by S. J. Bishop
I kept my eyes peeled, scanning the area for any signs of movement.
Pure adrenaline surged through my veins.
At this time of night, the only people in the jungle were the enemy.
4
Sidney
I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned on the floor mat that served as my bed.
All around me, the rest of the family was fast asleep. The sound of snores, subtle movement, and soft breathing echoed through the one-room home.
I sighed, looking up at the thatched roof, my hands folded over my chest.
He was the reason I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, his face popped up behind my lids, haunting me with his warm smile.
It had all been a lie.
If he had really “loved” me as much as he’d said he did, he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. The thought was painful, like someone had sunk a dagger into my heart and continued to twist it back and forth, carving out a bigger and bigger hole, until eventually, my heart would be no more.
Frustrated and angry that these memories had resurfaced, I got up as quietly as I could, grabbed my journal, and headed outside.
It had to be at least one in the morning. The moon was full, illuminating the slumbering village with a soft glow.
I walked slowly along the main road, looking for somewhere to sit and write out my feelings. I just had to get this off my chest or it would drive me insane, gnawing at me from the inside out.
Soon, I was passing by the small clinic set up in the easternmost part of the village. The staff spoke among themselves, trying to stay awake during the late hours. I figured I might as well join them and make myself useful. Tucking my journal into my back pocket, I tried to clear my mind before I pushed the tent flaps aside.
The female nurses looked at me, confused.
“Xin lỗi.” I bowed my head, apologizing for my sudden presence. I then explained that I couldn’t sleep and that I would be willing to help with whatever they needed. They tasked me with cutting up some bandages into smaller rolls so that they would be easier to use.
Doing so, I looked around, noticing that most of the beds were empty, except for one which housed a man curled up in the far corner. He was covered with an itchy-looking blanket all the way up to his chin. I wondered what was wrong with him.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The sound of thundering footsteps prevented me from dwelling on the topic. I jumped to my feet, preparing for the worst. The nurses had also jumped to attention, their bodies tense and their eyes fixed on the entrance.
Suddenly, a large man barged into the tent, wearing an American uniform.
A soldier.
He was carrying an unconscious girl in his arms. She looked pretty beat-up, with cuts and bruises all over her body.
“Please, you have to help her.”
His voice made me freeze. It was familiar. Too familiar.
The man stepped forward, just enough for the overhead light to shine on the girl’s face but keep him cloaked in shadows.
“Trang Le!” one of the nurses shouted, recognizing the girl. They started to ask the soldier what had happened, but judging by his silence, it was obvious he had no idea what they were saying.
Wasting no time, they took the woman from his arms and laid her down on a nearby bed, tending to her wounds and trying to get a response out of her. From the paleness of her skin, it looked like she had lost a lot of blood.
They worked with unprecedented skill, almost as if they had done this a thousand times before. Quickly, they began stitching up her more severe wounds before wrapping her in bandages from head to toe.
I stood there, not quite sure what to do with myself. I knew that, realistically, if I wanted to be useful, I could step in as a translator, but a part of me didn’t want to acknowledge the man who had brought Trang in or to jeopardize my own hiding spot among the shadows.
Maybe, if I was lucky, I could sneak out of the tent without him ever seeing me. Then I could pretend he wasn’t here, that he didn’t exist.
“Is she going to be okay?” he asked, stepping forward.
The second I saw him, everything came crashing back. All of the memories. The late-night cuddling under the sheets. Staying outside and suffering through the mosquitos, just to see the stars twinkling overhead. Forehead to forehead, dreamily whispering about our life together, thinking everything was perfect.
And then, having all that taken away.
Having him leave without notice. Calling him to demand answers. Asking everyone I knew if they had known about him running off to join the army. That damned letter with his two-bit apology.
My hands tightened into fists by my side, shaking with all of the pent-up emotions I had been suppressing for ten years.
Unable to handle being so close to him, I dashed out of the tent, tears already gathering in the corners of my eyes. I bit the inside of my lip, refusing to let myself cry over him yet again. I had done that way too often in the past, and I was through feeling sorry about what could have been.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
“Sidney!”
I refused to turn around. I picked up the pace and started running.
I could hear him following me.
“Sidney!” he called out again.
He was gaining on me. I had to find some way to lose him, so I slipped into a small alleyway, making my way toward the river.
Once I reached the water, I stopped, catching my breath, thinking I had finally lost him. My heart was beating rapid fire. Droplets of sweat ran down my neck. Goosebumps covered every inch of my body.
I rubbed my arms, suddenly feeling cold and alone. I sat down on a nearby rock, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling so… hollow.
Why did he have to show up now?
5
Kirk
Damn!” I stopped in the middle of the street.
I had lost her.
I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, my urge to punch something overwhelming. Trying to calm myself down, I took a few deep breaths. They did absolutely nothing to clear my head.
It was her. I was so sure it was her. It just had to be.
Knowing I wouldn’t rest until I found her, I started to search the perimeter of the village, even though, realistically, she could have slipped into any of the buildings, making it impossible for me to find her.
Still, I had come this close to touching her again. I couldn’t give up now.
I searched for what felt like hours, to no avail. Maybe she had only been a figment of my imagination, a product of sleep deprivation…
No. She was real. Just as real as Trang had been when she’d stumbled out of the forest, covered in wounds, before collapsing in my arms. I had to go back to the tent and find out if she was okay, but right now, Sidney was the only thing I could think about.
I had to find her.
Eventually, I reached the river. In the distance, I spotted a lone figure, curled up into a fetal position – the same position Sidney always assumed whenever she was upset.
I was just about to run up to her when I hesitated. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Maybe it wasn’t right for me to assume that she would want to talk to me after all this time. After all, she had never responded to my letter. I had waited for months - years even - for her response, but it never came. Countless times, I thought about writing to her again, but what was the point? It was obvious that she no longer wanted anything to do with me. I didn’t blame her, really. I’d probably would have done the same thing.
But, I just couldn’t let her go a second time…
I had made that mistake once, I wasn’t going to make it again.
I kept my steps as quiet as possible as I approached her.
She must have been lost in her own thoughts because she didn’t seem to hear me. Her eyes were closed, her cheek pressed against her knee. For a moment, I thought she had fallen asleep, but then I noticed her fingers toying with the bracelet she wore, the
same bracelet I had given her on our third date. The woven threads that had once been colorful and bright had faded over the years. Some of it had unraveled. By the looks of it, she had never taken it off.
So she hadn’t completely forgotten about me after all…
“Sidney…” I spoke softly, scared that I would spook her into running away again.
Her eyes shot open, narrowing in my direction. I remember those eyes being so warm, almost like liquid honey, but now, they were cold and uninviting.
“Go away,” she spat, venom seeping from her every word.
“Sidney… I…” Now that I had her in front of me, I didn’t know what to say. I had rehearsed this reunion conversation a thousand times before, practicing how I would apologize for abandoning her, but now, my tongue refused to cooperate.
“Look, if you’re here to apologize – to try to explain yourself – don’t bother. I don’t want to hear it,” she growled, her pink lips pressed into a permanent frown as her face contorted into an expression of fury.
“Sidney.” All I could do was say her name. I wanted to tell her how much of a fool I had been. How I had messed up. How I would take it all back if I could.
“Stop saying my name. It’s not going to change anything.” She got up. “You made your choice ten years ago.”
She was about to walk off.
Impulsively, I reached out and grabbed her hand, yanking her toward me. Our bodies collided together. My hands naturally rested on her hips, transporting me back in time to when we used to slow dance together in her room, even when there was no music playing. For a brief, fleeting second, as I held her in my arms, it felt like everything was once again right with the world.
Until…she destroyed that image of perfection by pushing me away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed through her teeth. “Don’t even come near me.”
“Sidney, just let me talk to you for a minute.” Holding her had brought my tongue back to working order. “I know I messed up. No, I did more than mess up. Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. I never should’ve enlisted without telling you, but I thought that maybe if I followed in my brother’s footsteps, I could find out what had happened to him. That I could find him.”
She stood in front of me, her hands crossed over her chest. I could tell by her stance that she wasn’t really listening to me.
“You know, I don’t really care what your excuse is. I’ve wasted countless nights reading that letter you sent me, trying to figure out if you ever felt guilty for leaving me, but you were so obsessed with your damn brother, a brother whom you very well know, as well as I do, has been dead for a long, long time. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re never going to find him.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s where you’re wrong. He’s out here somewhere. I can feel it.”
“You’re delusional.”
“No. Jason is still alive,” I said, trying to convince myself that I hadn’t spent the last ten years on a fool’s errand.
She sighed in exasperation. “You haven’t changed, have you? You just don’t get it.”
I grabbed her by the shoulders, my fingers digging into her flesh, feeling like if I let her go, she would disappear forever. “Sidney, just… I can’t lose you again. I know you haven’t forgotten about me. You’re still wearing the bracelet I gave you.”
She glanced down at her wrist. “That doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does. If you had gotten over me, you would’ve taken it off… admit it, Sidney. Things aren’t over between us.”
“Rot in hell,” she spat out, pushing me away and disappearing into the night.
6
Sidney
The next morning, I woke up before dawn.
Numbly, I rolled out of bed and tiptoed over the slumbering bodies of my surrogate family. At least they looked peaceful in their sleep. Like they didn’t have a care in the world.
I sighed, pushing through the beaded doorway, knowing I would go insane if I had to breathe in the stale air of the cottage any longer.
Outside, the village was just starting to come to life. Fishermen were headed toward their boats. Market vendors were setting up shops. Some women were already sweeping their front porches, as kids gathered buckets full of water for morning baths, cooking, and other tasks.
I felt useless among the crowd. I had been here for months, writing small articles on the locals’ quality of life, but I had yet to get anything published, nor had I been able to get to the root of more pressing military affairs.
Maybe I was wasting my time here…
But at the back of my mind, something kept nagging at me. I was supposed to be here. For whatever reason, I felt an obligation to this cause. And now, Kirk had popped up out of nowhere. This couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?
“Xin chào!”
I looked up at the greeting. It was one of the nurses from last night. I had nearly forgotten about the injured woman Kirk had brought over to the medical tent. What had caused her injuries? How had she ended up in Kirk’s care? A million and one questions buzzed around my head. Could it be that Kirk was one of those infamous American soldiers who abused local women?
The thought made me sick to my stomach. No. Kirk would never do that. He was an asshole, sure, but he wasn’t a rapist.
Still, I felt like I should ask… just to make sure.
I asked the nurse for permission to go inside and see the woman.
She nodded, pushing the tent flap aside for me.
A few nurses were fixing up the vacant beds and fluffing up the pillows. When they saw me, they bowed their heads in respect before returning to their jobs.
Carefully, I walked over to the woman.
“Xin chào,” I whispered softly once I was by her side.
Her eyes remained closed even as I waited for her to respond. Maybe she was asleep.
I was just about to leave when she grabbed my wrist, her long, thin fingers holding on to me tightly. “You’re the American girl living with Chau, aren’t you?”
My eyes widened, somewhat astonished by her near-perfect English. For someone to speak this well, she would have needed some sort of higher education, but all this town offered was a one-room school that taught up to the fourth grade.
“You’re surprised,” she commented, slowly sitting up. There was a pained look on her face, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Careful! Don’t strain yourself.” I eased her back down onto the cot, smoothing her long, luscious locks in a soothing manner. “You need to rest. I just came here to check on how you were doing.”
She was quiet for a moment, staring at the tent’s ceiling. “I am not quite sure myself, miss.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every few months, I end up back in this tent. The nurses recognize me from a mile away.”
I replayed the memory in my mind. Guiltily, all I could really remember was seeing Kirk’s body cloaked in shadows, looking like a ghost from my past that had come back to haunt me. How I had felt like I was suffocating in his presence, overwhelmed with the suddenness of his appearance. But when I managed to ignore him, I could distinctly remember one of the nurses calling out her name.
“One of the nurses called you Trang. Is that your name?”
“It is.”
The conversation died down for a moment, making the air around us thick and unbreathable. Before things could get any worse, the head nurse walked up to Trang, evaluating her wounds and changing some of her bandages. Once done, she helped the girl into a nearby chair, which she instantly sunk into.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
She nodded, a gentle smile on her face. “I’m not used to lying down. I’ve slept in chairs most of my life.”
“Why?” I tilted my head in question, finding the practice rather odd.
She shrugged. “Just a habit. When I was younger, I didn’t have the luxury of a bed, and I didn’t like sleeping on the floor, so most time
s, I just slept in a chair.”
I looked at her. So she was too poor to afford a bed, and yet, her family had to have enough money to educate her.
“I don’t mean to pry, but I’m a journalist, and I’ve been writing articles about life here in the countryside. I’ve noticed that not a lot of the natives learn English. I was just wondering how you managed to learn it so proficiently. Is there a school in a nearby town you attended? Or did you pick it up from the American soldiers?” I couldn’t help but bombard her with questions, my fingers itching to write it all down even though I didn’t have my notepad with me.
As I studied her face and body language, I noticed her eyes growing dull. The corners of her lips sagged downward as her shoulder slumped, making her slouch in her chair.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re only doing your job.” She wet her lips as if she was preparing herself for a lengthy speech. “When I was younger, my father sent me off to get educated. He thought that by doing so, I would be able to get a good job with the government and help bring the family out of poverty.” She paused, taking a deep breath that made her chest heave.
I reached over, laying my hand on hers in an encouraging manner. “You don’t have to continue if you feel uncomfortable. I was just curious. I only came in here to see if you were okay.”
She leaned forward, her eyes peering into mine. “I want to. I need to tell someone. You can write about it and show people the truth. It might help to stop the horror that goes unnoticed every single day.” Her words were fueled by a deep, sincere passion.
I was on the edge of my seat, feeding off her every word. This was exactly what I needed. The story that would finally get the media’s attention and open everyone’s eyes to what was really happening in Vietnam.
“So, I was sent to get an education. My father sat me down in the back of a large truck, telling me that it would bring me to school. In a way, it did, but at the same time, it brought me right to the Gorillas. For years, I served as their slave. At first, I simply did their bidding, but soon, I was learning English from the American prisoners, and once I spoke English well enough, I became vital for their missions. I became their primary translator.”
