This American man, the First Man maybe, he sit at my bed now every day. A soak rag on my head and he all the time praying. “Jesus. Jesus,” he says. This Jesus, I hear about him before in my town; he’s like head monk in the US. So I think maybe this guy is like monk, like Jesus monk.
So sad on his face, so worry. Then all of a sudden angry. Like storm cloud. He yell at the doctor, make the doctor come over, and then he shout at him some more. Jesus one minute. Hell, damn next minute. Strange guy, this monk.
This guy, now he sneak me medicine. Not enough for other kid, he tells me, so eat it quiet. He say I have worm in me, worm that eat my food. Whatever I eat, the worm eat; but if I take this medicine, all the worm will die. Now all the day I take this medicine, my body shake like crazy; all the worm dying inside me make me shake more than ever, until finally no more shaking, no more fever, no more shitting like water.
And this monk, he speak a little Khmer. He tell me he pick me to live. Says he wish he can save all the kid; but me, I’m the chosen one. I don’t know exact what this mean, but one more time I’m lucky.
New clothes. The white Jesus guy, he give me new clothes. Color pant—blue—and white shirt. He cry when I give him my old clothes—thin, gray, too big now I’m so skinny—these Khmer Rouge clothes, stiff with blood and dirt and smell of death. He burn them, but all the time, I smell death in the flame. Stench of corpse, rotting egg smell of girl with the black leg, burn meat smell of body on fire. This monk can cry, but not me.
One month, maybe two, I been in the hospital. The white Jesus monk, every day he come and feed me by his own hand until one day the doctor says I can go to the children center. I don’t know what is this thing, but it look like prison camp; all the kid sleep together in big tent, no mother, no father, only dirt field in the middle for meeting and small pond, all fill with rainwater. I walk to this pond and look in, deep down, for bone or corpse. Like pond near the mango grove.
Then one kid run by, yelling, and now my body is splash, splash with waterdrop, cold, and sharp; and now lotta kid, they run, jump in this pond. They play and splash and all the voices cry out, all crazy, happy, loud. They just run and jump and splash and play, not looking for bone, for corpse. They play like very happy, like never they been soldier, never they kill people, always they been kid.
Also at the children center is a mean lady who every night yell at us, “Go to bed.” The kid, they call her Missus Gotobed when she not looking, and I also pretend I hate her; but really, when she say go to bed, I almost can’t stand up, so tire, so in secret maybe I like this Missus Gotobed. Just a little bit.
Another thing at this children center is game. Volleyball. The kid jump up in the air and hit this ball over a fishing net. All the other kid in camp, they watch, big audience, and so I study this game awhile and see that whoever win become an important kid at the camp, become a little bit famous. The kid who win, all the other kid want to be his friend, maybe because he get extra food or something.
For three day I watch it, then I walk into this dirt square to try this game. I make myself like invisible, just standing at the edge. All this kid hopping like cricket, all around me, and so I also jump, and in my mind I can jump higher than these silly little kid; but my leg, they betray me, no life in my muscle, like old man leg, and so all the kid, they jump, and me, I’m like stone.
And now the ball is coming to me, fast, flying through the sky like bomb, straight at me, and oh, now my muscle know what to do—to duck, to crouch low, hug my knee to my chest, tuck my head in my arm. And wait for the blast. But only sound is little thud in the sand where this volleyball, it land at my feet.
Next sound is kid laughing. Laughing like crazy-monkey laugh, like a hundred crazy monkey, while I walk away making grim face, tough face, like the face long time ago, the three Khmer Rouge soldier I try to teach soccer in the schoolyard. I make this stone face to all these stupid kid.
All except one. One kid, every day I see hiding under a table. This kid, very small, name Runty, I see him these three day, crouch there like hiding, like waiting for bomb to fall. Now I go to this kid, this kid I think was probably also soldier, and take his hand and bring him out from his hiding place. We two—me, skinny kid with old-man body; him, tiny kid with old-man face—we sit together and watch the game.
I sit with Runty and I tell myself I will learn this game, and someday when I get strong, I will play, play it like soldier, fierce, and beat all these kid, and become a star; and then I will be a little bit famous, and my family will hear about me and come to find me.
Real food at the children center. Rice, morning glory, fish even sometime, curry, and vegetable. And the grown-ups here, they say take as much as you want. I don’t believe, so sometime I eat so much my stomach pain me like crazy, because maybe, you don’t know, never this much food will come again.
The Jesus monk have a name. Misster Pond. I know this because he comes to the children center one time with special candy for me, and Missus Gotobed, she yell at him. This candy, Chuckle, it call. Bright color, like jewel, jelly inside, sugar outside. He give this candy only to me and tell me hide from the other kid. But Missus Gotobed, she catch him and scold him very hard. Misster Pond, she say, not good for this kid to eat sugar, and not fair to other kid.
But Misster Pond, he yell at her, tell her mind her own business, also say a curse word. Then leave.
I eat one candy and it make water come in my mouth, very delicious, but also later it make my belly swole. I save the rest, give them out, little piece at a time, to other kid. Especially I give to two kid, both top volleyball player: Sojeat, a guy who fight very hard all the time to get the ball, to be the best; and another kid, Ravi, who can do a move call spike, where you hit the ball very hard into the sand. And I tell them, “Eat this candy, eat it slow, and remember me. I’m the kid who give you this good treat.”
Almost two hundred kid in this place. All orphan. I hear Missus Gotobed say this one time to another worker. “All these kid have no parent,” she say, “no relative. We check very hard, ask everyone.” But I don’t believe it. Outside the children center is many, many tent. In row, like small city. Maybe ten thousand, maybe twenty thousand, maybe one million people out there in this refugee camp.
“Danger out there,” say Missus Gotobed. “Stay away. Stay always on this side of the fence.” But on the other side also maybe is my family. Maybe my mom. Or my aunt. Or my sister. Or Siv or Kha or Mek.
So one day when Missus Gotobed not looking, I sneak out the fence and walk up and down the row.
Family. Mother, father, kid together living. Cooking, playing game, like never they heard of Khmer Rouge. Now, like on the bus, I have this hunger, this greedy, greedy feeling to have what they have. Mother, sister, brother. And now my eyes go crazy, looking everywhere, this way, that way, for maybe one person who is my family. And my eye play a trick, like every girl I see is my little sister Sophea, every boy, is my brother. Until I get close and I see this is someone else family.
Then one guy I see, he smile at me like he know me, and I feel my heart now explode from my chest because this guy know me and I know him, he’s guy from my old town, and he can tell me where is my family. I run to this guy, flying, and now I almost can smell the fish stew my aunt make, and I almost can hear chime of gong floating into our house in the morning, sound of gong and monk chanting to wake me up, and now I know all this sadness, all this time of being lonely, now it’s over, all this time I wait and hope and walk in the jungle and keep my family lock in my heart, now finally, we will be together again, together forever, never ever again apart, and I can tell my aunt, “I do like you say, I bend like the grass, and now look, here I am.”
And now this guy, he smile very wide, like he can’t wait to tell me this good news, so wide, I see all his teeth. And his gum. Black gum. Like dog. Like Khmer Rouge I see one time on the horse. Like Khmer Rouge who think I’m Khmer Rouge.
This guy now, he wink at me. And my heart stop. Because th
is guy is Khmer Rouge. Guy who I bring letter to one time.
All around I look and I see Khmer Rouge, not wearing black pajama but wearing normal clothes. Smoking, playing card, napping. Like they never been soldier. Like they never kill. Never hit with the ax or shoot, or starve kid, or eat the liver of a dead man.
Khmer Rouge living in this refugee camp. This the danger Missus Gotobed talk about. This why there is a fence.
My leg want to run, twitching they want so bad to run. But very slow I turn and walk back to the children center, like just out for a stroll. Because whole place is crazy, like whole new Year Zero, where nothing ever happen before, where everyone forget everything that went before. Where even the killer can get food and tent and live right next to regular family, and everybody act like normal. Crazy place where to stay alive you also have to play this game.
Volleyball now is my life. All day, every day, I study this game. Then at night when everyone else in bed, I sneak out and practice the jumping, the hitting, the move call spike. I do all these move at night when no one can see until I get good, very good. Next time I play, no kid will laugh at me. Next time, those two top player, Sojeat and Ravi, they will want me on their team.
War still going on in Cambodia. We can hear it sometime in the middle of the night, pounding, far away, pounding, like heartbeat. These night Runty, he come sleep in my bed, like old time with Mek. I hold Runty like maybe father or big brother, and he stop shaking.
Today I join the volleyball game. I don’t wait to be ask; I just go. And I do it: I jump, I hit, I spike, and now no one laughing. Now all I hear is clapping. Not like in Khmer Rouge time, everyone start and stop at the same time. Real clapping, cheering. A sound I like. Very much.
Misster Pond now come every day to see me play volleyball. Missus Gotobed, always she watching, and I know what she think: not fair to other kid. So I pretend like I don’t see him. I play hard, to impress him, but also I pass the ball to other kid, and after the game I show these kid to Misster Pond.
One day he says to me, pick two favorite. Runty is my favorite; but he too scare all the time and not very good volleyball player, so I pick two boy: Sojeat, number one player, very competitive guy, and Ravi, tall guy who can spike but a little shy. And Misster Pond tell us three to meet him at dark at the fence for special treat.
When dark comes, we slip away from Missus Gotobed and see Misster Pond at the fence. He have a car, a big Mercedes, and he says, “Get in the trunk.” Sojeat and Ravi not want to go with this guy they don’t know outside the fence, where Missus Gotobed says is danger. They just kid, not ever been a soldier like me, so when someone says danger, they afraid. “Why we have to hide in the trunk,” they say. “Why we can’t sit in the car?” I also have a little fear, but I can’t show this fear. Not to these kid, these volleyball star.
So I jump in the trunk and wave good-bye to them. I make a joke about how Misster Pond is driving me to America and no one else can know. The two boy, they look at each other; and maybe because now I’m a little bit famous at the camp for volleyball, also for having American friend, they believe me. They get in.
Not easy to breathe inside this dark trunk, bumping on the road; and the two boys, they get mad at me, say maybe this Misster Pond is bad guy, maybe he stealing us away to do bad thing to us.
Then the car stop and he open the trunk and we see that we only drive a little way, to American building close to the refugee camp. Inside all white people, pink skin, long nose, drinking beer and eating good food and playing rock ’n’ roll. We eat with them, very good manner, and fall asleep with this good, full belly until it time to go home.
We sneak back and see Missus Gotobed very angry. “Misster Pond,” she say, “very bad, very dangerous thing to do with these boy. Everything I tell you, it go in your right ear and out your left.”
Misster Pond, he just laugh. “They with me,” he say, “they safe.”
Two night later, we hear whisper and creeping outside the children center. Next day, one kid, one volleyball boy, is gone. We see him in the morning, lying in the volleyball place, his stomach cut open, fill with grass.
Missus Gotobed say this kid, he was kill by Khmer Rouge. At night they come to the camp, she say, take kid for fighting. Kid who say no get kill.
Today Misster Pond bring a special present for me and the two volleyball guy, Sojeat and Ravi. Book. American book. Child book of kid playing with dog; Judy, name of dog, I think. And also comic book call Star War, with kid soldier in silver uniform and animal soldier, too, very hairy, with gun. And also heavy book, no picture, call dictionary.
Sojeat always trying to compete; he grab the best one, the Star War book, and read the word out loud, like showing off. Ravi, he more serious guy, so he take the dictionary and very slow, he figure the word, too. Me, I take the Judy book, but the letter like worm on the page to me. So I copy the other two and say the word, too, like I figure it myself; but really all this English is nonsense to me. Sojeat and Ravi, before the Khmer Rouge time they went to school; they can read. A poor kid like me, no schooling, I dream inside the picture, myself with the Judy dog and the boy soldier in Misster Pond Mercedes in America.
Misster Pond take me and Sojeat and Ravi out again at night, and Missus Gotobed very angry. One time she follow us to the American building and yell at him. “Very dangerous, what you’re doing,” she says. “No going in and out at night. Thai guard can shoot you, you know? Maybe they think you Khmer Rouge sneaking in, sneaking out. Maybe shoot you, maybe even kill these kid.” She says he better stop or she will have him arrest.
But Misster Pond, he just tell her to scram.
Five day after that Misster Pond doesn’t come. Five day more, and now I think maybe he left for America and never I will see him again. No Mercedes, no Judy dog. I spit at the book and go play at the volleyball, very fierce, very mean, knocking kid down, hitting kid with ball, calling bad name, winning, winning, every time winning, until no one want to play with me anymore.
Missus Gotobed, she say to me, “Well, your Misster Pond make a big mistake. Maybe now he learn a lesson.” She say this in a voice half mad, half happy. “Just like I warn him,” she say, “he got shot by the guard.”
I yell at her, call her liar, spit at her, and she just make a smirk face.
“Go see him yourself,” she say, “in the hospital.”
At the hospital, Misster Pond is like giant lying in kid cot. He have sweat all over his face, white bandage on his leg—and big smile on his face. Laughing, even. This crazy guy, he has couple bullet in his leg, he say, like this is big joke.
I think now I will spit on him also, this crazy man who make me care about him, give me book, tell me I’m the chosen one, and now he almost get killed. But he say Thailand queen now is very mad that guard shoot American guy. She so mad she give Misster Pond three wishes.
“I tell her what I want,” he say. “Sojeat. Ravi. And you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHOLE WORLD NOW IS NEW TO ME. BIRDSONG IN THE MORNING, hoot owl at night. Hum of insect. Today even the frog, they singing to me. Because Misster Pond, he choose me to go to America.
Song in my heart now, burst to get out, so I sing it, “Let’s twist again, like we did last summer,” very loud on my way to breakfast, so loud even the mynah bird, he join me. I go past the swimming hole today; and this time I go to it, I stand on small log, and, not even thinking, jump, flip myself in the air. Whole world go by, tree upside down, kid face watching upside down, yelling, pointing, then—splash!—and only noise is bubble coming from my nose, inside this water world where it is peace and calm and where my whole life now will be happy all the time.
At breakfast, whole camp knows the news. Everyone, all the kid, they run to touch me, touch Sojeat, touch Ravi, like maybe we have magic, like maybe they can catch this magic, too.
All the kid except one. Runty. I see him hide under the table, hugging himself very tight, eyes close, head tuck in his arm. And all this happiness
, all this magic, now it disappear; and my heart now turn heavy, like stone, like boulder. I push all these kid away now and run, run back to the dorm so I don’t have to see Runty face, see in his eyes that I betray him.
All day I hide in bed, cover over my face, thinking about Runty, about these kid. What will happen to them? I go to America with Peter Pond, but what can they do? Live forever at this place, think only of rice, of volleyball, of more rice? And why I get to go, me who kill, who push people in the grave, do all these bad thing? All these idea put a pressure on my mind, too much thought, all fighting with each other; and all I can do now is hide, hide from these kid I love till it time to go.
Middle of the night, I feel my bed sink down a little, then something warm next to me. Runty. He come, put his arm around me like before. I pull him to me, no word to say all the sorry I feel, but he just hug me very tight. I don’t even know I’m going to say this, the word just come out immediate. “I will come back for you,” I tell him. “I promise.” I don’t know how I’m gonna do this, get him, get all these kid with no family to the United State; I just know it’s true.
I fall asleep planning how I can get famous in the United State, bring these kid with me; and in a dream, all the kid they put the hand on me, push me down, down in the ground, and now I’m lying under big pile, can’t move, can’t get up, big weight on top of me: hundred thousand corpse.
All day Sojeat and Ravi study the English book. Me, I try to copy them, learn a lotta good new word. Fine, thank you. How are you? Let the Force be with you!
They write in the paper book Peter Pond give us. Me, I try the letters, but mostly I draw. Picture of my new life in America. Airplane. Peter Pond Mercedes. Eight-track cassette player. Big bowl of fish-head stew, big pile of fry ants and Chuckle candy every day.
Never Fall Down: A Novel Page 11
