Nanjing Requiem

47




A FEW DAYS LATER we set out for the southwestern end of Jinling’s property to see the land Boren was offering. Apple and pear trees were bulky despite their leafless branches, and in the depths of the orchard some rooks were cawing like crazy. Old Liao appeared, trundling a load of bricks in a wheelbarrow. Even on such a wintry day the gardener wouldn’t stop working. He seemed ignorant of idleness, a typical peasant. Pointing at a path he’d newly paved with bricks, Mrs. Dennison said, “Nice job.” The man smiled without a word, then nodded at Minnie.

The land Boren offered was bumpy and overgrown with brambles, different from what we had expected. It would have to be leveled before it could be used. Also, because it was separated from Jinling’s property by a brook, it wouldn’t be easy to incorporate the land into the campus unless our college owned a length of the stream as well. Mrs. Dennison puckered her brow while the outer corners of her eyes drooped. I could tell she had misgivings.

“We will discuss this with the trustees and will let you know our answer soon,” Mrs. Dennison told Boren.

“Sure, no need to rush,” he said.

When the two women talked about the offer again, Mrs. Dennison was against buying it, saying it was just an acre of wasteland. Actually, it was 1.3 acres, at half price—four hundred yuan. Despite its bumpiness and its separation from our campus, Minnie believed we should jump at this opportunity. She said to Mrs. Dennison, “We’ll figure out how to use the land eventually. Let’s grab it.”

“No. At this time we mustn’t acquire anything we don’t need.”

“We have the money.”

“We must be frugal. The renovation will cost a fortune. You never know where an extra amount will have to be put up.”

“Please, it’s just four hundred yuan, a bargain.”

“No, I don’t want it.”

“I’m the dean of this college—my opinion doesn’t count at all?”

“Well, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Don’t you remember how hard you used to haggle with those landowners over tiny parcels of land?”

“That was then. Things have changed and we have to concentrate on the task at hand.”

“Since when have you become so shortsighted?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Can’t you see this is a windfall? We’ll need a lot of land for future development.”

“I don’t want to spend the money now.”

“It’s not your money.”

“Neither is it yours. If you love that piece of dirt so much, why not buy it for yourself?”

Mrs. Dennison’s last sentence put Minnie in mind of acquiring the land on her own. She talked with me about this. Since she wanted to spend the rest of her life here, she could build her home on that slope beside the babbling brook. From that spot you could see a good part of campus and enjoy peace and quiet. If the college provided her with a bungalow someday, the land still wouldn’t be wasted—she could donate it to Jinling or build a small folk school on it. She had been making one hundred yuan a month since the previous winter and had saved about eleven hundred yuan, too little to build her own house. But she would save more and buy the lot first.

Her reasoning made sense, so I encouraged her to buy the land. At such a low price she could sell it and make her money back whenever she wanted. We went to Boren’s three days later and wrapped up the purchase. The man was elated and even called Minnie “the goddess of generosity” when she told him she was acquiring the land for herself. This unnerved her. “Please don’t call me that,” she said, but he merely grinned, showing his square teeth.