothing more than a bad memory, before directing himself to me. I could see this was a new Brother Kang, not someone I wanted to cross. “And you. Still want to join this Red Guard movement?”

I shook my head.

“Good. I'm happy to welcome you to the Hanfu lifestyle.” Brother Kang addressed the Red Guards. “Come over, friends. All is forgiven.”

To get to the Hanfu side of the trading floor, the Red Guards had to squeeze between my chair and the row of desks behind me. They queued up like ducks.

“Unlawful termination. Coercion,” Slick Lips said. “You don't have the authority to fire anyone!”

“Lower your voice, and get out before I call security,” Brother Kang said.

“What about Article Thirty-five, comrade?” came a voice from the Hanfu crowd, followed by a dim sort of laugh.

“Where's that Hanfu you've been too neutral to wear, Wei?” Brother Kang said.

“Wei,” Slick Lips said sharply, as if to wake me up with a warning that there was bad weather ahead, that we'd better get moving.

I didn't respond, and I didn't look at him. I gave him and Ai Ai time to get to the elevators, and only after I was sure they were gone did I unzip my bag and pull out the robes. That was my tribute to our friendship. Even though I'd been carrying them around for days, the robes were heavier than I remembered. Not in a portentous way. The robes felt heavy because the fabric was high-quality, and when given a choice I'll usually go with the more expensive option. I was glad I'd sprung for the best. They lay nicely across my lap, draping like a waterfall down my legs. No one could say they weren't nice robes, and I didn't want to be sitting around in a cheap Hanfu, not when Boss Zhou could return at any moment.

 

SWITCHBACK, 1994

 

A Public Security Bureau officer banged on the bus doors and pulled himself inside. He looked down the aisle, past the sacks of vegetables, at the stack of bricks. The driver knew the PSB had him. The bus was grossly overweight. Through the windscreen, the passengers in the front rows saw three trucks, a minivan, and another bus parked in the crook of the next switchback. They'd been creeping through the mountains since midday and it was getting dark. Even if their driver had his papers in order, and enough for a bribe, it wasn't likely he'd be able to get the battered green school bus moving again. They'd barely been moving as it was. The engine had cooked itself miles ago. It gave off raw grinding yowls when forced into a lower gear. It yowled when they climbed. It yowled on the short level stretches. Its shocks had been cut from granite.