"Maureen McHugh - China Mountain Zhang" - читать интересную книгу автора (McHugh Maureen F)

parents weren't rich and tinkering with genes is expensive. Maybe I would map close enough to Chinese
standard to pass, then again, maybe something in them would prove me Hidalgo. I don't apply so I don't
ever have to take the medical.
Pretty soon the steel is lying in pieces that can be carried away. I shut off the cutter, my goggles
lighten and I'm back in the real world. "Give it fifteen minutes to cool," I say, "then get it out of here." The
crew has been watching me cut, they'll stop to watch anything. The foreman stands there with his hands
on his hips. Waiguoren think that Chinese never show any expression, so of course, he's not showing
any and neither am I. So the crew thinks we are angry because they're not doing anything and drifts back
to work. They're a good crew except when Foreman Qian is here, then I can't get them to do a damn
thing.
"Zhang," the foreman says and so I follow him into the office. Inside, over the door it says "The
Revolution lives in the people's hearts" but the paint is wearing thin. It was probably painted during the
Great Cleansing Winds campaign. I don't think Foreman Qian is very pure ideologically, he has too much
interest in the bottom line. It is like the crucifix in the hall of the apartment where I grew up, something
everyone passes every day. I have no religion, neither Christ nor Mao Zedong.
"I often ask you, what you do with your life, you pretty good boy," Foreman Qian says. "We each
and each respect, dui budui?"
"Dui," I say. 'Right.'
"Here, you tech engineer, job so-so."
"Bu-cuo," I answer, 'Not bad.'
"I have daughter," Foreman Qian says, "Request you to my home come, meet her, hao buhao?"
I have the momentary sense that this conversation, which Foreman Qian and I have had before, has
just gone way out of my depth. "Foreman Qian," I say, stuttering, "IтАФI cannot тАж I am only tech
engineer тАж "
"Not be fool," he says and drops in Mandarin. "How old are you, twenty-five?"
"Twenty-six, sir."
"My wife and I, together we have one daughter. There is no one here for her, I would like her to meet
a nice young man."
"Foreman Qian," I do not know what to say.
"I have no son, and I will not get to go back to ChinaтАФ" He is a Chinese citizen and if the best he can
do is a job as a construction foreman, he's in disgrace. I wonder what Foreman Qian did during the
Great Cleansing Wind to get in trouble. "I have a cousin at Shanghai University. I would sponsor a
son-in-law there."
This is unexpected. This is disaster. Whatever has old Qian thinking that I would make a good
son-in-law? It looks great from the outside, offer a 26 year-old a chance at Shanghai University and
citizenship-by-marriage which is almost as good as born-inside-citizenship. Maybe I would get a chance
to stay inside, then his daughter would have a home there. Foreman Qian and his wife would retire to
China and live with their daughter and son-in-law.
"I understand that you have not even met my daughter," Foreman Qian says. "I mean nothing except
that you should meet."
"I cannot, Elder Qian," I am quaintly formal in my attempt to say something, falling back on school
book Mandarin, ludicrous phrases. "I am unworthy." Mea culpa. I am violently flushed, for the first time
in years I am so embarrassed that I actually feel hot. "I, I am a foreigner."
He waves that away. "Accident of birth place."
I open my mouth to say 'no', but I cannot say it. Not only is it rude, but I can't say it. I am impure, a
mongrel. I am an imposter. And there is more that he doesn't know. When I tell him what I am, he will
look foolish because he has mistaken me for Chinese, he will lose face. We will pretend that nothing was
ever said. Then when this job is finished he will inform me that the company can no longer use me. It is
not easy to find jobs.
"You think about it, meet her. Maybe you will not get along, maybe you will. No harm in meeting."