“Well, you were wrong,” said the young man, “You know you were wrong.”
His older companion shook his head. “But People take it the wrong way. Sure, that’s what I said, but, really, it was nothing.”
“They heard you. You should not have said that.”
“Okay. Okay. But, you know, People jump to conclusions. They get offended for no good reason.”
The older man looked up and couldn’t help but smile when he saw the young waitress approaching over the younger man’s shoulder. She was well fed, stocky. Her complexion was ruddy with many blemishes. Maybe, he thought, because she spent so much time in the diner. The greasy smoke from the frying fish and rice could ruin a young woman’s skin. She held her order book expectantly.
“Let’s order. Let’s just order our food. I’m tired of thinking about it.”
“Gentlemens, may I will offer you many today specials, various?”
The older man nodded at his younger companion then at the waitress.
“You use the English language well, young woman. I’m thinking you are practicing.”
She smiled at him. A bit of a blush and a big grin, a little pride tinged with a smidgen of embarrassment.
“For me, I pardon, but I hear you over there from over there and well, here, and you talk English so I calculate out you not mind me use.”
“We are fine with it. If your employer is agreeable that is. May I assume he knows?”
The younger man listened to the interchange and noticed how she glanced toward the back of the restaurant where the manager was forcibly tapping in entries on the keyboard of an ancient cash register.
“It be okay,” she said, “he okay, I’m sure, but maybe I better hurry. It’s be good you tell me what you like to have to eat today.”
The older man and the younger man exchange glances. The young man started first and in English ordered the Lanzhou hand pulled noodles, Gaifan rice dish, the Jiaozi dumplings, hot and spicy malatang soup. He pointed to the place on the menu where it was listed as a full lunch, so he would get the sides of beef and fried vegetables. When it was the older man’s turn to order, he pointed to the sea food platter.
She scribbled quickly, focused intently on her notebook, her head nodded knowingly as the dishes were ordered, more nervous smiles, a couple of giggles, and then she scurried away.
The older man picked up the kettle of hot tea and poured them each a cup.
They remained silent as they savored the aroma and took tiny sips of the scorching liquid.
“You are not taking this serious enough,” the young man said. “A resolution was prepared by the University. The Chancellor was going to sign it immediately. I got him to hold off. For now. His forbearance may not last. You may very well find yourself turned out. You would be unemployed. And unemployable. The party can be rid of you anytime. You must already know this. Have you told your wife?”
“Why should I have to do that? She has so much to worry about already. Her mother is not well. And she still lives with us. Is up all hours of the night. She never sleeps. My wife is exhausted. What I said wasn’t anything, anyway. An offhand remark. Everyone is overreacting.”
“Well, if you lose your job over this she will certainly know then. I’m not sure you will get another one. This stuff spreads. It’s on the computers. It’s on all the servers. It never goes away. People at the University are not happy. They are spreading the story. I think it may go all the way to central downtown next. If it shows up online everywhere, well, I’m not sure what you can do. Nobody downtown will stand up for you. You will have no backing. They are all too frightened.”
“But this is all so unnecessary. They exaggerate. It never came out like they are saying.”
“You know it doesn’t matter. Online the lie becomes the truth. All the forums. People quickly forget the real truth. Or it becomes irrelevant. Or they don’t care. Mobs are mobs because it’s fun to gang up and beat down the weak ones. The heart quickens. There is a release. It’s almost sexual you know. The Party understands such things.”
The waitress brought the soup. As she ladled it in the bowls, the older man looked around the restaurant and then through the window out on the streets. Busy. Things moving fast. People. cars, contrivances of all kinds, moving people and products about the metropolis. So many people living their lives. So close together. All completely unaware of his troubles. Over a simple little statement.
Yes, he thought, they all are oblivious to his crisis. He bet they couldn’t care less about some professor’s trouble. They had their own troubles. His life was privileged compared to theirs. All his colleagues said so. Preached it all the time. Injected it into every argument. Especially when he disputed some point they were trying to make. It was a way they could always win.
The waitress was trying to banter with his young friend, but his friend was growing impatient. He thought about how the young are always so impatient, so earnest, though at least his young friend continued to make an effort to use the English the waitress so obviously preferred.
“You speak well,” the older man interjected, “You should always practice. We could all use a little practice too. Being good at English will be important always, I think.”
She beamed and went away pushing her cart.
“I wonder when she got here,” he said. “To the city. Must be one of the new ones. Maybe from the provinces or the peninsula. Korean perhaps. They just keep coming. I wonder how she got in. They find a way; they always find a way.”
“You should not say such things. Someone could hear.”
“But I meant nothing derogatory. Bless her. She’s a cute one. She will do well.”
“You will have to apologize to the party, you know. Maybe others.”
“For what I said? Why should I? I said nothing wrong.”
“But you shouldn’t have said it at all. Its best just not to say things like that.”
The young man looked outside at the banners fluttering in the wind over the avenue where the March would be held.
The older man saw where he was looking.
“Are you going to the March?”
“Yes. I go every time. It’s not so hard. You go, be seen by someone who will note your presence, then you can sneak away. It wouldn’t hurt if you went this time. It would be best if they saw you out there. In support you know.”
“I hate them. Every Friday they march. The same thing. The bullhorns. The criticisms. The self-loathing. Everybody cringing in the doorways.”
The younger man looked around to see if anyone was listening. They didn’t seem to be. He bent his head and shoveled a dumpling in his mouth. He chewed and smiled.
“This is good,” he said. “The food is so tasty. I like eating here. I hope they don’t close it down.”
“Why would they close it down?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There could be reasons.” He acted like he knew something and wasn’t going to talk about it.
“Like if the owner said the wrong thing. Like me?” The older man was making an effort at being sardonic. The younger man at first didn’t seem to get it. After a pause, he looked up.
“Or if the waitress did. Practicing English with the wrong patron can be dangerous.” The younger man said, shaking his head resignedly. “Easy to say something one might, on reflection, regret.”
“Even so, what’s that to do with the owner? She’s just a stupid girl, stumbling with the language.” The older man’s voice had gotten too loud. His young friend used his hand, the palm inverted downward, to signal he should lower the volume.
“The owner is responsible,” said the young man. “We all are in a way. Always best to pretend you didn’t hear the wrong thing, too.”
“Have you heard something? Will the marchers come in here? Will they smash it all up?”
The younger man didn’t reply. He ate another dumpling and slurped his soup. He shrugged his shoulders.
“So, we don’t come here again for lunch on Friday?” asked the older man. “Not as we usually do? Not anymore?”
The younger man shook his head.
The older man sat, his food untouched and watched the banners rustling over the avenue. There was a good view from the window. It was one reason why he loved to have lunch right here, this spot, their favorite table. As he looked way out in the bay, he could see the afternoon fog forming around the base of the Statue of Liberty.