16. The Look of the Eyes

The Look of the Eyes

Champee rode his old bicycle from one street to another as advised by Aunt Chamleune, whom many people called "The aunt who knows everything". If there was anybody planning to sell his/her house anywhere in town, she would know. Champee pedaled and raised his right arm to use his sleeves to wipe his sweat that was running almost like rainwater in a gutter. April was a hot month in Vientiane. He went through every corner, but anywhere he went, people refused to tell him the truth for some unknown reasons.  All those he talked to would only looked at him with their eyes half-open.

“I’ve heard that you are going to sell your house. Is that true?" asked Champee.

"No! That’s not true" each house owner would tell him, staring at him from top to bottom.

Champee kept on riding his old bicycle despite perspiring heavily, with weakened legs, and dying to stop for a rest.  He moved forward, quietly complaining,

“I don’t get it. She made us believe the information she had was very reliable, but all the home owners I contacted so far said they were not selling. Could Aunt Chamleune be lying? That’s impossible! She looked very trustable. How could that be?”

Champee rode back home to check once more with Aunt Chamleune. He saw many things, including sedans and Mercedes cars running along the streets at high speed. But Champee had only one thought in mind -- rich people have to work hard and fast to keep increasing their wealth. But many poor people also work hard although they will never become rich because of their birth-given fate. Those folks were born to serve out the bad deeds they committed during their previous lives, as the elders used to say. Champee continued to ride forward and smiled to himself for reaching that type of conclusion.

When he approached the red light at Sihom Square, he was frightened because a car ran behind him at great speed and blew loud horn sounds. The car passed him, hit an older bicycle rider and threw him to the ground. The driver then stepped heavily on the brakes, almost overturning his car. As soon as he stopped, the driver opened the door and walked toward the old man and pointed his fingers at him.

"Why didn’t you pay attention when riding your bicycle? If there is a dent on my car, will you be able to pay me?”

"I was riding my bicycle near the edge of the street. You are the one who swayed toward this side of the road."

"Do not argue with me. You rode an old bicycle. You are not very smart!"

The car driver then took off at high seeped. Champee rushed toward the old man, laid his bicycle on the street, lifted the old man’s shoulders, and helped him stand up. He asked,

"How are you doing? Are you hurt? Should I take you to the hospital?"

“That’s OK, nephew. I am not hurt."

“But you need to go to the hospital and get physical exam."

“That’s all right. I am not hurt at all. Thank you for your kindness and willingness to help. I have lived in this city for more than 8 to 9 years; you are the only one I run into that has such a great heart. Keep your good heart up!"

The old man then grabbed his bicycle and rode away. Champee was left by himself, thinking about what the old man said.  He followed his usual route and disappeared behind the city wall. 

Champee was still thinking about the house he wanted to buy. Even if he had more than twenty ounces of gold, which should be enough to buy two houses, he couldn’t even find one for sale.

“Aunt Chamleune, did you lie to me? When I asked the owners of the houses, they all looked at me and said there is none for sale."

"Champee, why would I lie to you? They told me they wanted to sell."

Champee tried to picture in his mind all the places he went to. Nowhere did they talk arrogantly or swore at him in any way. But he did notice one thing and that was the look they all had when they talked to him. It was not any different than the look the king of animals have for a small rabbit, the look billionaires have for their servants, or the look winners have for losers. Whenever he saw those eyes, he felt like an arrow was piercing his heart and inflicted great pain.

Champee sat down and started doing some deep thinking, with his two hands on his cheeks and looking far to the horizon. He let his eyes and thought wander around freely but the desire to own a house was still lingering.  He was thinking and thinking. What else could he do when he didn’t get the right answer, except for those sneering looks from half eyes and even loud laughing?

In the morning of the next day, Champee took the courage to go and seek the advice of his uncle --a policemen lieutenant-colonel. He was hoping his uncle might be able to help. He left his bicycle leaning against the concrete fence and rang the bell. When he got in, his uncle asked,"

"Did you find a house for sale yet?"

"No, not yet!"

"What's wrong? I thought you had enough money to buy one? Did you sell your gold?”

“No, I still have the 20 ounces of gold in my pocket! But when I went anywhere Aunt Chamleune told me to, they all said they had nothing to sell.

"Why didn't you add that you have money to buy the house?”

"I did tell them all that, but they all shook their heads negatively."

"That’s OK. Let me take you with me.”

Champee took a bath, dressed up elegantly and stepped in his uncle’s four-door pick-up. Ten minutes later, Champee and his uncle arrived at the front of a villa. The villa’s owner quickly came out to greet them with respect.

"Good morning, Chief! What brought you in so early?"

“I have some business to talk about with you."

"Please come in."

It was the first time that Champee was sitting on a nice sofa in a big and impressive living room. After the drinks were served, the house owner asked,

"Take it easy! If you have anything to say, please do so!"

"I have heard that you were going to sell your house. Is it a true?"

"Yes! I wanted to sell but there was no buyer!

"If you can find a buyer, how much would you sell it for?"

"I was thinking for about 20 ounces of gold."

"Is that not too expensive? Can you go for eleven ounces to split up the cost?"

“If you are really interested in buying, let’s make it sixteen ounces!"

"I would rather leave it at eleven."

"In that case, please give us twelve. Are you buying the house for somebody?”

“I’m not buying. He is,” the uncle said, pointing his finger at Champee."

“Who is he?"

“My nephew."

The couple looked at each other with slightly pale en faces. After saying good-bye to the police lieutenant-colonel, the couple got together to talk. The husband was the first to say,

"If we sold our house yesterday to the young man that came with the Colonel, we would have got twenty ounces of gold. We were just out of luck."

He shook his head slowly and took his wife in.