Calls Across the Pacific by Zoë S. Roy

thanks,” Nina said, feeling relieved. “I appreciate your help.”
    â€œDon’t worry about the money.” The manager comforted her. “You don’t need to pay for it.”
    Back inside the store, the manager called the police immediately and reported the robbery.
    That night, when she lay down in bed, Nina recalled what had happened during the day. She became frightened all over again when she imagined the robber slashing her throat or even killing her. Bob’s words about life being more important than a wallet crossed her mind again.
    The next day was Sunday. She hesitated for a moment and lifted the phone receiver. Before she finished dialling, she stopped and perched herself on the edge of the bed for a moment while a memory of Bob flooded her mind. Finally, she picked up the phone and punched his number.
    She held her breath as she heard a young female’s voice say, “Hello?”
    After a second of hesitation, Nina asked, “May I speak to Bob?”
    â€œHe’s still in bed. May I take a message?” the woman said with a yawn.
    â€œNo, thanks,” Nina answered and hung up the phone. Flopping onto her bed, she knew she had completely lost him. Pierced by an acute loneliness, she sobbed. Their paths had crossed briefly and the only some nice memories would remain. She reached her hand out to the night table and pulled out a tissue from its box to wipe away her tears.
    In September 1973, Nina started her junior year. When she didn’t have any classes, she went to the library to read. Sometimes, she took notes for later use from a pile of periodicals. One day, she hurried along the hallway and passed an Asian woman, who spoke to her. “Are you going to the library?”
    Nina slowed down and smiled back. “Yes, are you?” The woman was in her forties and looked familiar to her. She scoured her memory for where she had seen her before.
    â€œI work in the library. I often see you in the reading room. Seems you’re always busy,” the librarian became talkative. “I came from China.”
    â€œMe, too,” Nina said. “Did you come here a long time ago?”
    â€œMy family escaped to Hong Kong after the Communists took over Mainland China. I was just a little girl when the landowners were denounced. I still remember how scared my parents were since they were landowners themselves.”
    â€œI don’t know much about that period. But I know enough about the political persecution during the Cultural Revolution.” Nina then asked, “How do you feel about your life now?”
    â€œI’m quite happy. Now the relations between these two countries have improved. I’d like to visit China someday,” said the librarian. “But the Red Guards are really terrifying.”
    â€œI think most of them have been sent to the countryside. They were used by Mao to attack his political rivals. They may’ve learned a lesson by now.”
    The woman looked at Nina with interest. “Really? That’s a relief. There’ve been too many political movements in China since 1949.”
    â€œIt’s easy to manipulate those who grow up under the red flag. I was a Red Guard, but they threw me out because my father was labelled an American spy and a traitor to the revolution.”
    â€œWhy was that?”
    â€œHe graduated from West Point Academy. Once he worked for Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist Army before joining the People’s Liberation Army.”
    â€œSo he betrayed Chiang Kai-shek’s government but not the communist revolution. The people who persecuted him suffered from a problem in logic,” the knowledgeable librarian said as they went into the library. She patted Nina’s arm. “It was so nice talking to you. I’ll see you around.” She walked into an office.
    On her way to the reading room, Nina paused at a catalogue cabinet, pulled a drawer out, and searched the cards