The Mountains Sing(76)
“Shut up,” the man snapped. “Don’t let evil people poison your mind.”
I stood up to leave but didn’t know where to go. Through the door, darkness looked like it harbored the men who’d just robbed me. In hoping Master Th?nh’s nephew would ask where I’d sleep, I sat down again, placing Sáng on my lap. I took off my scarf, wrapping it around his head. If we were to choose the pavement as our home, my baby had to stay warm.
“Hold on,” the man exclaimed. “What happened to your neck, Di?u Lan? It’s bleeding.”
My hand crept up to my neck. I’d been too dazed by the robbery to notice the pain, which now sprang up under my touch. My fingers groped at a sticky liquid. Blood. Quite a lot of it. My scarf had concealed it from the women sellers and Mrs. Chau, but now, it must be quite a sight.
“Ew,” said the woman. “You didn’t believe me, but can’t you see, anh Toàn? She’s indeed bringing us bad luck.”
“You need to see Mr. V?n the healer. I’ll take you,” the man told me.
“No, you won’t,” said the woman. “Mrs. Chinh is picking up her earrings and they aren’t ready yet.”
“Madam is right, I can find my own way to Mr. V?n, Sir.” I bowed to the man.
“He’s a few hundred meters away from here.” The man sighed and pointed to his right. “If you ask our neighbors, they’ll show you the way to Kim Ngan Temple. He’s the keeper there.”
I headed for the door, dizzy. Even if I found the healer, would he treat me without any money?
I wandered through Silver Street, passing homes and shops filled with people and their happiness. My heart sobbed for my children. What a terrible mistake I’d made, walking to Hà N?i, to become a bird without its nest, a tree without its root.
When I found the temple, I went through the antique wooden doors of its entrance, through a spacious yard, and saw a man with white, long hair. His beard was also white, reaching his chest. Sitting cross-legged on the veranda, he was motionless; his eyes were closed, his back straight, his hands on his lap.
Sáng stayed in my arms, watching. After a long while, the man took a few deep breaths and opened his eyes. I came to him, my head bowed low. He nodded his greeting. His calmness reminded me of the wise men who always appeared in our fairy tales, to bring blessings to the unfortunate. My instincts told me he must be Mr. V?n.
“Uncle, I’m told you’re a healer, but I don’t have any money.” When the words escaped my mouth, the shame made me feel as small as an ant.
“How can I help you, my child?”
I knelt, showing him my neck.
“That’s a deep wound.” Mr. V?n winced. He brought out his box of medicine and treated my injury. “Somebody cut you with a knife? What happened?”
“Robbers, Uncle, earlier today.”
“You’re lucky they caused you no other harm.” He shook his head. “A young woman like you should know how to protect herself during these chaotic times.”
WE SPENT THE night on the street. The air was cold but I was warm. Mr. V?n hadn’t charged me for the treatment. I’d asked whether he knew someone who could babysit, and he’d taken me to the house of Mrs. Th?, one of his neighbors. She was an artisan, skilled at making paper animals. She agreed to look after Sáng in exchange for me cleaning her home and washing her clothes. Our agreement had to be kept a secret, of course.
It was barely after lunchtime when I arrived back at the shop, which looked even bigger and brighter than the night before. Master Th?nh’s nephew was behind the counter.
“Hello, Sir,” I greeted him.
He looked up. “Call me Toàn, please.” He glanced toward the entrance, then lowered his voice. “My wife agreed for you to help, but please, stay out of sight when you’re here. Don’t come out unless you have to. If someone asks, pretend to be my cousin who visits for a few days. And if there’s any hint of trouble . . .”
“Then I’ll leave.”
That afternoon, under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Chau, I cleaned the house, washed buckets of clothes, cooked dinner, and bathed the children who came home from school. I tried to keep a cheerful face, but Guava, darkness overwhelmed my every cell. Here I was, taking care of other people’s children while I’d abandoned my own.
I worked twelve hours a day, every day of the week, except for half a day on Sunday. Mrs. Chau might have agreed to hire me at her husband’s request, but she seemed to enjoy having me as n? l?—a slave to boss around. And my salary was so small that I didn’t have anything left after paying for a place to sleep at the back of the artisan’s house, and after buying meager food for Sáng and me.
How could I ever set up a home and bring my children to Hà N?i?
I looked for a better job, but there were many unemployed people sitting on street corners, offering their labor for next to nothing. I tried to please my employers, hoping for a salary raise, but all I got from Mrs. Chau were complaints. I wanted to ask Mr. Toàn for help but didn’t dare. News about the punishment of landlords was flooding into Hà N?i. Each village, each hamlet, and each town had been given a quota of how many rich landowners to denounce, beat, or execute. In poorer villages, even farmers with tiny pieces of land had been killed and their property taken away.