“Good idea,” Mai replied, letting Minh lead her out of the kitchen. “You come too. Okay, Miss Iris?”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll be there.”
Mai and Minh departed, and to Iris the room abruptly seemed empty. Without the children, the kitchen had lost its life, the way colors fade from a fish that has been stolen from the sea. Iris wanted to add life and colors to the room, not to see them taken away. “Do you think . . . What do you think about spreading their ashes beneath the trees you planted?” Iris asked Noah. She wiped her eyes, no longer able to keep her tears at bay. Shudders consumed her—aftershocks from the collapse and departure of beauty.
Thien wrapped her arms around Iris and held her tight. “It is good to cry, my sister,” Thien said, even though she hated tears.
Noah moved beside them, searching for their hands, unsure what to say. He couldn’t speak, because he understood that some wounds could never be completely closed. To speak of such healing was to lie. And he didn’t want to lie to Iris and Thien, any more than he wanted to dishonor Tam and Qui.
And so he simply sat and held Iris and Thien as they cried over a girl and an old woman whom they’d found and lost—stars that had shimmered in their presence for a moment and then disappeared into an uncaring sky.
FOR TWO DAYS, LOC HAD BEEN watching and waiting. Pretending to be a blind beggar, he’d sat near a gate in the fence that surrounded the playground. Staring blankly into the playground, he’d looked for Mai and Minh. He had seen them several times, but they’d always been accompanied by an adult.
Sitting so idle had been a hellacious experience for Loc. It reminded him of his youth, of years spent begging on corners. Even worse, he hadn’t been able to light his pipe during the long hours by the playground. And not being able to float between worlds caused aches and memories to torment him the way flies bite at the tender flesh beneath a water buffalo’s eyes.
Loc blamed Mai and Minh for his predicament. If they’d stayed loyal to him, he wouldn’t be out of money, wouldn’t be desperate and sitting against a stone wall. Instead he’d be drifting above the filth that comprised his life. He’d be free of pain. A woman might be beside him, sharing his pipe and soon his bed.
Loc cursed, feeling old and tired without opium within him. Without opium, his rotting tooth assailed him, his once-broken ankle ached. He needed the drug, needed it the way a bicycle needs wheels. Without opium to carry him, he’d end his life. He’d find his mother, kill her, and then step in front of the nearest bus.
Though Loc was unafraid of death, he wanted to live. Opium made this desire possible. With opium he was strong. He could travel to places far and near. He could feel the soft contours of a woman and know that, at least for the moment, she was his.
Mai and Minh’s money allowed such realities and fantasies to exist. Above all other needs in his life, he needed the girl and half boy. Without them, nothing else mattered.
Holding a long, rusting nail in one hand and a beggar’s bowl in the other, Loc continued to watch the playground. When Mai and Minh suddenly appeared, his aches and bitterness departed, replaced by anger and greed. The children were alone. They moved toward a seesaw and soon started to go up and down.
Loc’s rage increased when he realized that the children were wearing new clothes. The money for those clothes could have gone to him, could have bought him a night of pleasure. Gripping the nail like a knife, Loc hurried across the street, moving silently and swiftly, eager to see them cry and to once again hold them in his power.
TO MINH, THE SEESAW DIDN’T SEEM so extraordinary without Tam on it. When she’d been on it, she had seemed to infuse light and life into the plywood elephant to the point where Minh thought it might charge across the playground and into the city. Now the elephant merely went up and down. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t make him smile. It simply was a pair of painted boards connected by another board.
Minh wished that he’d been wrong about Noah’s promise. But in the end, Tam had been taken all too easily. She hadn’t even gone kicking and screaming. She’d simply gone. And in her absence, Minh wondered what would be taken next from him. Maybe he’d get sick and die. Maybe Noah would leave. Most frightening, maybe Mai would make new friends at the center and forget all about him. He was nothing special, he knew. She’d already remained with him far longer than anyone else had. Anyone, that is, but Loc.
“Should we stay here?” Mai asked, pushing against the ground with her sandaled feet.
Minh tapped his finger on the seesaw, wanting her to stay, even though new friends might steal her from him.
“I wish you’d talk,” she replied, frowning. “Why won’t you ever talk to me, Minh the Silent?”
He shrugged, unwilling to answer.
“I should call you Minh the Stubborn, or maybe Minh the Scared. How can you be so smart at games and so scared to talk?”
He kicked harder against the soil, sending her downward quickly.
“Just for once I wish you’d talk to me,” she said, swatting away a bee. “You could tell me anything and I’d listen. You could talk about your toes, your stump. About how I saw you steal that croissant when we were starving. About the Shaq. Or Tam. Just tell me about something or someone and I’ll be so much happier.”
Minh shook his head.
“That’s right. Just sit there. Sit there looking stupid and ignoring me.” Mai wiped away a tear, and started to get off the seesaw.
Minh was about to reach for her when to his horror he saw Loc suddenly appear behind her. Loc grabbed her, slamming her against him as if she were made of straw. He held a nail near her eye. Minh looked toward the center, his legs swinging off the seesaw.
“Don’t move,” Loc said, the nail’s point touching Mai’s lashes. “Either of you brats move or make a sound, and she loses an eye.”
Minh glanced at the nail, and again at the center.
“Don’t test me, half boy,” Loc snarled, his lips drawn back. “I took your hand and I’ll take her eye.”
His vision clouding with tears, Minh nodded. He had never known how he’d lost his hand. He had always wanted to believe that he’d injured it as a baby, that no one could have ever intentionally hurt him.
“You’ll cry more if I poke out her eye,” Loc said, pulling Mai from the seesaw. “Now, follow me—both of you. And keep your mouth shut, girl, or you’ll never see again.”
Minh did as asked, struggling to breathe as Loc carried Mai’s limp figure from the playground, through the gate, and into the street. Loc headed toward a distant scooter that Minh soon recognized. He tried to reach out to Mai, to touch her hand and tell her that he was sorry. But Loc swatted away his fingers and all he could do was cry.
NOAH TOOK A DRINK FROM THE whiskey lemonade that Thien had made for him. Though alcohol usually soothed him, he didn’t feel his aches fading away. Listening to Iris and Thien talk about Tam, he felt helpless and hopeless. Thien’s tears made him want to hold her, but he knew that Iris needed her and so he remained still.
He took another sip of his drink and rose awkwardly from his plastic chair. “I’m going to see how Mai and Minh are doing,” he said, looking from one set of watery eyes to the other.
Iris nodded. “We should . . . get them out of here for a while. What could we do?”
“We could go to the zoo,” Thien suggested. “Or a puppet show.”
Iris blew into a tissue. “The zoo. That’s a good idea. Noah, why don’t you ask them?”
“Sure,” Noah replied, moving slowly, his prosthesis giving him more problems than usual. He stepped outside, scanning the playground. To his surprise, Mai and Minh were nowhere to be seen. Though the seesaw was empty, Noah walked over to it, as if it might tell him where they’d gone.
“Mai?” he called out, holding the elephant’s ear. He glanced around, noticed the open gate, and stepped through it and into the street. He looked left and then right. And his heart dropped like a s
tone when he saw Mai and Minh being forced onto a scooter by Loc.
“Hey!” Noah yelled, hurrying ahead. “Let them go!”
Loc turned in his direction and smiled. He then twisted the throttle and the scooter sped away. Minh was at the rear and reached back toward Noah, his stump held out over the back tire.
“Jump!” Noah shouted, still trying to run after them.
Minh shook his head.
“Turn the key, Mai!” Noah screamed. “Turn it!”
The scooter sped around a corner and vanished. Noah swore, hurrying back toward the kitchen, shouting to Iris and Thien as he drew near, “He got them!”
Iris stepped from the doorway. “What?”
“He got them!”
“What are you talking—”
“Loc! He took them!”
“Loc?”
“He took Mai and Minh!”
Thien stepped on a pot and looked above the fence. “Which way did he go?”
Noah spun around. “I don’t . . . I started shouting and he . . . he turned toward downtown. They were on a scooter.” Noah hit the side of his hip. “Minh reached for me. He wanted me to help. And I tried. I tried but I was too goddamn slow.”
Iris struggled to clear her reeling mind. “Where, Thien, where do you think he’ll take them?”
“I do not—”
“Answer me!”
Thien raised the brim of her hat, still peering above the fence. “I am not sure. But . . . but I do not believe he will keep them in the city.”
“Where would he go?” Iris asked. “For the love of God, how can we catch him?”
Noah turned to Iris. “Are your keys upstairs?”
“Wait, Noah.”
“I’m going after them. Right now!”
“Just—”
“Your keys! Where are they?”
“Stop!” Iris shouted, moving between him and the doorway. “You’re never going to find him like that! Are you crazy?”
Thien put her hand on Noah’s arm. “We should find Sahn. He will know where to look.”
“Sahn?”
“The policeman.”
Iris nodded. “That’s right. He said he’d help us.” She ran her hands through her hair, besieged with dread, trying to think of a plan. “You two, take the scooter. Thien, you know where he walks. Go look for him.”
“And you?” Thien asked.
“A police station isn’t far. I’ll run.”
“But you cannot speak Vietnamese.”
“That doesn’t matter. Someone will speak English and he’ll help.” Iris glanced at the empty seesaw, struggling to control her emotions, to fight an overwhelming sense of panic the likes of which she’d never known. “Why . . . why is this all happening?” she asked, rubbing her brow, her breath coming too fast and shallow. “It’s my fault. I sent them outside. I should have gone with them like Mai asked me to. If only I’d—”
“Stop it,” Noah said, shaking his head, squeezing her shoulders.
“But I shouldn’t have—”
“We’re going to get them back. You hear me? They took Tam and Qui, but they aren’t going to take Mai and Minh.”
“They can’t, Noah. They just can’t.”
He squeezed her shoulders again. “They won’t.”
“But how can you say that? How can you know that?”
“Because Loc needs them. He stole them because he needs them. So he’s not going to hurt anybody. All we have to do is find them. Find them and bring them back.”
“You’re sure?”
“That’s what we’re going to do. Right now.”
She reached into her pocket and handed him the keys to her scooter. “Then find them. Please find them.”
“Just hurry to that police station.”
“I will.”
He turned to Thien. “Let’s go get Sahn.”
THIEN DROVE THE SCOOTER WHILE NOAH scanned their surroundings. She drove with speed and efficiency, weaving around slower traffic, navigating cluttered streets as if she were the wind brushing past leaves. Noah’s gaze was much less precise, darting into crowds and shops. Though his time with the marines had taught him how to focus under pressure, he found it difficult to settle his emotions. Mai and Minh were being held against their will, and the thought of Loc mistreating them filled Noah with worry and rage. While he knew that Loc needed them, he also knew that they could be hurt in ways that wouldn’t prevent them from sitting on a corner and begging for Loc’s money. And this was the knowledge that tore at him, the knowledge that he’d kept secret from Iris.
Painfully aware that each passing minute only gave Loc more time to escape, Noah urged Thien to drive even faster. He often had to hold tightly on to the scooter as she followed the contours of roundabouts or turned abruptly down narrow alleys. People on nearby scooters, usually so polite and understanding, often glared or gestured at Thien for her excessive speed.
“Where else could he be?” Noah asked, wishing they had two scooters.
“We will find him. We just—”
“There!” Noah shouted, pointing toward a uniformed policeman. “Isn’t that him?”
Thien didn’t answer, instead crossing the busy street, holding up one hand as she drove against the flow of oncoming traffic. The beep of her horn sounded when they neared the curb, and Sahn turned toward them. He looked angered by the intrusion, but before he could speak, Thien said hurriedly in Vietnamese, “Captain, Loc kidnapped Mai and Minh! Just now! He came to our center and took them! ”
Sahn grunted. “Kidnapped them? How?”
“We were inside. They were out in the playground.”
“You left them—”
“They were only alone for a minute! He must have been watching.”
“And you’re sure it was Loc?”
“Noah saw him take them.”
“Against their will?”
Thien rose above her seat. “He took them, Captain!”
Sahn’s fingers tightened around the handle of his baton. “Do you have a photo of the children?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yes or no?”
“No. No, we don’t. They just started living at the center and we—”
“Silent,” Sahn replied, holding up his hand. He thought about calling his superiors, about starting a manhunt. He’d do these things, but they’d take time, and they didn’t guarantee the return of the children. “You’ll have to go after him.”
“Go after him?”
“Without a photo, do you think the police will find them? Who would they look for?”
“But Minh . . . he’s easy to describe.”
“He’s one of thousands of homeless boys. You can’t rely on that.”
Thien thought about all of the street children in Saigon alone. “Doesn’t Loc have a record? Can’t you search for him?”
“Of course we’ll search for him. But he won’t be caught easily. And it will take time for us to move. Do you want to wait?” Sahn turned from the sun, his mind churning. “I know this Loc. A long time ago, I arrested him. His family is from Nha Trang. He has friends there. Go. Go to Nha Trang. Look for them on the beach, where the tourists are.”
“Nha Trang? But that’s—”
“He can’t stay in Ho Chi Minh City. And if he can’t stay here, where else would he go but Nha Trang?”
“Will you notify the police there?”
“Right away. But you’d be foolish to count on them. Most will be lazy or corrupt or nothing more than men who sit at desks and kill flies. And they won’t move fast enough.”
“But they might—”
“Better to count on yourselves than them. Count on yourselves and you’ll have no regrets. You or the police will find them, and you’ll have no regrets.”
Thien thought of Nha Trang. She’d never been there before, and while she agreed that they had to move quickly, she didn’t like the thought of being without help in a strange city. “Will you go with us, Captain?” s
he asked, wincing as her calf bumped up against the hot muffler of the scooter.
Sahn would have liked to do just that—to save the children and break Loc forever. But with his eyes, he’d be more of a liability than a help. “If the children were to somehow escape,” he said, “where would Loc go?”
“He’d come back for them. To the center.”
“And I’ll be waiting for him. With the American woman. I’ll protect her and arrest him.”
Thien didn’t respond, and Noah asked her what was happening. “Just another minute, please,” she said in English. “And I will tell you everything.”
“Can he move on that leg?” Sahn asked in Vietnamese.
“He does his best.”
“But can he move? Because if you find those children . . . you’re going to have to take them. Loc won’t give them up. You take them, and if he comes for you, start screaming so loudly that he’ll be forced to run away. He won’t come after you if people are around. So you take them and make a scene. And then get on the first train back.”
“What if he’s not in Nha Trang?”
“Then go to the police station there. I’ll leave instructions for you. I’ll have the police looking everywhere else. And they’ll be looking in Nha Trang. I just don’t want to count on them there. Not when you two can so easily identify the children.”
Thien eyed the oncoming traffic for a break that would allow her to cross the busy street. “Thank you, Captain,” she said, her grip tightening on the throttle.
“Is he a good man?” Sahn asked, staring at Noah.
The question caught Thien off guard, but she straightened and said, “As good as anyone.”
Sahn noted the defiance in her voice and the speed with which she rushed to defend him. “You protect her,” he said in English to Noah. “You understand?”
Noah nodded, wishing that he could speak Vietnamese. “I will.”
“Now go,” Sahn said, continuing in English. “Go and find them. And take them. With strength.”
“Please watch over Miss Iris,” Thien replied, and then twisted the throttle and darted into the approaching traffic.