Notes of a Crocodile by Qiu Miaojin

Author:Qiu Miaojin
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781681370774
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2017-04-11T16:00:00+00:00

2

1989. Shui Ling. Gongguan Road. My Romantic Tragedy, round two.

“There—it’s for you!”

It was a winter morning in a season identical to the year before. I’d just finished a swimming lesson and was shivering from the cold. On that rare occasion when I’d woken up early, the athletic fields were covered in a layer of dew. I was riding down the sidewalk when a bicycle cut across my path—a letter was tossed into my basket before the bicycle turned and sped off. I almost squealed. It was Shui Ling.

“What are you doing here?” Pedaling fast to catch up to her, I managed to find the warm and gracious tone I’d always reserved for her. I’d imagined this scenario a million times before, and now it was happening. Over the past eighteen months, I’d spotted her on campus from a distance from time to time. Having been burned once, I’d decided to make a break for it if she actually approached me. I was sure that if she started talking to me, I would die. I never expected to stay so calm. It felt as if my tears were absorbed by a giant bath towel before they could seep out, and there I was, as cheerful as ever.

She didn’t notice me, and yet she didn’t seem entirely focused on riding, either. She stared at the road ahead, pedaling slowly, as if in a trance, oblivious to the sights and sounds around her. Her purple scarf. I was supposed to be the masculine one, and yet her elegance in a simple scarf and jeans left me weak at the knees. I rode alongside her until we reached the intersection. No matter how I tried to coax her, she continued straight ahead. As I waited for her to cross, my now softened heart was wrung by the thought of being involved with her again. I stopped and watched her ride into the distance.

I went home. After intense deliberation, I headed back to campus and sat behind her in class. Unable to look away from her, I stared furtively instead. Her expression hadn’t changed. Engrossed in the lecture, she seemed to be off in some faraway place, and it only stirred pangs of misery inside me. I squinted. She was within arm’s reach, yet there was a canyon between us. I could practically touch her, but every time I summoned all my strength to sidle up to her, to reach out to her, I imagined myself backing away again and again. All I could do was stare.

She’d been silently resisting me for a while now. She wanted to avoid me, to get away from me. Meanwhile I was trailing her like a spider gliding along a thread. The purple envelope she’d dropped in my basket contained a vaguely sad poem conveying the sentiment that it was meant to turn out this way. And with that, the conflicting forces of attraction and repulsion were set off, desire was piqued in a mix of rapture and pain—and I completely lost myself.

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