"Don't you know I'm still here for you? So what do you think you're doing? Who do you think you're fooling? This is me you're not talking to. Hey, this is me, you're not talking to."
The Vietnamese man set his guitar down as he finished playing a Travis Randall song. He always loved to sing as well. Sometimes he believed it helped him cope with struggles in his life. Although that was not entirely true anymore. Sure he lived in a rundown room an old boarding house. Sure he only worked at a Mexican food restaurant. Sure he was thousands and thousands of miles away from old village. He smiled as he sat on the couch, picking up a couple of photos left on the table beside him.
The first photo was of his daughter, Mai when she was an infant. It was worn after years of being stuffed in his pockets as he tried to get out of the country. "She was so beautiful. It always amazes me of how grown up she is now. " Short black hair and the brightest eyes he ever saw, he would remember that Christmas day for the rest of his life. Hugging her and holding her, he had never felt so happy in all of his time in America. And it was all thanks to his landlord's grandson. It didn't take him long to figure out that it was Arnold who found her. There was no one else that could be his Secret Santa. So there was no need to remind him. He liked seeing people happy. He only told the story to the boy because it was sort of like his time to vent. Arnold was always a good kid and treated others with respect. That was why he told the story.
Things were difficult without her. No matter what country he was in, Mr. Huynh always missed her. Without his wife, who died from disease after Mai was born; there were two holes in his heart that existed. When his daughter came into that room and he saw her, he saw both of them. "She really does look like her mother too."
Setting aside the photograph on his couch, he turned on his dim lamplight to get a better look at the next one. Even though he had been living in the boarding house with everyone for years, the detail was hard to make out with his smudged glasses. "I guess I should wash them." Standing up, he was about to go out to the bathroom in the hall. However, he bumped into a young boy who was running down the hall. It was more of an accidental shove for him into the wall.
Arnold stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Sorry Mr. Huynh!" He looked guilty; face glancing down as he shuffled his feet and hands behind his back. He didn't normally act like this. Unfortunately, there was nothing that the man could think of that could be bothering him or making him so excited. He pushed a hand against the wall to balance himself. "That is alright Arnold," he smiled at him, "Did you have a good day at school?"
Knowing that the adult was fine, the blonde eased. "Yeah, I guess I did. Thanks." The Vietnamese man bowed a little. "You're welcome." Arnold continued down the hallway, pulling on the cord that allowed him to go upstairs to his room. As he shut his door, more as if he slammed it, startling Mr. Huynh. "That Arnold, what is going on with him?" His curiosity grew stronger as he went into the bathroom to take care of his glasses.
This was nothing new to him either. He never really told Arnold, but he was always proud of him for a lot of things he did – especially with him, the boy's grandparents and the other boarders. From teaching Oskar how to read to helping find peace between Ernie and Grandma when they fought over the Circle Theatre; from being by his grandfather's side when he thought he was going to die to understanding him when he became a famous country star who wanted a simple life.
Overall his life wasn't simple, even all the time when he was living in the house with at least eight other people, random animals, and a pet pig. But it was the lifestyle that he loved. It wasn't too complicated nor did he have anything to complain that much anymore. Right now everything was just fine.
His hands wet with soap and water as he rinsed out the lenses, it was kind of blurry. Grabbing a small towel over on the side, he dried the glasses off and put them on. Unfortunately, even though he could see, the towel reminded him of the boy – more importantly his mother Stella. It was his baby bath cloth that she had hand made for him. A soft blue fabric, it had Arnold's name stitched in cursive yellow thread. It still had a shine to it and it appeared very clean.
"He must have held onto it." Feeling its padded texture, Mr. Huynh recalled the day that she was finishing her project.
It had been about three or four months since Miles, Stella, and Arnold all came home from living in San Lorenzo for so long. They were such a happy family. Of course the man felt really happy for them, since he had gotten to know Miles very well when he was still in Hillwood before his anthropology trip. They would have a lot of conversations about different cultures and their jobs. And Stella was a kind woman. She was perfect for his younger friend. Having her in the boarding house, and controlling Miles' sense of overkill activities, made the tension easier.
The one little guy, Arnold, was the center of attention though being the baby of the family. Wide green eyes, he was definitely their son. They told him and the others about how the reason why they came to realizing that they had to come back home. It was too dangerous for their child and they had to protect him since he seemed to have inherited their love for adventure. Mr. Huynh never told them but he was proud of them for coming there. He understood when he had to give Mai to the soldier all of those years ago. Those two were meant to be good parents.
Mr. Huynh was coming down the main hallway after a long day at the restaurant. He had just begun to work there and was overwhelmed. Feeling a little sweat coming down his face, he stumbled into the living room and landed on the couch facing the television. He wiped his forehead and closed his eyes, too tired to watch TV. Suddenly, he heard light footsteps in the room and a cold wet washcloth on him. It felt so good and cool, letting out a sigh as he opened his eyes only to see Stella in the chair on the side.
"Hello Stella. What are you doing in here?" he asked.
She simply smiled and lifted a small baby bag, pulling out the baby towel that she had been working on for Arnold for about a month. She only did this whenever he was taking a nap, so he thought that they wouldn't hear him crying from being awake any time soon.
"Oh nothing much," as she worked on finishing the rim, "just put Arnold down for his nap. So I'm just using my time to work on this while I had it. When I was going into the kitchen, I saw that you had being lying down. That's why I put that rag on your head. Is it helping?"
Mr. Huynh nodded. "Yes it is. Thank you Stella."
"You're welcome," she chuckled, "I assume that you are still adjusting to your new job huh?"
Sitting up, he leaned he elbows on his knees for support. He kept wiping the cloth on his face. The water felt so nice. "Yes. It has been very hard. But I am sure that it will get easier."
Putting away her materials save for the washcloth, "Well, that will probably happen. It still is taking time for Miles and myself to adjust being parents. But I wouldn't trade it for anything." Her happy face warmed his mood. Stella just had that kind of presence. If she was content there was no tension.
She looked somewhat nervous at the same time. "Um, Huynh, I was wondering if you could tell me something. And please be honest with me."
Setting the towel aside, he turned to her. "Yes, of course," he glanced at her piece of work, "are you asking me for my opinion on the towel. Because if it is I think it is very good. You did a good job." He encouraged her. And it did really turn out well. The stitches were lined perfectly and her son's name stood out from the bottom in bright yellow.
Stella grinned at him. "Thanks. That was what I going to ask. I'm glad you like it," she started to laugh, "but hopefully it won't get ruined when Arnold thinks it is a bath toy."
Then he joined her.
If only he knew back then that it wasn't going to become a mess because Arnold saw it more as a blanket than a bath towel, only to keep it after so long since they left, he frowned at the memory. The other day was hard on Stella and Miles' son; everyone knew it in the house. It had been eight years since they went back to San Lorenzo never to return.
Hanging the towel to dry, he thought about Arnold's behavior and how he actually seemed excited for some reason. "And it is his birthday. He never wants to celebrate his birthday. Maybe I should ask or at least tell him to try and have a good day."
Stepping out into the hallway again, he straightened his glasses and went up the staircase. He had only been in Arnold's room once before when he and the other boarders were asked to think of ideas to get Grandpa to not sell the boarding house. The steps creaked as he went up. When he made it to the top of the stairs, he knocked on the door.
"Come in!" yelled the boy.
Opening and slowly entering, Arnold seemed to be at his desk writing something. He was writing so fast that it amazed Mr. Huynh that any ten year old could do that. When he closed the door, his younger neighbor turned his chair.
"Mr. Huynh, what brings you up here?" he asked considerately. The man stepped forward, thinking of how his voice sounded so much like both of his parents. There he was blonde hair and all. Only living one decade, and he could see that he had dealt with so much already.
Seeing his red couch, he gestured to it as a way to ask. "Sure go ahead." Laying down his pencil he moved over to sit next to Mr. Huynh. To an outsider, it would have seemed weird that a young American kid and an older Vietnamese man having a talk on a small sofa underneath a sky light. To them it was a friendly conversation.
"Well Arnold, first I would like to say Happy Birthday to you. Being ten years old is a great year." He said enthusiastically. The boy smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks Mr. Huynh. It means a lot. How's your day going? I heard you singing that Travis Randall singing when I came up the stairs."
"Oh that was nothing. Like I told you I do it for fun." Arnold smirked, "Also for the simple things right?"
He chuckled. "Yes, that's also right," then his face grew somewhat serious. "Arnold, there is something that I also want to tell you. Can I use your desk chair so that I can see you better?" The boy nodded.
Pulling the seat over to the couch, Arnold was sitting across from Mr. Huynh feeling a little awkward with the way he was acting. He knew that the other was a good person so he wasn't worried. He gulped. "What do you want to tell me?"
The man took a deep breath and stared at him with kindness and respect – because that is what he deserved even at his young age.
"I want to thank you for helping me in any way possible. You helped find Mai, figure out what I really want in my life and encouraged me, as well as with my boss when you stood up to him when I couldn't," he put his hand on Arnold's left shoulder, "You are a good friend and nephew to me. And I understand what you are going through right now is not easy."
The boy looked down. "How would you know Mr. Huynh?" He didn't sound angry, just sad. It hurt the man to see him that way. He used his finger to lift Arnold's chin to face him, then removed it back to his side.
"Because I know your parents," the boy looked confused so he continued, "and I understand parent and child separation. You and Mai both have suffered this and I don't want you to suffer. But what you two also have in common is that your parents and I left our children because it was too dangerous. And I remember your parents very well. They really loved you Arnold. And if they are out there somewhere I'm sure they still do. You know that towel in the bathroom - the one with your name on it?" He nodded. "Yeah of course. My mom made me that."
Mr. Huynh smiled. "Well first I want to say I'm sorry for using it when I was drying my glasses. It was an accident."
"It's fine. I get it washed every once in a while to keep it clean anyway."
The man coughed into his elbow. "I probably should have gotten a glass of water. I forgot how dry my throat gets after I sing."
"Sorry about that. Anyway, I was going to say that I remember when your mother finished that for you. I was lying in the living room exhausted when she came in." Arnold became wide eyed and excited about hearing someone else besides his grandparents talk to him. "Why didn't I ask the boarders? They know my parents most likely. Maybe there are some memories that I don't know about."
"Your mother had just put you down to sleep. For about a month, she worked on the cloth after she would do that. She had gotten me a cool washcloth and put it on my head to help since I came home from the restaurant. We had talked about our days, my new job, and you. We shared a few laughs at the idea you would see it more as a bath toy."
Arnold arched an eyebrow, leaning back on his arms and kicking his legs. "But I was told that I used it as a blanket." The man nodded. "Yes, you did. The point is that if you need to talk to someone about this, but you don't feel comfortable talking to your grandparents, you can always come to me."
It felt as if after Mr. Huynh said that, the tension disappeared and Arnold seemed more calm and happy. He stood up and gave the man a small hug. "Thank you Mr. Huynh, I will." He stepped back and went to his desk looking at his corkboard filled with travelling pictures, maps, and even a smaller picture of his parents. "Can I tell you something though? I'll tell Grandpa and Grandma later. But you would probably find out anyway."
Now the man was the one in confusion. He too stood up and walked over behind Arnold. "Yes you can."Arnold sighed as he ran his hands over the paper he was writing earlier. Following his gaze, Mr. Huynh read some words like "parents" and "discovery" and "journal".
"Well, the reason why I ran into you by accident was so that I could work on this paper. And it's for a contest," his voice became quicker as spoke, "If I write about my favorite discovery and submit it, I could win a trip to any country on this list." He handed the list over. "As you see, San Lorenzo is on the list and if I do win, then just maybe I can find more answers. Or better yet find my parents. I'm not expecting to win. But I got to try."
His face lowered as a couple tears spilled onto the table. And all Mr. Huynh could do was to rub the boy's shoulder.
"I'm proud that you will try. Your parents would also be proud. I hope the best comes for you Arnold because you really do deserve it."
Again more tears fell, but it was only because Arnold was happy. Hearing all of the compliments, even the awkward one from Helga and the sentimental one from Mr. Huynh, made his day.
"Thank you Mr. Huynh. I appreciate it."