The Mountains Sing(103)

“H??ng, I’m not sure . . .” He shook his head.

“What? Tell me.” I clutched his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Mr. H?i looked at me. His eyes were wide. The corners of his mouth twitched. He brought his hands to my shoulders and held me for a long moment. Then he pulled me to him. “I’m really sorry, H??ng. . . . Tam’s grandfather . . . Tam’s grandfather is Wicked Ghost.”

“No!” I pushed him away. “You’re wrong.”

“I wish I were, H??ng. I worked for him. I knew him—”

I backed away from the room. I ran, passing Tam, his parents, and Wicked Ghost. I darted under the flowers and out to the village road.

“H??ng . . . H??ng . . .” Tam was behind me, his voice above the wind. But I raced faster. I couldn’t go back to him. I could no longer love him. He was the flesh and blood of Grandma’s worst enemy.

WE LEFT FOR Hà N?i the next day, much earlier than planned. The public bus was packed with people. I felt empty. My mother tried to console me, but her words couldn’t give wings to the sorrow heavy in my heart.

Did Tam know about Wicked Ghost and not tell me? Had he lied to me?

Back home, I placed the S?n ca on the family altar. Kneeling, I bowed, my forehead touching the ground. I prayed for my father’s soul to come home. I accepted now that I’d never see my Papa again. I accepted now that those I loved so dearly could be taken away from me so suddenly.

Tam came to see me. I turned away from him. He began to follow me home from university. I ignored him. I said nothing when he told me he’d been ignorant of his grandpa’s past. I gave him my silence in return for his words of apology.

No matter how hard I tried, though, I found myself mumbling Tam’s name whenever he was not with me. I missed our talks, our laughter, our fights. At the same time, I feared that if I accepted Tam back, it would be a betrayal of my grandma.

Summer departed, then fall, and winter arrived. Tam braced against the cold, cycling alongside me. He talked to me as if nothing had changed. He told me about the results of his research; he was studying rice. Farmers in his province were planting a new variety that he’d developed. I wished I could tell him about my writing. Without him, my new poems lay silent in darkness.

One cold, rainy day Tam wasn’t waiting for me outside my class. I hung about, expecting to see him turning up late, his smile lighting up the rain and his voice wrapping me in its warmth. Night came, but the night didn’t bring him. The roads home were long and colorless.

Time seemed to stop moving. I could hear my own heartbeat. The slightest noise startled me. I saw Tam’s face everywhere I looked, but when I reached out for him, he was nothing but thin air.

SIX DAYS WENT by. I cycled home alone. Winter never felt so cold. It was colder than that November day many years ago, when I hid with Grandma from the bombs, muddy water up to my waist. I was frightened then that I would die. Now I was terrified that I would have to live on without my soul mate and best friend.

I pedaled slowly through my silent neighborhood, where brick houses had replaced the tin-roofed shacks. Our bàng tree had grown tall.

Pushing my bike inside the house, I found Grandma sitting by the dining table, her palms cupping something in front of her. So lost in her thought, she didn’t even look up when I came in.

I sat down next to her. “Grandma, are you all right?”

“Tam and his parents . . . they were just here to see me.”

She opened her palms. A magnificent necklace.

I reached for its gold chain. The ruby glimmered in my hands. Grandma’s story came rushing back. “Great-Grandma had this in her pocket,” I said. “Wicked Ghost took it from her. It’s our family treasure.”

Grandma nodded. “That terrible man, he stole it and kept it all those years. He only told his daughter the truth about his past before he died. Tam’s mother . . . she found out about the necklace and insisted that it be returned to our family.”

“Wicked Ghost died, Grandma? When?”

“Last week. Yes . . . he’s dead. He’s dead, and it’s impossible to undo his sins. Wicked Ghost didn’t just hurt other people, H??ng, he inflicted pain on his own family. He used to beat his daughter so savagely. Many people in our village thought she wouldn’t survive his beatings.”

I thought about Tam’s mother, her smile, and her tender words. She was a beautiful lotus flower that had risen from a pond of mud.

Grandma shook her head. “I couldn’t believe it when she handed the necklace over to me. She could’ve gotten a fortune for it, but she said it’s important we have it back. She said she wished to be able make it up to us, for the misery her father had caused. I told her it was not her fault. She was his victim, like us.”

Grandma reached for my hand. “H??ng, I’ve been thinking . . . Tam has nothing to do with what happened. I used to believe that blood will tell, but blood evolves and can change, too. Young people can’t be blamed for what their ancestors did.” She smiled. “Tam is a good man, H??ng. I’ve seen how he made you happy. He told me today you mean everything to him, and he won’t give up on you.”

“He did?”

“Yes, in front of his parents, so that says a lot. I understand how difficult this has been for you. But I also know that true love is rare, and once we find our true love, we must hold on to it. What I’m trying to say is, H??ng, my darling, if you want to see Tam again, you have my blessing.”