Nanjing Requiem (34 page)

“So I should just give up?”

“What else can you do? Also, you must consider the repercussions of such a trip. Your absence from campus will cause a sensation, and all sorts of rumors will fly. What’s worse, Mrs. Dennison will take you to task if you’re lucky enough to come back. Your trip will just give rise to a scandal.”

Finally Minnie saw the logic of my argument, so she agreed to drop the plan. Yet thoughts about Yulan kept eating away at her. She couldn’t help but imagine other possibilities of rescuing her and often discussed them with me. “Don’t be so obsessed,” I reminded her. “Sometimes we must learn to forget so that we can keep on going.”

All the same, she remained tormented and couldn’t stop talking about Yulan when we were alone.

45

A
IFENG YANG
had not returned from her summer vacation yet, though the fall semester was already in its third month. Nobody had heard from her since July. According to the information provided by the U.S. embassy, she’d gotten involved in some resistance activities and was apprehended by the Japanese. In early November Mrs. Dennison finally received a letter from Aifeng, which said she was well but her fiancé, a journalist based in Beijing, was imprisoned in Tianjin, accused of espionage by the Japanese police. She said he wasn’t a spy at all and that there must have been a miscommunication, or misunderstanding, or backstabbing by some Chinese. For the time being she had to stay there trying to rescue him, but she promised to come back to Nanjing as soon as he was released. Mrs. Dennison shook her head of flaxen hair and said to us, “Aifeng is smart and resourceful and she’ll be all right.” Because of our reduced enrollment, she wasn’t needed for teaching.

A week later we heard from Dr. Wu, who was pleased by the smaller size of the Homecraft School now—she must have assumed that this was a step closer to restoring the college.

Ever since she returned from her summer vacation, Minnie got frazzled easily. Sometimes she nodded off at her desk, and once she missed an appointment with a reporter from the
Chicago Tribune
. Every Monday morning she would give Big Liu her weekly schedule so he could remind her of the important matters and arrangements every day.

More Japanese came to visit our campus. Most of them were civilians, some were Christians, and one even brought his children with him. Among the visitors was a fortyish man named Yoguchi, slightly hunched and beaky-faced, whose eyes would disappear when he smiled, as if afraid of light. He came often and would converse with us whenever he could. He spoke Mandarin with a sharp accent, having lived in Manchuria for more than a decade. In the beginning Yoguchi would not believe what we told him about the atrocities the soldiers had committed, but Minnie took him to some women in the Homecraft School and let him interview them. They told him their stories, which gradually convinced him. He even bowed to some of them apologetically when they collapsed, sobbing, unable to speak anymore.

One afternoon Yoguchi said to us, “The army has taken measures to control its men and make sure they’re better supplied. I’m quite certain that no orgy of burning, rape, and bloodshed will happen again.”

“What do you mean?” Minnie asked.

“An officer told me that since last winter, the army has been sending the military police ahead of the troops whenever they are about to take a city. And also, officers have been ordered to treat their men like brothers so they won’t vent their spleen on civilians like they did here two years ago. You see, the army has been trying to prevent brutalities.”

That sounded stupid; Yoguchi was a civilian but still attempted to defend the Imperial Army.

Minnie said, “Do you think they can simply slam the brakes on violence?” Seeing him flummoxed and with two vertical lines furrowing his forehead, she added, “The atrocities will continue to take place in the victims’ minds for many years. They’re not something that can be put behind easily. Hatred begets hatred as love begets love.”

Silence ensued while Yoguchi’s face reddened. Then he said, “I’m sorry. I never thought of it that way.”

He didn’t raise the topic again. He ordered three cotton-padded robes from the tailoring class at the Homecraft School as Christmas presents for his children. I arranged the order for him but didn’t tell the seamstresses anything about the customer, afraid that they might refuse to work on the garments if they knew they were making them for a Japanese family.

Minnie and I were glad to see the change in Yoguchi, which further convinced her that only through the fully informed Christians in Japan could the people of that country be persuaded to see that the war was wrong and make peace. Yoguchi brought other Japanese Christians to Jinling, and some of them were impressed by the classroom buildings, the library, and the gardens. Minnie would tell them, “Come again in the spring—our campus will be like a beautiful park. In fact, that was what I wanted it to become when I joined the faculty here.”

Yoguchi suggested that Jinling send some people to Japan to speak to the Christians there about what had happened in Nanjing. This could be a good step toward mutual understanding between the Chinese and the Japanese. The suggestion amazed us, but Minnie didn’t respond right away. After Yoguchi left, we talked about it. I admitted, “If my grandson and daughter-in-law were not there, you’d have to cut off my legs before you could make me step foot in that country.”

“You mean you don’t want to go?” Minnie asked.

“Of course I’d like to go. I want to see Mitsuko and Shin if I can locate them.”

“Then we’ll make you the head of our delegation.”

Minnie also spoke to Alice to see if it would be safe for Chinese people to travel to Japan. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Alice assured her. “The Japanese there are not the same as the soldiers here.”

Heartened by Alice’s support, Minnie talked with Searle Bates. He had spent a summer in Japan three years ago and liked the country, though he was still documenting the Japanese war crimes and exposing their manipulation of the narcotics trade as a way to weaken the Chinese mentally and physically. He worked as an official of Nanjing University now, in charge of the school’s properties, because as a foreigner he could deal with the Japanese in person. Searle thought that the trip was a good idea and added that it would be more productive if some Chinese could speak at seminaries and colleges in Japan, but he was unsure if we could get the travel papers. The Japanese military meant to keep the truth of the Nanjing atrocities from spreading internationally and might deny citizens here entry to Japan, where the war was being propagated as
seisen
, “sacred war,” waged against communism and Western colonialism and led by the emperor himself.

To Minnie’s amazement, the young Chinese faculty members received the idea of the reconciliatory trip warmly. Both Shanna and Rulian were happy at the prospect of visiting Japan. They each spoke English well and were appropriate candidates to accompany me. Minnie and I discussed the matter with Yoguchi on his next visit. The man smiled and said, “Don’t worry about the travel permits. We’ll try to get them. We have some pull at the embassy. You know Mr. Tanaka?”

“Yes, he’s better than the other officials,” Minnie replied, though we hadn’t seen him for months.

“Tanaka is a Christian. This is just between us.” Yoguchi put his bony hand on a large package sent to Jinling’s nursery by the kindergarten of a church in Nagasaki. He had come to deliver the gifts today.

“Oh, no wonder Tanaka was so helpful,” I said. “We won’t breathe a word about him, of course.”

We then talked about how to fund the trip. Yoguchi said he could get some money from a Christian association, but it might not be enough to cover all the expenses. Minnie told him that she would look for funds too. “For the time being,” she said, “let’s split the cost fifty-fifty.”

“That’s fine. I hope we can work this one out.”

We thought that Jinling should sponsor the trip, since we had quite a bit of cash at the moment. But when we broached this subject without mentioning me as part of it, Mrs. Dennison said, “No, we won’t give a penny. If Shanna and Rulian want to visit Japan, they should pay for the trip out of their own pockets, or the Japanese side should pick up the bill. We must spend every yuan on restoring our college.”

“I want to go with them too,” I blurted out.

The old woman looked amazed. “Why do you want to be part of this? What’s in it for you?”

“I want to see what that country’s like,” I mumbled. “To know the enemy is a necessary step toward victory.”

“But you’re not an officer.”

Minnie said, “Rulian and Shanna were your students, Mrs. Dennison.” She must have assumed that the old woman resented her friendly relations with the young faculty members.

“That’s why I won’t play favorites,” the old woman responded.

“We have a good amount of cash now, and I cannot see why we shouldn’t sponsor the trip,” Minnie said.

“Remember we’ve both agreed to devote all our efforts and resources to rebuilding the college.”

“Their visit to Japan will help improve the communication and mutual understanding between the Japanese and the Chinese. That’s more meaningful and necessary—I mean, to make peace. Besides, our delegates will find ways to form relations with the churches there, and our direct contact with Japan will strengthen our college’s position here in the long run. In other words, this trip would also help to rebuild Jinling.”

“I just don’t want to deal with the Japanese. They’ve done enough damage. I would also warn you not to mix too much with them.”

“What do you mean?” Minnie asked.

“The Japanese are the enemy of the Chinese. If you get too chummy with them, you will arouse animosity among our employees and make us vulnerable. You need to be more careful about receiving Japanese visitors.”

“That’s ludicrous.” Minnie flung up her hand. “The Chinese know I love China and work only in their interest.”

“Then you should concentrate on restoring our college. This is the best we can do for this country.”

“You’re too obsessed with the restoration.”

“To be frank, obsession is what you lack. You always want to be praised by everybody, but you don’t understand that no human being can please everybody. Worse still, you don’t get much done—you’re just busy all the time.”

“Do you mean I’m not efficient?”

“Also inadequate.” The old woman’s eyes flared while her face remained wooden.

At this point Ban poked his head in the door. “Yes, what do you want?” Mrs. Dennison asked him.

“Mr. Yoguchi wants to see Miss Vautrin.”

Minnie glanced at the old woman’s smirking face, then stood and went out to see the visitor. I wondered if I should follow her, but resisted. Mrs. Dennison seemed to have known of our travel plans beforehand and was intent on thwarting them. She had been to Japan before the war and been deeply impressed by it. It was “clean, charming, and well ordered,” in her own words. What’s more, she believed in the exchange of ideas and information. That was why she had always encouraged faculty members to visit foreign countries during the summer and even had funds earmarked for that purpose when she was in office. Why this sea change in her attitude? Why had she become so hostile to the trip? She seemed determined to scuttle whatever Minnie attempted to accomplish.

Disappointed, I just sat there without saying a word. How I wished I could go see my grandson Shin.

Finally Mrs. Dennison said, “We cannot keep Minnie Vautrin here anymore. She has become an obstacle.”

Those words astounded me. When I later told Minnie what the ex-president had said, she frowned and wondered aloud, “What’s next? What do you think she might do?”

“I’ve no clue,” I said. “But don’t provoke her. Remember what I told you? Wait patiently till the day the bride becomes the mother-in-law.”

“Okay, I’ll try to keep cool.”

Despite her frustration, Minnie attempted to be conciliatory toward Mrs. Dennison. For better or worse, the two of them would have to work together until Dr. Wu came back from Chengdu; our college could not afford to be polarized by their conflict. Minnie also said it felt like it was beneath her to quarrel with the old woman. Indeed, in people’s eyes Minnie was like a saint, the Goddess of Mercy, and she must not diminish herself with petty squabbles.

We did not discourage Yoguchi from getting the travel papers for Rulian, Shanna, and me. Minnie said she would raise funds for us if necessary. For the time being, there was too much to do before Christmas. If we went to Japan, it would not be until the summer.

46

O
N SUNDAY
, the day before Christmas, Big Liu came to the president’s office and flopped into a chair. “Meiyan and Luhai ran away,” he croaked. “I didn’t mean to spoil your holiday mood, Minnie, but I thought you should know so you could find someone for the job left by Luhai.”

“Heavens, you mean they just eloped?” Minnie asked.

“I don’t know if they’re close like a couple. Apparently Luhai has been a bad influence and misled her. The girl has been in terrible shape ever since she was taken by the Japanese.”

“She must’ve been traumatized.”

“She’s hatred itself and kept saying China needed a revolution if we wanted to defeat Japan.” Big Liu’s face contorted as if he were suppressing a hiccup caused by heartburn.

“Do you think she’s really fond of Luhai?” I asked.

“I can’t tell, but she said they were just friends. Luhai must have connections with some resistance force. Who could’ve imagined he would abandon his family? I just hope he’ll treat Meiyan well, but that man has shifty eyes—he’s not reliable.”

“Are you going to hunt them down?” Minnie said.

“Where would I look? She’s grown enough to choose her own way of living.”

“Luhai’s family must be in a muddle.” Minnie turned to me. “Should we do something for his wife and kids?”

“Maybe we should,” I said.

The door opened and Donna stepped in, holding a letter. “Minnie,” she panted, “this is for you.”