by Julia Legian
“I would if I could. The problem is that I can’t row and Sister Number 2 can’t swim. I don’t know how to control that stupid thing. I can’t keep it straight. I will need a thousand years of practice to be good at it. You’re an expert at rowing. I really admire the way you move back and forth with that thing. You can really make that sucker fly.”
I was massaging her ego as I needed her to take me there. I continued to beg.
“We can get there and back in no time and Mum won’t know about it. She’s too busy playing cards. I promise we won’t get into trouble and if we do I’ll take all the blame. Please, please, little sis. C’mon, Hanh, don’t be a chicken.”
Hanh gave up and agreed. Off she rowed, stepping back and forth with her small legs and arms and giving it everything she had to impress me. While Hanh rowed her heart out, I was busy day-dreaming and by the time we got there poor tiny Hanh was out of breath.
“Wow, Hanh, this place is beautiful! The sand is so white and clean. We should have come here months ago, don’t you think?”
Hanh nodded in excitement.
“See? I told you it’s not too bad out here. There are hardly any waves and the water is perfectly safe. Come on, Hanh, let’s pull our dinghy onto the dry patch of sand right over there and start looking for pipis.”
We dragged the dinghy away from the water and started combing the sand. We found heaps of big pipis.
“Hanh, I think we have more than enough. How about you row to the other side of the forest to find some fat cockles and snails for dinner?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my sister replied. “We should go home before the tide rises. It’s dangerous out here.”
“C’mon, Hanh, it’s not that far. Don’t be a fun killer. Let’s go, please.”
Hanh pulled a face. “All right, just this time. But I will not come with you ever again. You don’t stick to your plan.”
As we approached the other side of the jungle, I noticed something weird in the distance. I thought I saw a middle-aged man wrapped in a bright red robe that fell from his shoulder down to his feet. He was floating above the ground. He gently waved to me. I pretended I didn’t see him and told myself I was imagining things. I did not say a single word to Hanh because I didn’t want to scare her. I knew she would freak out. Once in a while I glanced in that direction hoping not to see him. Without fail he saw me every time and started waving to me.
“Oh, crap, Loan – did you see that?”
I played dumb. “See what?”
“The Red Man, the freakin Red Man. He’s waving to us.”
“Crap, did you see him, too?”
Hanh looked scared. “Do you think what I think?”
I nodded. We both knew then that we were looking at a ghost. He didn’t look anything like a human. He was too clean, too tall and he had some kind of golden light surrounding him. Besides no human could get to that part of the forest. You would need a dinghy or a boat and there were none of them to be seen. Hanh and I were shaking in terror.
“Stop looking at him. Just keep your head down, pretend you don’t see him and let’s get out of here. Row quickly, Hanh!”
Hanh started to row as if our lives depended on it. I helped her by using both my hands and legs, kicking the water like mad. Hanh was too scared to keep control of the dinghy and it rocked from left to right. Halfway to the entrance we noticed the water had risen much higher than it was when we entered the area. The water became rough and a storm blew up. We made it home just before the sky opened and rain began to fall in heavy sheets. We didn’t tell a single soul of our adventure as we had been forbidden to go there in the first place.
As she promised, Grandma watched over us from the end of the road, where she now lived. At one stage when we had no food to eat, she cut off her beautiful long shiny black hair and traded it for food to feed us.
Phuong took on the mothering role, making sure we were fed and clean. We cried together at night for Grandma and we prayed for her return. Mum’s due date approached. By this time my parents had no money, no friends, nothing left except for the big fishing boat.
They took us to see Grandma and asked her to forgive them. To our joy, Grandma agreed to come back. Grandma brought some money she had borrowed from one of her cousins. I couldn’t wait to tell her about the ghostly encounter.
I looked at her with a serious expression. “Grandma, I want to tell you a secret.”
“What is it, my little princess?”
“You must promise not to tell my parents.”
Grandma smiled a gentle smile. “I promise, now tell me.”
My eyes were big and round as I told her. “Hanh and I saw a Red Ghost.”
“Where?” she asked.
“Tell Grandma, Hanh.”
Hanh pointed in the direction where we had seen the Red Man. “Out in the sea.”
Grandma looked like she didn’t believe us. “It’s not possible. How can you see him from here?”
“We went out there a while ago.” I said.
Grandma frowned. “With your Dad?”
“No just me and Hanh. We took the dinghy there.”
Grandma’s expression was stern. “Oh, my goodness, you naughty, naughty girls. You were not supposed to go there on your own. It’s dangerous.”
“I know, Grandma. Mum and Dad didn’t know.”
“What did the Red Man do?”
“Nothing. He just stood there and waved to us. We were too afraid to look,” I replied.
Grandma was over the moon. “It’s wonderful that he appeared to you girls. He’s not a ghost - he’s an angel watching over you. You both could have drowned out there. The weather is unpredictable and lots of people have died even with their large fishing boats.” Grandma got down on her knees, clasped her hands together and thanked the “Red Angel” for protecting us.
Chapter 19
One day Dad sent me to his mother’s house in My Long. My mission was to bring Uncle Pheo to see Inh in Muoi Rach Tau. I hadn’t seen my favourite uncle for a long time. Ecstatic to be sent on such an important mission, I could hardly control my excitement. Uncle Pheo meant lots of gifts, food and candies.
“Loan, you’re going with Ba Di. I want you to behave yourself,” Dad said.
“Yes, Daddy, I will.”
I had never met Ba Di before. I think she was one of my parents’ friends.
The eight-hour boat trip back out of Muoi Rach Tau was a repeat of a nightmare. When we reached Ca Mau, Ba Di found a place to stay overnight; a huge open building with a hundred or so people asleep on the floor.
The people covered themselves with paper thin sheets to ward off mosquitoes. Their collective snoring kept me awake all night. We left early the following morning and should have taken the bus. However Ba Di had spent our funds on the accommodation, so we had little money left. She decided to take a motorised rickshaw, as it cost less than the bus.
On our way to Xinh’s house, the rickshaw was bowled over by a large bus. My body catapulted off the rickshaw and I landed in an untidy heap on the concrete road. My clothes were shredded and my body covered with deep cuts.
I lay bleeding in intense pain. Ba Di, the driver and the rickshaw had escaped unscathed.
“Ba Di, please, help. I’m in a lot of pain. Can you please stop the bleeding?”
Ba Di sprinkled tobacco on the wounds then put cotton balls on top to stem the bleeding. The driver carried me back onto the rickshaw. The rest of the trip passed in a haze of throbbing pain and it seemed to take forever to reach Xinh’s place.
Xinh took one look at me and rolled her eyes. I ignored her hateful attitude. I only wanted to see my Uncle Pheo, not this mean grandmother with her disapproving face.
“I’m here to see my Uncle Pheo, is he home?”
“He’s not here. He’s gone fishing. He won’t be back for another day.”
I was forced to stay with this unpleasant woman. It was awkward because we did not talk for the whole time we we
re there. But although she was cold and uncaring, she didn’t abuse me.
Uncle Pheo finally came back from his trip. I waited at the pier as he jumped off the boat. He was surprised and happy to see me. He lifted me off the ground and kissed the top of my head with delight as if I was his long lost best friend.
“Let’s go see Uncle Binh,” he said, eyeing my tattered outfit and my cuts and bruises. “I want to buy you some decent clothes.”
Binh was one of Dad’s brothers and, although I’d heard his name, I hadn’t met him before. He had plenty of money because, according to Mum, he had married one of the wealthiest women in the province.
Uncle Pheo and I walked until we reached a huge, luxurious large brick home with lush green gardens. A large gate penned off the property and coconut trees lined each side of the land.
Uncle Binh was a different proposition altogether to Uncle Pheo. He didn’t invite us in and he gave me a dirty look.
“You idiot. Why did you bring this dirty little girl here? Aren’t you ashamed to be seen with her? Get her out of here.”
Uncle Pheo took a step back. “How can you say that, Binh? She’s our niece, for heaven’s sake. You can’t be that heartless.”
Binh shook his fist at us. “I want you both out of my place. Don’t you bring her back here again or I will beat you to death.”
Uncle Pheo took me by the hand and hurried me away. I felt a sharp pain as if someone had jabbed a sharp knife through my heart when I saw tears streaming down Uncle Pheo’s face.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Pheo. I didn’t mean to be a nuisance. I’m truly sorry that I got you into trouble with Uncle Binh.”
Uncle Pheo ran his hand over my hair and patted my head. “It’s not your fault, my love. Uncle Binh is not in a good mood, that’s all. Never mind, we’ll get the money somewhere else.”
He wiped away his tears.
I firmly squeezed Uncle Pheo’s hand.
“Don’t worry, Uncle, I don’t need new clothes, I’m happy with what I have. I don’t want you to get into trouble again.”
Uncle Pheo insisted. But we had to try several neighbours before he succeeded. I knew he didn’t want to ask his mother because she wouldn’t want him to spend a cent on me.
“Oh, Uncle Pheo, I almost forgot to give you this note from Dad. Dad said it’s a big secret and I’m not allowed to show it to anyone but you.”
“Thanks, my beautiful darling,” Uncle said. He took a quick look at the note then tore it into pieces.
Uncle Pheo took me shopping. He bought me a beautiful new set of clothes, some of my favourite cigarette chocolates and sugarcane juice. After dinner with his mother he told me to go back to my parents with Ba Di.
“I’m sorry, little darling, I can’t come with you tomorrow. You go home and tell your Dad that Uncle Pheo got his note but I don’t want to go with him.”
He kissed me on the forehead.
“Okay, Uncle, I’ll tell Dad. I love you, Uncle Pheo. You’re the best uncle in the whole wide world.”
He held me tight for an unusually long time, as if it was our last time together and said that he loved me. I didn’t know at the time that Dad had asked him to escape from Vietnam with us.
Chapter 20
It was about midnight when Dad woke us and hurried us to the family boat. Groggy and scared, we huddled in the engine room.
“Why are we hiding?” I asked Mum.
“Shhh, we’re escaping from Vietnam.”
“Where are Grandma and Aunty Cuc? I don’t want to go without them,” I cried.
“They’re coming later. Your Dad asked them to go on a separate boat and we’ll meet up later. Now, shhh!”
“No, no, I want my Grandma. Please wait for Grandma! I don’t want to leave without her!” I cried.
“Shut up or we’ll all be shot,” Mum ordered.
The seaport crawled with guards. To take the boat out to the open sea, Dad had to report to the station for permission to go. The guards inspected the boat to make sure Dad was not trying to escape or smuggle people.
Two guards came on board. They had a quick look through, while we huddled in the engine room. One of the guard’s feet pounded above our heads as he paced up and down, while we trembled nervously in the dark.
One of the guards was a close family friend who was crazily in love with Aunty Thuy. He knew of Dad’s plan so he went to the engine room and pretended to check, leaving the other guard to inspect the rest of the boat. He saw us, kissed all the girls goodbye and whispered, “Have a safe journey.” He returned to the upper deck and told the other guard everything was clear and they let Dad go.
We stayed in the noisy engine room, inhaling fumes from the motor until we reached the open sea, where Dad finally allowed us to come out. Moments later we saw flashes of light in the distance. Not long afterwards, a small group in an overloaded dinghy hailed us. They were signalling Dad as they wanted to board our boat. According to Mum, Grandma and Aunty Cuc were supposed to be with them so I watched closely as each person climbed onto our boat.
A fishing trawler passed close enough to see us. Dad, certain they would report us to the guards back at the station, began to frantically pull people on board in his haste to escape. Once everyone was on our board, he gunned the motor and headed for the open water at full speed.
I screamed my lungs out, grabbing Dad’s hand and trying to slow him down. “Where’s Grandma? Please, Dad, don’t go yet! We have to wait for Grandma and Aunty Cuc!”
Dad shoved me against the cabin. “Loan, get your bloody hands off me. Do you want to get us all killed?”
“But Daddy, what about Grandma?” I cried.
Dad ignored my desperate pleas and, feeling helpless, I sat down next to him and sobbed.
“Stop bloody crying, she’s not coming,” he finally said in frustration. “I asked her to stay behind to help us if we got caught.”
I was burning with anger. I didn’t want to go anywhere in this world without my Grandma. Why didn’t anyone ask me who I would rather be with? Without hesitation, I would have chosen to be with Grandma.
Minutes later a patrol boat bore down on us and we heard three loud shots ring out across our bow. We all dived for cover, while Dad manoeuvred the boat, weaving left and right and dodging the bullets. The boat shuddered and groaned with every lunge in a different direction. It threatened to capsize several times.
The motor in our boat proved too powerful for the smaller patrol boat. As I watched its bright lights dim and fall back further and further until it disappeared from my sight, I understood why Grandma was so insistent that her instructions from above were to build a bigger boat with a powerful engine.
Hours later I fell asleep, exhausted from crying over losing my beloved Grandma. When I woke up the next morning, I confronted my Mum with great anger.
“Who are these stupid strangers on our boat? Why did you take them and not my Grandma?” I shouted.
“The old North Vietnamese woman sitting over there, she is your Dad’s Godmother and that young couple over there are her son and his wife. The young boy and that beautiful young woman are her children, too. The three men standing next to your Dad are his good friends. The fat lady over there is my cousin Nhanh,” Mum answered calmly.
“It’s not fair, Mum. You let strangers come with us. You even took your dumb sister Thuy. Yet you left my Grandma and Aunty Cuc behind!”
I went to a far corner away from my Mum and everyone else on board and cried.
As darkness fell my heart still ached and longed for Grandma. I wondered if she really had agreed to stay back or whether my Dad had lied to me and never told her about the escape plan. I refused to believe that she would let us go without her. I knew how much she loved her grandchildren and she knew how badly our parents treated us. She would not voluntarily let us out of her sight, or allow my parents to take us away from her.
I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks just thinking of the look on her face and the d
evastation she would feel when she found our house empty, just as I had felt when Ba Nam escaped and left me behind.
Time passed and I began to settle down, realising there was nothing I could do about it. Night fell and the dark sky came alive with magical bright twinkling stars sparkling and dancing over the vast sea. I lay on the deck captivated by the silent ocean, allowing nature to ease my pain.
The following morning, Dad told us we’d reached the Gulf of Thailand. We had made it and everybody danced for joy because we were finally safe from the Viet Cong.
Friendly clear skies and warm calm weather greeted us. I was mesmerised by the clean blue ocean and the magnificent giant whales swimming alongside our boat. This was nothing like the brown waters of Bay Gia and Muoi Rach Tau I had seen all my life. I’d heard stories before and seen drawings, but never believed places like this actually existed. I baked in the hot sun for hours, too busy watching the magical blue water and its beautiful creatures.
Half a day went by. Mum cooked rice and dried seafood for lunch while Dad constantly scanned the ocean with binoculars. Suddenly, with a grim face he pointed to a larger boat in the distance and yelled, “Pirates!”
“Inh, stop fooling around,” Mum shouted.
“I’m not bloody kidding! They have guns and machetes. They have been following us for several hours. I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want to alarm anybody. All this time I’ve been trying to outrun them, but it’s not working.”
“This can’t be happening!” Mum cried.
My heart sank and every single soul on the boat went crazy with fear. Pandemonium broke out. People cried.
“Oh, dear God, please go faster, brother, Inh!” one of Dad’s friends shouted.
“Dear Jesus, they are getting closer! Please make the boat go faster!” an old lady screamed.
“Dear heaven! I don’t want to be their sex slave. Please tell my parents I love them,” Nhanh told Mum as she got ready to jump into the water.
“What are you doing?” Mum shouted while scrambling to get hold of her.
Nhanh looked at Mum with sheer terror.
