A Proposal (Part 5)

“What’s your salary?”

The first question is asked by Little Bee without any pandering. Although the question comes up in almost every conversation I have with a new Chinese person, I never know how to answer. If I try and hide the real amount, he will think that I have a high salary which is expected of foreigners. If I cite the actual amount, he will mentally put me in a low social tier. This time, I decide to value honesty and tell him that my salary is the same as our local teachers. Without a pause, he immediately says: “No way! I’m sure the government is paying you extra.”

I shake my head. “They aren’t, actually. I really do receive the same amount as our local teachers. This is what being a volunteer means.” Little Bee looks at me in disbelief. “No way…” I shrug my shoulders and luckily the question is not asked again.

The rest of the time at the restaurant passes easily. Another case of beer is steadily consumed though small glasses. YXQ, who has been faring well with the beer despite her allergy, discovers that all the caps to bottles read “Get another free beer”. Despite the heavy drinking since the first restaurant, the owner quickly brings another case and two bottles are instantly opened and poured evenly in our shot glasses. The quiet, younger man—Yang Ba—grabs a bottle that is still half full and desperately chugs it. No one toasts him. He is very drunk and YQ, our driver, notices his behavior. Quickly and decisively, YQ stands up, pulls the beer out of Yang Ba’s hand, and looks at him with a sharp frown and furrowed eyes.

“You!”

I cannot understand the rest of what YQ shouts at Yang Ba in fangyan, but Little Bee, our local teacher, and YXQ shift uncomfortably and find another wall to look at. I shoot a glance at YXQ, but she looks back with an empty face. The shouting ends just as abruptly as it started. The conversation is ended as Yang Ba swaggers behind my back and out the door, muttering something about the van and sleep.

“Should we…” I gulp, breaking the silence, “should we…uh…go after him?” I do not smile and neither does YQ. He swats his hand as a way of brushing off my concern. The table falls silent again. As if on some unspoken cue, Little Bee chuckles: “Wang ba.” Old turtle.

The toast is far from the last of the evening. Eventually, we make our way to our local teacher’s room and continue the drinking. I had lost count of the number of cases of beer we had gone through, which did not include the beer that our local teachers drank the day before. I checked my phone for the time. Almost midnight. I throw a glance at YXQ. We nodded and made our goodbye toasts, which makes everyone get to their feet and down a last shot of beer with a hearty “Gan bei!” We then head out into the night.

 

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Only two days pass before YQ contacts YXQ and I again. We both receive a midday text: “Come with my friends and me to have fun!” With no mention of time, I shoot a reply back: “What? Now?” The answer is affirmative. I frown. I type out that I have class and classwork to prepare for. Hanging out on the weekends is fine, but drinking on a Thursday afternoon is going too far. My phone instantly vibrates with another reply. “I’m coming over now.” Afraid that YQ didn’t understand me, I reply again, “No, I have class and preparation.” My phone buzzes. “We’re coming over now.” The words make me uneasy. Who is “we”? I put my phone away in my pocket, leave my computer open and exit the teacher’s office.

A floor below I find YXQ chatting with our local Chinese literature teacher. They smile and wave as I walk over.

“Ah-Du! What’s the matter? You looked worried!” The local teacher looks at me with a  keen eye.

“I..uh….” Not sure how to start explaining the situation, I glance at YXQ. “I got a text from YQ.”

“Oh, really? I got one earlier too. He wants to go out and drink. I don’t want to go.” YXQ pulls out her phone.

The local teacher nudges YXQ. “Who is YQ?” YXQ rolls her eyes: “It’s the art teacher’s drinking friend.”

The local teacher looks at me: “You shouldn’t go out. They will just want to get drunk.”

I grimace. “Yeah, I guessed that. I’m not going out. We have classes to prepare for, but YQ is…insistent. He’s been texting me that he’s coming here. Now. What should we do?”

“Just ignore him.” The local teacher’s commentary is less than helpful. I look directly at YXQ. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and thumb my password.

“I am ten minutes away. Come to the front gate.” I wordlessly pass the phone over to YXQ.

“I have class next hour. Just come and sit in on my class, that way he won’t see us.” Deciding that hiding would be better than confronting him, I pick up my notebook and follow YXQ into class. Our local teacher heads to a different classroom.

A couple minutes into the class, and I glance over my shoulder into the main school courtyard. I spot YQ walking from the entrance to the classrooms. My phone buzzes. I pull out my phone in order to shut off the power and find that it isn’t YQ calling. It’s the police.