Major Quon liked Titi to dine with him. Each evening when the shadows grew long, Titi would wash her face and hands and underarms, and put on her pretty blue ao dai. She would slip her little brown feet into her banana-leaf sandals, the ones brightly colored with rich dyes. Then she would walk through the village to the militia bunker. The young lieutenants in their loose black uniforms would bow to her, and she to them. Once inside, she would wait in the large main room until Major Quon was ready.
The smaller room served as his home, and had since high summer when the soldiers had come to the village. Major Quon had furnished it with a wooden table and chairs, a radio set, a footlocker and a strange sleeping mat. It was a shallow box raised on four legs, and in the box was a cloth bag stuffed stiff with padding. A smaller bag full of feathers took the place of a head-board and the blankets were always laid out, even in the daytime. Bian called this contraption a bed.
Titi had never seen Major Quon use the bed. When she came to him he was always at the table. He would sit at one end and Titi at the other. They would eat the evening meal—rice and pork and such fruits or vegetables as were in season. Major Quon would speak about his soldiers, or his philosophy, or the bright future that awaited all of Vietnam, and sometimes he would question Titi about her activities that day. Then when the meal was finished he would light on of his cigarettes, the strange sticks that gave him the power to breathe smoke from mouth and nose, and Titi would sit and keep him company in respectful silence. When he was ready to be left alone he would indicate that she should come towards him, and he would draw her onto his knee. She would sit there for a minute or two while he stroked her hair and ran his hands over her kneecaps. Then he would kiss her once, gently, next to her mouth, and bid her goodnight. Titi was then free to depart. Usually she would pass the remainder of the evening in Cam Lan's pleasant company.
Titi was twelve now, but she was still a child. The monthly courses that Me Dè and Cam Lan and Bian and all other women underwent until they grew old had not yet come to Titi. She was, nonetheless, a person of some importance, certainly for a young girl. She helped Cam Lan each day with the task of teaching the children to read, write and cipher. The old people relied upon her often when they had tasks requiring a young body and a discreet tongue. The soldiers, both those in the village under Major Quon, and those in the jungle camps who answered to the colonel, treated her respectfully, as they treated Me Dè.
Bian the soldiers did not treat with respect. They behaved as if she were one of them, no different from the skinny boys learning the warrior's ways. It was true that Bian was as swift, as strong and as fearless as these youth. She was tall and broad-shouldered, with long muscular legs and strong yet feminine hips. She could climb a tree like a monkey and she could fix a truck engine without aid. She wore her hair very long, longer than Titi's or even Cam Lan's, but kept it always in a tight plait wound close around her head. When she let down this black rope she could sit upon its end, back erect and shoulders squared. She was bold, powerful, fearless and beautiful, and Titi worshiped her as much as she ever had.
Bian was learning to use the radio tower. North of the village, in the camp of the soldiers, there was a radio receiver. It supported the Viet Cong communications for the area. More importantly, it could often detect American signals. Bian was learning to speak their language almost as quickly as she was gaining understanding of the equipment.
Today as Titi left the hut where she still lived with Me Dè and the two young women, she saw her sister coming from the direction of the encampments. She wore the loose black tunic and trousers of the Viet Cong, and she carried a long knife strapped to her hip. There was a smudge of grease on one proud cheekbone, but it did nothing to tarnish her stern beauty. When she spied Titi she smiled. The expression warmed the younger girl's heart. It was not often that smiles came to Bian now, for her mind was occupied with many grave matters, but she could always find one for Titi.
"You are pretty today," she said as she drew near.
Titi blushed with pleasure and smoothed the front of her skirt.
"The color suits you well," Bian added thoughtfully.
Me Dè had made the garment from cloth brought all the way from Hanoi by Major Quon. He had brought gifts for the others, too: a new cooking-pot for Me Dè, the knife Bian wore at her side, and for Cam Lan six slates and chalk pencils for the school. Major Quon was fond of Me Dè and her girls.
"How are the men?" Titi asked.
"Preparing," Bian said. "It is whispered that the Americans may come to do battle."
"No!" Titi said. She was afraid. The Americans had come from far across the sea to fight with the South Vietnamese army against those loyal to Ho Chi Minh. They had not yet made any move, but everyone knew the terror they had brought upon Korea, ten years ago when Titi was a tiny child.
"Why do you say that?" Bian asked. "It will be a glorious day when they come, for we shall destroy them!"
Titi was not so certain. Major Quon had often spoken about the Americans' fearsome machines. He spoke of aeroplanes so small and swift that they could not be stopped, and great trucks with blades upon their roofs, blades that cut the air and caused windstorms beneath them as they flew through the air. The Americans had guns far more numerous and more powerful than the noble Viet Cong did, and cannons and bombs. She was afraid that the Americans would come, like the northern barbarians of the old tales, and burn the village, kill all of the men, steal the children away as slaves, and rape the women. Titi did not know what rape meant, but it was a word that the women of the village spoke with whispers in their voices and fear in their eyes. She did not want that to happen to Me Dè, and she did not want herself, and Cam Lan, and Bian and all the small children to be carried away as slaves.
Bian took hold of Titi's chin and tilted her head upwards. "You are afraid," she said. "Do not be afraid! I shall protect you!"
"I know," Titi said. "I will not be afraid if you will protect me." A thought occurred to her. "Will you protect Me Dè also?" she asked.
"Yes," Bian said haughtily. "Yes, I will protect Me Dè."
"And Cam Lan?" Titi asked.
Bian's expression darkened. She did not like Cam Lan, because she was afraid to fight and would have nothing to do with the soldiers. "If she cannot protect herself she shall have no aid from me," she declared.
Titi did not know what to say. The only matter on which she and Bian disagreed was Cam Lan. Titi could not see anything wrong with being frightened: she was frightened herself. It was only that Cam Lan had courage enough to admit that she was scared and to say that she did not want to fight, and Titi, being cowardly, did not. Yet since the day when Thanh had gone away to learn to be a warrior there had been no love between Cam Lan and Bian.
They had not seen Thanh since that day. Once, Titi had asked Major Quon about her. He had explained that she was serving her country and the great Ho Chi Minh in the north, learning skills that could not be gained in the south. "One day," he had said with pride, "she will be a mighty warrior."
Bian smiled once more. "You should go," she said. "You do not want to be late."
"Yes," Titi said softly, once again straightening her garments. "I will see you later?"
"Tomorrow," Bian said. "I will sleep now, and tonight I am listening."
Titi nodded. Many nights Bian would listen, overhearing the broadcasts and attending to the men who translated them. It was in this way that she was learning the American language. "I will see you tomorrow," Titi said. Then she passed Bian and made her way to the concrete bunker.
She did not need to wait long tonight, but over the meal Major Quon was silent. That was not usual for him. He loved to talk, and Titi was a good listener. She never repeated what she heard. She only stored it up, to think about and to learn from. Tonight he did not speak, and it was not her place to address him. Then the meal was finished, and he smoked his cigarette before bringing Titi to sit on his lap.
"Tuyen," he whispered. He often remarked how much she looked like Tuyen, but never did he explain who she was. Titi was wary of asking. It was not meet for a girl of her age to question a man of power and position such as Major Quon. Instead she smiled, for he was kind and his gentle hand playing in her hair felt pleasant. The smile pleased him, and he addressed her again by the other name. "Tuyen, Tuyen."
Titi recognized the tone of voice. He had used it on the first night she had seen him. On that day, though, he had spoken Me Dè's name. Then he had removed her clothing. She did not know if she would like that. Still, perhaps it would please him if she spoke his name in return.
"Duong," she said softly.
Major Quon stared at her, and his hand ceased its motions through her hair. For a moment Titi was afraid that he would strike her, but instead his fingers stroked her cheek. "Tuyen," he said again, and he kissed her.
This time, though, he did not kiss her coolly next to the mouth. This was a deep and penetrating kiss such as Titi had never had before. Certainly Me Dè gave no such kisses. His lips pressed hard against hers, and the hand that had been upon her hair now held her head in place. The other took her about the waist so that she did not slip off of his lap. Suddenly something was in her mouth, and Titi realized that it was his tongue. This frightened her, for it did not seem very sanitary. Nor was it comfortable, pushing against her own and probing the roof of her mouth. Yet Major Quon was a great man and a mighty warrior, and what he did must be good, and pure and right.
It did not feel good, or pure, or right, and Titi was afraid. What would she do if he tried to take off her clothes as he had Me Dè's? What would Bian say if she tried to run? She could not obey—she would be too ashamed to obey—and yet disobedience was disrespect.
Suddenly Major Quon was standing, lifting her in his arms. He carried her to the corner, to the bed that she had never seen him use. He set her upon the padded mat and groped for the fastening on her ao dai, all the while kissing her. Titi fought instinctively, then tried to relax. Surely if such a great man were behaving in this way it was proper to do so, even though she did not feel that it was. She let her hands fall to the mattress, and soon her tunic was open. He then pulled it from her shoulders, and her chest with the small breasts of a girl who would soon become a woman was bare. He touched one, feeling the soft flesh, and she gasped, not certain why she liked a contact that sent terror up her spine.
Abruptly Major Quon withdrew, pulling back and removing his hand. He looked at her, with her legs curled under her, naked to the waist and watching him with her dark, brown eyes.
"Titi," he gasped.
"Duong," she said again.
He shook his head. "Do you know what I want to do?" he asked.
"No, sir," Titi told him.
"But you would do it anyhow?"
"If you wish to do it, it must be right," Titi reasoned.
Something like wonder or shame came to his eyes. He reached out and stroked her hair. He laughed a little and sat on the edge of the bed. "Little Titi, so innocent and trusting," he said. Then he picked up her tunic and held it so that she could slip back into it. "Do you love me so much that you would do even that?"
"I… I do not know if I love you," Titi whispered, hoping her honesty would neither hurt nor anger the great warrior. "I love Me Dè, and I love Bian. I love Cam Lan also, for she is very dear to me. You I respect and I like, but I have not known you long enough to love you."
His smile grew broader and he motioned that she should close her tunic. "I hope you will grow to know me better," he said. "And I hope you will love me as a daughter. But not as a lover. I am sorry, Titi. I should not have touched you in that manner."
"I do not mind," Titi said. Now that it was over and the fear was gone it seemed like very little.
He shook his head firmly. "It is wrong," he said. "I am sorry. I miss Tuyen very much, and you look so much like her. Forgive me."
Titi smiled and nodded her head. He crooked his finger and tapped her chin.
"Good," he said. "I hope I may have the honor of your company again tomorrow?"
"Of course!" Titi said, hopping off the bed and onto the floor. "Goodnight?"
"Goodnight."
He made no move to kiss her, so she bent and kissed him, cool and gentle, just beside his mouth.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
When Titi returned she found Me Dè alone in the hut. She was sewing by the light of a rush candle, and did not look up as the girl entered. Titi stood very still, watching until she could work up the courage to speak.
"Who is Tuyen?" Titi asked at last.
Me Dè raised her eyes, pale lips pressed together. "Tuyen?" she echoed.
"Tuyen. Major Quon has said, many times, how I look like Tuyen. Who is she?"
There was a silence. Then Me Dè laid aside the smock she was mending and patted the mat on which she was seated. "Sit beside me, Titi," she said.
Obediently, Titi sat, tucking her feet beneath her. Me Dè stroked her hair.
"Tuyen was a girl," she said softly. "A very dear friend. My dearest friend. She was younger than I. As much younger as you are younger than Cam Lan. When Bian was born Tuyen came to live with me and help me care for the child."
"Tuyen took care of Bian?" Titi asked. "What about me? Did she take care of me?"
Me Dè shook her head. "Tuyen died on the day that you were born," she said. "When she had given birth to you, the bleeding would not stop, and she died."
"Oh." Titi felt a pang of sadness. She would be heartbroken if Cam Lan died. It must have been very hard for Me Dè when her friend passed from this life. Then the words the older woman had spoken came home, and Titi frowned. "When she had given birth to me?" she whispered. "But do not mothers give birth to their daughters?"
"They do," Me Dè sighed. "You see, little one, I am not your mother."
Titi's brow furrowed. "But you are," she said. "You have always been my mother."
"No," Me Dè murmured. "I have been as a mother to you, and you as a daughter to me, but you were born the daughter of Tuyen. That is why you look like her. Major Quon speaks the truth when he says so: you look very much like her. Small and dark and beautiful."
"But…" Titi said. "But if you are not my mother, then Bian is not my sister."
It was devastating. She could understand Me Dè being as a mother but not one. The idea that she and Bian were not of one blood pained her young heart. Would Bian not hate her when she discovered they were not sisters? Bian did not like many girls. In fact, Titi was the only one in the village to whom she spoke kindly. Titi could not abide the thought of her beloved and worshipped Bian reviling her.
"No, that is not true," Me Dè said softly. "Bian is your sister."
"But you are Bian's mother, and Tuyen is mine," Titi protested. "Sisters are children of the same mother."
"Sometimes that is true," Me Dè said. "But it takes two people to make a child."
This was something Titi had never heard before. "It does?"
"Yes. It takes a man and a woman to make a child," Me Dè said.
"But children grow inside women," said Titi.
"Yes," Me Dè agreed. "But a man plants the seed in a woman's belly, and that seed grows into a baby."
Titi cocked her head to one side. "How does the man plant the seed?" she queried, her mind conjuring frightening images of the spades and bamboo poles that the villagers used when they planted seeds in the earth.
Me Dè paused before she answered. "A man and a woman embrace," she explained. "They take off their clothing and embrace, and their bodies are joined, and the seed is planted," she said.
"Without tools?" Titi confirmed in relief.
"Yes," Me Dè said, laughing a little. "All that is needed is a man and a woman. Then in many months, the child is born."
"I see," Titi said. She did see, she thought. Remembering the night when Me Dè and Quon, then a captain, had embraced without any clothing, she ventured another question. "Does it happen every time? Does a baby always grow?"
"No," Me Dè said. "It is like the seeds that must be planted in certain seasons. If you plant rice at the wrong time of year, the sun will dry it out and it will die. It is the same with the seeds that grow into babies."
"Oh." Titi paused for thought. "So if Bian and I are sisters, although you are not my mother… then it was the same man who planted our seeds: one in you and one in Tuyen."
Me Dè nodded. "That is precisely so," she said. "You and Bian have different mothers, but the same father. Indeed, Cam Lan and Thanh share that same father also. You are all four sisters."
"We are?" Titi cried in delight. She loved Cam Lan. To learn that they were of the same blood was as exhilarating as the idea that she and Bian might not be had been terrible.
"Yes. The same man fathered each of you, and each on a different woman. You are sisters."
Titi basked in this revelation for a long time. Then she reached out to hug the older woman. "Can I still call you my me dè?" she asked softly.
"Of course," she replied. "I am not your mother, but I shall always be your me dè."
Titi was glad. She kissed Me Dè, then went to change from her pretty ao dai into one of her old and comfortable smocks. She picked up the mat that she had been weaving over the last weeks, and began to work on it. The candle had burned low, and night was thick around the little hut before one last question formed in her mind.
"Me Dè," she asked. "Who is my father?"
She received no reply.