The Mountains Sing(34)

As anger filled my chest, tears filled my eyes. I didn’t know the woman in front of me anymore. Perhaps she did send my father to war. Perhaps she did kill babies in the battlefields.

I headed for the door, then whirled around. “I hope Papa comes back, because if he doesn’t, I’m never going to forgive you. Never, ever!”

At home, I asked Grandma whether my mother had truly convinced my father to join the Army.

“No man could escape, H??ng,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know why your mother is blaming herself. It’s true some people cut off their fingers or went into hiding, but everyone I knew who did that suffered severe punishment. They all had to become soldiers in the end. Would I have let your uncles go if there had been a chance for them to escape?”

“But she must have told Papa to go, that’s why she feels guilty.”

“It was a very different time when your father left.” Grandma sighed. “Innocent souls had died because of the bombings. Hà N?i was boiling with anger. There were waves of people volunteering to fight. Like many others, your mother was patriotic.”

I thought about the young boys at my school who had lied about their age, to be able to enter the Army. Yet it wasn’t easy to accept that my mother had helped push my father into the furnace of war.

I went outside, gazing up at the starless sky. “Come home, Papa. Come home and make things right between Mama and me.”

I BURIED MYSELF in books, trying to forget my longings and anger. I had to focus on my studies. Grandma was doing everything she could to give me a chance for a good education, and I had to grab that chance. In three years, I would finish high school and face the university entrance exam.

In August, five months after my mother’s return, I was selected to attend one of Hà N?i’s top schools, Chu V?n An.

This school had luckily survived the bombings. Its ancient buildings proudly stood, looking out over West Lake. From my classroom, I could see fishermen rowing their bamboo boats with their feet, their hands gathering shimmering nets. I could watch women lowering themselves into the water, disappearing completely under rippling circles as they searched for snails.

My new school was much further away from home, so Grandma bought me a bike. Among fifty-four classmates, I was one of the only two who had bicycles. The rest had to walk, regardless of how far away they lived.

My classmates knew Grandma was a trader and didn’t want to be seen with me outside class. No one would come to my house.

I didn’t care. My heart wasn’t at school. It was at home where I could read those so-called anticommunist books that had been banned, but that Grandma still purchased for me. Home was a place of calmness: practicing self-defense techniques with Grandma and playing with our animals. I’d begged Grandma not to sell Black Dots and Pink Nose and she’d found a way: they became mother pigs, giving birth to twenty-two piglets during their first season. We sold fifteen piglets, making a handsome profit. Grandma converted the third bedroom into a pigsty, after moving Uncle ??t’s bed to my parents’ room. “We’ll figure things out when your uncle returns,” she said.

AUTUMN ARRIVED. I hoped that Grandma would help bring my mother home, but something else was on her mind. One day, she returned from work, excited.

“H??ng, guess what? I’m getting another grandchild. Your Auntie Hoa is pregnant. Oh, I can’t believe it.”

“That’s great news, Grandma, but how did you find out?” Neither Uncle Sáng nor Auntie Hoa had contacted us. They’d only seen my mother once.

Grandma winked. “A friend of mine has been visiting your uncle on my behalf.”

She started cooking, happy songs returning to her lips.

I was doing my homework when her voice boomed through the door. “H??ng, help me bring some food to your Auntie Hoa.”

I went out to see her piling boxes of sticky rice, charcoal-grilled fish, and stir-fried vegetables into a bag. “These will give Hoa plenty of milk.”

“I don’t want to see her, Grandma. Besides, I have a test tomorrow.” I headed back to my desk.

“It’s a quick trip.” Grandma’s voice followed me. “Please . . . I’ll bring you there with my bike.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t understand how Grandma could be so forgiving about Uncle Sáng. She should be helping my mother, instead of him.

I was in bed, reading Xuan Qu?nh’s poetry, when Grandma came to me.

“It looks like someone is done with preparing for the test.” She smiled.

I flipped another page, feeling bad that I’d lied about the test. But it was boiling hot outside and Uncle Sáng’s preaching stank.

“H??ng. The baby is your cousin . . .”

“If you want to give them food, do it yourself.”

“I can’t. That’s why I need your help.”

“Why can’t you? Oh I remember.” I cleared my throat, imitating Uncle’s Sáng’s voice. “I’ve become a Party member. My mother can’t be a con bu?n.”

Grandma grimaced. “I don’t ask a lot from you, but this is the one duty you’re going to help me with.”

“I’m no longer a baby buffalo for you to lead me by my nose.” I returned to my book, wishing I could disappear into its pages.

“H??ng! I didn’t bring you up to talk like that. You need to be respectful.”