Beauty Rising

by Mark W. Sasse

  “Would you like anything else besides a shave, sir?”

  He opened his eyes and looked directly at me. He paused for a moment, and I felt a nervous twitch run through my stomach.

  “No, just a shave.”

  He sat up and cocked his neck from side to side for a moment. I handed him his suit jacket which he promptly put on as he stood up. I had a very strange feeling about him. He carried himself well beyond the ordinary men who often came in here expecting something and exhibiting a condescending attitude. He had dignity – and it made me nervous. He reached for his wallet and handed me ten fifty thousand dong notes which was the equivalent of about twenty five dollars.

  “Oh, no sir. That is too much.”

  “It’s hard to lose one’s family. I’m sure a little extra money can be useful for you.”

  “No, no, I can’t.”

  “Buy yourself a new outfit to go with that pretty face of yours.”

  The money clung to my hand, but I made no eager grab for it. I smiled softly and nodded timidly to show my appreciation. Then the man left. I started cleaning up the work station when Hoa burst in the room with wide eyes and a huge grin.

  “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “I gave him a shave.”

  “That’s it? Just a shave?”

  “Yes. What’s the matter?”

  The look on Hoa’s face spoke of an unknown fact lingering on the horizon. I wondered if I would like what this revelation would reveal. I clearly missed something.

  “That was Mr. Duc.”

  “So. I don’t know a Mr. Duc.”

  “Mr. Duc. The head of Thai Nguyen’s People’s Council. He’s the top official around here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. So it was just a shave?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And he gave me 500,000 just for a shave.”

  “What? He gave you 500,000 for a shave. What else did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. Just a shave.”

  We bantered back and forth for a while about Mr. Duc. Hoa was so caught up in the whole incident, but I honestly didn’t care. I’d been around too many politicians in my day to become too impressed with anyone – though I had to admit that he treated me quite kindly.

  Co Thu didn’t mention anything to me about giving Mr. Duc a shave. She just told me to get back to work when I came out front.

  The day after I met Mr. Duc, Co Thu asked to meet me in the back after we closed the shop. I was surprised to see Hoa there too.

  “My Phuong, sit down. I’ve noticed that many of my customers really admire your work.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Or maybe they really admire you. For example, Mr. Long, the banker, used to only come in here occasionally for a cut, but I think he’s here twice a week for you to give him a shave and wash. That’s a good thing. It’s good to be liked by people. It’s good to build relationships. You never know when they can be useful.”

  Co Thu was about forty-five years old. She was kind, but had an underhanded air about her. Her aging face didn’t deter her from dressing in short skirts and tending to flaunt her womanhood in all the ways that attracted a gentleman’s eye.

  “I have some clients who are in the need of some delicate attention. There are occasional parties where they like to have some…”

  She hesitated.

  “…some hostesses to make the evening more enjoyable. Hoa sometimes goes to these sort of parties, and she thought that perhaps you would like to try it sometime.”

  Any girl who had spent time in those dark places knew what they were talking about. Most likely some sort of VIP get-together where secrets need to remain such. I looked at Hoa who was nearly expressionless.

  “Now, My Phuong, Hoa told me that you spent two years in Karaoke clubs and rundown hotel rooms.”

  I looked at Hoa quickly rather surprised that she would share my secrets.

  “I would never ask you to do something like that, but there are opportunities to be had – rather lucrative opportunities if one is not afraid. You are a very attractive young woman. You are independent. You are far from home. I think we understand each other.”

  I understood very well. What I wasn’t sure of was if I actually had a choice in the matter. Co Thu had always treated me fairly, and I trusted Hoa for the most part, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was not a request. Would I be out of a job if I said no?

  “So, would you like to give it a try?”

  “Okay,” I nodded.

  Hoa smiled at me and took me by the hand.

  “Good. There is a get-together Saturday evening. I’ll have Hoa fill you in on some things. And why don’t you take Saturday off from the salon. Meet me here around nine in the evening.”

  I nodded at her and left the room hand-in-hand with Hoa. As we left, she told me everything.

  My Former English Teacher

  Before I got the job at Co Thu’s salon, I had been working those seedy karaoke bars delivering drinks and satisfying selfish desires for nearly two years. I came to Thai Nguyen as a desperate soul. It was by chance, actually. I had travelled north on the train to Hanoi and had spent two weeks looking for some kind of work. I started pickpocketing by hanging out at the bus station. One day as I swiped a foreigner’s wallet, I tripped and fell, and he had me pinned on the ground. I kneed him in the stomach as hard as I could. As he stood up to quench the pain, I rolled over and took off. I ran around the corner and right onto a bus that was just pulling out of the station. I jumped through three people who stood at the door and ducked down to hide. The bus took off, and I was gone. It travelled to Thai Nguyen, and I stayed there ever since. The small town feel suited me better. I was the exotic “flower” from the south and many guys were eager to have me. The men repulsed me, but I concentrated on nothing but the money since I had few other choices. I also found Thai Nguyen to be an exceptional place for petty theft. People were quick to trust and slow to catch on that I was out to get them.

  But I never contented myself to lay on my back every night for strange men. I enrolled in a non-matriculating English night course at Thai Nguyen University. I had learned some English when I lived in the south, and I discovered I had a talent for it. My night job gave me plenty of money to pay the tuition, so I started a course under an American volunteer teacher who lived and worked at the university.

  Sweet Miss Jessica lit up every room she entered. I adored her from the moment I met her. Her infectious smile and warm laugh welcomed me like no one had ever welcomed me before. She always had time to answer questions, and she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. I also had some of the best English abilities in the class, so we bonded together quite quickly and I spent many of my afternoons at Jessica’s guest house laughing, learning, listening to music and just hanging out. Her place became my oasis – a place where I could forget what I did each night which remained a complete secret. I studied for two years under Miss Jessica and earned an advanced English certificate which I hoped would get me a better job. That was about the time that I was introduced to Co Thu and began to cut hair. I didn’t have as much time to visit with Jessica during that third year in Thai Nguyen, but she would always be my number one friend for whom I would do anything.

  When I got to my room the evening after giving a shave to Mr. Duc, Miss Jessica came to see me and asked if I would come with her in the morning and translate at the thirtieth anniversary ceremony of Thai Nguyen University. Since Co Thu had given me the day off, I immediately told her that I would, so on Saturday morning I met Jessica at her guest house and escorted her to the ceremony.

  Several hundred chairs were lined up outside in the courtyard in front of the administration building. The school’s brass band mercilessly played only two off-key anthems as people found their seats and waited patiently for the dignitaries to arrive. Jessica and I sat about three rows back with many of the other esteemed teachers.

  “W
hat are they waiting for?” Jessica asked when the clock struck 8:30.

  “Definitely a dignitary. Dignitaries always show up late. They must show up late, that way everyone can lavish their attention on them. If they came on time, it would be like making no entrance at all.”

  “That’s really different from America. We start on time, and if the guests don’t show up, well that’s their fault.”

  “Vietnam is a patient country. We lived with the Chinese for a thousand years, but when we got the chance, we kicked the bastards out.”

  Jessica laughed.

  “You’re too funny. Where did you learn that lingo?”

  “American movies,” I replied.

  “Well it feels like we have been waiting for a thousand years. Oh look, someone is coming.”

  A large black Nissan entered the main gate to the left and drove to within fifty meters of the podium. Out jumped three men in black suits. One I recognized immediately – it was Mr. Duc.

  “I know him,” I said to Jessica. “I met him yesterday in the salon. I gave him a shave. It’s Mr. Duc. Head of the Thai Nguyen’s People’s Council. My whole salon was buzzing from his visit yesterday.”

  “Really. You gave him a shave?”

  “Yes. And he gave me 500,000 as a tip.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty good.”

  Unfortunately, the band went into another rendition of the national anthem and everyone stood up and sang as the esteemed guests made their way to the platform. The ceremony consisted of an hour of pompous dignitaries spouting the party line about development, education, and building a better tomorrow for the people of Vietnam. It all rang hollow to me. I had seen and heard it all before, and it wiped my family out. I hated every one of those individuals on the platform, but I put on an excellent show for Jessica. I clapped vigorously at every introduction and stood solemnly at every appropriate time. I was such the patriot, though I continued to chat with Jessica during the speeches. Most of the time I spent watching Mr. Duc wondering why he gave me so much money. I wondered who shaved him this morning.

  When the ceremony ended at about 9:45, the esteemed dignitaries came down from the platform and started greeting those in the first few rows. The university president singled out Jessica and had her come to the front. She grabbed my hand and pulled me in tow. Mr. Duc stood directly beside Rector Lieu.

  “Mr. Duc. I want to introduce you to our foreign teacher. This is Miss Jessica Hanson. She is from New York.”

  “Miss Jessica,” said Mr. Duc in English. “Thank you for coming to Vietnam and teaching English here. English is a very important part of our development. We greatly appreciate your service.”

  “I’m honored to meet you, sir. I love teaching in Vietnam. The people are so friendly.”

  “And how do you find the food?”

  “It’s incredible. I especially love bun cha and of course pho.

  “Everyone loves pho”, he said with a smile.

  At that point, Mr. Duc looked past Jessica and right into my eyes. I smiled at him timidly, and he smiled back in a rather surprised manner.

  “Is this a friend of yours?” he asked Jessica as he looked at me.

  “Yes. This is my good friend My Phuong. She was my student for two years. She took night classes to earn an advanced English certificate. She is a very bright student.”

  “Hello sir,” I said timidly and bowed my head slightly.

  “So she is one of your star pupils?” Duc asked Jessica.

  “She’s the best I ever had.”

  “That’s good to hear. I hope you enjoy your stay in Thai Nguyen.”

  “Thank you sir,” said Jessica.

  Mr. Duc moved past Jessica and glanced once more my way. Our eyes met, and he smiled warmly at me. He intrigued me.

  “Look at that. He asked all about you,” Jessica boasted to me.

  “No.”

  “Come on. He’ll be back for another shave before you know it.”

  I did wonder if I would ever meet him again.

  “Hey, are you busy now?” Jessica asked me.

  “No. I have nothing going on until tonight.”

  “Great. Then come back with me to my guest house. I have some friends coming from Hanoi and we are going to barbeque this afternoon.”

  “All right,” I said as I noticed Mr. Duc getting into his black car and driving away.

  ____________

  When we got back to Jessica’s guest house, two Americans were waiting for us.

  “I’m sorry. I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Jessica apologized to the one male and one female who were sitting on the wicker patio furniture. They both looked to be in their early twenties.

  “No, don’t worry about it. We just got here about twenty minutes ago,” said the girl who gave Jessica a hug.

  “Hey, this is Vietnam. We’re used to waiting,” said the tall and quite handsome guy.

  Jessica also gave him a quick hug.

  “Sarah, Jason. I want you to meet my dear friend My Phuong.”

  We all greeted each other in a very friendly manner. One thing I admired about Americans was their friendliness. Every American I had ever met went out of their way to be kind and polite to me. They treated people casually – like you were long lost friends although you had just met each other. In typical fashion, I was laughing and jabbing away with Sarah and Jason in no time at all. I volunteered to take Sarah to the market to buy meat and vegetables while Jason worked on starting some charcoal which Jessica had piled high in an old pig trough. We were all fast friends.

  When Sarah and I got back from the market, the charred pieces of wood glowed a deep grey with brilliant orange around the edges. They put the large rack of ribs and the pieces of chicken on the grill as we chatted about what it was like for foreigners to live in Vietnam. I was always fascinated by this topic and wondered if I would ever get a chance to experience another culture.

  By the time we sat down to eat, we had a veritable feast in front of us. Ribs, chicken, cole slaw, and cans of Pringles but no beer. Jessica and her friends never drank. They said their organization forbad it, which seemed bizarre to me. I loved beer, especially with barbequed meat. Vietnamese men have a social custom called nhau when friends will go out and drink, eat and socialize. Not to be restricted by social mores, Hoa and I would nhau at least once a week. At the end of the night we would stagger onto our motorbikes with red faces and little inhibition before hitting the night spots. But now I would have to settle for a Coke as they brought out several bottles from Jessica’s room.

  “Jessica, do you have a bottle opener?” asked Jason as he put the bottles of Coke on the fold-out table.

  “Yeah. In my kitchen cabinet. Second drawer on the left.”

  “No need. I have one on my key chain,” I said and pulled it out from my purse. I had a Hanoi Beer bottle opener right on my key chain which Hoa and I used liberally – never in front of Jessica though.

  I handed Jason my keychain and he opened the bottles one by one and tossed the key chain down on the table. We chatted and laughed over the food and drink. It wasn’t as happy as it would have been if they were beer drinkers, but we had a very good time overall.

  At around 12:30, we were stuffed and Jessica and I settled down on her couch and crashed up against each other.

  “I’m so full,” I said.

  “Me too,” said Jessica. “Jason, just come and relax. We can clean that stuff up tomorrow.”

  Jason was outside piling up dishes and glasses on the table. Suddenly he entered the room with something in his hand.

  “Is this yours?” he asked me pointing at the key ring in his hand.

  “Yes.”

  “Martin Kinney. You have a driver’s license for Martin Kinney. I know Martin Kinney.”

  A painful shot of adrenaline ran through my being. That is impossible, I thought. There is no way he could know Martin Kinney.

  “I met him last week. You know Tan, right?” he asked Jessic
a.

  “Sure I remember Tan. He’s the taxi driver that took us to see the pottery village.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Tan brought this guy to my guest house just last weekend. He had lost his wallet and was all out of sorts. I felt so bad for the guy. He came here to bury his dad’s ashes who was a soldier during the war, and he lost his wallet and credit cards and everything. I gave him a place to stay for a couple nights and a little spending money so he could make it home.”

  My heart raced. Would my friends find out what kind of person I really was? After all, I had to admit to myself then and there that I was nothing more than an English speaking thief and former prostitute. My heart nearly exploded. Why was I like this? What brought me to this point of depravity? It certainly was not my upbringing. If my parents were alive, they would be so ashamed of me. At that point, I was so ashamed of myself. How could I face these fun-loving foreigners as nothing more than a thief? I didn’t deserve their friendship.

  “Where did you get this?” Jason asked the dreaded question.

  I paused. I paused for an eternity – or so it felt. I didn’t want to answer the question. Jessica sat up and had a concerned look on her face. What would I say? What could I say?

  “Well,” I started not knowing where my words would take me. “What a coincidence! Last week, I was over at the Le Hoi Chua Hang – the Chua Hang festival – and I had this stone in my shoe. So I stepped over behind the wall of the temple to see what the trouble was. And as I looked down, I saw a wallet. It seemed very strange to have a wallet there, so I opened it up and there was nothing in it except this American driver’s license belonging to Martin Kinney. Of course, I had no idea who he was, but for some reason I kept the license. It’s become my good luck charm.”

  They seemed to buy my story. I was always good at creating stories off the cuff. Jason looked down at the license again and shook his head.