by Russell
while the old comers
envy and wonder
in silence.
I am not sure.
I am happy and sad at the same time.
A knot is inside my heart.
What about Dao?
What if we are separated from Uncle and Auntie?
The translator announces that
the third group will be leaving first
to go to another place within the hour.
Everyone in the third group should pack
immediately.
The first and second groups will follow.
We are dismissed
to pack our belongings.
I am disheartened at this announcement.
I follow Uncle back to our “houses.”
He stops and waits for us.
He whispers,
“You and Dee Dee come with us,
but don’t say anything
and don’t ask any questions.
Just keep it between us.”
My eyes cloud with tears.
He is mourning his daughter,
but he is still thinking about us.
I am even more touched by his
kindness.
I am no longer worried that
Dee Dee and I will be separated
from them.
Dee Dee is overjoyed.
“Are we going to America now?”
“Not yet,” Uncle replies.
78 | GOODBYE, DAO
Dee Dee and I do not have much to pack.
I help Uncle pack the pot,
bowls,
and mats.
Auntie, who didn’t go for the announcement,
is still crying
and sometimes just stares into space.
She hasn’t eaten for days;
she just sips tea.
I want to comfort her.
But I don’t know what to say.
We all take a brisk walk to say goodbye to Dao,
all except for Auntie.
Dao is resting underneath the biggest tree,
where Uncle wrote Dao’s name on a piece of board
on top of the newly piled up dirt
as a grave marker.
I say to Dao quietly,
“Goodbye, Dao.
I promise I will go to Disneyland
to see Snow White for you.
I promise I will touch and feel the snow
for you.
I promise I will keep your secret
for you.
I promise I will try my best to help care for your ma,
your baba, and Nam.
You rest and don’t worry.”
Dao doesn’t say a word.
Dao doesn’t answer me.
79 | WAITING
The third group is ready to leave.
Dee Dee holds the plastic sheets.
I hold the bucket
with bowls and canned food inside.
Uncle takes the pot and the mats.
Nam holds his mother’s hand and supports her
since she doesn’t want Uncle to touch her.
We quietly stand next to Uncle.
We wait
to board the buses
that are parked next to the soldiers’ shed.
The mother whose baby died
at the camp
doesn’t want to leave.
Her husband tries to convince her
to go, and he weeps
so brokenheartedly
it seems
as if all the trees around us
shed tears for them.
I spot Twin Number One.
I feel like something is squeezing my heart.
If not for him,
could Dao still be alive?
Or was it just her bad fate?
And should I tell him
that such a beautiful girl
had a crush on him?
But I decide
I already promised Dao that
the secret
belongs only to
Dao
and me.
80 | BOARDING THE BUS
There are soldiers guarding the buses.
The translator calls out names.
Whenever he calls a person’s name,
they will board the bus
along with their belongings.
I am frightened,
even when
Uncle whispers to Dee Dee and me,
“Don’t say anything
and don’t ask any questions.
We will be on the same bus.”
I want so badly
to ask Uncle
How?
My mind is unsettled,
like something is hanging
in my heart.
Uncle’s name is called.
He approaches the bus
but doesn’t board it.
Instead he says, “I am waiting for my family.”
The translator announces,
“The Nguyen family members!”
Auntie has stopped crying,
but she seems glued to the ground,
despite how much Nam urges her.
Uncle scolds us loudly,
“Didn’t you hear?
Are you still angry with one another?
Help your mother!
Move!”
I get it.
He wants me to take Dao’s place.
What about Dee Dee?
I shoot a questioning glance at Uncle.
I don’t want to leave Dee Dee
behind.
Uncle continues to ignore me,
demanding,
“Come quick! Don’t make other people wait!”
I remember how he told me earlier,
“Don’t say anything,
and don’t ask any questions.”
Immediately,
I hold Auntie’s other side
while Nam helps her on his side.
I look over my shoulder
and motion
for Dee Dee to follow us.
I am very thankful that
Auntie is cooperative
and willing to move.
Together
we approach the bus,
but my heart is thumping
like a tap dancer.
I am afraid the soldier
who carried Dao is there.
I am afraid the interpreter
will look at the list
and find out the truth.
I am afraid that someone in the camp
will blurt out that
I am not their daughter.
But my worry
turns out to be nothing.
We reach the bus,
even though my hands are still
shaking.
And I feel my stomach
churning like the open sea
when I find out that
Dee Dee is still
standing in the same place,
unmoving.
81 | DEE DEE
I look at Uncle with fright.
He again ignores me
but hastily
stomps over to where Dee Dee is
and slaps him in the face,
hard.
Dee Dee bursts out crying.
Uncle drags him by his arm,
scolding,
“Why are you still throwing temper tantrums?”
He hoists him up onto the bus
and pushes him down into a seat,
hard.
I understand
and let out a silent sigh of relief.
I help Auntie board the bus
and squeeze into a seat opposite Uncle,
without saying a word.
I notice Uncle is trying to
control his hands
from shaking.
There are two soldiers with guns
sitting behind us.
As if a clock is in my heart,
I am
counting each second,
hoping the bus will take off immediately
before the soldiers
discover the truth.
So I sit like a statue
too nervous
to turn my head aside
to say thanks to the people
who are wishing us good luck.
I just close my eyes and tell myself,
Be calm.
The soldier behind us will sense that
I am tense
until the engine of the bus
comes to life
and we set off.
I give a “thank you” nod to Uncle
and he returns it with a
nod of assurance.
82 | THE UNKNOWN
We get off next to a small ferry
where an old refugee boat is docked.
We are told to get into the boat
after the soldiers distribute a bag of food
to everyone.
Some are suspicious, asking,
“Why are we going back to a boat?
Aren’t they supposed to take us
to the regular camp?”
Someone says,
“They never told us where they were taking us.
We just assumed that we are going to the camp.”
It is true.
We quiet down.
Uncle asks one of the soldiers.
The soldier simply says,
“Just get into the boat.”
“I am sick of riding boats again!”
I complain and so do the others.
We have no choice
but to do what we are told.
We are just like a kite in the sky that
is controlled by its kite flyer.
We are facing
the unknown.
PART THREE
June 11, 1979
South China Sea
83 | TOWARD THE OPEN SEA
A big ship is anchored at a distance
from the shore.
Two other refugee boats are floating
behind it in a row,
between our boat and the big ship.
After we all board the boat,
the big ship begins to move.
Soon the first refugee boat that is
closest to the big ship sails.
The other boat behind it
moves ahead.
Then our boat,
slowly following the second one,
leaves the dock
with nobody on board piloting it.
It is then that we discover
the big ship is towing all three refugee boats,
one after another,
like a long train.
Our boat is the caboose.
We are perplexed.
So is the captain.
Why is the big ship towing us?
Some guess,
“It might save a lot of gas
while towing us to the refugee camp.”
Others agree.
Someone says, “It is still too early to say.”
After being towed
for two days and two nights nonstop,
it seems the refugee camp is
on the other side of the world.
People start asking questions
about this endless towing.
“Where is the camp?
We could have gone halfway
around the world by now!”
Others try to comfort them, declaring,
“You don’t need to worry about where we are
as long as they are towing us,
as long as they are with us.”
Most of the people agree
and go back to sleep.
I feel so sick
I can’t sleep,
like many other people,
as our boat is being thrown
up and down.
And suddenly we hear
a loud sound.
It sounds close.
It sounds different from the time
the fishermen cut our rope.
84 | WATER
Everyone is suddenly awake,
wondering
where the sound has come from.
Someone shines a flashlight
around
to check.
We don’t see anything.
We try to go back to sleep,
but then someone screams,
“Water!
Water is coming into the boat!”
More flashlights shoot toward
where the noise is coming from.
People are rushing toward
the source of the noise.
The captain goes to investigate
and soon returns, declaring,
“The front of the boat has split!
The dragon bone has broken
because they have been towing
this old boat from the front.
We need strong men
to help bail the water out
before it sinks!”
Uncle and some men go up
with the captain right away.
The men form a bucket brigade immediately.
They take buckets
and go down a hatch in the front of the boat.
Soon they send the buckets of water
up
and the men on the deck
dump it,
then return
the empty buckets to those down below.
They repeat this task
nonstop.
Meanwhile, people
yell in the darkness in
Cantonese, Mandarin, and Vietnamese,
“Giúp tôi! Giúp tôi!”
“Help! Our boat is sinking!”
Some shine flashlights to get the attention
of the big ship,
but the lights are swallowed up
by the darkness.
The yelling is ripped away
by the roaring wind.
But they keep yelling!
They keep shining the flashlights.
They keep bailing out the water.
85 | THE NIGHTMARE
The second boat, the one in front of us,
hears us.
They yell for us.
The first one hears them.
They yell for us.
But the big ship does not hear them.
It keeps sailing on.
Strangely, it sails
farther and farther away,
completely immersed in the darkness.
The soldiers do not hear us.
It is then that
our captain notices that
our boat is just drifting,
although we are still tied to the
second boat.
The soldiers must have cut the towrope
to the first boat
without any warning.
When?
Before the dragon bone broke?
No one knows,
not even the captain.
So all three of our refugee boats
are just drifting
in the dark open ocean.
86 | INSIDE THE CABIN
The fury of our anger
over being betrayed again explodes
like dragon’s fire
bursting up to the sky,
as our captain discovers that
the engine in our boat
doesn’t work.
Someone declares,
“Maybe they messed up the boat on purpose
so we can’t get back to land!”
Some agree;
some are not sure.
One says calmly,
“I am not sure about that.
Maybe it was disabled by other refugees before,
like how we sabotaged ours.”
“Oh, yes,” we remember.
The angry voices
die down.
Just then the sailor with rotten teeth
reports,
“There are two full barrels of water
and a bag of rice
in the storage room.”
This ignites a flame of anger
once more.
Someone says,
“That’s why they left us the water and rice!
They know they are guilty!”
Another declares,
“We should be glad that
they still have a conscience
to leave us water and rice.”
The old man in blue cries out,
“Having a conscience or no conscience,
we still face the same fate!”
The old lady in black
wails,
“How pitiful we are!
Buddha hasn’t blessed us!
We will all be drowned for sure.”
Someone shouts,
“Shut up! You’re getting on my nerves!”
But the old lady in black
doesn’t shut up;
she keeps on wailing,
“There’s no use in having water and rice.
We are all going to drown!”
Babies and small children seem to know
what is ahead of us
and cry with fear,
no matter how much
their mothers try to comfort them.
Dee Dee holds me tightly and asks,
“Are we going to die?”
I can’t answer him.
The whole boat is facing
a disaster.
Auntie appears to be
the calmest of all.
She doesn’t cry,
she doesn’t ask,
she doesn’t say a word,
as if the world is far
beyond her.
Seeing that,
I am scared and sad
at the same time.
87 | DRIFTING
Three boats are drifting in the vast sea,
surrounded by the darkness.
All three boats,
which are not our original boats,
have the same fate:
their engines don’t work.
Without knowing the direction we are drifting,
without knowing where we are,
without knowing if a storm will come
at any minute,
we are all in danger of being
swallowed up by the open sea.
The captains and sailors
are helpless.
They just let the boats drift. . . .
