The Mountains Sing(75)

The news emptied my body of hope, and I thought I would crumble. I had made no alternative plans, how stupid. At that moment, my mother’s voice echoed in my mind: “Còn n??c còn tát.” While there’s still water, we will scoop.

“Uncle . . . do you think I can talk to the people who live at his house?” I asked.

“Well, good luck. It’s four houses away from here, on this side of the street, the shop that has the bàng tree in front.”

Out on the road, winter seeped back into my bones. I wrapped Sáng’s scarf tighter around his neck. Whatever obstacles lay ahead, I needed to fight them to see my children again.

There it was, the shop that occupied the ground floor of Master Th?nh’s house. I stood outside, dazzled by its bright glow.

Inside, a middle-aged woman emerged from a wooden staircase. “Hello, Sister,” she called cheerfully. “Come on in. What are you looking for? A ring, bracelet, or necklace?”

I stepped forward, conscious of my broken sandals and my blistered feet on the spotless floor. Behind the counter, the woman smiled. Gold jewelry dangled from her ears and clattered on her wrists.

“Madam.” I took a deep breath, “I used to be Master Th?nh’s student. . . .”

The smile on the woman’s face dropped. She scanned me from head to toe. “Master Th?nh died many years ago. Why are you looking for him?”

“Are you his relative, Madam?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just . . . I can only discuss this with the relatives of my master.”

“Spit it out then. I’m his niece.” The woman picked up a cloth, flicking it against the glass counter, as if wanting to chase away bad luck.

“Madam, Master Th?nh was my teacher. He taught my brother and me for five years. He was my father’s best friend. He lived with my family in V?nh Phúc Village—”

“So what? What do you want?” The woman knitted her brow. Her gaze shifted to Sáng, who was clinging to me, watching a large clock in the shape of a cat with a swaying tail on the wall.

“I beg you for a job, Madam. We had trouble with our business and lost our home. Master Th?nh would want his family to help. He was an uncle to us—”

“Uncle? Help?” The woman laughed. “How ridiculous! I’m not even sure you knew him.”

“Is there a problem, Chau?” A man asked, coming down the stairs. His bushy eyebrows and bright eyes reminded me of my master.

“Hello, Sir.” I bowed my head. “I used to be Master Th?nh’s student in Ngh? An—”

“Trust no one these days, anh Toàn.” The woman flicked her cloth. “Too many thieves around.”

“But she does have the middle-region accent.” The man stepped closer. “Uncle Th?nh used to tell me about Ngh? An. What’s your name?”

“Di?u Lan.” I was breathless. “My brother was Tr?n Minh C?ng and my parents Tr?n V?n L??ng and Lê Th? M?n. Master Th?nh taught us from 1930 till 1935. He stayed with our family then. He could speak and write Chinese and French. He taught me the N?m language. His full name was ?inh V?n Th?nh, he was born in the Year of the Dragon. He was an expert in playing the ?àn nh? musical instrument.”

“Yes, that’s my uncle, the scholar.” The man smiled.

I recalled what my master had said and remembered that his name, when put together with his younger brother’s, meant prosperity. “Master Th?nh told us he had a younger brother named V??ng who continued the family tradition of making silver so he could teach.”

“That’s my father. You’re truly Di?u Lan then.” The man clasped his hands. “When did you get to Hà N?i, Sister?”

“Sister this and Sister that,” said the woman. “We can’t afford to give charity to everyone Uncle Th?nh knew.”

The man ignored the woman. He pulled up a chair for me to sit down. “Di?u Lan, your father used to come here with his buffalo cart. Wasn’t it 1942 when he didn’t come anymore? My uncle was very much saddened.”

“Yes, it was 1942. . . . My father was traveling to Hà N?i, he planned to see Master Th?nh but . . . but an accident killed him. Since then, terrible things have happened to us. I lost my mother, brother, and husband.” I hated to cry, but my tears flowed, warming my cheeks. “Please, I beg you for a job. I can clean, cook, wash, help with any household chore.”

The man closed his eyes for a moment then turned to the woman. “Chau . . . you’ve been so stressed with the children. It’d be good to have some help.”

“Help? How could she help with such a young son clinging to her shirt hem? Hire her and we’ll have extra burdens.”

“Madam, I’ll find someone to care for my son.” I didn’t know whom but there should be a way. “I can do all types of housework. I’m good with children.”

“I don’t trust strangers,” the woman said.

The man shook his head. “Di?u Lan, my apologies. I need to talk to my wife about this. Come back tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll let you know.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” hissed the woman. “Haven’t you heard about the Land Reform? She might be a rich landlord running away. Assist her and we’ll be in trouble.”