Beauty Rising (17 page)

As I went to pull back the curtain, a hand from the balcony grabbed my wrist and twisted it back towards me.

“The little whore who won’t learn her lesson,” Duc’s daughter Hue said as she pushed me backwards towards the sitting area.

Once again, I was trapped. I only wanted to die. Hue pushed me into the couch, my back writhing in pain, as she approached and started slapping me across the cheeks – the cheeks that were already swollen and scarred from the afternoon. I had no fight left within me. She slapped me mercilessly while swearing and yelling at me at the top of her lungs. I noticed two other figures standing around her as well – Mrs. Duc and the other daughter. I gave into the pain and took each blow flopping my head back and forth like an inanimate baby doll being shaken by a little girl. When Hue stopped, the second daughter came up into my face and spit on me. Then Mrs. Duc approached carrying a pair of scissors. Their words and insults twirled around the room, but I barely noticed them anymore. I felt semi-unconscious partially unaware of what happened to me. But when I saw the scissors, I jumped backwards in a last attempt of a survival instinct. I wanted to die, but I still didn’t want to be stabbed. As she came closer, I yelled out for the first time “No, No.” She put the scissors up toward my neck. I ducked and closed my eyes – and then she cut off my long flowing hair on which people often complimented me. She threw the pair of scissors on the couch and leaned over to my ear.

“Your lover is coming. Now he will see how beautiful you really are.”

Mrs. Duc glanced over to the other side of the suite. There stood Mr. Duc, who had entered from one of the side rooms on the far end. Mrs. Duc, with her two daughters by her side, looked over at her husband and nodded slightly. Then she smiled at him quickly turning back at me. Her glib grin declared victory. I, the defeated, the bruised, the weary, the hopeless, sat on the brink of death. I wanted it more than anything else. Perhaps he would do it. Perhaps her grim grin was my death warrant. Perhaps she would make him do her bidding. Or maybe that’s when the wiry Cuong would make his appearance – to finish the job. One thing seemed certain; I would no longer be a problem for this family after tonight.

“Farewell,” she said to me calmly and walked out of the room with her daughters behind her.

Several minutes passed and I seemed to almost black out – sitting dazed waiting for the crushing final blow. Then I finally noticed Mr. Duc standing over top of me. Arms folded, staring right at me.

“You should have known better than to open your mouth.”

I kept my eyes looking straight down.

“You could have been something more than just a mistress. You had it all, but look at you now. This will be how I’ll remember you. Ugly and swollen.”

He didn’t flinch from his posturing – arms folded, head tilted to the left. He had a smug grin on his face. He seemed to be a completely different person.

“They really did you good. Turned a masterpiece into a worthless piece of trash.”

His words hurt every wound of my body. I marveled at how someone so dignified, so refined and in control could turn into a predator – licking the wounds of the one he tortured. Gleefully singing death’s serenade.

“It was all your fault,” he continued. “From the day I entered your shop for a shave, you had your eyes on me. You seduced me. You got into my head with your pretty face and young body. But I see your tricks. Yes, I see your tricks.”

He leaned into me.

“And you got what you deserved.”

I raised my arm as if to hit him, but he caught my wrist. Tears ran down my face, they made my wounds burn. I hated him. He rubbed his hand along my chin.

“Such a pity. You used to be so beautiful.”

He got up and went over to the desk and lit a cigarette.

“What’s to become of me?” I feebly asked through the tears.

“Ha,” he laughed. “What’s to become of you? It will be hard to keep your naughty deeds under wraps.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Don’t be silly. But I want something to be very clear.”

He quickly came to the sofa and grabbed me around the neck pushing me backwards. The pain shot through my body, especially from the wounds on my back.

“You will leave Thai Nguyen and never come back. You will never speak of this to anyone, or you will be dead.”

“Stop. It hurts me,” I pleaded.

He continued the pressure around me.

“Do you understand?” he aggressively increased the pressure around my neck. I was choking. I couldn’t breathe. “Do you understand?”

I couldn’t have nodded in affirmation if I wanted to. The pain surrounded me. I gagged for breathe, but there was none. And in my last attempt at life, I reached around with my right hand for anything at all for which to defend myself. I found my purse and felt for my key chain as he continued yelling at me. I felt a hard plastic card in my hand. With all of my remaining strength, I thrust the card right into Mr. Duc’s eye. He recoiled back, immediately to cover his eye with his hands.

“Ahhhhh!” he yelled in pain.

Blood began squirting down his face as he continued screaming and yelling. I got up immediately and went toward the desk, trying to get behind it for at least some protection. He came after me immediately, grabbed me around the waist and threw me against the desk. I desperately searched for another weapon. I finally kneed him in the stomach and he fell backward just enough for me to get out of his grip. He still held his eye and blood continued to gush down his face. He ranted and raved at me as I skirted behind the desk.

“Come here you witch. I will end this right now.”

“Stay away from me,” I said with deepening conviction. “You are the one that caused all of this. You are to blame, not me.”

“You’ve assaulted a party official. You will go to jail for this, if you survive this night. Come here now.”

“Go to hell. You are just like every other corrupt official. Like the ones that killed my parents.”

“Come here now!”

He lunged around the corner of the table at me. He took his hand away from his eye, and it looked like part of his eyeball was hanging out. I panicked and picked up the small
phuc, loc, tho
three figured statue made of marble. I held the heavy symbol of happiness, luck, and longevity with both hands over my head and hurled it at him with all my might as he was no further than four feet away from me. The ridged edge of the statue cut into his forehead and stopped him from advancing. He staggered for a moment, trying to catch his balance on the edge of the desk, but then he collapsed, hitting his head violently on the side of the desk and sprawling out on the floor. I backed up a couple of feet and just stared at him for a moment. The sudden silence was eerie. I wondered if he was dead, but I did not have the nerve to go near him.

Run
, I thought.
Leave.

I ran to the sofa and grabbed my keys, and then I went to the door and picked up my bags when I stopped suddenly. I thought of the key in his pocket. What did I have to lose? I could think of nothing. I put down my bags and ran quickly over to his body which still wasn’t moving. He lay on his stomach with his face away from me. I cautiously kneeled down beside him and slowly reached my hand into his front pocket. I had to nudge his body up a little bit to reach down to the bottom and find his key ring. I retrieved it quickly, then jumped back two steps jittery and afraid he might stir. My heart pounded; adrenaline ripped through my throbbing body, but my mind was clear. I went to the large wooden cabinet from which he extracted my monthly salary for “English lessons”, and opened the door. The safe stood before me with one key in one of the key holes and the other just waiting for its mate. I put the key in and turned it. Then I pushed down on the safe handle and the door creaked open wide. In the back corner sat a large stack of cash. I ran to the suite door, grabbed my backpack and emptied all my clothes onto the floor. I ran back to the safe and stuffed stack after stack of US 50s and 100s into the bag. I stuffed and shoved and nudged in the blood money. Then I saw my diamond necklace, the one Mr. Duc made me wear every time. I put it into my pants pocket and then rushed past his body once more. He remained still and unresponsive. I picked up my other bag and ran out into the hallway and down the stairs. The place remained completely vacant – no doubt the Duc family planned it that way so they could discreetly take care of their little problem. I ran on adrenaline out the main hall door and to my motorbike parked off to the right.

“Come on, come on,” I stumbled with my keys trying to get it into the ignition. I did. It turned. I started it. I zoomed out of the courtyard and into the street.

“I have to get out of Thai Nguyen. I have to leave. No, I have to leave the country.”

My mind went back and forth replaying everything over and over. I didn’t notice my pain at all.

“Hung, maybe Hung can help me.”

After about ten minutes, I ended up on the backside of the university where Hung rented a room. I sat idling on top of the dike road overlooking the university. The road was pitch-black at night with no streetlights. I called Hung.

“Hello.”

“Hung. It’s me. I need to see you now.”

“I’m about ready to go out, I…”

“Hung. Now. Up on Mo Bach road. Hurry. I need you now.”

“OK, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Two minutes later, the headlights from Hung’s bike lit up my face as he came to a stop.

“What in the world happened to you?”

“Nothing. I’m in trouble. Lots of trouble.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you. I just can’t tell you. But it’s bad, real bad. I need your help.”

“What’s going on?”

“No, trust me. It’s much better if you don’t know anything. I’m sure tomorrow they will come asking questions.”

“Who?”

“The police. Hung, just listen. Did you say you had a contact that can move people?”

“Yeah, but, I don’t know. It’s dangerous.”

“I need to get out of the country. Now.”

“My Phuong, I don’t know. You can’t just leave the country. You don’t have that kind of money. I mean, these are serious individuals.”

“Money is not a problem.”

“What do you mean ‘money is not problem’? What in the world is going on?”

“Hung, I’ll pay you $1000 right now to get me in contact with these people.”

“A thousand dollars? Are you serious?”

“Look at me Hung. Do I not look desperate?”

“Yes, you do. Let me make a call.”

He parked the bike and walked away about fifteen feet and started an animated conversation in which I had to strain to understand only every few words. He finally put the phone down, holding the receiver over his pants to block the sound.

“Ten thousand dollars,” he said to me.

I nodded. He looked at me, surprised, and then walked away to finish his conversation. After a minute, he approached me again.

“You are in luck, if you really have that kind of cash. There is a freighter leaving Haiphong tonight at 4AM. There will be several stowaways on it. You sure you want to get into this?”