When Saigon Surrendered

by James Aura

  “It is going to be hot over there tonight. Last time I went to a tent revival with the Chastains, that bunch of redheads, it was nice and cool. They had a big bonfire.”

  “We’ve got a couple of your Grandmother’s hand fans from church. Let's bring those along. “

  He glanced down again at the letters on the porch floor, opened his pouch and took a fresh chew. Soo Jin came and sat on the porch rail. We watched the big birds spiral down below the tree line, out of sight. One of the cats came up to her, looking to be petted.

  I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

  “Soo Jin, if you and Uncle Wallace got married, why do you think ya’ll are living in sin?”

  She jumped up off the porch rail and stabbed her finger at Uncle Wallace. The cat ran away. “He is lying! We are not married. That piece of paper is just a cover so people will not ask questions. Wallace, you tell him the truth!”

  He got a pained expression. “Soo Jin, honey rumors go around quickly here. I just thought it was the best thing to do.”

  She looked down at the airmail letters.

  “Maybe he has figured it out already, Wallace.” She went inside and slammed the door.

  I closed my eyes and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

  Uncle Wallace appeared nonplussed. “Russell, I reckon we ought to take the Sheriff a check sometime tomorrow and get that over with.”

  We said nothing more until it was time to leave for the tent revival. We took the Bel Air. Uncle Wallace handed me the keys. He sat on the passenger side and Soo Jin sat in back. I had on a white shirt and slacks. Uncle Wallace looked like he was wearing the same outfit he had worn to Grandma’s funeral, with the black bow tie. Soo Jin was wearing a white lacey dress that she had picked up at a rummage sale. She looked real nice. She had an expectant look, maybe hoping to experience something like a church service. She was holding one of Grandma’s old bibles. I could see why a soldier might ask a girl like this to marry him, but why would he give her to some lowlife crooks?

  We drove with the windows open because the heat was oppressive. Soo Jin finally sat on the fans to keep them from blowing out the window. Her hair, which had been so nicely combed, blew wildly in all directions. She didn’t complain. The wind was better than the heat.

  Signs tacked to utility poles directed us off the blacktop and traffic slowed to a crawl. We turned on the headlights with sunset. There must have been a hundred cars and trucks in stop and go traffic on the gravel road leading to the revival. Finally we saw it; big and white, almost like a circus tent, rising up from a farm field in the middle of nowhere. There were men in white shirts and overalls directing traffic, waving cars in all directions.

  Uncle Wallace told me to stop. He jumped out and looked around a minute.

  “Russell, it’s going to be a zoo getting out of here when this thing is over. Let’s park over towards the edge of the field so we can make a run for it if we need to.”

  I thought his wording was ominous. We ignored the man waving wildly at us to go right and turned left instead, parking a ways from the other vehicles.

  We got out and Soo Jin handed me the water jug. I was impressed that she thought to bring ice water. The kind of thing Grandma would have done. The tent sat on top of a hill, the highest spot for a mile in all directions. Maybe there would be a breeze.

  I heard organ music rising through the tent flaps and realized they had electricity inside. Someone had tapped into a transmission line behind the tent. Probably why they had set up here, I thought. This was going to be a fancy tent revival. The one I had attended years ago just had a piano, a bonfire and kerosene lanterns hanging from hooks.

  A choir was singing ‘Give Me That Old Time Religion’. The tent was filling up fast. There were all kinds of people inside. Mostly white folks but a few black people sat toward the back. Some were dressed up in white shirts and ties, others practically in rags. There must have been a thousand folding chairs in that tent, with some wooden benches right up front.

  We found seats halfway up, on the aisle, as Uncle Wallace insisted. Large electric fans were blowing warm humid air from every corner.

  Soo Jin reached in her bag and handed each of us a small paper cup for the water.

  “Be careful with these, we only had three cups.”

  I tapped the jug and took three big swigs. That was better. Soo Jin and Uncle Wallace did the same. I wondered how many people would have to be carried out of here tonight.

  The organ music swelled and the choir switched to some hand-clapping hymn I hadn’t heard before. Soo Jin swayed to the beat. Uncle Wallace stared straight ahead at the microphone up front in the center.

  My mind turned back to the strange letters to my Dad from Clarksville. I didn’t like what they seemed to imply. Were the ‘honeys’ foreign women, some kind of human slavery? Why did the letters have nonsense phrases? I closed my eyes and hoped for some burst of clarity.

  A tall, wiry man in a blue suit lurched to the microphone, his left foot dragged behind him. His every move a painful twitch. His hand shook uncontrollably. His face was contorted, but his eyes carried the spark of intellect. He was mesmerizing. I didn’t know whether he was going to fall over or remain upright but he seemed to keep his balance.

  I leaned past Soo Jin and whispered to Uncle Wallace, “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Polio, I reckon. Maybe he didn’t get the shot in time. Or might be something like St Vitus Dance.”

  His voice boomed out across the perspiring multitude. “Brothers and Sisters in Jesus Christ! Are we ready for a revival? Say AMEN!”

  The crowd shouted back, “Amen.”

  The man moaned into the microphone, “I AM A WRETCH! I AM A HOPELESS SINNER!”

  He then stepped back and the choir launched into ‘Amazing Grace’ and the crowd joined in. He had uttered less than two dozen words and Soo Jin was crying already. But if anybody was feeling wretched right then, it was me.

  I glanced down at the pamphlet they handed out. It had the hymn lyrics printed on both sides. I tried to sing along, opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The choir wrapped it up and the man again came back to the microphone.

  “We are all hopeless sinners but if Jesus is for us, who can be against us?”

  His voice rose and fell in a way hard to describe. It was like poetry. The choir launched into ‘A Mighty Fortress is Our God.’ I knew that one from church, and sang along.

  A phrase from the hymn hit me between the eyes.

  “For still our ancient foe

  doth seek to work us woe;

  his craft and power are great,

  and armed with cruel hate,

  on earth is not his equal.”

  I thought about something Uncle Wallace had said.

  “There are some men who do not see the humanity of others. They are like wolves.”

  I thought about Soo Jin and her teeth knocked out of her head. I thought about the ‘Vietnam and Korean honeys’ and the men who shot Wonju and tried to rob Uncle Wallace.

  Evil. There was evil in the world. I didn’t know if it was Satan or not but I saw there was evil all around us.

  The man at the microphone- I had figured out by now that he was indeed the preacher- launched into a scripture passage from Matthew; the one about the last judgment and the separating of the sheep and the goats. With his deep baritone he practically sang the words.

  “For I was hungry, and ye gave me to eat;

  I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink;

  I was a stranger, and ye took me in;

  Naked, and ye clothed me;

  I was sick, and ye visited me;

  I was in prison, and ye came unto me.”

  The preacher was looking at me! I crushed the paper cup in my hand. If ‘A Mighty Fortress’ had me reeling, the sheep and the goats were the wakeup call. A woman who was beaten and a prisoner: sitting next to me. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean there were boats with thousands of starving refugees from Vietna
m desperate for help.

  I had my clarity.

  I barely remember the rest of it. The preacher called those 'wanting to be revived' to the front of the tent. When the organ and choir began “Just as I am, without one Plea, but that thy blood was shed for me,” I looked over to Uncle Wallace. He nodded and his eyes moved toward the exit. We rose from our seats and lifted Soo Jin between us.

  “He leaned to her, “Time to go, honey. We can pray some more at home, if you want.”

  Surprisingly she went along with us. She was like a limp dishrag. It was probably the heat. Two women collapsed in the row behind us. There was practically a stampede for the exits by those who apparently felt they'd been adequately revived.

  Behind us, I heard the choir shift over to ‘Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me ’

  When we got to the Bel Air, I handed the keys to Uncle Wallace.

  “I want to sit in back, let Soo Jin sit up front, with you.”

  He was right about the parking. The path out of the field was jammed with cars, but we were only a few feet from the gravel road. We were on our way, quickly. Windows open, the breeze was cooler now. We dabbed cold water from the jug on our faces.

  We went a mile or two and Soo Jin said, “Well that was very different from our Presbyterian services back home in Korea.”

  We took a few more sips from the water jug and rode the rest of the way home in silence. That night I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the living room in front of the fan and started on my plan. It would start with a come-to-Jesus with Uncle Wallace in the morning.

  I had decided I didn’t need to know all the details about what Daddy had been doing. It was enough that this evil sex slavery thing could be stopped and there was surely something I could do to help some Vietnam refugees. I had been waffling on this too long. A return to college was out of the picture for now, so I had time to get moving. But did I have enough help? I made a list.

  Tommy and Evelena would be with me on this, I had no doubt. I was fairly sure Opal might be both a consultant and a helper, if only I would ask. Elaine could probably help with my refugee rescue idea with her legal connections. The sheriff and Kim were out of the question for now. I didn’t feel like we could trust either of them. Some neighbors would probably be willing to take on some Vietnamese farmhands too, if they were approached the right way.

  Next morning after the chores I sat at the breakfast table with Uncle Wallace.

  “Uncle, it is time to turn over a new leaf. I’ll write you a check to take to the sheriff, but you’ve got to come clean about some things. And if you don’t, I’ll put this farm up for sale, you can haul off the cows and sheep and chickens and sell them, and move back to your trailer. I’ll take the money from the farm and move to Auburn and that’ll be the end of all this.”

  Well that seemed to set him back. He looked around for Soo Jin. She was out in the henhouse.

  “Dammit, Russell, all right. Bring your Vietnam letters out to the front porch and I’ll go get something and meet you out there.”

  I got the letters and the envelopes and went out to one of the rockers. Uncle Wallace was upstairs. I could hear him rummaging for something. A flock of black crows hopped around on the alfalfa field. The red-tailed hawk soared high overhead. It was going to be another hot one.

  “Summertime with the hot hits in Kentuckiana,” I intoned.

  Uncle Wallace came out holding a couple of envelopes. He had a pained expression.

  “Russell, I have these letters to show you, but you need to let me see the ones you found in the trash.”

  I handed him the correspondence, and he quickly read through the brief letters, and examined the addresses on the envelopes.

  “Russell, I always thought a lot of your Daddy. He and I were good friends. He went through a lot when your Momma died, we both did. My sister was too young to lose to cancer, that way.”

  He handed me three envelopes with letters inside.

  “When I got back from Korea it took me awhile to get my head straight. I took a bullet in the gut in a firefight over there, and the North Koreans shot down our Sikorsky while me and a bunch of other boys were being hauled off the battlefield. I woke up in fire. I was on fire. I thought I was dead and had gone to hell. Then I woke up later in a MASH unit, still alive.”

  He started to stutter. I clutched the letters and waited for him to pull a fresh chew out of his pouch. I had always been taught to respect my elders, and he was getting elderly. Uncle Wallace must have been at least 45 years old. I sat and waited. Finally, he rambled on.

  “Russell, for the next few years, I felt like maybe I really was dead and all of this was some kind of dream. Then you came along, and a few years later your Momma died and I started drinkin’. I think your Daddy saw the army as some kind of escape. He helped me buy that trailer, and left you with your Grandma. We never saw much of him after that. I never had much luck with women. I guess I had a reputation around here as a loser. Read those letters, Russell. Tell me what you make of them.”

  I had tears stinging my eyes by then. I opened the first one. It was another airmail letter to the Army Post Office box, forwarded to our address.

  “SGT Bob,

  All is well stateside. Business is good. Concerned no response from you. Advise on address or deployment change. Still holding your funds. Say hello to the Muleskinners.

  Best,

  Jerry”

  Another puzzling letter with more nonsense.

  “Uncle Wallace, you reckon that is some kind of code in those letters? They make no sense.”

  He was reading the other letters I had handed to him.

  “Well they seem to make a little more sense now, Russell. Read those other ones.”

  The second letter was addressed Daddy at our farm.

  “SGT Bob,

  Glad to hear you are back stateside. Assume no more honeys from your direction until redeployment. Confirming we should mail your check?”

  Best,

  Jerry”

  This one was a little different. The return address was a street number in Clarksville. There were no nonsense phrases. The last letter was also to the farm but just had a telephone number to call.

  “Russell, I didn’t want to tell you about this until I could get a better idea of what was going on. What do you think?”

  “Daddy must have been in some kind of a deal where they were getting young women hooked up with soldiers and then putting them to work in Clarksville. Like they did with Soo Jin.”

  The truth hurt but at least I was coming to a better understanding of what I had suspected. Uncle Wallace put all the letters and envelopes in a stack, slipped a rubber band around them.

  “Until then, I did not realize your Daddy was involved with Vietnamese girls too. I thought this had been strictly a Korea thing. Now here’s the rest of it, Russell. I called them up, told them I was your Daddy, to see what they’d say. The guy who answered wasn’t Jerry. He didn’t seem to know your Dad personally, but he knew who he was. I told him to send me the check at this address, but he wanted to touch base with someone else about that. That’s when the Jerry guy sent that letter directly here to the farm.”

  So Uncle Wallace had gotten creative when he thought there might be money involved.

  “A few days later your Grandma told me someone had called, looking for Daddy. She seemed upset. She said she did not tell the man your Dad had passed away because she didn’t like the fellow’s voice. She was suspicious it might be some kind of a scam. But she wrote down the phone number, for me to look at.”

  Grandma always did have a kind of sixth sense about stuff. I thought I saw her coming around the chicken house with her egg basket. But when I looked again, it was Soo Jin, headed for the kitchen.

  “Russell, let’s take a walk out back. Soo Jin does not know these things about your Daddy.”

  He handed me all of the letters and I quickly went inside and put them in my bedroom cedar chest. We
walked out towards the sheep pasture. About now, I was feeling horrible, but at least no longer ignorant. He continued with his story.

  “When your Grandma left for the store, I called that phone number she had given me and it was this guy called Jerry. He did sound like a bad ass. Just something about his voice and the way he spoke. He’s not from around here. Sounded like a Brit, or something.”

  “I told him your Daddy was out of town, wasn’t able to call but they could go ahead and mail the check, that I was his brother-in-law and he had asked me to take care of business.”

  “This Jerry guy said they were short of cash right now, that they had some new ‘investments’ but he had a proposition. They had a Korean gal who was not cooperating; he said she was a damned wildcat. Maybe we’d like to take her, instead of waiting for the cash.”

  “Russell, he said we could either do that, or they’d just have to put a bullet in her brain and take her out to the landfill with the others. The guy sounded like a monster. He talked about shooting a woman like she was an animal. I made a quick decision. The woman, of course, was Soo Jin.”