sons of the backward Commie whores jailed me for two weeks because I was sleeping in the park. Except for them I don't think anybody else cares whether I live or die. And to top it all off, I spent all of my money, and sold my identification and my passport. I haven't eaten in the last three days and I am very tired. Please let me stay here, at least just for a couple of days.”
There was more silence from my mother, and Lam continued. “If you are really going to kick me out, at least feed me something and let me take a shower first. Please?”
My mother did not have time to answer. From outside, we heard the loud noise of trucks, indicating the arrival of Mr. Tran and the policemen. Through the windows, we watched them park their vehicles carelessly on the sidewalk and hurry toward the house on the long and dirty path through the garden. As soon as he saw my mother standing inside, Mr. Tran smiled broadly. His hair was dripping wet and neatly combed to the back of his head like a duck tail, and he was carrying a black nylon backpack across his right shoulder—the Vietcong's style. He gestured for his men to keep up with him as he neared the house.
My mother turned to Lam. “You want to stay here, Lam? Here is a news flash for you: I am no longer the person who could make such a decision. You will need to ask him first.”
“Him? Who?” Lam looked confused.
“See for yourself.” She shrugged.
Lam eyed the newcomers with puzzlement.
“What is going on?” he asked. “Why are the police at your house? What have you done to this place, Khuon?”
My mother greeted Mr. Tran as soon as his feet touched the edge of the marble floor. “Good morning, Mr. Tran. You are right on time. We just finished packing everything. Do you remember Lam?” Turning to Lam, she continued, “And you, Lam, I don't think you need a proper introduction to Mr. Tran here, but there is something I think you deserve to know. As of today, Mr. Tran, our community leader, is the new owner of this house. So, if I were you, I would be careful in paying my respects to him.”
Lam raised his eyebrows as if he wanted to ask more questions, but nothing came.
Finally noticing Lam, Mr. Tran broke out laughing. He walked over to take a hold of Lam's right hand and shook it.
“Oh, don't look so shocked,” he said. “I haven't changed that much. Or maybe I have, judging from the look on your face. But you, too, have changed. Good heavens, I almost didn't recognize you. Well, what can I say?” He shrugged, then turned serious. “You have good eyesight, you can see that I am still the same old gardener who watered your orchids and slept behind your kitchen door. The difference is that I am the new owner. Just like the old proverb said, the rivers have their own segments; men have their own moments. I guess now is my moment.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Come on you two, don't look so gloomy. Are you still with her?” Pointing at my mother, he winked at Lam. “Now that she is no longer the mighty Madame Nguyen, the smoke-spitting, fire-puffing banker?”
Lam struggled for composure. However, Mr. Tran paid no more attention to him. Turning to my mother, he reached inside his backpack to pull out a stack of paper.
“As for you, Khuon, I took the liberty of withdrawing the deed to your house from the Department of Real Estate. And I want you to know it was not by any means an easy task—just like looking for a pin in an ocean bed. Anyhow, I found it, and there are a few places that I need you to sign and fingerprint, which we can do now. The rest of the legal nonsense I can take care of later. Come on over here by my side, so that I can show you.”
My mother walked closer to him. “I'll sign anything you want, but what about my family's proof of registration? I would like to have that before we leave here.”
He nodded. “Sure, I understand your worry—nobody is legal until I say so. But fear no more, I got all the papers
There was more silence from my mother, and Lam continued. “If you are really going to kick me out, at least feed me something and let me take a shower first. Please?”
My mother did not have time to answer. From outside, we heard the loud noise of trucks, indicating the arrival of Mr. Tran and the policemen. Through the windows, we watched them park their vehicles carelessly on the sidewalk and hurry toward the house on the long and dirty path through the garden. As soon as he saw my mother standing inside, Mr. Tran smiled broadly. His hair was dripping wet and neatly combed to the back of his head like a duck tail, and he was carrying a black nylon backpack across his right shoulder—the Vietcong's style. He gestured for his men to keep up with him as he neared the house.
My mother turned to Lam. “You want to stay here, Lam? Here is a news flash for you: I am no longer the person who could make such a decision. You will need to ask him first.”
“Him? Who?” Lam looked confused.
“See for yourself.” She shrugged.
Lam eyed the newcomers with puzzlement.
“What is going on?” he asked. “Why are the police at your house? What have you done to this place, Khuon?”
My mother greeted Mr. Tran as soon as his feet touched the edge of the marble floor. “Good morning, Mr. Tran. You are right on time. We just finished packing everything. Do you remember Lam?” Turning to Lam, she continued, “And you, Lam, I don't think you need a proper introduction to Mr. Tran here, but there is something I think you deserve to know. As of today, Mr. Tran, our community leader, is the new owner of this house. So, if I were you, I would be careful in paying my respects to him.”
Lam raised his eyebrows as if he wanted to ask more questions, but nothing came.
Finally noticing Lam, Mr. Tran broke out laughing. He walked over to take a hold of Lam's right hand and shook it.
“Oh, don't look so shocked,” he said. “I haven't changed that much. Or maybe I have, judging from the look on your face. But you, too, have changed. Good heavens, I almost didn't recognize you. Well, what can I say?” He shrugged, then turned serious. “You have good eyesight, you can see that I am still the same old gardener who watered your orchids and slept behind your kitchen door. The difference is that I am the new owner. Just like the old proverb said, the rivers have their own segments; men have their own moments. I guess now is my moment.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Come on you two, don't look so gloomy. Are you still with her?” Pointing at my mother, he winked at Lam. “Now that she is no longer the mighty Madame Nguyen, the smoke-spitting, fire-puffing banker?”
Lam struggled for composure. However, Mr. Tran paid no more attention to him. Turning to my mother, he reached inside his backpack to pull out a stack of paper.
“As for you, Khuon, I took the liberty of withdrawing the deed to your house from the Department of Real Estate. And I want you to know it was not by any means an easy task—just like looking for a pin in an ocean bed. Anyhow, I found it, and there are a few places that I need you to sign and fingerprint, which we can do now. The rest of the legal nonsense I can take care of later. Come on over here by my side, so that I can show you.”
My mother walked closer to him. “I'll sign anything you want, but what about my family's proof of registration? I would like to have that before we leave here.”
He nodded. “Sure, I understand your worry—nobody is legal until I say so. But fear no more, I got all the papers
Similar Books
