The Mountains Sing(84)

“How terrible! Did you ask your mother why he’s so unhappy?”

“She doesn’t have much to tell. He’s never let her get close to him. It’s hard to believe she’s come from such a man. She’s totally the opposite.”

Tam went on to say he missed his parents and sister but felt lucky to be living with his uncle. His uncle’s wife had died several years ago, and the kind man had never looked at another woman since.

“My uncle told me true love only happens once in your life,” Tam said.

I thought about Uncle ??t and Miss Nhung and the blossoming of their love. The artificial legs had finally arrived. Uncle ??t had hated them at first, but with Miss Nhung’s help, he learned how to use them.

“Uncle ??t doesn’t drink anymore,” I told Tam. “Miss Nhung visits him every night to make sandals and talk.”

“They’re a good team, just like us, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know.” I thumped his back, blushing.

“TAY EM TêM tr?u, lá tr?u cay x? Ngh? . . .” Grandma’s singing voice filled the kitchen with light. This folk song, about a girl inviting her visitors to eat betel quid, used to be my mother’s favorite. I stole a glance at my mother, hoping she’d at least hum along. No sound escaped her lips. It seemed her silky voice had been robbed from her.

Uncle ??t walked to the dining table, looking tall and manly. The gauntness on his face had disappeared, replaced by a healthy glow.

“Looking good.” Grandma poured steaming vegetables into a big bowl set on the table. “You’re doing well, Son. Just in time for the engagement party.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Haven’t you heard, H??ng?” My mother lowered the rice pot onto the table. “??t and Nhung are getting engaged.”

I rushed to my uncle, embracing him.

“Hey, easy, easy.” My uncle laughed, putting his hands on my shoulders to keep his balance. “I’m very happy, and so thankful.”

My mother pulled up a chair and helped my uncle sit down.

“To be honest, I was afraid Nhung’s parents would say no.” Grandma distributed the chopsticks. “Turned out the girl had done lots of convincing. We have our ancestors’ blessings.” She looked up at our family altar, where incense sticks were smoldering, spreading fragrance around the room.

“Still can’t believe my luck,” my uncle said. “For so long, I didn’t dare to think Nhung would want to see my face again.”

“You underestimated her, Son.” Grandma ladled rice into our bowls.

“I guess I did,” my uncle said, nodding. “Do you think Sister H?nh will be able to come to the party, Mama?”

“I need to write her. I know she wants to see you and celebrate with us.”

I wondered when we’d be able to visit my aunt in Sài Gòn. Her family was doing well; Uncle Tu?n had become a senior army officer.

“I hope Tu?n isn’t involved in those reeducation camps or in punishing Southerners.” Grandma sighed. “Northerners or Southerners, we’re all Vietnamese. I wish that everyone could now live in peace.”

“You think,” whispered Uncle ??t, “that Brother Minh might be in one of those camps? If he went to the South, he might have fought alongside the Americans.”

“I’m sure he didn’t.” My mother put fried spinach into my bowl. “He knew we would be drafted. He wouldn’t want to fight against us.”

“What if he was drafted himself? What if he had no choice but to fight?”

“I don’t care what Minh did,” said Grandma. “I don’t care, as long as he’s alive. But I have to find him, otherwise I won’t be able to close my eyes when death comes and takes me.”

“We’ll find him, Mama,” said Uncle ??t. “And now the war has ended, he’ll look for us.”

“I just telexed Mr. H?i again, he’ll let us know once Minh sends any news to our village,” said Grandma.

Uncle ??t turned to me. “Someone looks very happy these days. Something wonderful is definitely blossoming.”

I swallowed my rice, not knowing what to say.

“Tell Tam to come in,” said Grandma. “You two can talk here, you don’t have to wander around the streets.”

“You mean it, Grandma?” I grabbed her hand.

“What choice do I have?” She shrugged. “When your granddaughter is ngang nh? cua, you have to give in.”

I grinned. “Yes, you’re right, Grandma. I’m stubborn as a sideways-walking crab, but I learned it from someone.”

My mother burst out laughing.

“Plenty of stubborn crabs in this family.” My uncle chuckled.

GRANDMA LOOKED NERVOUS. She was pacing back and forth in front of the National Hospital of Obstetrics, sweat drenching the back of her shirt.

“How is she? How’s the baby?” she asked as soon as she saw me.

“Auntie Hoa is still in labor. I haven’t been able to see her yet.” I handed the empty tin containers back to her. How cruel that Uncle Sáng forbade Grandma to come up. He’d said that his colleagues would be visiting and he’d risk losing his job. How ridiculous.

“Still in labor? But it’s been ages. Do you think she’s all right?”