fever . a novel by luong minh dao - 4
f e v e r 4
a novel by LUONG MINH DAO
The sounds of a hovering helicopter echoed in all the corners of the living room. Van went to the back door and climbed the stairs to the flat roof. Without the wooden frames for the vines. the roof looked, it was ready for the landing of a helicopter. Han, a colonel of the Air Force, had promised to pick up Van' s family at the last minute.
Above the two stories house on the other side of the partition fence between the two properties, a helicopter was making circles and then hovered above the little front yard; its propeller blades blew green leaves and dust to Van " s roof. A rope ladder was lowered down from the helicopter side; its bottom steps fell behind the trees. At the gate of that house, four or five men and women, carrying shoulder bags, were trying to break in, pushing and shoving the gate noisily, a man in a white shirt was at the top of the gate ; a leg of his khaki trousers was caught at the ornamental arrow of an iron bar. The helicopter hovered more intensely. They pulled the ladder to bring up an American. The helicopter flew off, and its chopping noises faded away. Van looked to the sky .
" If they borrowed my well-prepared house to pick up that man , " Van wondered, " would I try to get in the helicopter ?"
Van was not certain about what he shoud do in that case.
The man in his torn trousers succeded in landing on the sidewalk. Swearing some rude and obscene criticisms of the Allies' withdrawal from the war, he left the gate and followed the others . Van ' s street became quieter; he heard only the dim sounds of hovering helicopters from many directions . " They are gathering the last American civilians, " Van thought, leaving the flat roof .
At the dining table, Van's father, put down his cup of coffee and looked into Van's eyes without a word; Van understood that his father was asking why Han could be so late.
" There is a great probability that Han cannot keep his promise," Van thought. " Everything can happen in this situation ."
Turning his eyes away, Van walked into the living room.
They finished packing, Van remembered, at around mid-night curfew. Their sons were sleeping in their room. The house was quiet. Van put on the dining table the handbag of his first son beside his wife's bag and his second son's backpack. It was a small handbag, and inside, they were only the two copies of Van's books and a large hardwood cross with a brass statue of a crucified philosopher. Van sat down in a chair opposite to his wife.
" Why only my books and the cross ?" Van thought .
Van put his hand inside his shirt and applied a little pressure over his stomach where he felt a little burning. His wife turned her eyes to the bags . Van could not guess her thoughts, but it no longer mattered because they had solved the crucial question.
" So we can be certain that you and our sons will leave the country tomorrow," Van said." I' m very happy ."
She was staring at the bags, motionless.
" May be I understood her, " Van thought, looking at this wife.
He took the unfinished draft of his book, Van remembered, and put it into his briefcase; then, he left his office. Ki-Et was walking towards him in the verenda in front of the offices. They met at the shadow of a tall pillar.
" How are you, my firend?" Van said .
" How are you ?"
They shook hands .
" Did you see the Chief Justice ?" Ki-Et asked .
" The Chief Justice ? No, " Van said, frowning; he avoided visiting the Chief Justice during the past several months because of their serious disagreements over some legal principles.
" I just talked to him. He said that the May-Seventh evacuation plan was aborted because it would be too late, he proposed plan B, " Ki-Et said .
" What is plan B ?"
" Sauve-Qui-Peut," Ki-Et said, half-smiling, " Did you find the way out yet ?"
" For only my wife and my sons; for me, I am not certain ."
"And your parents ?"
" It seems that they want to stay," Van said. He wanted to ask about Ki-Et s family but he kept quiet because he remembered that Ki-Et was a very cautious person; he would never let Van know his plan when the political situation and the war were not clearly settled.
" I have to go," Ki-Et said." Good luck, my friend .
" Good luck for the plan, " Van said, and they shook hands.
" The door of the guestroom opened. Van' s father stepped into the dining room; he looked pale and tired. Van moved his hands from his shirt and pulled back the chair beside him.
" What happened, father ," Van asked.
" I just had a nightmare," he said, sitting down and looking at Van. " I think that I cannot stay, I have to go."
Surprised by his father 's new decision, Van did not know how to respond .
" What happened, father ?" Van repeated his question,
" I just dreamed that they arrested me, tied my hands, and brought me back to our village in the North. They pushed me into the comminity house brightly lit with torches ."
" It is horrible , father. "
"Our old tenant-farmers surrounded me, shouting with anger. They shook their sickles, their hoes, their rakes, jumping up and down, shouting. " Pay your bloody debts, the old stubborn exploiter." It was madness ."
On his face, all the wrinkles seemed drooping, and the hollows, deeper .
"One of them pulled my hair until I fell on my knees, " he continued, closing his eyes.
" Oh. It is terrible. I am sorry , father ."
" They will take this city very soon. I have to go," after short silence, Van's father said. " I thought our family here twenty years ago to avoid the communist regime. Now, it is your turn to find the way out for me ."
Van understood his father's fear. His uncle, living in the North, had to commit suicide during the Land Reform period to escape tortures during a public trial.
" Certainly I'll do, father ," Van looked at him and said." Colonel Han yesterday phoned to me tell he will pick up us from our flat roof . That is why I asked you and Mother to stay with us during the past days ."
Van looked away and sighed. " Now, it is too late to contact my friends, " Van thought; " perhaps they already left with their own boats ."
" I will try to see some of my friends tomorrow, " Van continued after a pause, looking at the clock on the wall, and then, into his wife's eyes.
Van's wife sat still.
Van walked through the dining area into the living room and sat in the armchair next to his mother.
" The helicopter picked up the American neighbor, " he said to his mother .
" I know, " his mother said, her voice was calm.
" You do not worry, Mother ?"
" Yes, I do, " she said, smiling, " because I do not know what will happen to you if you cannot leave the country ."
The next day, Van remembered, they woke up early. His chauffeur drove them to the meeting site, the office of a foreign military advisor agency. His children and his wife were put on a bus with her sister, who worked for this office and met the qualification for evacuation of her direct family. Van followed their bus. Along the road, his children, always at the window, waved to Van and talked to each other; Van saw only his wife's hair and her shoulder, a couple of times, Van lost their views because his car had to stay behind at red lights or in a slow traffic. They went to quieter streets and reached the airport area. Outside the long fence of the residential quarter of the Air Force, about fifty women and men were sitting, lying, or wandering around in the shades of trees. Several police agents in combat uniforms and armed with M 16s were standing along the fence and at the checkpoint. The guards opened the gate for the bus. Van' s chauffeur showed to an officer at the checkpoint his identification card and pointed to the sticker on the windshield of his car, saying some words. The officer looked into the car, then, made a military salute and gestured to the guards to open the gate. They passed the quiet roads full of morning shadows of trees in the middle of houses and duplexes with bright red roofs, light brown walls, and large windows; there were no activities inside the buildings. Van heard the wheels of both the bus and his ear rolling on the asphalted surface of the road. He looked at his children quietly. They were still at the window, waving their hands occasionally and slowly. Van' s car stopped in front of the the checkpoint at the gate to the foreign military airport. Van stepped out and waved his hand to their children until the bus dissapeared behind the sharp turn of the road inside . Van went back to his seat and closed the car door.
" You do not go inside, Sir ?" the driver asked restarting the engine.
" I am not on any manifest or any list, Mr. Tu," Van siad .
" But you can go inside and wait for a vacant seat ," Tu said. " I know that some of our colleagues did that. "
" Can I do like them ? " Van said, half smiling. " I don' t know. Let 's go home, my firend ."
They went back. When the car left the first gate, a dozen of young men followed it.
" They stopped the evacuation?" asked the man with short hair and tan complexion ; he walked fast, holding the door with one hand and putting his head half-inside the car.
" What happened?"
" Nothing. We go home," Van said.
" Are you insulting us?" the man said; his face became feverish-red, and his eyes opened widely. " We are waiting here for two days just for the occasion to break in, and they shot at us when we tried, and you, you go home. " He punched at the door, then, stood inside. " You are crazy."
On the road home, Van and the driver did not exchange a word. When Van walked into his house, he did not feel his steps on the floor and had the feeling that he was catching a cold. The house was too bright ant too quiet. Van missed the laughter of his children.
" I do not know who gave me the right to send you away," Van thought, " but I know without doubt that I do not have the right to keep you here ."
Van looked at his mother, she turned her head, looked at him, and smiled.
" Mother, do you remenber Ho-Ly, one of my colleagues ?"
" Yes. He always answered questions with modest bush ?"
" Yes. He left a week ago without his wife. She injured her back in a tennis game, and she is still staying in the hospital. My friends commented noisily on his decision. How do you think ?"
" In principle, " Van's mother said without hesistation." ... No, no ... Don't raise this question," she continued after a sudden pause.
" I understand what you meant, but we are talking about Ho-Ly," Van half-laughed. " We cannot have a right judgment if we isolate principles from real circumstances; besides in our present situation, I cannot have any judgments because I do not know which principles shoud be our guides ."
Van stood up.
" How is your back, Mother ?" he said insted of posing aniother question that passed his mind.
" It still hurts when I move around," he said .
" Would you like a cup of tea ?'
" Yes, I would ".
Van walked to the dining area and stood at the table, looking at his father .
" Make tea for all of us, " his father said before Van ask him.
Van went to the small room beside the dining room where they usually kept food before serving. They have coffee, tea, and other items in the cupboard along the walls. He took out his favorite green tea container and a large pot.
Van parked his car, he remebered. The suburban street was narrow and bright in the early afternoon. Van walked to the gate, it was half closed. Van pressed the bell button and waited, but no one answered. Van looked into the large yard in front of the house. Ki-Et and his son were loading their station wagon with shoulder bags. Van stepped back and pushed the button again. Van heard steps on the gavel way, then, Ki-Et appeared at the gate. He stepped out, closed the gate behind him, and looked at Van .
" Hello, " Van said .
" Hello," Ki-Et said, hesistating.
" I come", Van said, " to ask you if someone who has boat with two or three vacant seata for either three of us or only my parents ."
" No, we do not. We are plaining to go to a safer place to keep away from rocket bombardment at the last minute."
" Do you want to go if I can find room for us ?"
" Yes, three of us ."
" Let me go to see Mr. Bao. I hope that he can help us
Van talked to Bao not along ago; and when he asked about leaving the country, Bao said that he could never leave his friend behind. Van could think of neither names of his other friends and acquaintances nor their addresses. He understood that he was isolated and lonely during the past months; the juxtaposition of the feverish desire for escape and the fear of punishment for post abandonment alienated friends and colleagues from each other .
" I ' ll be back if I have goods news."
Van left for the headquarters of the Union of Workers at the central area of the city. The streets activities changed drastically. Women, men, and children, carrying shoulder bags, walked hastily in all directions. Van passed by the Navy base. A large crowd, gathered in front of the fence, moving noisily back and forth, tried to reach the gate, which was under the guard of several agents of military police armed with clubs and rifles.
" It is another way out of the country," Van thought.
Close to the Navy base, another crowd was crossing the bridge to the south bank of the river. They walked, ran, and made noises -- a strange type of noises, chaotic and forceful. Van thought that he did not have the courage to lay his feet on that bridge just for the hope of a place to stand on a certain boat. Empty cars were left on the street. Far away, cargo ships and boats anchored along the riverbank, and people crowded the docks. Van slowly left that street for the center of the city. The gate to the Union Office was open. Van drove his car inside and parked it in front of the annex building. Hen ran up the stair in the main building to the office of the president. The waiting room and the office were empty. Van went down the stairs and met a secretary who was burning papers in a iron barrel.
" O! Mr. Van , " he said.
" You remembered me ?" Van asked .
" Yes. You usually came here to talk about your articles in our magazines ."
" Yes. Where is the president ?"
" He withdrew into the safety zone, just half an hour ago".
" And you ?"
" I cannot go because my family too large."
" Did he laeve any message for me ?"
" No."
Leaving the Union Headqueter, Van saw a helicopter hovering over the flat roof of the tall buiding on the other side of the street. All its window curtains were pulled up, and its front yard was empty. Van missed the amusing scene of some American military guards standing in the burning sun at the checkpoint beside evaporating blocks of ice.
Van brought the tea set to the living room, his father followed him. Van sat in the sofa beside his mother, and his father, in a armchair. They drank tea quietly, Van left it was difficult to restart their conversation. It was dark outside. Th hovering of helicopter echoed dimly from all directions.
Suddenly, the telephone rang. Van put down his cup, moved a little choser to the end table, and picked up the receiver.
" Hello." Van said .
" Hello Van" , his cousin said at the other end of the line.
" Yes. Where aer you ? " Van asked.
" At home," his cousin said.
" Who is that ?" Van's mother asked.
"Our ships will be move out very soom, " Van ' s cousin said.
" Bat, " Van answered his mother.
"No. I do not want him to save our lives. No, " Van's mother said hastily.
Van could not see his mother's face, but he heard unmistakably half-angry and half-desperate voice.
" We are preparing to go the Navy Headquarters, " his cousin said at the end of the line.
In just a few seconds, Van understood that neither his father nor he could go with his cousin, he no longer needed to know whether his cousin wanted to pick them up or he just called to say goodbye.
" I have to go," his cousin said.
" Good luck," Van said. " Goodbye."
Van heard the sound of the cup drop on the saucer. He looked at his father. Bending little forwards, he was staring at Van; Van looked down to avoid his father's eyes. Tea had overflowed the saucer and was running to the edge of the table, and then it was dropping down the floor.
Van hung up the receiver. Feeling lightheaded, Van was suprised that the almost-forgotten disagreement between the parents of the two families three decades ago and the never verbally expressed bonds between his parents and him could impose suddenly and unexpectedly on them a solution for their critical situation.
" It happened un just a transitory moment, " Van thought, " the moment that was so fleeting that no one could think of protest or revolt, and once the decision was made, the maker could not step back and had no reason for regretting but facing the consequences with loneliness."
Van stood up and took away his father 's cup; he returned with a new one and a sponge. He blotted the table and served tea. He lit his father's cigarette, then, he sat down and brought his cup to his lips.
Van walked on the side of the road to avoid puddles of water from last night's rain. Th street was quiet. Van heard his steps and occasionally his breathing. He crossed the road; he saw a body half on the sidewalk and half in the gutter about thirty feet away. When he reached the sidewalk, he looked away, noticing that he did not see the head of the body and could not be certain about its clothing except some stains of blood. The morning light, the color of the road surface, and the reflection of the treetops in the water puddles could passed him. Van could not understand their talk, but, listening to the woman's voice, he knew that they came from the North.
Two days before, Van remembered, Han did not come. The radio announced that the last helipcoter with the last twelve American marines had left the city at midnight. Van turned off the light on the flat roof after his parents went to bed. He stayed in the living
room, drinking his cold tea and smoked cigarettes. The house was very quiet, and Van sat immobile until the bell rang. Viet waited at the gate. Van opened the gate for his friend. Viet walkd in; his white shirt soiled, and his hair, tangled.
" I left the bus on the street, " Viet said.
" What?" Van asked; " The bus ? Whose bus ?"
" Yes, the bus. The green bus of the Allies ."
" Please go inside, " Van said and closed the gate.
They went to the living room.
" You look terrible, " Van said. " Let me make something for you, coffee or
chocolate ?"
" Coffee, please, " Viet said, sitting down in an armchair.
Van went to the small room and came back with two cups of instant coffee. He sat down.
" Why do you have the bus ?" Van asked.
" When I was wandering on the street, " Viet answered, " not really looking but only hoping for a way out, a green bus stopped and opened the door for me. I stepped in, and the driver closed the door, gestured to me to take the seat behind him. He drove the bus around and picked up some more men on the street. Then the bus went into a villa where gathered about thirty persons of various ages. The driver told us that they needed a bus driver. Though I never drove large cars, I volunteered. I drove a bus with five passengers, following his bus. We drove around the city and picked up about thirty more persons. Then, we went to an Air Base, and stopped at the landing platform for helicopters; several cars made a circle around the platform, their headlights were on. The bus driver, now armed with an M 16, told me to get out of the buses and to lie down, face on the ground, and not to look up ."
Viet sipped his coffee, then, he continued, and Van listened quietly.
" The passengers left the bus and waited. A Chinook landed noisily. They boarded the helicopter, and it left the platform to give room for another one. When it touched the platform, I saw a dozen of American marines, armed with rifles, rise from the trench around the platform. I lowered my head down until the helicopter left. I sat on the moist grass and waited. The noises of helicopters gradually died out. Fifteen minutes later, I stood up, nothing happened except the car engines were still running, and the heads lights were focusing to the empty platform. I was left behind. I came here with their bus. They left me behind ."
" I think that the end is coming, " Viet said after swearing.
" The end of the war ?" Van said; " Yes, they are moving into our city without any serious resistance ."
Van sighed. The street was too empty. He saw the tower of the main cathredal at the end of his view and could not guess that it would take how long to reach the main street where he used to have dinner in some restaurants and cafés with his family and his friends.
" Perhaps, " Van thought," I will never meet them in my favorite cafés again."
Van continued walking and avoiding puddles on the sidewalks. He did not see any military commander car or Molotova truck passing by. The streets were quiet; there was no sign of the occupation by the communist forces.
Yesterday morning, Van remebered, after driving his parents to the tall building of his friend in a commercial area to shelter from rocket bombardment, he drove around some
streets. The city was already abandoned. The noises of hammer breaking doors echoed in all comers of residential and administrative areas. White papers and documents spilled on the roads. Leaving uninhabited houses and unoccupied offices, men and women scattered in all directions, carrying with them stolen furniture and office instruments. On the grass on the sidewalks in some residential areas, they displayed several green military uniforms of the South's soldiers, carefully folded, beside well-polished combat boots; first, Van tried to interpret that gesture, then, he understood that he never could understand the owners of those things.
On the way to his house, Van saw a group of marines withdrawing to the center of the city. When he went close his house, Van saw a tank with white flag on its antenna running slowly in the street from the dirction of the international airport. Standing in its turret, a soldier was raising up both of his arms, having the receiver of his radio in one hand. Van drove close to the tank.
" What happened?" Van asked the soldier.
" We lost." The soldier answered. " We are ordered to put down our weapons ."
A jeep followed the tank. Inside, there was an officer and three soldiers, wearing white bands around their heads; like dead slodiers, they were stiff, and their face, inexpressive.
" The last Wednesday of a regime ," Van thought
Three blocks away from the main boulevard, Van crossedth street to avoid passing by th City Courthouse .
" Why?" he thought but did not have the answer.
Two soldiers, armed with AK 47's, were standing at the closed gate. Inside, a black robe was hanging on the telephone cable above the empty yard. Van turned his eyes away spontaneously.
" Someone threw it through a window with anger, " Van thought, "or just with a cynical joke ".
There was no sign of any activity in the building.
Van looked down and walked faster. When he reached the intersection, Van heard the noises coming from the main boulevard, they were very different from the noises that Van had heard on a Thursday. Van had the feeling that he was approaching a huge marketplace in the open-air. Thinking that it could be a meeting to welcome the new owner of the city, Van slowed his steps down with the hope that he could turn around when it was neccesary.
There were no cars on the roads. People crowded both sides of the streets, moving up and down, questioning, talking, and calling each other. In the middle of that crowd, some men and women displayed their belongings on the sidewalks, from watches and jewls to silvewares and crystal vases, on some pieces of canvas. Some passers-by stopped and looked at the displayed items, then, continued their walks
" Van" , somebody called Van from the other side of the street. " Van ".
Van turned his head and saw Han in blue jeans and a white shirt crossing the street. Van walked towards him and they met in the middle of the road, they shook hands.
" I am very sorry that I couldn't keep my promise, " Han said, hugging Van. " I hoped that you found a way out, but, we are here."
"It' s alright." Van said and smiles. " Let's go into a café.
They went into a café at the corner of the main boulevard and ordered coffee and pâtés. The café was as crowded and noisy as the street; Van saw some faces he never met before.
" It's quite absurb, " Han said." I already started my helicopter and was about to fly to your house. Then, I thought that it was more pratical to pick up my son and my wife first; I went down and took my jeep home, then when I came back with my family less than ten minutes later, my chopper had gone. "
" Everything could happen, " Van though. " I am sorry," he said.
Van took a sip of coffee and looked at Han. He tried but failed to imagine the responses of Han's family when they faced that situation. He could not find other words to express his worry about them.
" Perhaps, " Van thought, " I am struck heavily by the feeling that the worse thing will occur without warning."
" I do not know what would happen if I went to your house first, " Han said, " and I do not know why I did not take the chopper to my house, just some streets away. I do not know. I feel guilty."
" I understand you," Van said, " Please don't feel so. I am happy that you did think of me at the last minutes ."
" Is it ironic that a Commander of Air Transportation could not fly away ?" Han said, half-laughing.
They ate their pâtés and drank their coffee.
" Let's go outside," Van said, putting money on the table, and they left the café.
When Van stepped on the sidewalk, he had the feeling that they already closed the city and would deprived him of freedom of movement in any moment; the situation was new, no one could know what could happen the next minutes. He understood why he came there to wander aimlessly with the others.
luong minh dao