The Unwanted (24 page)
“I want to meet a whore named Khuon.”
“You want to talk to her, talk to me first,” Mrs. Dang said.
The woman looked at my mother. “So, you must be the whore then. My damnable husband called out your name while on top of me. Then he beat me up to hide his shame. Fifteen years I waited for my husband while he served his country. I never expected to be treated this way. You have corrupted him, you dirty imperialist slut.”
She lunged at Mrs. Dang, pushing past her to get to my mother. Mrs. Dang fell to the ground as the woman attacked my mother's face with her sharp nails. Her daughter and I jumped behind her to pull her back, but it was too late. She grabbed a handful of my mother's long hair and yanked at it with all her might, shaking my mother's head the same way she would have smoothed out a wrinkled bedspread. At the same time, she kicked furiously at my mother's abdomen.
Mrs. Dang got up. She grasped the woman's arm, peeling her fingers from my mother's hair. Mrs. Qui Ba struggled to get free, but ran out of strength and finally collapsed. I held on to her waist, watching her gasp for air. Next to us, Kim cried quietly.
My mother leaned against Mrs. Dang. Her hair spilled over her face, and red scratches streaked her cheeks. She screamed at Mrs. Qui Ba, “I did not have anything to do with your husband.”
“Don't lie! He told me all about you. This is not over yet. I will not rest until your bloody corpse is rotting in a jail somewhere.”
“Get out of here. Go home. You want to teach somebody a lesson, start with your husband. Teach him not to stray if you can. I am not afraid of your empty threats,” my mother said coldly.
The woman straightened up. “We'll see about that,” she said, reaching out for her daughter's hand.
Kim turned to me. Her eyes widened. “Why does it have to be your mother?” she moaned.
Her mother pulled her along as she pushed through the crowd. I closed my eyes. Somewhere beyond the curious onlookers, my mother called out for me.
I
helped my mother inside. Silence fell upon us as we walked side by side through the garden. In front of their house, my aunt stood next to her husband, holding a bucket of water. Her lips puckered to suck the smoke out of her wet cigarette, making a repugnant kissing sound. Without warning, she lunged forward and emptied the bucket on top of my mother's head. Dirty water flooded her face. My mother howled in shock.
My aunt shouted, “How dare you make a scene in front of my house? Have you no shame? Now the whole town knows you are sleeping with the town leader.”
My mother turned to my aunt, who took a few steps back to hide behind her children. “Go to hell, all of you,” she spat at them.
Then she adjusted her wet clothes and walked past my aunt to get to our house, ignoring the stares of her relatives.
My aunt cursed under her breath. “A wild horse never forgets its old track. I wish someone would feed that slut to the elephants.”
As soon as Mrs. Dang and my mother withdrew into her bedroom, the house returned to its usual serenity. I prepared dinner, watching a spider scuttle along the kitchen wall. A fly was trapped in its web, struggling frantically to get free. The spider brandished its tiny feet in defiance. Its venom paralyzed the fly. My head felt as empty as the inside of the lucky Buddha's belly. I searched the food cabinet for any additional course I could make to accompany the cooked cassava. There was only a small saucer of salt and pepper in lime juice. I set everything on the floor and invited my grandfather, Jimmy, and BeTi to come in for dinner.
Then I knocked on my mother's bedroom door. Mrs. Dang opened it. Sleep clustered around her eyes like tiny flakes of dandruff. I entered, and the close confines of my mother's room encompassed me like a shut coffin. I searched my mother's face for some sense of grief. Instead, I found nothing. My mother sat on the edge of the bed, combing her hair under the light of lantern.
“Dinner's served,” I said curtly.
“Kien, is there a problem?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then please don't give me any trouble. I don't need that from you.”
“See you outside,” I said and walked out.
“Listen,” she called out after me. “Tomorrow I'll take you to the market. I want to buy you some notebooks and clothes.”
“It's midsemester. I don't need any more notebooks. Why don't you take Jimmy?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
My mother tapped her comb impatiently on her desk. “I don't want to take him,” she said. “It's very important for you to do well in school. Jimmy never was much of a student, not like you. But if you don't want to go, then don't.”
“I don't want to go.”
“Fine, suit yourself, but you will go to school. Don't ever blame me for not trying to do my best for your future.”
The sadness that I had nursed for the last few days suddenly went off in an explosion of anger. “My future?” I shouted. “What about Jimmy? Do you have plans for his future? Would it be better than mine?”
My mother turned to Mrs. Dang, raising her eyebrows in shock. “What is wrong with him?” She shifted her eyes at me. “Where are your manners? Why don't you invite Auntie Dang for dinner?”
Nhatrang, March 1981
T
he beach in late afternoon appeared darker under a thick and gray sky. With the absence of the wind, tiny waves lapped the sandy shore with a constant, sleepy stroke. The busy pier, where all the boats had docked earlier, suddenly was empty again after the fish had been unloaded and transferred to the market. A flock of seagulls circled the wet sand that was still soaked in fish blood and seawater, searching for dinner. Their loud squabbling screeched through the murky sky, like the ending of a dirge. That day, I went to work without my sister. It was Jimmy's turn to watch over her.
Without BeTi, I decided not to hurry home. Instead, I strolled along the beach, watching the sunset. Somewhere on the horizon, a small strip of island, reaching itself out as far as my eyes could see, separated the ocean and the sky into two discernible entities. Above my head, the sun was out of sight, but fragments of bright orange light still peeked through the sky as if someone had hidden red coals in the clouds. As I walked closer to the water, my bare feet touched its cool surface, and the intense weariness in my muscles slowly dissipated. I took a deep breath, lifting my arms outward. Salty air rushed into my lungs. With no one in sight, I pretended to fly like an airplane—a game I had not played in years.
“Kien, wait for me.”
From behind a clump of young coconut trees, I heard Kim's voice. Her inflection pierced my ears, as sharp as the seagulls' chortle. My cheeks felt hot. The embarrassment of being caught in the middle of a childish game made me blush from head to toe. This was our first encounter since the dispute between Mrs. Qui Ba and my mother. I was glad to see her, but equally glad that no one else was on the beach.
“Hello.” I turned to face Kim, scratching my ear.
She ran across the sand to catch up with me. “Where is your sister?”
“I work alone today. BeTi is at home with my brother.”
“I see, I was waiting —” she stopped in the middle of her sentence, looking at me.
The awkwardness returned between us. I avoided her eyes, feeling very much like an insect before a glorious but deadly Venus'sflytrap. We stood facing each other, and the ocean watched us with its inquisitive waves.
Finally, I broke the silence. “How are you?”
“I am fine, thank you.” She touched my hair with her hand. I could smell a mixture of lemongrass and talcum powder from her skin—the scent of freshness. All of the sudden, I was keenly aware of my own stench, resulting from fish waste, and I recoiled from her touch.
As if she read my mind, Kim asked, “Do you want to go for a swim with me?”
I pondered the invitation while she took off the outer layers of her clothes and stood before me in her two-piece bathing suit. The red fabric pressed against her golden skin, outlining her female anatomy as if she were nude. Or was it my imagination? I could not make the distinction. Again, I fought the urge to stare at her.
Kim ran into the sea. Her hair flew wildly in the wind. Her smooth, long legs disappeared in the water. She turned to face me. Under the silver light, the ocean, the sky, and she seemed to liquefy together, as if they were all made out of mercury. She waved, beckoning me to follow. I took off my shirt and dove in after her. Before long, I, too, felt myself slowly melting away in the extraordinary twilight.
I swam away from Kim. I didn't want her to see me scrubbing myself. She stood in one place, yet her eyes never left my face. Through the thin mist that was evaporating above the water surface, I watched the surf crash against her firm belly. Her forearms pressed together in front of her chest as if she had suddenly become aware of how tiny her bikini top was. I washed myself quickly and swam under the water toward her, only to come up for air when my nose was inches away from her thighs.
“You swim very well,” she observed.
I nodded proudly. “I grew up on this beach. I spent most of my free time here.”
“I wish I knew how to swim.”
I extended my hands out. “Want me to teach you? I am a very good teacher.”
She shook her head and took a step back.
“Trust me, it is easy to learn,” I insisted. Her fear ignited an unexpected urge in me to watch her cry. The thought of Mr. Qui Ba, her father, and how his dirty, uneducated, Communist hands had fondled my mother enraged me. I reached for her hands, and when I found her cold fingers, I grabbed them tightly.
“Not today, please.” She pulled away from me.
“Yes, now. You better run, Kim. Because I am going to catch you, and I'll drag you out to the deep part of the water.” A bantering tone concealed my seriousness.
Taking my threat as a joke, she ran back to the sand, screaming and laughing. I leaped after her. My arms, like the hungry waves, encircled her thin waist, lifting her off the ground. My cheek pressed against the side of her breast. I smelled her moist, babylike skin. Yet my thought was still about her father, and how much I wanted to hurt him. Kim kicked her feet in the air, begging me to stop.
“Ah-hah, the half-breed has a Commie girlfriend.”
On the boardwalk, a group of boys stood in a half circle, waving and yelling profanities at us. These were my co-workers, who had just unloaded their last baskets of fish and were on their way home. Their heckling stopped me instantly. I let go of my fingers and Kim slid off my chest.
“The half-breed fucks a Commie whore. Her nasty hole has teeth, and that was how the half-breed got sore —” The wind carried their mocking through the empty atmosphere. Each word rubbed more salt in my already gaping wound.
“Let's go, Kien. Don't pay any attention to them.” Kim pulled my hand and gathered her clothes on the sand. I wanted to push her away, but I had no strength.
In the sallow afternoon, I watched her get dressed. When she was done, she handed me my shirt, which I hooked in the pocket of my khaki shorts.
“Does it hurt you, their teasing?” she asked me.
My answer came so fast that it felt like a defense mechanism. “No, I am used to it.”
“Let me ask you then, does it bother you that I am from the north?” Her eyes stared directly at me.
Instead of answering Kim, I attacked her with a series of questions. “I don't know, does it bother you that I am below the poverty level? Or that I am a half-breed? And let's not forget that your father is wooing my mother?”
“No.” She shook her head. “None of that bothers me. I like you. And I think you are the sweetest boy on this beach. Not to mention the cutest.”
“Besides those jerks,” I joked, feeling a little better, “I am the only boy on this beach.”
Kim laughed. She held my hand. “Let's walk home together.”
“People might see us.”
“So? I thought you don't care about that.”
“I don't. But I can't afford to make your father mad.”
Kim nudged against me. Her hair tickled my neck. “Okay, I'll leave as soon as we reach the highway, but I want to see you tonight.”
“How? Where?”
“You know where I live. You can meet me at the back gate behind the kitchen around eight.”
“I will be there,” I said. “Tonight, tomorrow night, and any other night that you might want to see me. All I ask from you is please keep what we have a secret. I don't want my mother or your father to find out.”
Before we separated, Kim nodded in agreement.
DURING THE MONTH
after my grandmother's funeral, I watched my mother and Mrs. Dang closely, waiting for them to make a decision about the escape plan. One night, I lay awake in bed listening to Jimmy's and BeTi's quiet snores and losing myself in thought. The streetlight shimmered through my bedroom window. A full moon hung across the heavens like a pregnant belly. The wind carried a heavy jasmine scent. Through the thin fabric of my mosquito net, the shadows of coconut trees and star-fruit branches made dark silhouettes.
My mother tiptoed into my bedroom and walked straight to my brother's side. I watched her with the eyes of a hungry leopard. She tapped on Jimmy's shoulder.
“Get up, Jimmy,” she whispered as she shook him.
Jimmy hoisted himself up on his elbows and a look of confusion formed on his face.
“Get up,” she murmured. “Get yourself ready, Jimmy. And keep quiet.”
“Where are we going, Mother?” His voice was slurred with drowsiness.
“Come with me, I'll explain outside.”
Jimmy hopped out of bed to follow my mother's lead. When they walked past my bed, I sat up and glared at both of them. My mouth could form just one word. “Why?” I cried.
“Go back to bed, Kien. It's one in the morning,” she said to me.
“Why him?” I jumped out of bed, blocking their path and sobbing feverishly. “I know what you are plotting. I overheard your conversation with Auntie Dang last month after Grandma's funeral. You are not leaving unless you give me an explanation: Why him?”
My mother placed her hand on my shoulder. “I need you here with me. You are the man of this family. You have responsibilities to take care of us. Besides, Jimmy is much younger. If he got into trouble, the police wouldn't keep him in jail. You would fare much worse, and I just can't take that chance. Please let him go. He needs to be on the boat in an hour.”