The Unwanted (15 page)

He proceeded to scale the tall wall like a monkey. He leaped over the barbed wires on top, dangling in the air for a moment before jumping to the ground on my side.

“How do you know that man is my uncle?” I asked him as he got up, brushing the grass from his clothes.

“Everybody knows everything around here. Besides, I have been watching. I saw those bastards kill your dog.”

Tears once again threatened to blur my vision. I made no comment to his remark and resumed my digging. The boy took the small shovel from my brother's hand and began to scoop aside the grass. His digging, much like his wall climbing, was a lot faster than mine. I could feel his intense gaze silently studying the two of us. His almond-shaped eyes, like two black holes dotted with fire, sparkled on his face.

“What's your name?” I asked him.

“I am called Duy. You are Kien, correct? I heard Miss San call your name earlier in school. I don't know if you remember seeing me there, but we are in the same class. I sat by the window. Nice poem, by the way.” Again, I made no comment, and he continued, “Anyhow, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. This is Jimmy, my brother.” Jimmy looked up with a grin.

Duy leaned closer to me and whispered, “For a son of a capitalist, you sure know a lot about the Communists. Where did you learn the teachings of Chairman Ho? Wait! Don't tell me! I don't want to know.” He paused, then switched to a more sympathetic tone. “Don't feel bad about your cousins. They are a bunch of jerks. Nobody around here likes your aunt's family either. My dad says that they're definitely low-class minions. Someday, me and my brothers will find a chance to kick their asses. You are different than them, which I like. If you want to, you and your brother can come over to my house sometimes. I have a dog. He really is a lot of fun, you'll see once you play with him.”

“What's the name of your dog?” my brother asked.

“Goofy.”

“Goofy?” my brother repeated, laughing. “That's a funny name.”

“Funny name for a funny dog,” Duy replied.

By now, the hole we were digging was deep enough to fit Lulu in. I put the shovel aside and sat on the ground beside her. Taking my time, I touched her one last time before I set her into the soft earth. We watched in silence as the dirt began to cover her little body, bit by bit, until she was out of sight. Duy laid back the grass to cover the ground above her grave.

“Thank you very much,” I muttered to him.

Duy shifted on his feet. “I should get going. It's almost curfew time.”

“Don't you want to get some guava before you go?” I asked him.

“No, not tonight. Someone is watching us. Got to go. Good night, and see you in school tomorrow. Ah, Kien, now that you know I am in your class, for heaven's sake, please hang out with me instead of spending all day around the schoolyard by yourself, will you?” He rushed through his sentences, and before I had a chance to reply, he leaped over the wall and vanished into the night.

As Jimmy and I neared the back door to our house, a thin whistle, coming from the foot of my uncle's house, stopped us in our tracks. A shadow by a column waved, beckoning me closer. I recognized the petite frame of my aunt's eldest daughter, Moonlight. My earlier experience with her brothers prompted me to walk away, but my curiosity overcame that impulse. I turned to my brother.

“Go inside, Jimmy. I'll be right back,” I ordered him. Before he could protest, I pushed him through the back door and ran over to meet Moonlight. She sat on her buttocks, with her legs folded against her chest so that her chin could rest on her knees. The light from the window barely kept her thin body from blending into the surrounding blackness. She coughed slightly, using her hands to cover her mouth in a polite manner.

I walked in front of her. “What do you want?” I asked as aggressively as I could.

“Nothing,” she said. Her lips trembled as she spoke to me. “I have been watching you, Kien. I saw you bury your dog. You must feel terrible about what has happened. I want to apologize for my brothers. They were very mean to you earlier this afternoon, weren't they?”

I didn't know how to answer her. She patted the ground beside her and said, “Sit down.”

I did what I was told.

“Do you know my name, Kien?” she asked.

I nodded. “Anh Nguyet.”

“Yes. But do you know how to say it in English?” she asked.

I shook my head and she smiled. Her hand stroked my head.

“Moonlight. Doesn't that sound pretty?”

“Yes, very pretty,” I agreed.

“I want you to call me Moonlight from now on, the way my friends used to back in college,” she said. Her hands returned to cover her lower face, muffling her mouth so that she spoke as though she had a mouth full of food. “I saw a boy with you earlier. Where is he?”

“He went home,” I replied.

“Did he tell you why he didn't steal any guava today?”

I shook my head. “He said someone was watching him. He might have meant you, cousin.”

“Moonlight,” she corrected me.

“Moonlight,” I repeated.

“Did he mention anything about his brothers to you?”

I decided to be straight with her. “He said that someday his brothers will beat your brothers up, because everybody thinks your brothers are a bunch of bullies.”

Moonlight laughed and again ruffled my hair. “No kidding, he said that to you? I doubt that would ever happen, though. We have been neighbors for many years, but I never saw those boys start a fight.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because…Oh, forget it! You are too young to understand.” The grown-up emphasis in her voice dismissed me.

“Try me. I understand lots of things,” I said proudly.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe you can understand, but can you keep a secret?” she asked.

I nodded and waited impatiently.

“Be careful,” Moonlight warned me. “If you speak to anyone of what I am about to tell you, my brothers will come looking for you. And I promise you, you will be reunited with Lulu soon after.”

“Moonlight, I won't tell anyone, I promise. Not even Jimmy,” I answered her.

“All right then, here it goes,” she began. “This story involves that little boy's big brother and me. We have known each other for a long time. His name is Ty Tong.” Her head tilted to rest against her knees, and her arms wrapped themselves intimately around her ankles. She looked up to the clear sky and went on in a whisper. “We grew up together, Ty and I, and seven years ago, he began to court me. It's a secret. My family must not know about this, do you understand?”

“Why not? They don't like for you to date him?” I asked her.

“No, but it is a little more complicated than that,” she said. “Before the fall of Saigon, his family didn't want him to marry me because they were rich and we were poor. Ty Tong is also their first born, so they thought he should get for himself a strong and fertile wife. I am sick with tuberculosis, so that is another reason for his parents to be against the relationship. Now, after the Communists took away everything they had, it was my family's turn to look down on his family.” She stopped, losing herself in her thoughts.

“Can anything be done?” I asked.

“I don't know. The fact is, his father held a very high rank in the Republican military. Everyone thinks they have bad résumés, like you people. My dad doesn't want me to get involved with a guilty party like him. It is bad enough that the whole town knows we are related to your family. So, it is understandable that I am now forbidden to see him,” she said, rubbing her face against the silky fabric of her pants.

“What is wrong with my family?” I asked her.

“Nothing,” Moonlight replied immediately, then added, “except that you remind everyone of the past. The odd appearances of you and your brother, and the way your mother has made her money through her association with the foreigners. Everyone in your family is a capitalist.”

“Your father, too, has fought in the Republican Army,” I argued.

“True, but the government knows that he was just a low-rank enlistee, working in an office. He never killed anyone in battle. It's not the same. Compared to most people in this town, we belong to what is called the lowest working class in the south.”

She looked at me through her eyelashes. “Listen, I don't make up these rules, so don't waste your time arguing with me. Besides, why should we fight? If the situation were reversed, you would treat us the same way. That's life, Kien. Let's be friends, because I want you to help me.”

“Help you? How?”

“You know Duy Tong. If you hang out with him, you can meet his brother easily. You can give Ty my messages, yes? If I could ask any of my brothers or sisters to help me, I wouldn't trouble myself to ask you. But I know they would refuse.”

“What message?” I asked with a pang of nervousness.

“Right at this moment, I am not sure. Maybe some notes, or some presents, that sort of things. I don't know yet, but when I do, will you deliver them for me?”

She looked at me with hope in her eyes. There was also something else I detected on her face—a sense of helplessness. I found myself promising her what she needed to hear.

“Good.” She reached out to hug me, and her long black hair fell over my face. “Thank you. You are my sweet little blue bird. I will do my best to keep my nasty brothers away from you and Jimmy.”

I watched her disappear behind the heavy doors before I returned to my house. On the floor, next to a lantern was a small portion of food my grandmother had left for me. My mother had locked herself in her room; however, she was not asleep. I could hear her sniffing from behind the shut door as though she had a bad cold. Jimmy lay on his bed staring at me. I climbed under my covers, ignoring the dinner on the floor. Before long, I was asleep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T
hat summer of 1975 brought more rain than the land could absorb. Swampy water accumulated all over the city, creating fertile breeding conditions for insects that spread diseases at a rapid rate. Malaria, dysentery, and tuberculosis were rife. In an attempt to contain the problem, the Communist government assembled a health-care system in which everybody was trained to take care of himself or herself. Three times a week, a group of nurses would set up a table outside the community center to dispense a dose of quinine for everyone as a safeguard against malaria. Fortunately, my village had yet to be touched by any of the plagues.

August strolled by sluggishly as the town adjusted to its reconstruction. One day my aunt's husband came rushing into our house. For his past errors, he had spent a week at a concentration camp. Luckily, the government exempted my grandfather from the same hardship because of his disability. The day my uncle was released, he came to warn my mother of the news he had learned in the camp.

All over the city, the Communists had adopted a new strategy to break down capitalism, starting with the rich communities up in Chinatown and spreading to the outlying villages. It was a simple plan. Each day, the community leaders would pick out a target area at random. They ransacked every house in that sector, paying special attention to the once rich and famous. The object was mainly to find hidden treasure or evidence that linked the people to their sinful past. As the government agents probed through the owner's belongings, members of the household were pushed into a corner. Anything with monetary value would either be confiscated or destroyed immediately. If they found proof of the owner's involvement with an unacceptable past, depending on the degree of guilt, the person would either be taken away to a death camp or held for trial. Even the children did not escape the military's search, since many cunning parents had learned to hide their treasure in or on their offspring.

With my cousins' aid, my mother went through her belongings and separated the memorabilia that was related to her past life, particularly items linked to my father or Jimmy's father. She put them all in a shoebox, together with half of her jewelry. The other half of the jewelry still remained hidden inside my trousers. As night fell, my mother went out alone to the front lawn and buried the box.

Next door, Duy's family was not as fortunate. The Communists ripped his home apart. They left with his father handcuffed in the back of a military truck. Duy's mother ran after her husband, wailing like a wounded animal as the vehicle drove off along the dusty road spitting a dark fume of smoke at her face.

My cousin Moonlight came up behind me as I was standing next to my grandmother on the front lawn, watching the chaos next door.

“Listen, Kien,” she whispered in my ear, pointing at Ty Tong. “Please, will you give him this note for me?” She stuffed a small piece of paper into my hand.

“Now? During all this?” I asked, unsure whether I had understood her correctly.

“Yes, now,” she repeated. Before her parents could notice anything, Moonlight straightened up and stepped away from me.

I walked next door, searching for Ty among his family. He stood tall next to his mother, with his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from fainting. Mrs. Tong cried on her son's shoulder, ignoring the bystanders' curious stares. Duy's brother appeared proud and mature, considering the devastation of the situation. He did not notice me as I crept closer to him. Duy, on the other hand, stopped crying to look at me with surprise.

“Sorry, Duy,” I muttered to him.

Duy did not answer me. I stood among his distraught brothers, feeling out of place as they gathered themselves up to go back inside their house. When Ty went past me, I nudged Moonlight's note into his hand. Before he had a chance to walk away from me, I said in his ear, “This is from Moonlight.”

He thanked me and I ran back home. In the front yard, Moonlight smiled and winked at me.

After waiting for the Communists a few weeks, my mother realized that since the loss of her mansion, the new government no longer considered us a serious threat. Relieved, she went to retrieve her hidden possessions from the ground. To her dismay, the entire box had disappeared. After five hours of turning the lawn upside down, she concluded that the box must have drifted to sea due to the water current below the ground. Such occurrences were common when people buried things too deep in the soil.