Beauty Rising (13 page)

“Hello sir,” I said timidly and bowed my head slightly.

“So she is one of your star pupils?” Duc asked Jessica.

“She’s the best I ever had.”

“That’s good to hear. I hope you enjoy your stay in Thai Nguyen.”

“Thank you sir,” said Jessica.

Mr. Duc moved past Jessica and glanced once more my way. Our eyes met, and he smiled warmly at me. He intrigued me.

“Look at that. He asked all about you,” Jessica boasted to me.

“No.”

“Come on. He’ll be back for another shave before you know it.”

I did wonder if I would ever meet him again.

“Hey, are you busy now?” Jessica asked me.

“No. I have nothing going on until tonight.”

“Great. Then come back with me to my guest house. I have some friends coming from Hanoi and we are going to barbeque this afternoon.”

“All right,” I said as I noticed Mr. Duc getting into his black car and driving away.

____________

When we got back to Jessica’s guest house, two Americans were waiting for us.

“I’m sorry. I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Jessica apologized to the one male and one female who were sitting on the wicker patio furniture. They both looked to be in their early twenties.

“No, don’t worry about it. We just got here about twenty minutes ago,” said the girl who gave Jessica a hug.

“Hey, this is Vietnam. We’re used to waiting,” said the tall and quite handsome guy.

Jessica also gave him a quick hug.

“Sarah, Jason. I want you to meet my dear friend My Phuong.”

We all greeted each other in a very friendly manner. One thing I admired about Americans was their friendliness. Every American I had ever met went out of their way to be kind and polite to me. They treated people casually – like you were long lost friends although you had just met each other. In typical fashion, I was laughing and jabbing away with Sarah and Jason in no time at all. I volunteered to take Sarah to the market to buy meat and vegetables while Jason worked on starting some charcoal which Jessica had piled high in an old pig trough. We were all fast friends.

When Sarah and I got back from the market, the charred pieces of wood glowed a deep grey with brilliant orange around the edges. They put the large rack of ribs and the pieces of chicken on the grill as we chatted about what it was like for foreigners to live in Vietnam. I was always fascinated by this topic and wondered if I would ever get a chance to experience another culture.

By the time we sat down to eat, we had a veritable feast in front of us. Ribs, chicken, cole slaw, and cans of Pringles but no beer. Jessica and her friends never drank. They said their organization forbad it, which seemed bizarre to me. I loved beer, especially with barbequed meat. Vietnamese men have a social custom called
nhau
when friends will go out and drink, eat and socialize. Not to be restricted by social mores, Hoa and I would
nhau
at least once a week. At the end of the night we would stagger onto our motorbikes with red faces and little inhibition before hitting the night spots. But now I would have to settle for a Coke as they brought out several bottles from Jessica’s room.

“Jessica, do you have a bottle opener?” asked Jason as he put the bottles of Coke on the fold-out table.

“Yeah. In my kitchen cabinet. Second drawer on the left.”

“No need. I have one on my key chain,” I said and pulled it out from my purse. I had a Hanoi Beer bottle opener right on my key chain which Hoa and I used liberally – never in front of Jessica though.

I handed Jason my keychain and he opened the bottles one by one and tossed the key chain down on the table. We chatted and laughed over the food and drink. It wasn’t as happy as it would have been if they were beer drinkers, but we had a very good time overall.

At around 12:30, we were stuffed and Jessica and I settled down on her couch and crashed up against each other.

“I’m so full,” I said.

“Me too,” said Jessica. “Jason, just come and relax. We can clean that stuff up tomorrow.”

Jason was outside piling up dishes and glasses on the table. Suddenly he entered the room with something in his hand.

“Is this yours?” he asked me pointing at the key ring in his hand.

“Yes.”

“Martin Kinney. You have a driver’s license for Martin Kinney. I know Martin Kinney.”

A painful shot of adrenaline ran through my being.
That is impossible,
I thought. There is no way he could know Martin Kinney.

“I met him last week. You know Tan, right?” he asked Jessica.

“Sure I remember Tan. He’s the taxi driver that took us to see the pottery village.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Tan brought this guy to my guest house just last weekend. He had lost his wallet and was all out of sorts. I felt so bad for the guy. He came here to bury his dad’s ashes who was a soldier during the war, and he lost his wallet and credit cards and everything. I gave him a place to stay for a couple nights and a little spending money so he could make it home.”

My heart raced. Would my friends find out what kind of person I really was? After all, I had to admit to myself then and there that I was nothing more than an English speaking thief and former prostitute. My heart nearly exploded. Why was I like this? What brought me to this point of depravity? It certainly was not my upbringing. If my parents were alive, they would be so ashamed of me. At that point, I was so ashamed of myself. How could I face these fun-loving foreigners as nothing more than a thief? I didn’t deserve their friendship.

“Where did you get this?” Jason asked the dreaded question.

I paused. I paused for an eternity – or so it felt. I didn’t want to answer the question. Jessica sat up and had a concerned look on her face. What would I say? What could I say?

“Well,” I started not knowing where my words would take me. “What a coincidence! Last week, I was over at the
Le Hoi Chua Hang –
the Chua Hang festival – and I had this stone in my shoe. So I stepped over behind the wall of the temple to see what the trouble was. And as I looked down, I saw a wallet. It seemed very strange to have a wallet there, so I opened it up and there was nothing in it except this American driver’s license belonging to Martin Kinney. Of course, I had no idea who he was, but for some reason I kept the license. It’s become my good luck charm.”

They seemed to buy my story. I was always good at creating stories off the cuff. Jason looked down at the license again and shook his head.

“This guy was so far out of his element that I thought he was going to kiss me when I took him to Al’s for a rack of ribs. But you know, he called his mom on my computer, and she just lit into him, swearing at him and telling him how stupid he was. Poor guy.”

“Aww,” sighed Sarah in sympathy.

I nervously fretted about what to say, but I was determined to keep up the façade.

“Now I feel so bad that he had so much trouble. The thief must have taken the money and then ditched the wallet. I can’t believe that you actually met him. How strange!” I said convincingly.

“I know. What are the odds?” asked Jason.

“Well, do you want to send the license back to him? Do you think he would want it?” I asked trying to seem naive.

“Well, probably not. He’s been home for a while now. I’m sure he is getting a replacement license.”

“That’s amazing that you both had something to do with this guy,” said Jessica.

“Totally. It’s kind of creepy,” said Sarah. “Definitely hold onto that license. It’s got to be a good luck charm.”

I agreed. I would not let it out of my sight.

A Politician’s Mistress

I survived the Martin Kinney Jr. driver’s license incident. The thought of Jessica finding out my true nature took my energy away. I got home around three and just fell asleep for about three hours. When I awoke at six, Hoa was there and she started going over everything I needed to know for the evening party. I needed to have my
ao dai
neatly pressed and ready to go. I felt very emotional and wondered how this night would end.

At 8:45 we got on our motorbikes and headed to the salon to meet with Co Thu. We entered to greet Co Thu who was on the phone. Hoa and I sat down and waited for her to finish.

“Yes,” she said. “They’ll be over shortly, and yes, I remember. It’s all taken care of on my end.”

She hung up the phone and looked at us.

“You two look beautiful. Are you all ready to have a good time tonight?”

We both nodded.

“Good. Hoa, it is not at the usual location tonight. Tonight it is at the ‘Big House’.”

Hoa looked surprised.

“You’ve been there once, right?”

“Yes.”

“So you understand?”

“Yes,” Hoa replied. “We will be fine.”

“Okay. It’s time for you to go.”

Hoa nodded and took me by the hand and led me back out to the motorbikes.

“What is it?” I asked. “What is the ‘Big House’?”

“Forget everything I told you. We are not going to one of those parties that I described at all. This will be a little more intimate.”

“Intimate. With who?”

“I’m not sure.”

“But you’ve been there before?”

“Once,” Hoa said. “And…”

She stopped as she put her helmet on.

“And what?”

“We are going to the People’s Council Guest House, and there is going to be a cadre waiting for us. It could be anyone.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know, but don’t worry. When I was there last time, I ended up playing billiards with a deputy police chief all night. It was okay.”

“And did he?” I looked at her trying to understand how far things went that night.

“It was rather innocent. He just kind of flirted with me, but nothing too serious.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“No.”

“Do you think he’ll be there tonight? And who do you think I’ll meet?”

“I have no idea.”

Hoa pressed the automatic ignition button. I straddled my motorbike and did likewise.

“It’s not far,” Hoa said. “Just follow me.”

We drove downtown past the city center and the market, which was boarded up and quiet. We passed the cinema which had a scarce crowd based on the number of vehicles out front. Then we pulled into the courtyard of a large old colonial house. The sign out front read “People’s Council Guest House.” I had spent many nights with many strangers, but for some reason I was nervous. I was used to men coming to me – coming to sing Karaoke and then asking for something more – coming to spend the night in a hotel only to spend the night with me. But this was different. I was no longer on my own turf, and I had no idea what to expect.

We both wore our traditional
ao dai
, and I must admit we were beautiful. We parked our motorbikes off to the left of the house and entered through the front door. A man dressed in a tux greeted us – it was the first time I ever saw a tux in Vietnam – and pointed us through the main doors into a large hall which was decorated with teak furniture with mother of pearl inlays. Only two men mingled about in the hall. They looked at us when we entered but kept their distance.