So with good management of my injury, I was able to push through and continue to dance in physically demanding lead roles. I couldn’t believe my life now. All I wanted to do was dance, and I was doing exactly that – with Li.
During another performance of Giselle, I came back to the wings to find Li lying on the floor unable to move.
‘Help me roll over,’ he said. He got up slowly.
‘Are you injured, Li?’ I was concerned.
‘I’m fine,’ he simply replied.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked. He didn’t look it.
He just nodded. I could tell he was in a lot of pain, but I also knew from his stern expression that he wanted no fuss made. So we continued with the second act. He lifted me above his head just as effortlessly as he had always done in rehearsal, but I knew he must be in excruciating pain. I found out later that he’d had a bad fall and injured his back at the Moscow International Ballet Competition the year before and he must have exacerbated that injury. I couldn’t believe he had finished the show with all the partnering work! After that, I pretty much knew that this man could do anything he set his mind to. I was in awe of his determination, strength and professionalism.
During this tour Li and I became much closer and he told me about some of his problems with his girlfriend, Linda. I instinctively knew their relationship wasn’t going to work, based on what he told me, but he was determined to keep it going. Maybe because he already had a failed marriage. I’d learned that his marriage to Elizabeth Mackey, also a dancer, at the time of his defection, hadn’t worked out. He had been devastated by the marriage break-up. They were both just too young and came from different cultures, had different dreams and also a language barrier.
The more I got to know Li, the more I discovered what a kind, gentle soul he was. His integrity and sunny nature, and his unguarded and unassuming charm, moved me. I even found his broken English and unfashionable clothes charming. Of course, there was also the ballet side of things I liked about him. My heart went out to him when he was blaming himself for his failed marriage, and for the challenges in his relationship with Linda.
‘Li, I see how you treat people every day and I see all your relationships with friends. I can’t believe you could be the problem,’ I told him. I stopped myself saying, ‘You are the most beautiful person I have ever met.’
I knew I was falling for him at this point. I knew deeply who he was because I’d danced with him for a year and been with him on a daily basis. I knew this man was special. I wanted to make him happy and I sensed that to do so would make me happy. I knew at the bottom of my heart that I would love him if he felt the same about me, which I wasn’t entirely sure of yet.
A couple of days later, we were having dinner alone. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, despite his imperfect English. We had no trouble understanding each other. We shared stories about our respective families, laughed and were having a great time. Li asked me many questions about my family that night and about my time in London. Of course, I had a lot of questions for him too.
‘How is your family, Li?’ I asked.
‘They’re okay, but I’m worried about them all times,’ he replied.
‘Why, Li?’
‘They are too poor. Not enough food. Not enough clothes. Winter is too cold. No heating.’
From his expression and the way he spoke, I could clearly see his love and worry for his parents and six brothers. I could feel his pain. Before I could say anything to comfort him, he continued: ‘I dream about them. I feel guilty.’
‘Why is that?’
‘I have more than them. They have nothing.’
‘But you can help them,’ I said.
‘No. I will never be allowed go back see them. I can’t help them. I feel hopeless,’ he replied.
I was heartbroken for him. I couldn’t really comprehend the depth of his turmoil and emotional suffering. I desperately wanted to help him but I didn’t know how. I tried to make him laugh. ‘I was right about why people defected. You did it because of the dried yams, right?’ I teased. He had told me earlier that he and his family virtually survived on dried yams and he’d be happy to never see yams again as long as he lived.
I hated seeing him upset, and tried to comfort him. Maybe it was because I loved him so. Maybe it was because of how lovingly he spoke of his brothers and his beloved mother and father, or Niang and Dia, as he called them. The defection had been incredibly difficult for him. While his parents had been allowed to visit him in America the year before and had finally seen him dance, it had been over eight years since he had last seen the rest of his family, and he feared he would never be allowed to return to China.
‘Of course you will!’ I reassured him, unable to even contemplate never seeing my own big, noisy family again. Li’s ability to push forward despite that big dark cloud showed me the quality of this man yet again. ‘Li, I’m sure you will be allowed to see them soon.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Why are you so certain about this?’ I asked.
‘Chinese government hate defector, just like Russian Government. Just look at Baryshnikov and Nureyev. They have never been allowed to go back to Russia.’
I knew he had a point, and I was at a loss as to what to say next.
‘I don’t think I can help them as I dream,’ he continued, and gulped a big mouthful of his beer as if to wash down his sorrows.
I was so sad for him. What a torturous situation. I wondered how he could even get up and go to work every day with this kind of suffering. What strength it would have taken him to just survive. He wiped the tears from his face. It would have taken so much for him to let his guard down. I felt such compassion and sympathy towards him. I was getting very emotional too. I desperately wanted to comfort and help him. I reached across the table and grabbed his hands.
‘You’ll go back and see them again. You will,’ I told him.
Li responded by squeezing my hands, but then released them to wipe more tears. ‘I hope so. I will never give up my hopes.’ Then, quickly, he said, ‘I want this a happy night. Let’s not talk about China any more.’
‘Okay. What do you want to talk about?’ I asked.
‘You like books. I see you read all times.’
The unexpected topic and the imperfect grammar made me smile. ‘You should say, “I see you reading all the time”, not “all times”.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ he replied earnestly. ‘Please correct my English, Mary.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Yes. English very difficult . . . very different.’
The rest of the evening became lighter and happier. I could sense the rhythm speeding up and thought I saw Li’s eyes sparkle across the candlelight. Could he be feeling this way too? I asked myself.
Then Li asked a question that took me by surprise: ‘Are you and Matz together still, Mary?’
Ever since I’d arrived in Houston and my feelings for Li had grown, I had repeatedly questioned my feelings for Matz. I thought carefully before I answered: ‘I have deep feelings for Matz, and he’s a wonderful man, but to be totally honest I don’t think he’s the one.’
From that moment I knew that Li was interested in me, and that our feelings for each other were mutual. At the end of that night as we said goodnight, I told him, ‘It is probably inevitable that we’ll be together.’ Li drew me to him and we kissed – our first kiss, but neither of us said another word.