The Mountains Sing(87)

As I waited, I helped Sáng practice his baby steps on the pavement. When he was bored, I bought him an ice cream. Only when Sáng had finished eating it did Mr. Giáp come back. He apologized for thinking that I’d stolen the silver and gold from my employers. Mr. Toàn had explained to him that they would’ve gone bankrupt without my help, and the payment was just a gesture of gratitude.

Even today, I can’t believe how those coins had changed my fate. Right away I bought a tiny hut in the outskirts of Hà N?i and a travel permit. Master V?n helped me rent a car and a driver—someone he knew and I could trust.

But the happiest day of my life was also the most frightening. It was the third of March, 1956, when I left Hà N?i to look for Minh, ??t, Ng?c, Thu?n, and H?nh. It had been nearly five months since I last saw them, and time was a bird wrestling to flee from me, taking on its wings the possibility that I’d never see my children again.

“Trau.” Sáng pointed out a water buffalo that rose like a hillock above a patch of grass. Beyond, the sun was spreading its blaze across rice fields.

“Water buffalo,” I echoed Sáng’s voice, holding him against me.

The driver had rolled down the windows, and the scent of lush countryside filled my nostrils. I stared at every face that came into view, hoping to see Minh.

It was midday when our car approached K? ??ng Village, Thanh Hóa Province. I asked the driver to wait a distance away from the village as I carried Sáng, venturing inside. The car made me look rich, hence trouble.

I’d come back to this village many times in my mind. Now, memory led us through winding lanes. Arriving under a tree, I looked across to a house with a thick fence made of leafy plants. Do you know where I was, Guava?

Yes . . . I was in front of the house where your mother had stayed.

I listened but heard no noise. I waited, but no one came out. There seemed to be thousands of ants biting my skin.

“Ng?c ?i?” I called.

“Ng?c,” Sáng babbled.

No answer. I walked through the open gate and into the yard.

An unhappy grunt made me jump. A rough-looking man appeared behind the door’s frame. He reminded me of the robbers I’d encountered in Hà N?i.

“What do you want?” he barked, holding his palm above his eyes.

“My daughter Ng?c . . . Is she here?”

“Why would she be in my home?” He bared his crooked teeth. “You crazy woman, get out.”

I stepped closer. “Sir, a few months ago a fifteen-year-old girl came here, looking for a job. I believe—”

Just then, the little girl who’d played hide and seek with Ng?c emerged behind the man, mouthing something, her hand waving frantically to one side.

The man turned. “What’re you doing here, Stupid?”

She darted away.

“But she knows my daughter.” I protested.

“You crazy woman. Get the hell out.”

I WAS STANDING on the road, Sáng crying in my arms, the worries for Ng?c a ball of jumbled threads inside my head, when a small figure burst out from behind the thick fence. The little girl raced toward us. I met her halfway.

“Sister Ng?c ran away from Daddy,” she said, breathless.

I gritted my teeth. “Do you know where she is?”

She started crying. “I saw her begging at the village market a few days ago. Please . . . please find Sister Ng?c.” She dashed back to her house.

I hurried forward.

The market was empty. Everyone had gone home to avoid noon’s heat. There was nothing left except a barren patch of earth.

And a ragged bundle. Lying under a desolate tree, it looked like a human figure, wrapped in a tattered blanket. Could it be my Ng?c?

I raced faster than my heartbeat toward the tree. Kneeling down, I lifted the blanket to find the face that had filled my dreams, the lips that had called my name, the feet that had taken their baby steps at my clapping.

“Ng?c, oh my darling daughter.” I put Sáng down and scooped her up.

“Mama. Mama!” Ng?c buried her face in my chest, her quivering sending tremors through my heart.

We cried and laughed. Then we laughed and cried.

NG?C INSISTED ON holding Sáng as we made our way to the pagoda. I had my arm around her waist, afraid this was only an illusion.

“How long have you been living out on the street, my darling?” I asked.

“A couple of weeks, Mama.”

“I’m sorry. Did that man do something to you?”

“He tried. I didn’t let him. I fought him and ran away.”

I clenched my fists. I wanted to hurt the man, and I knew how. But that would surely put us in danger. And I trusted Heaven to punish him. Kh?ng ai tr?n kh?i l??i tr?i—No evil act escapes Heaven’s net.

I hugged Ng?c tighter, promising myself that I had to take better care of her and make up for what she’d been through.

We reached the pagoda, which looked like it had aged years, not months. The moss-laden roof was sagging; many tiles had fallen, revealing the roof’s flimsy skeleton.

In the front yard, the children gathered around us, bones protruding from their bodies, their naked feet filthy. I searched their faces. Thu?n wasn’t among them.

“Over there, Auntie,” one of them said, pointing toward the garden, which had become a brown, punctured patch of dirt. Two boys were squatting and digging.