A Thousand Years of Good Prayers. Yiyun Li

       Extra

      GRANNY LIN WALKS IN THE STREET ON A NOvember afternoon with a stainless steel lunch pail in her hand. Inside the lunch pail is an official certificate from her working unit. “Hereby we confirm Comrade Lin Mei is honorably retired from Beijing Red Star Garment Factory,” says the certificate in bright golden characters.

      It does not say that Red Star Garment Factory has gone bankrupt or that, being honorably retired, Granny Lin will not receive her pension. Of course it will not provide such information, for these facts are simply not true. “Bankrupt” is the wrong word for a state-owned industry. “Internal reorganization” is what has been kindly omitted in the certificate. And, mind this, Granny Lin’s pension is being withheld only temporarily. For how long, the factory has no further information to offer.

      “There is always a road when you get into the mountain,” Auntie Wang, Granny Lin’s neighbor, says to her upon being informed of Granny Lin’s situation.

      “And there is a Toyota wherever there is a road.” The second line of Toyota’s commercial slips out before Granny realizes it.

      “There you go, Granny Lin. I know you are an optimistic person. Stay positive and you will find your Toyota.”

      But where on earth can she find a way to replenish her dwindling savings? For a few days Granny Lin adds, subtracts, and divides, and she decides that her savings will run out in a year—in two years if she can skip a meal here and there, go to bed right after sunset, and stay bundled up so that she does not have to feed the insatiable stove extra coal balls through the long winter of northern China.

      “Don’t worry,” Auntie Wang says the next time they meet each other at the market, looking down at the single radish Granny Lin has bought for her dinner, as plump as a Buddha, dwelling between her two palms. “You can always find someone and get married.”

      “Get married?” Granny Lin says, and blushes.

      “Don’t be so conservative, Granny Lin,” Auntie Wang says. “How old are you?”

      “Fifty-one.”

      “You are even younger than I am! I am fifty-eight, but I am not as old-fashioned as you. You know what? Young people no longer have a monopoly on marriage.”

      “Don’t make me a clown,” Granny Lin says.

      “I am serious, Granny Lin. There are so many old widowers in the city. I am sure there are rich and sick ones who need someone to take care of them.”

      “You mean, I can find a caretaker’s position for old people?” Granny Lin asks.

      Auntie Wang sighs and pokes Granny Lin’s forehead with a finger. “Use your brain. Not a caretaker but a wife. That way, you can at least inherit some cash when your husband dies.”

      Granny Lin gasps. She has never had a husband in her life, and the prospect of a dead husband frightens her. Yet Auntie Wang makes the decision for her right there and then, between two fish stands, and in a short time she finds Granny Lin a match.

      “Seventy-six. High blood pressure and diabetes. Wife just died. Living alone in a three-bedroom flat. Pension two thousand yuan a month. Both sons married and earning good money in the government,” Auntie Wang says, surprised that Granny Lin remains unimpressed. “Come on, Granny Lin, where else can you find such a good husband? The old man will die in no time, and the sons are so rich they won’t mind sparing some of the old man’s savings for you. Let me tell you, this is the most eligible family, as far as I know. Their doorsill has been worn away by the feet of the matchmakers. But of all the possible wives, they are interested only in you. Why? Because you are never married and you have no children. By the way, Granny Lin, how come you aren’t married? You never told us the reason.”

      Granny Lin opens and then closes her mouth. “It just happens,” she says.

      “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Anyway, they don’t want someone who has a litter of children and grandchildren. I wouldn’t trust such a stepmother, either. Who can guarantee that she won’t steal from the old man for her children? But you are the best. I have told them that, were there one honest person left on earth, it would be you, Granny Lin. What are you hesitating for?”

      “Why don’t they hire someone to take care of him?” Granny Lin asks, thinking of the two sons who might soon become her stepchildren. “Won’t it be cheaper in the long run?”

      “Do you not know what those young girls from the nanny market are like? They are lazy, and they steal money—husbands, too, if they are hired by young couples. They leave the old people sitting in their own shit all day long. To hire such a girl? Ugh. It would only push him to death quicker.”

      Granny Lin has to agree that, indeed, an older woman as a wife is a wise choice. Accompanied by Auntie Wang, Granny Lin goes to the interview with the two sons and their wives. An hour of questioning later, the two sons exchange a look, and ask if Granny Lin needs some time to consider the marriage offer. Not having much to think about, she moves into her new home in a week. Her husband, Old Tang, is sicker