The Mountains Sing(79)

“I really like it here. Can’t believe it’s already five months.”

Five months. It’d been that long since I guided him around our school. We may not have talked but I’d seen him watching me.

“I’m glad your mother returned to her job as a doctor at B?ch Mai, and your Uncle ??t is getting better,” Tam said.

“But how . . . how do you know?”

“I’ve been asking about you, of course. Any news from your father?”

I shook my head.

“You know . . . I was hoping to run into you, so we could talk.”

“About what?”

“Well, you don’t remember the many things we talked about?”

I turned away, hiding my smile. I couldn’t tell him that everything we’d said to each other was like a song that kept rolling over and over in my mind.

The repairman was an elderly person whose hair looked like a puff of cloud that had fallen down from the sky. He was holding the pumped-up inner tube of a bicycle tire, dipping it into a water basin. A lady sat next to him, watching. She gasped when a stream of bubbles popped up from the tube, rising to the surface.

“That’s a big hole, no wonder you got a flat tire,” the man told the lady. He pushed a toothpick against the bubbles and into the tube. “I’m just marking the hole and will fix it later. Let’s see if there’s another one.”

I’d expected to wait for the repairman, but Tam asked whether he could borrow some of his tools.

“Help yourself.” The man gestured toward a metal box.

Tam dropped his school bag onto the pavement. Sweat rolled down his face as he peeled the chain away, shortened it, and put it back. He turned the pedal, listening to the smooth sound the bike now made, his head nodding. He tightened the brakes, checked the tires and gave them some air with a hand pump.

“He looks like an expert. Where did you find him?” the repairman asked me. He’d started a fire and was using a pair of metal chopsticks to heat up a piece of rubber.

“Tam is my classmate.” I felt my face getting redder.

“You two look like a fine couple.” The lady winked.

“Couldn’t agree more,” the repairman said as he placed the tube, which was now empty of air, onto a wooden board. He removed the toothpick, sealing the hole with the heated rubber patch. Placing a piece of flat metal on top, he hammered it down a few times before dipping the tube into the basin. The water sizzled, sending a curl of smoke and steam upward.

I pretended to watch him, hoping Tam hadn’t heard what the lady had said about us being a couple.

“Done.” Tam let my bike rest on its kickstand. He returned the tools to the repairman and helped him put the tire back on the lady’s bicycle.

“Thank you, young man.” The repairman looked impressed.

“What a nice boy.” The lady leaned toward me. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

The repairman lifted his water can, but it appeared to be empty. “Over there.” He gestured toward the lotus pond. “Plenty of water to wash your hands.”

I wished I could pick up Tam’s bag. With my black hands, I stood there like an idiot as the lady looped the bag strap around his shoulder. He thanked her and turned to me. “Shall we?”

With Tam leading my bike, we crossed the road to reach the pond’s bank. A distance away from us, behind a ring of rippling water, the lotus stretched out, their flowers opening to the wind.

Tam leaned my bike against an ancient tree. Dropping his bag onto the grass, he squatted on the bank, which rose high above the pond’s surface. He bent forward, scooping up some water to wash his hands.

I let go of my bag, too, wishing I could follow Tam but fearing I’d fall into the pond. It looked deep, and I didn’t know how to swim.

“Come, wash your hands,” Tam said. Before I could answer, he splashed a handful of water at me.

I took a few steps back. “Don’t . . .”

Tam chuckled, bent down and scooped up another handful. I ran—and tripped on a large, protruding tree root.

“H??ng!” Tam cried. He rushed to me. “Are you hurt?”

I giggled, trying to get back to my feet. Tam held out his hands and pulled me up. His strength caused me to almost crash into him. His scent made my heart miss a beat. We were so close now. I could feel his breath on my face.

“It’s my turn,” I said. Tam’s eyes flew open as my hands smeared the oil onto his cheeks. I swirled around and started running. Tam caught me by my waist, holding me back.

I laughed. Tam pulled me toward him, his chest brushing against my back.

We faced each other. I lowered my gaze to avoid his eyes. A new and powerful sensation swept through me. We stood in silence, the wind above our heads.

“I . . . I have to go.” I pulled myself away from him, my whole body tingling. “It must be late and I must . . .”

“Come wash your hands.” Tam took my arm, leading me back to the pond. There, he scooped up water and rubbed the oil away from my skin. When he was done, I bent, dipping my handkerchief into the water. With Tam next to me, I was no longer afraid of falling.

Tam closed his eyes as I brought the handkerchief to his face. Tenderly, I wiped away the black marks.

He opened one eye to look at me, his mouth lifting into a radiant smile. “Help me with something?”