In the Crossfire

Since his mother’s arrival, Tian and his wife had slept in different rooms. That night he again stayed in the study, sleeping on a pull-out couch. He didn’t go upstairs to say goodnight to Connie, afraid she’d demand that he send the old woman back to China right away. Also, if he shared the bed with Connie, Meifen would lecture him the next day, saying he must be careful about his health and mustn’t indulge in sex. He’d heard her litany too often: some women were vampires determined to suck their men dry; this world had gone to seed – nowadays fewer and fewer young people were willing to become parents, and all avoided responsibilities; it was capitalism that corrupted people’s souls and made them greedier and more selfish. Oh, how long-winded she could become! Just the thought of her prattling would set Tian’s head reeling.

Before leaving for work the next morning, he drew a map of the nearby streets for his mother and urged her to go out some so that she might feel less lonesome – ‘stir-crazy’ was actually the expression that came to his mouth, but he didn’t let it out. She might like some of the shops downtown and could buy something with the eighty dollars he’d just given her. ‘Don’t be afraid of getting lost,’ he assured her. She should be able to find her way back as long as she had the address he’d written down for her – someone could give her directions.

At work Tian drank a lot of coffee to keep himself awake. His scalp was numb and his eyes heavy and throbbing a little as he was crunching numbers. If only he could have slept two or three more hours a day. Ever since his mother had come, he’d suffered from sleep deprivation. He’d wake up before daybreak, missing the warmth of Connie’s smooth skin and their wide bed, but he dared not enter the master bedroom. He was certain she wouldn’t let him snuggle under the comforter or touch her. She always gave the excuse that her head would go numb and muddled in class if they had sex early in the morning. That day at work, despite the strong coffee he’d been drinking, Tian couldn’t help yawning and had to take care not to drop off.

Towards mid-morning Bill Nangy, the manager of the company, stepped into the large, low-ceilinged room and went up to Tracy Malloy, whose cubicle was next to Tian’s. ‘Tracy,’ Bill said, ‘can I speak to you in my office a minute?’

All eyes turned to plump Tracy as she walked away with their boss, her head bowed a little. The second she disappeared past the door, half a dozen people stood up in their cubicles, some grinning while others shook their heads. Tracy had started working here long before Tian. He liked her, a good-natured thirty-something, though she talked too much. Others had warned her to keep her mouth shut at work, but she’d never mended her ways.

A few minutes later Tracy came out, scratching the back of her ear, and forced a smile. ‘Got the axe,’ she told her colleagues, her eyes red and watery. She slouched into her cubicle to gather her belongings.

‘It’s a shame,’ Tian said to her, and rested his elbow on top of the chest-high wall, making one of his sloping shoulders higher than the other.

‘I knew this was coming,’ she muttered. ‘Bill allowed me to stay another week, but I won’t. Just sick of it.’

‘Don’t be too upset. I’m sure more of us will go.’

‘Probably. Bill said there’ll be more layoffs.’

‘I’ll be the next, I guess.’

‘Don’t jinx yourself, Tian.’

Tracy put her eyeglass case beside her coffee cup. She didn’t have much stuff – a few photos of her niece and nephews and of a Himalayan cat named Daffie, a half-used pack of chewing gum, a pocket hairbrush, a compact, a romance novel, a small Ziploc bag containing rubber bands, ballpoints, Post-its, dental floss, a chap stick. Tian turned his eyes away as though the pile of her belongings, not enough to fill her tote bag, upset him more than her dismissal.

As Tracy was leaving, more people got up and some spoke to her. ‘Terribly sorry, Tracy.’ ‘Take care.’ ‘Good luck.’ ‘Keep in touch, Tracy.’ Some of the voices actually sounded relieved and even cheerful. Tracy shook hands with a few and waved at the rest while mouthing ‘Thank you.’

The second she went out the door, George, an orange-haired man who always wore a necktie at work, said, ‘This is it,’ as if to assure everyone that they were all safe.
‘I don’t think so. More of us will get canned,’ Tian said gloomily.

Someone cackled, as if Tian had cracked a joke. He didn’t laugh or say another word. He sat down and tapped the space bar on the keyboard to bring the monitor back to life.