October 4, 1955
Titi had to trot to keep pace with Bian's long strides as the bigger girl climbed the hill towards the berry bushes. Her sister was tall and strong, with long limbs and reflexes like a tiger. Titi was only five, hampered still by baby fat and a lingering clumsiness.
"Bian, wait!" she panted. "You are too fast for me!"
Bian slowed a little, one hand flying up to rebalance the woven-reed basket she bore on her head as she tripped against a stone. Titi finally closed the gap between them. She slipped her hand into Bian's. The bigger girl squeezed her fingers protectively. Titi was always safe with Bian. Nothing could harm her while Bian was there.
"Bian, tell me a story," she begged, childish love of fantastic terrors emboldening her. "Tell me about the Americans."
"The Americans live far across the sea," Bian said, helping Titi scramble over a fallen tree. "Like the French, they have white faces and hair the color of new fire. They are giants, and they have strange rocks that fall from the sky and make people disappear. They hate us. They hate us even more than the French hate us. They want to kill us. Some day, they will come across the sea and try to kill us all, just like they did in Korea."
Titi shivered in horrified delight. "How do you know?" she asked breathlessly.
"I heard the men talking," Bian said, as she always did. "The men say that we need an army to fight the Americans when they come. A secret army throughout the land, better than the one with which we fight the French. The men in Hanoi work to gather an army."
"Tell me about Hanoi," Titi said dreamily.
"Hanoi is a city," Bian said, with authority.
"What is a city?" asked Titi, her worshipful eyes on her older sister. Bian was eight years old, and she knew everything. She knew more, even, than the grown women, and more importantly she would share her knowledge.
"A city is a big village," Bian said. "Many people live there. The houses are big, with many rooms."
"How many rooms? Two?" asked Titi. The largest house in Ap Tan Thoi was the concrete militia bunker, and it had two rooms.
"More than two," Bian said sagely. She had never been to Hanoi, nor even more than ten miles from the village, but her three years' seniority and quick ears gave her an inexorable authority over this particular audience. "Some have five, or even ten."
Titi, who had just started to grasp the concept of numbers, stared at her outstretched palms in wonder. Five fingers on one hand, ten on both. The idea of such a large house confounded her.
Bian, encouraged by the younger girl's expression, went on. "Some houses are even built with one room set on top of another, reaching up towards the sky, and—"
Both girls froze as a sound echoed through the serenity of the jungle. It was a loud, rumbling noise like distant thunder, a grumble that reverberated among the trees. A motor.
Berry-picking forgotten, the girls ran down the hill and back towards the village. Motors were rarely heard so far from the busier trails that led to and from Saigon, but they always meant that something exciting was about to happen.
The other villagers, those who were not working on the rice paddies or hunting pig in the jungle, were gathering too, and by the time Bian and Titi reached the first thatched huts a large crowd was gathered. They stood back at a respectful distance from the large green jeep. Titi bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to see between the elbows of the adults. Bian set down her empty basket and grabbed her little sister's wrist.
"Come with me," she whispered.
Following Bian's lead, Titi wove between the bigger bodies, and finally they were slipping to the front of the crowd. Bian crouched down in front of one of the old men, who was neither likely to notice her nor to kick her if he did. Titi tried to mimic her sister's posture, but her chubbier legs could not sustain it, so she sat on her bottom with her feet sticking out in front of her.
Around the vehicle, half a dozen tall, strong men in crisp uniforms were conferring together. Titi's eyes grew wide. Soldiers.
One man wearing a cap with a bright red star upon it was scanning the crowd. He pointed and beckoned.
"Giang!" he said.
Titi twisted to look over her shoulder. Giang was Me Dè's name. Sure enough, the other adults parted so that Me Dè could pass. She stepped forward, small and beautiful in her soft brown ao dai. Titi felt a flush of pride that was mirrored fiercely in Bian's eyes. No woman in the village was as handsome as their mother. The soldier held her hand in his, speaking quietly and gesturing. He pointed to the truck, and Titi looked. A squeal of delight slipped from her lips.
"Bian, look!" she said. "Ladies!"
And so there were: perched on the rear bumper of the jeep were two women, their sandaled feet dangling above the ground. Their hands were folded in their laps, and their heads were bowed so that their conical non las obscured their faces.
"Thttt!" Bian hissed, frowning in disapproval. Titi put one hand over her mouth so that no other injudicious sounds should escape.
Me Dè was nodding respectfully now, and the soldier released her hand. She walked towards the two strange women and spoke quietly to them. Then they hopped off of the bumper and bowed. Me Dè bowed in return. Her eyes found the two little girls at the head of the throng of spectators.
"Bian! Titi! Come!" she said, holding out her hand. Titi ran up obediently and put her hand in Me Dè's. Bian was slower to obey. "Bian! Come!" Me Dè repeated sternly. Bian followed reluctantly, looking back over her shoulder at the soldiers.
Me Dè led the way back to the hut she kept for the children. Titi trotted to keep up. The visiting women followed, and Bian brought up the rear. Inside the little house, Me Dè poured her good green tea from the bowl that she kept on the charcoal fire, giving a dish to each of her guests. As they sat, they removed their hats, and Titi saw that they were not women: they were girls. One was perhaps two years older than Bian—perhaps more, for Bian was very tall. The other was almost grown.
Me Dè motioned to her daughters that they, too, should sit. "Thanh, Cam Lan," she said; "This is my daughter Bian, and this is Titi. My girls, Thanh and Cam Lan have come to us from the north. They will live here with us for many months, and Thanh will teach a school for all the children in the village."
"Why?" Titi asked.
"Because the great captain wishes it," Me Dè explained.
"Who is the great captain?" Bian queried, her voice strong and proud.
The elder girl, Thanh, answered. "Captain Quon is a mighty warrior," she proclaimed. "He comes from the North to persuade the people of the South to change their ways and rebel against the wicked French."
Titi did not understand. North of the village there was trackless jungle. South of the village was Ap Bac. To the east were the berry-covered hills and the rice paddies. Far, far to the west was the road that led to Saigon. Her world extended no farther.
Bian was wiser. "Will we change our ways and rebel?" she asked.
"No," Me Dè said. "We already understand that Captain Quon's ways are right. We do not need to change."
"But we shall rebel!" Thanh vowed.
"What are Captan Quon's ways?" Bian asked keenly.
"He wants the rich people to give all of their riches to the poor people," Cam Lan said softly.
Titi clapped her hands with delight. They were the poor people! "Then the poor people will be rich and the rich people will be poor!" she laughed.
"No," Thanh said firmly. "Then no one will be rich, or poor. We will all be the same."
"The same?" Titi frowned to herself. How could all people be the same?
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMThe two girls helped Me Dè and her children prepare the evening meal, but when it was ready Me Dè would not let the household eat. Instead, she bade them sit quietly, and left the house. She returned after a couple of minutes, and smoothed Titi's hair to tidy it, then sat near the door.
Presently, there were footsteps and the soldier with the cap came into the hut. Me Dè and the visiting girls stood and bowed. Bian hastened to do the same. Titi sat and stared, awed by his beautiful uniform and authoritative presence.
His black eyes settled upon her, and a strange glow flickered through them. "And who are you?" he asked.
"Titi," she said, her eyes enormous.
"Titi." The soldier turned to Me Dè. "She looks like Tuyen," he said.
"Yes," said Me Dè. "She does."
The soldier sat down in the place of honor, and Me Dè filled a bowl for him. Tonight there was rice and greens, as always, and also a piece of pork that had been cut into small pieces, and filled the hut with its sweet smell. The soldier took the food and picked up a piece of the succulent meat between finger and thumb. He extended his arm.
"Here, Titi," he said. "Take this and tell me how it tastes."
Titi looked shyly at Me Dè. She was not usually allowed to eat before her elders had tasted their food. Me Dè looked anxious, perhaps worried about this breech of etiquette, but she nodded. Then Titi knew that she was allowed to break with custom tonight.
She cautiously plucked the meat from the soldier's fingers and tasted it. He watched her somberly.
"Well, Titi?" he asked. "How does it taste?"
"Wonderful!" Titi exclaimed.
The man smiled. "Good," he said. "Sit by me and share my bowl, Titi."
For a moment Titi wanted to protest that she was five years old now, and had her own bowl like a big girl, but then she realized that it would be nice to sit by the big, powerful man and share his dish. She seated herself on the woven rush mat next to him. Me Dè smiled, and Titi knew that she had done well.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMThe soldier dined with them and after the meal while Me Dè and the bigger girls cleaned the dishes he took Titi outside. He bade her sit with him on the bench near the hut. She obeyed as Me Dè wished her, and sat watching as the soldier did a very strange thing.
From the pocket of his shirt he took a paper packet and drew out a little white stick. He placed it between his lips. Then he took out a box of the-sticks-that-make-fire-much-faster-than-flint, and ignited one by striking it against his boot-sole. He touched the flame to the end of the stick. Titi gasped, afraid that it would blaze with fire and burn his mouth. But the end of the sick merely glowed briefly like dying embers, and then turned grey.
Then the soldier took the stick from his lips and exhaled a cloud of silver smoke. Titi shivered in delight. The village men could do that, when they puffed on their pipes. It always reminded her of the monsters in Bian's stories. The monsters breathed smoke, and they flew through the air with shrill screams of victory and spit flames that burned the trees. Wherever they passed, the jungle was transformed into a great bonfire that burned forever. The act of breathing smoke was still more exotic when performed by a man who did not even have a pipe.
The darkness came and the girls lay down to sleep. Bian shared Titi's mat and blanket, for the guests had hers. Me Dè went outside then, to sit with the soldier.
Bian was asleep and Titi nearly so when Mè De returned, the soldier following her.
"Duong-san," Me Dè murmured.
"Giang," said the soldier. "The captain has come home."
Titi watched in the gloom as the soldier began to take off Me Dè's ao dai. Me Dè's skin was white in the moonlight that filtered through the window screens. The man unbound her breast-band, and she was naked, but she did not try to cover herself. Instead, Me Dè slowly undressed the soldier until his brown body, too, was bare. Then they kissed, a long kiss that brought them to their knees on Me Dè's sleeping mat.
They continued to kiss, making soft, strange sounds. Then they began to move in a peculiar way. Titi was frightened that the Great Captain was hurting her mother, but Me Dè's gasps were not gasps of pain. At last the motion stopped and the adults seemed to sleep. Titi curled close against Bian and she, too, finally drifted into slumber.