"I know I'm just drifting along."

"We must find our way."

Nan nodded without another word. His heart was filled with pain and gratitude. If his wife had been of two hearts with him, this family would have fallen apart long ago. He must find a way to make a decent living and mustn't despair of himself.

PINGPING was mending Heidi's bathrobe in the kitchen while talking with Heidi. On the table were three stacks of laundered clothes she had just folded. Outside, the clouds had broken, electric wires and leafy branches still glistening with rainwater. The lilacs and young dogwood trees had lowered their white and pinkish blossoms in the glowing afternoon sun. Beyond the shrubs two rabbits scampered about, now nibbling grass and now chasing each other. Ping-ping and Nan were both allergic to pollen. Nan was extremely sensitive to oak and dogwood, whereas Pingping didn't know what she was allergic to. She was most miserable in late April, when her nose would dribble and swell and she'd keep a wad of tissue in her pocket all the time. Nan would repeat in English "April is the cru-elest month," though his wife had no idea it was a line of poetry. The previous spring when pollen had set in, they had thought they were suffering from the flu and had taken Tylenol, Bayer, and other cold pills available over the counter, but none of the medicines helped much. Not until mid-May had Nan figured out what it was, but by then the miserable season was almost over for them.

Pingping was glad that a morning shower had washed away a lot of pollen so the air would be somewhat clean for a day or two. She and Heidi had been talking about yesterday evening's quarrel. Heidi told her that Eric, her late husband's younger brother, was a ladies' man, so she wondered if Nan was the same.

" Nan doesn't like woman," Pingping said.

Heidi looked surprised. "What did you say? You mean, he's more fond of men?"

"No, he's not gay."

"Then what's his problem? Most men like women." "His mind."

"I don't get it." Heidi shook her newly permed hair, which made her head appear larger than usual, her cheeks shiny and pinkish, and her face three or four years younger than the past week.

"How can I say this?" Pingping said. "Back in China he like pretty womans-women, but now he always say he's tired." She was too ashamed to reveal he didn't love her.

"I know some men are like that, especially after they've had too many women."

" Nan doesn't have affair."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just know. When he come to USA, I told him he can have another woman if he want, but just don't forget me and Taotao, and don't get disease."

"Wow, you said that?"

"Yes."

"What did he do then?"

"Nothing. He said he has no time to chase women, he's too tired. He want to study hard and then come back home."

"Something could be wrong with his mind. You know what? He should see a shrink."

"What is shrink?"

"A psychiatrist. Nathan has seen Dr. Blumenthal in Wellesley every Tuesday afternoon since his dad died." "That help him?"

"Of course, a lot. He's steadier now. He used to be very moody." "Maybe Nan should meet that shrink too. How much it cost?" "It depends. I guess around seventy an hour." "I see."

Heidi put on her reading glasses and began leafing through a mailorder catalog while Pingping spread the bathrobe on the table to see whether there was another spot that needed patching. She was impressed that Heidi wouldn't throw away the tattered robe. Both of them turned silent for the time being.

Later that afternoon Pingping asked Nathan what Dr. Blumenthal had done to him on Tuesday. The boy blinked his whitish eyes and said, "Nothing. He just listened to me talk."

"Really? He make money just by listen to you?"

"Sure. He also asked questions."

"What kind?"

"Like 'How do you feel today?' and 'Did Scott bug you again last week?' "

"I can do that." She was amazed.

That evening she told Nan about her conversation with Heidi and suggested he consider seeing a psychiatrist. He had just received his diploma for his M.A., which had come in a large envelope braced with a rectangle of cardboard, so he was in a pleasant frame of mind and was about to play checkers with Taotao. He said in response to Pingping's suggestion, "I don't believe in psychiatry. Why should we throw away money like that?"

"Nathan said it made him feel much better."

"But it doesn't really calm him down. Don't you see he still has an outburst every now and then?"

"I'm afraid you might lose your mind."

"I've already lost most of it. I can't get worse." He gave a short laugh. "Don't worry. I can talk to you. We can be each other's psychiatrists."

"At least you should give it a try."

"Even if it helps, I won't do that. You know how hard it is for us to make a dollar. We have to save as much as we can. In this country, without money you can't do anything. We should move out of this house soon and have to have more cash in hand."

In reality, Nan didn't often speak to Pingping about his feelings, which were disordered and unclear to himself. If he couldn't help it anymore, he just poured his misery out on her, and once in a while she did the same to him. In appearance he was peaceful and gentle, but at heart he felt as if he were running a temperature, about to collapse. But somehow he always managed to pull himself together and go through his daily drudgery without a hitch. He didn't have time to read books now, though at work he tried to dip into his dictionary whenever it was possible. How he missed his former job at the factory, where he had been able even to catnap if he was tired of reading. Nowadays, besides the dictionary, he also carried with him a small notebook in which he had copied out some poems, both English and Chinese. He wanted to memorize the lines he loved.

NEVER having contacted Harbin Teachers College, Nan couldn't send its approval letter to the Chinese consulate to have his passport renewed, but it was said that lately the policy for such a renewal had changed and that no permission from one's former work unit was required anymore. So when Nan received a letter from the Chinese consulate one day in mid-May, he was pleased, fingering the booklet enclosed in a manila envelope with the thought that it must contain his passport. It did indeed. But when he opened the gilt-worded cover, he was stunned by a scarlet seal that declared cANCELED.

Both he and Pingping were devastated, knowing this was the official revenge for his involvement in the plan for the kidnap. Though Nan, shocked and outraged, couldn't think coherently for hours, the significance of the cancellation gradually sank in. Now the door back to China was shut and he had become a countryless man. What was to be done? The more he thought, the more angry he felt. Why had he been so passive, letting the Chinese consulate deliver blows on him at will? Why should he remain an obedient subject of that ruthless country? Shouldn't people be entitled to abandon their country if all the authorities did was make them sacrifice and suffer? He'd get naturalized here as soon as possible. By any means, he'd better discard the baggage of China so as to travel light. He must become an independent man.

With a feeling of forced pride and a mind in turmoil, Nan went to Hampden Park in the afternoon. He didn't patrol the parking lot but instead leaned against a resident's SUV with two bullet holes in its door. He wasn't supposed to rest like this, but today he didn't care. As he was still musing about his revoked passport, Maria, the thirtyish Latina living on the third floor of the north building, appeared and beckoned him over. Reluctantly Nan went up to her. "You need help?" he asked.