21. Looking For Your Heart

Looking For Your Heart

The sun was still shining with its red light spreading over the west when I dragged myself in Bane Dong Koy village. The villagers’ voice calling their pigs to come and eat their food could be heard as far as the foot of the hills, “Ee Ee, Ee Ee.” This was the same voice I heard two years ago when I was working there as a community development worker.

As soon as I set my feet in the village, many eyes turned to me with friendly greetings,

"Our brother-in-law Poy just arrived for a visit." They all greeted me in different ways, with casual language used by members of the same family who meet again after being away for some time.  Friendly laughter was heard many times with only brief intermissions. 

When I climbed the first stair step at Uncle Nhom’s house, what surprised me was the calm shown by all the family members sitting around the fireplace. They all turned their eyes to me as if I was a stranger even though I used to live in this house before. Deep in my heart, I was even thinking about asking them to accept me as another member of the family. My visit there that day was partly guided by that wish.

After looking at me for almost one minute, Uncle Yom was the first to say something. I glanced around the house and had the impression that somebody was missing. I did not ask any questions but did formally greet each family member before climbing the stairs.

Shortly after I chatted with everybody, Aunt Nhom brought dinner. Still, nobody said anything to address my worrying. Everybody ate the food with appetite. The only thing strange was that Kee Noi and Aunt Nhom, who used to get me to talk about various stories, didn’t say much that day despite the fact that we have not seen each other for two years. One would expect more chatting than usual. Instead, Aunt Nhom and Kee Noi kept very quiet, with only occasional forced smiles.

When I could no longer help it, I asked them, “Where is Nhom? Why isn’t she here for dinner? Is she still at the rice field?" I asked the question while putting rice in my mouth and watching everybody’s reaction.

I noticed Uncle Yom’s face turning immediately sad. He put his rice wad back in the serving basket, and slipped out to a corner of the kitchen to lit a cigarette. Aunt Yom also put her rice back in the basket, walked to the drinking water container, filled a glass of water and left it in front of me and went downstairs. I looked at Bak Kee Noi and was about to ask him something, but he too walked downstairs. Nobody said a single word to answer my question.

            Although I knew that my mouth and my stomach still needed some more food, I had to stop eating and pick up the dishes as I used to do at this house. After, cleaning the dishes and putting all of them at their usual locations, I walked to the kitchen’s balcony where Uncle Nhom was putting a pipe in his mouth and tried to inhale some cigarette smoke. I took a chair that was left leaning against the house’s outside wall,  sat down near him, and was about to repeat my question when I had to stop. Uncle Nhom’s cold and stern voice struck my ears and got them numb for some time.

"Nhom told us she was going to Vientiane to see you because she said Ai Phat told her to do so. But you are here now and you are asking for Nhom. So, what’s the matter?  I don’t get it.”

My face turned ultra-red. If I had a mirror to look at right then, I probably could tell how red it really was. My throat was glued with stick saliva and became dry. My whole body was shaking as if something was pushing it in all directions. At that moment, I felt that no matter what, now that I was there, I had to know what really happened. I tried to explain while swallowing with difficulty,

“Dad, I used to tell Nhom to be patient no matter what. If there was something she could not resolve by herself, she should write to me about it, or come and see me”.

 “So, Nhom did go to see you, didn’t she?”

I told him the truth, “No! Nhom didn’t come to see me."

I tried to look at Uncle Nhom's eyes which had turned red. He did not say anything but was staring at me. At that very moment, as I could tell, his eyes looked like an executioner’s eyes. I was shaking all over but had to control myself to keep my poise. We kept staring at each other for some time without blinking an eye but, in the end, Uncle Nhom turned his face toward the rice field where you could only see spotty rice plants here and there, decimated by a severe drought. Near the edge of the rice field, a couple of birds were flying from one end of the field to the other and suddenly disappeared in the bordering forest.

Uncle Nhom pulled his pipe from his mouth and, with his eyes fixed at the bamboo trees, started speaking up with a low voice.

            “Then, where is she now? Here is the first letter she wrote to me when she arrived in Vientiane. She wrote that she has met and was staying with you," Uncle Nhom said while digging a letter from his pocket and handing it to me. After reading through it, I asked him a question,

”Could you tell me why did she leave?"

Uncle Yom removed the pipe from his mouth and started telling me the story in a succinct and precise way.

"After you left, Nhom has high hope she would meet with you again someday. She herself told me that you would come back for a visit within two years. When the rice growing season arrived, everything seemed to indicate that bad luck was going to hit our villagers again. That year, nobody was able to do any regular farming because of the drought; no dry farming either because they banned forest clearing. Even if there was no ban, farming would still not have been possible because it was so dry. The following year, we were hoping that things would improve. It turned out that nothing changed much at all. So, during the past two to three years, we had to seek job somewhere else to bring in some food.

“One day, Nhom said she was going to go and see you. She wanted to have you help her find a job so she could send some money home to buy food and school supplies. Two months after she left, we got this letter that she wrote.  But since then, she didn’t write us any more letters. The only thing we got was money and some packages. We want to know where she is, what she is doing, and why we no longer hear from her. We thought you were the one that helped her find a job and that she must have been staying with you”.

Uncle Nhom and I chatted until almost mid-night before going to bed. When I lowered my head on the pillow, the images of the past suddenly emerged in my mind and wouldn’t let me sleep.  I was thinking about the events that took place when I was on assignment here working on community development and met with Nhom. She was a nice and courteous girl, the one that deep in my heart I was looking for. Eventually, love flourished between the two of us, in complete faith and full commitment. Before I went back to my home office, I promised her I would be back in two years.

By the time I woke up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. I dressed up and said good-bye to her parents. As I set foot on the bus, I thought to myself that, in the future, if I had a chance to meet with Nhom again, I would most definitely ask her about what actually happened.  I was dying to know why Nhom didn’t live up to the promises we made to each other. Or was it just part of nature, since we express words with our tongue, which is a boneless muscle? You can say one thing now and do something different later.

I felt very disappointed, tried to lean against the back of the seat, and closed my eyes. As I started getting sleepy, Nhom’s picture showed up again in my mind. I opened my eyes but my heart was still preoccupied by images of the past between Nhom and I.

I did not know how many minutes have gone by since the bus had arrived at the station. As soon as I regained full conscience, I looked outside and realized that the bus had already stopped at the northern T-2 bus station. Passengers stepped out of the bus one by one and left the station for their respective destinations.

I got up from my seat, used some left-over water in a plastic bottle to wash my face, grabbed my bag, and jumped out of the bus. I then took a Tuk-Tuk motor cycle ride to go home. The Tuk-Tuk headed toward the Nongdouang market, turned left to Nongbouathong and right to Dongpalep, continued on Nongtha road, passed Houaihong and Bane Tatmixay, and dropped me off at my home. I felt so tired that day and planned to take a full rest before going to work the following day.

While I was still sleepy, one of my friends called. I extended my arm to grab the phone. My friend asked,  

“Buddy, are you now back from your out-of-town trip?"

“I came back this morning."

“How did it go? Did you meet with your sweetheart?"

“Yes, I met with her," I replied like a drunkard.

“Are you available this evening? I was invited to a small party and they asked me to invite you as well. So, come to see me at six o'clock this evening."

"OK!"

“Don't change your mind. If you did, you won’t be able to meet a beautiful girl who just joined the club."

“OK!"

After I hang up, I looked at my watch. It was already five thirty. To tell the truth, I wasn’t looking forward to having any glasses of beer, or meeting with the beautiful girl my friend was talking about. But deep in my heart I was keen on looking for Nhom as soon as I was back in Vientiane. Once you made a promise and ended up breaking it, you will always feel frustrated and revengeful. How could she tell her parents she was staying with me? After I left her house I have never seen her again in person, not even her shadow.  This called for at least two or three rounds of explaining the next time we meet.

After taking a shower and dressing up properly, I rode my faithful bike to the scheduled appointment place. “This is where new beautiful girls show up," said my dear friend, pointing at the front of a nightclub lit with two to three light bulbs. Inside were three to four sofas and several dinner tables. The lighting was half dark half lit, but you could see faces fairly clearly. My friend and I went inside and sat on the sofa located near the wall on the right hand side. 

A young man of about 18 approached us and politely greeted us,

“Hello, gentlemen, should we start with some bottles of beer?”

My buddy said, “Bring us three bottles of beer first! And can you ask Miss Done to sit with us? My friend just came from out-of-town.”

“Yes, I can! Please wait a few seconds.”

I tracked the young man until he disappeared behind the left door. Soon afterward, he came back with a girl. My heart beat with trepidation in a very abnormal fashion.  I was secretly praying that this was not Nhom, the girl that I loved because I didn't want to see her in this night club environment. Anywhere else would be OK, but not here. Three bottles of beer were placed on the table and that girl sat down with us. The minute I saw her, I was greatly relieved because she wasn’t the girl I was after.

“She is not Done," my friend said.

“Yes! This girl is called Done.”

“Maybe I was mixed up with names."

We drank with pleasure, emptied the three bottles, ordered four more, and after that, some hors d’oeuvre. At that point, I felt a little bit drunk. I tried to chat with Done about various subjects and learned that she was from the same province as Nhom. First, I tried not to ask but at the end couldn’t help it.

“May I ask you something?"

“Yes! Please do," she replied to me.

“Do you know someone by the name of Nhom?"

“Where did you know her from?" she asked.

“Well, it doesn't matter where. Tell me first if you know Nhom”, I asked point blank.

“There is nobody by that name over here right now! But there is one who looks very much like her. Do you want to meet with her or only with Nhom?” she said half-jokingly.

“Yes! Please bring her in."

At that moment, I really felt strangely disoriented. Maybe that was due to the fatigue I inherited because of the trip I just made. I leaned against the sofa with my eyes half-shut by the power of the light beer.

“Here she is, the girl who looks like Nhom.”

“Oh! They really look alike”, I said half-drunk after turning my face to her. I was also stunned and tried to rub my eyes several times. My heart was jumping and forced me to say, "Nhom!" I might be visually a little bit disturbed then, but I did notice that her face became ashen. She left the table quickly. I tried to call her back, to no avail. I got up from the sofa and tried to follow her, leaning left and right but my friend stopped me, pulled my hand down and told me,

“If she is not interested in you, then let her go. There are plenty of beautiful girls here."

“My friend, allow me to go and talk with this girl. I really must see her."

            That night, no matter how hard I tried, I didn’t get anywhere. My friend took me home, and I sort of caught some words in the air about “mistaken identity”. I could not admit that I saw the wrong person because her face still stuck for ever in my memory.

The following day, I quitted worrying. I went back to the same night club, ordered a bottle of beer, and asked the same young man I met the night before to bring Done in. Done showed up with a big smile in her face. As soon as she sat down on the sofa, she immediately greeted me with a question,

“Last night, were you disoriented because of love or because of the beer?”

I replied to her with a question, “Could I ask for your help?”

"Please do. Just tell me how, I will be glad to help!”

“Could I meet with last night’s girl again?”

“She told me she doesn't want to see you!"

“Why?"

"I don’t know why. She only told me that she doesn't want to see you."

“I am not a policeman with the task of investigating someone. You can tell her any lies you want as long as I can see her, that’s not illegal. Please help me I; I will give you a reward."

“Oh,  my God! I have never seen such a straight-to-the-point man like you before. Yes! I will help you, but only once!"

A few minutes later, she walked back to me, slightly shaking her head. She sat down with her hands under her cheeks, gave me a disappointed look, and said,

“There are plenty of girls. Why are you only that interested in that girl?"

“You do not understand. It’s more than pure interest.”

“What is it then?"

“May I go inside that room? Since she didn’t come out to see me, can I go in to see her instead?"

"She did come out, but when she saw you from the door, she went back in.”

I didn’t care about anything else. After asking for the club owner’s permission, I walked toward the right door and turned left into an aisle surrounded by apartments. The door of the apartment to the right was wide open. I saw a girl collecting her belongings. I walked to her asked, “Excuse me! Which room is Nhom staying at?"

“There is nobody by that name over here. Try somewhere else.”

“What is your name?

“My name is Pouai."

“You don’t have to lie to me. Your name is Nhom. Why do we have to lie to each other? If there is a problem, is it not better to try to work it out?  How would things improve if we keep on lying to people and deceiving them?” That was a rather long sentence that I used. She turned her face in my direction, a face as red as a fully grown pepper.

“Nhom! Nhom! You really are Nhom!" I couldn’t help to stay quiet.

“Yes, I am Nhom. What do you want to do?” she said with an angry voice.

“Nhom, I just came back from visiting your younger brother and your parents yesterday morning. I was committed to searching for you and, once I found you, to sending you home!”

“Send me home and you will then take care of my parents and brothers and sisters, is that right? Can you do it?”

She sat down on the frame of the bed like someone without soul. Soon, her tears emerged and started running down her white cheeks. She didn’t care to wipe her tears but instead let them drop uncontrolled. She then spoke up with emotion,

“If I don’t do this job, what other job would I do? I cannot even read and write."

“There are other ways to resolve the problem," I explained.

“Are you going to find me a job? Do you have any ideas where and how? Nowadays they only hire someone with education and degrees.  Do you know what school grade I last attended?"

“But you should not try to hide from me like this"

“Why do you need to know? I’m just a bad girl.”

“If you think it’s bad, then you shouldn’t have done it!”

            “Do you know anyone on earth who enjoys doing what he/she dislikes? Do you really think I like this job? You misjudged me. If I could find a better job, why would I do what I’m doing? What would you pick, do this job, or let yourself and your loved ones die of hunger? Who would want to create bad image for himself or herself? Who on this world would want to be exposed to the sun and the rain when he/she can avoid that? Do you really think I enjoyed doing what I do, when anybody can come in and kiss me or do anything they want anytime with me? You can go and ask women if they want to have several husbands.”

These lengthy explanations filled my ears rather badly.

The temperature went down gradually. I invited Nhom to sit at the table I have booked earlier for more discussion.  I looked at Nhom with sympathy but was still eager to critique her at length. She sat with her face looking down and used her fingers to scratch the flower pictures printed on the napkin.

“I would like you to go back home," I said after a long silence.

"You think you know how to take care of me and my family, is that right?”

“If we don’t do that, are there any other jobs for you?” I asked with a louder voice than before.

“I worked for 200,000 kips to 300,000 kips a month to feed myself and my family. You know that I have a family of eight to support. You come here to drink eight to nine bottles of beer in just a few hours. Do the calculation. Nine bottles times 12,000 kips per bottle, that’s how many thousands of kips? My family doesn’t have that much income at all. If I made that much, I wouldn’t be here even if you paid me. How can you say that?” she counter-attacked me.

“Nhom, no matter what, I still love you as I did before. I will look for some funds for you to start a business,” I said instinctively.

"Yes, go ahead and give me some funds."

At the restaurant, the band was fairly loud, but I felt sad. I stared with both my eyes at Nhom's face, which was just flooded with tears. I wanted to use all ten of my fingers to dry her tears, but there were so many people around us. I was not afraid of her, but I did respect her because people are not valued based on their appearances and faces. Their moral commitments are better indices of their personalities. That night, I said good-bye to Nhom pretty late in the night, “Nhom, I’m leaving now, it’s getting late. I still love you and will continue to love you forever!”

“Good luck!” she said with a smile mixed with tears.