The Unwanted (30 page)

She grabbed another sack and pulled out a bottle of cognac. Leaving the rest of her belongings on the floor, my mother walked toward the warden. She greeted him with a smile. “Please sir, I would like to ask you a small favor. This bottle can't measure up to my appreciation, especially for what you are about to do, but do accept the gift. I would like to meet that man over there. I know his relatives, and they had a message for him.”

The warden smiled, showing teeth blackened from cigarette smoke. His thick eyebrows rose behind his dark sunglasses. “What message?” he asked.

My mother's fingers picked at the seal on the bottle. “Nothing much, really. Just to see how he's doing, that's all. His family would like to know that.”

He reached for the cognac. “Five minutes are all you get. Start right now.”

She grasped my hand and pulled me out of the room.

“Hey,” the officer spoke up.

“Yes, sir.”

“You are a very classy lady —”

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

The warden nodded. “I mean it. If I didn't see you together with your half-breed son, I would never have guessed that you were once a hooker for the dirty foreigners. Very classy, indeed.”

My mother swallowed and ran outside past the courtyard. Lam stood frozen, his eyes fixed on us. His hands on the barbed wire were white at the knuckles. We stopped about five feet in front of him.

My mother broke the silence. “Hello, Lam. How are you?”

“Fuck you, evil whore.”

My mother burst out laughing. Her hand tightened around mine. “Is that all you are going to say? Five, six years away from me, don't you have any questions? Speak up, because if you don't, we'll be leaving.”

He sucked in a deep breath, glaring at my mother. “Why did you put me in here?”

“Oh, there were so many reasons: you were a bad father, you dirtied my family name, you spent my money —”

“What was it really, Khuon?” Lam demanded, grabbing his crotch. “Was it because I got a penis and you didn't?”

My mother leaned over and breathed in his face. “Bastard, I sent you away because you hurt my son. I am a mother. I had no choice but to seek vengeance.”

“What—?” He pulled away from her, looking at me. “How did you know? Did he tell you?”

“Yes,” she nodded, stroking my head with her hand. Sadness hung over her face as she said, “In a way, my son did tell me. Mostly from the way he behaved. I saw how his personality changed from being so happy to extreme terror at the sight of you. It was the same behavior I had noticed in Loan. You have a gift, Lam. When it comes to destroying people I love most, you truly are a master at work.”

“Nonsense,” he murmured.

“Of course there were more clues,” my mother continued. “I have always been a reasonable woman. I couldn't get revenge if I didn't have concrete facts. There came nights when he just fell apart with nightmares.” Tears mixed with her mascara and trickled down her cheeks. “I sat on the edge of his bed and I watched him suffer while I was pregnant with your daughter. Your name was at the tip of his tongue time and again. Then I just came right out and asked him. Still in his sleep, he told me the perverted thing that you did. What am I supposed to do? I couldn't wait for the gods to take revenge for us. And I had to end his nightmares somehow.”

She turned away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Good-bye, Lam. Rot in Hell.”

“Wait,” he called after her.

She paused.

“How did you do it?” he asked. “How did you get them to arrest me?”

My mother sighed and turned to face him. “I informed Mr. Tran about you and Loan, how you raped her, and the abortion. I was so good, by the time I finished the story, he wanted you dead. Personally, I believe death would be too easy a way out for you. Prison, to me, was a much better choice, so I found myself a second trump card to support my scheme. Mr. Qui Ba came to my rescue. With my brain and two community leaders against you, you never stood a chance.”

“You whore,” he screamed. Droplets of saliva spattered in the air as he spoke. “You killed my child. I only did what I had to do to get even. You have no right to put me here.”

“You keep talking about Loan's child, yet you have never made any effort to care for your daughter, BeTi. Do you really expect me to believe you have any concern for anyone besides yourself?”

Lam made no reply.

My mother went on, “I am taking my son home, Lam. In a few hours, we will breathe the air of freedom again. Whatever wounds you inflicted on us, they will heal with time. But you, you will remain here until the day you die, like a stray dog. And I promise you no one will ever remember that you exist.”

My mother turned to me. Her eyes were the color of the chestnut, and for the first time, they concealed no trace of mystery. “You now know the story,” she said. “You understand why I became friends with Mr. Qui Ba, don't you? It is called revenge. And revenge has a price. I turned to Mr. Qui Ba every time I needed a favor. He thought he was using me, but actually I was using him. I did it so that I could put Lam behind bars, and, most recently, in exchange for your freedom. You can judge me if you want for what I did, but please understand why I did it. It wasn't right, and I would be the first one to admit it. But for your safety, and for all of my children's safety, I would not hesitate to do it again if I had to. Someday, you have to help me explain that to your sister.”

“Did Mr. Qui Ba arrest him, Mother?” I asked.

“Yes, son.”

“How did you get him to do it?”

She stroked my head, and said. “The secret is in the smile, son.”

Taking my hand, my mother led me toward the visitors' hall to gather her belongings. Together we marched outside the gate, where the bus was waiting under the glaring sun. Two hours later, we departed from camp PK 34.

CHAPTER FORTY

W
e spent the night at Cam Ranh Bay. The next morning, the bus arrived in Nhatrang in the middle of a warm and sporadic shower. These were the days in May when the sun and sky hid above the mud-colored clouds, and a wild wind swept the heavy precipitation across town. Rain crashed into my face as my mother and I walked through our compound's front gate. Large beads of water splashed on the wet surface of the garden, threatening to flood the already drenched ground. Under the guava trees, my aunt's ducks stood motionless and hid their bills under their wings, observing the weather through their half-shut eyes. Beneath the shutters of my bedroom window, a trail of busy termites found a dry and comfortable refuge.

We entered our house through the back door. Dropping her sacks in the kitchen, my mother pulled a reed mat from her room and laid it in front of my dirty feet. From the doorway, my room seemed larger than usual. The armoire, the chest of drawers, and our beds had disappeared.

As if to answer my thought, my mother said, “I had to raise money to bribe the officials for your release, so I sold everything.”

The rest of my family, seated in my grandfather's bedroom, didn't hear us come in because of the loud rain. The house was gloomy, with little light penetrating the windows. My grandfather, stretched on his mattress, seemed lost in his Buddha's scriptures. A pipe hung forgotten at a corner of his mouth.

His bed frame and my uncle's altar were also gone, leaving a faded imprint on the gray cement. The room was bare, except for some of my grandmother's belongings. On her pillow lay the copper mortar and pestle she used to grind betel nuts with, and next to it was a basket of her garments.

With his back turned to us, my brother was giving my grandfather a foot massage. A few paces away, my sister played with Lou, who was curled up beside her pillow. While one of her tiny hands kept him still by his collar, the other caressed the dog's fur and stroked the folds of his chin.

Lou was the first to detect our presence. He sprang up from my sister's hold and barked, waving his tail. Jimmy ran toward us, pale from excitement. In the glimmering dimness, his face looked as if it were carved from marble. I embraced him, feeling his body quiver in my arms.

My grandfather was first stunned, then overcome with happiness. He got up from his bed, reached out his hands, and beckoned for me to come over. “Thank heaven you are saved,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He shook his head in disbelief. “Come to Grandpa, my poor boy.”

AS WE SAT DOWN
for lunch, my aunt entered the kitchen from the back steps. In just a few months, she had aged ten years. Her face, thin and exhausted, appeared starker than usual. Even her hair, once long and thick, was now as lifeless and dull as a mane of horsehair. She narrowed her eyes, which were swollen from crying, and awkwardly said to me, “I am glad that you made it home.” She shifted her eyes to her feet. “Do me a favor, please. My daughter wants to see you.”

I looked up to my mother, who remained quiet and stared at her bowl of rice. My grandfather patted my shoulder and said, “Go ahead, Kien. Moonlight has been waiting for you. Go and say good-bye to your cousin. Your mother and I will join you in about fifteen minutes.”

My aunt covered her nose with a handkerchief and blew noisily. Obeying my grandfather's wish, I got up from the floor and followed her.

The black divan in their den, where Moonlight had spent most of her sick days, had been moved into her room at her request. Fresh lotus blossom and a glass of condensed milk sat on a counter nearby. The light from outside created a ghostly collage of black and white shadows on her heavily made-up face, making her look like a Japanese doll.

The moment she saw me, Moonlight coughed violently. Her body doubled over in my uncle's arms as she gasped for air, clutching her hands across her chest. Her family, scattered outside her room, watched silently. The attack grew increasingly severe, until she threw up blood onto the divan. Her blouse was also soaked in the thick red liquid, some of which spilled over to the floor below. At last, the cough subsided, and she waved at me.

I approached her bed. My aunt was standing beside me. I picked up Moonlight's hand and held it in mine, feeling her fingers as cold as ice. Her father instinctively pulled her away from me.

Moonlight lifted her head. Her lids hung heavily over her dark irises. “You made it home,” she whispered to me. “At last I got to see you. I am running out of time, Kien.”

I blinked away a tear.

“Daddy, may I have a private moment with him?” she asked.

My uncle's bushy eyebrows furrowed tightly over the bridge of his nose.

Moonlight repeated, “Please, Daddy. It will only take a few minutes.”

He stood up and said to me, “Sit down. And hold her. If anything happens, just call us. We will be right outside.”

I sat on the edge of her bed and she leaned back, pressing her shoulder against my chest. Her body was so bony it seemed as fragile as glass. Her lips were lavender as she tried to smile, but instead, a corner of her mouth just shook slightly. A trace of blood slowly oxidized with the air and became a dark brown mark on her pale skin.

Once we were alone, Moonlight whispered to me, “The postman came this morning, but there's still no letter from Ty Tong.”

“I am so sorry,” I said.

“Hey, I've got something for you,” she said.

I waved my hand. “No, Moonlight. You don't have to give me anything. Just get better.”

“Trust me, you'll want this,” she said. “But first, help me. I need to lie down.”

I laid her gently on her bed and stepped back to give her some room. Slowly, she reached inside her pillowcase and fumbled around. When her hand found what she was looking for, she pulled it out and held it protectively inside her palm. A sad smile returned to her face. “I would trade anything just for another day at the beach, swimming in the water and playing in the sun. Do you know the feeling? Of course you don't. Why should you? You can do any of those activities whenever you want. But don't ever take it for granted, Kien. Life is precious.”

I nodded.

She looked up at the ceiling to recover herself, and then she continued. “I remember your wish that day at the Spirited Mountain Temple. Your prayer was about your father.”

“Well,” I said bitterly, “I also prayed for Grandmother's health, but she died. And now, look at you. Miracles don't always happen to poor people, Moonlight.”

“Please don't lose your faith!” she urged. “At least not in humanity, Kien. I know you are angry, and I know the feeling of being ostracized. Look at me with this disease! People are afraid of getting close to me —” She stopped and gasped for air.

“You'll get better soon. Just slow down, Moonlight.”

She shook her head. “It isn't important anymore. I want to apologize to you about my family. I want you to forgive them.”

I looked away from her fervent face. “I don't know what you are talking about.”

“Please, forgive them. I am going to tell you an important secret. Promise me that you will apply this knowledge for your own good. Don't use it against my family. You can hate them for what they did to your family, but I don't want another war in this house.”

I held her hand. “Whatever you want, Moonlight. I promise you.”

“You must swear by my death bed —”

I cried and nodded my head. Relieved, she raised her hand and opened her fingers, revealing a small piece of paper. Every crease on its surface had turned dark brown, and the ink was faded. I took it from her hand. It appeared to be part of an envelope, scribbled in some foreign language with my mother's handwriting.

“What is it, Moonlight?” I asked her.

She said, “It's your father's address. You can write to him now if you like.”

“How did you get this?” I stuttered in shock. “All of the letters were buried and lost years ago. We dug the whole lawn upside down to search for it.”

Moonlight choked in her own fluid. Suddenly, her cheeks turned from pale to pink, then to crimson, but she soon collected herself and took in several deep breaths. My aunt stuck her head in to check, but Moonlight waved her away.

“I am so sorry, Kien,” she said. “I don't have an explanation for you. Nothing I can say will justify my family's behavior. You know why I couldn't give this to you earlier. For my sake, don't tell anyone, please.”