A Map for the Missing(96)

He continued to go through the items in the wardrobe for the rest of the afternoon. There were objects inside that he hadn’t thought about in years—marbles he and Yishou used to roll with the other village boys, angular toys carved from splintered wood. He only found one more item in that same shaky handwriting, on a government form for subsidies for veterans in the countryside. By this time, Yitian was sure of what he’d discovered. His father had filled out his name as the main claimant of the subsidies. Even those three characters, the ones that should have been most familiar to a person, were angular and blocky with uncertainty.





Thirty-six



Hanwen was lying in bed with Yuanyuan when Ayi came to the door. When she had returned home the night before and gone to check on him, she’d found his forehead burning hot. The heat of his soft skin against her palm read to her as a rebuke against what she’d done with Yitian that evening. Normally, she wasn’t superstitious like this, but ever since Yitian’s return, events seemed to arrange themselves in front of her like pieces on a chessboard daring her to make the connections between them.

She stayed in bed with him the next day, spooning him simple soups and soft mixtures of rock sugar and water while they both drifted in and out of sleep. She felt grateful for the illness, for the opportunity of tangible work, which kept her from thinking too much about Guifan and Yitian. She liked that when her mother had come to check on them, she’d been able to say, No, Ma, I can take care of this.

It was through this suspended sense of time that she heard Ayi’s voice, so dimly at first that she wasn’t sure whether it belonged to reality.

“Miss? Miss?”

“What is it?”

“There’s a phone call for you,” Ayi said.

Hanwen blinked rapidly to shake herself back to the room. She’d known she would have to speak with Yitian again eventually, but she’d thought there would have been more time to think over what she would say.

She slid out of bed and into her slippers. She tucked the blankets carefully around Yuanyuan’s body before getting up. She wanted to find any excuse to extend the time.

She inhaled and gathered her courage as she picked up the phone receiver.

“Yitian?”

“What?” The voice belonged to a woman, and Hanwen imagined absurdly for a moment that Yitian’s wife had called to berate her.

“I’m calling for Mrs. Wang?” the woman continued. “From the police chief? There was some news he asked to transmit to you.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“Is this Mrs. Wang?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Is now a good time? Should I call back?”

“No, no. Please.”

“Okay. We’ve heard something about the case you asked about.”

Hanwen reached for the first piece of paper she could find, a gridded sheet that Yuanyuan used to copy his characters for school. Her hand moved mechanically over the paper as the woman told her of the report they’d received of a man, likely about seventy, who’d been reported wandering around Five Groves Township. He’d said he needed to go to Hefei City. A shopkeeper—who’d later gone to the police—had given him some directions, but when she asked where he’d come from, he couldn’t remember the name of his home. He seemed lost and said he hadn’t eaten all day. The shopkeeper had offered him a meal and the man said he would come back the next morning to buy something from them, but never returned. Something about the old man’s manner didn’t sit right with the shopkeeper. When he didn’t show up the next morning as he said he would, she’d gone to the local police bureau to ask if they’d heard anything, and from there the story had traveled up.

Hanwen took down the address of the shop, thanked the woman, and hung up the phone. She flipped her address book until she found the number to Yitian’s hotel. She had no excuse to dawdle any longer. At least they would be able to talk about the disappearance. Maybe he would be so overtaken by the news that they wouldn’t have to speak about the previous night at all.

“Thank you for calling the Overseas’ Trading Hotel.” The woman’s voice was cloying and melodic.

“Hi, I’d like to speak with Tang Yitian? He’s staying in your hotel. In—” She scanned her notes. “Room six-oh-nine, I believe.”

“Room six-oh-nine? One moment.”

Hanwen waited.

“Hi, ma’am? The guest in room six-oh-nine already checked out this morning.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can you double-check? Maybe I got the room number wrong. Is there anyone named that in another room?”

“We do have a record of someone named Tang Yitian staying in that room, but he already checked out. This morning.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No.”

Hanwen hung up the phone. There was that old dizzy feeling in her head again. She couldn’t believe that he’d left like that, without even telling her. They’d made a mistake the night before, yes, but was she not worth, at least, a goodbye?

Her mother entered the living room.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“Yes, Ma. Just one moment.”

She picked up the phone again and dialed the number for the village office. Yitian had given it to her the first day in case the police needed information.