With Virgie, the connection was palpable. Something rediscovered that was very real. Something as close to a welcome as she could get. Leilani laughed in delight and Virgie laughed, too.
Leilani said, “Me, the bratty grouch and you, that quiet little girl who everybody liked.”
“A brat, yes, but not a grouch. And you knew I liked you the best.”
“I did know that. But why me? I wasn’t exactly sweet-tempered and easy to like.”
“Because … you liked contradicting everyone. I couldn’t do that.”
“Just an act. I was the youngest child. I had to do something to be seen and heard. But how did you know I was here?”
“I saw you—that’s how—the other day at the shopping mall next to your hotel. There’s a supermarket in that mall. It’s huge. That’s where I shop for groceries. It has everything. You and I stared at each other for a moment. I thought you recognized me, too, but you seemed preoccupied. You were holding hands with a good-looking American. That would distract me, too.”
“My husband, Justin.”
“Ah. I guessed that. I chanced calling the hotel by the mall. They didn’t recognize your name at first but I told them you’re married to an American whose name I can’t recall. Lucky, no other Americans are at the hotel.”
“I’m awfully glad you contacted me. I’m feeling so lost in this country. I think it’ll do me good to see you.”
Virgie said, “Great. I’m happy to help and you can tell me what it’s like living in a big, rich country.”
They agreed to meet the following afternoon at a café in the mall Justin and Leilani had been to—a café that was part of chain with branches all over the world.
Recognizing Virgie now as the child she once knew should be fairly easy. People could change in so many ways but the eyes of an adult would always reflect the child in him, not so much in the shape, as in the expression. She remembered Virgie’s clear curious eyes quite well.
In the café, Leilani scanned the faces at the tables as she and Justin stood at the entrance, looking for an empty place. Virgie was not there yet. They found a table not far from the entrance and waited to order their coffee drinks until she arrived.
Ten minutes later, a young woman, barely five feet tall, shapely, with shiny black hair and slanting eyes, came in with a little girl in tow. “Virgie,” Leilani thought. Virgie stopped for a second, her gaze sweeping across the room until she spotted them. She broke into a wide smile and waved.
Justin and Leilani got up as Virgie approached. Leilani greeted her with a hug that surprised Virgie. She hesitated for a moment before she placed her arms around Leilani.
Leilani said, “God, is this really you? You’re tiny.” She laughed, an excited, mirthful laugh.
They broke apart and stood gazing at each other.
Virgie said, “Yes, but I need to lose a few pounds. And you’re … tall.” She matched Leilani’s mirthful laugh. “How could you be? We were about the same size.”
Leilani said, “My father was tall, compared to most Costa Morans. Back home in California, I’m about average.” She turned to Justin before Virgie could answer. “My husband, Justin Halverson.”
Justin and Virgie shook hands. Justin said, “I’m enchanted to meet you, Virgie, and look forward to getting to know you better.”
“Yes, me, too,” Virgie said in the soft shy voice Leilani remembered from childhood. Virgie smiled, but she averted her gaze, casting it downward.
She introduced her daughter before they sat down. She said, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Nina along. She’s well-behaved and content to work on her coloring books.” Virgie unhooked the pink backpack off Nina’s shoulders,
Leilani said, “No Nana?”
“No. Nobody can take care of her as well as I do. She stays with my mother when I have to go somewhere without her.”
The country had been a child-centered society and, yet, among the well-to-do, children were often relegated to the care of a nanny, like Myrna who grew much closer to her nanny than her mother. But she and Virgie were different. Their mothers believed they should care for their children, a fact that drew her and Virgie close together.
Justin remained standing. He said, “I’m taking orders for drinks.”
He took their orders and went to the counter to give them to a woman behind a cash register.
Leilani learned that Virgie had a college degree but preferred being a housewife and mother instead of a career woman. She told Virgie her weekdays were usually spent in an office listening to other people’s problems.
Justin returned with a tray of coffee drinks for the adults and milk for the little girl.
He said as he took a seat, “I’m quite impressed by your mall. It’s like a little city. It has everything.”
Virgie chuckled. “Some people practically live here, if you know what I mean. They do go home to sleep. It’s one of the few places that have air-conditioning so shops, game zones, cafés—everything—are packed when it gets hot or muggy.”
Leilani said, “This mall looks new. I know it wasn’t here when I lived here.”
“Ten years. That was when foreign developers came. They wanted to tear down centuries-old buildings to put up hotels and more malls but people demonstrated against it for weeks. So now, for every new modernization project, at least one old structure has to be renovated.”
“So what else is different from twenty years ago?”
“Roads. More of them and wider, going into the mountains. We used to have to walk to visit relatives in the rural areas. It took hours. Now, it’s an hour and a half by bus, an hour by car.”
“I remember your father took you mountain-climbing.”
“I still go, but not as much, because I have a child to take care of. But I used to go quite often. I love it. It’s how I’ve made friends. I met my husband in one of those climbs.”
Justin said, “I’m impressed. I imagine you need to be strong to do it. And brave.”
Leilani said, “And not afraid of heights.”
Virgie looked at Justin and Leilani as if she found their remarks surprising, even naive. “I never thought of those things. I started to do it and kept on going. I guess it’s in my blood. Our civilization is as old as yours, but we’re tied to nature.”
Leilani said, “I think I know what you mean. Nature around here is beautiful, but it can also be terrible. So you learn to respect it because when it’s angry, you’re helpless.”
“That’s part of it, but only a part. Take me, for instance. I’ve always been in the mountains because my father’s family lives there. Before paved roads and highways, we used to visit my father’s parents every summer and had to walk half a day to get there. So, mountain climbing is an extension of who I’ve always been.”
Leilani felt a pang of envy. This was the country she was born in and, yet, she knew so little about it. Virgie, that shy girl who had been as carefree and ignorant as she was, had grown to know it and to feel it in her bones.
Leilani said, “I envy you, Virgie. You’re truly a child of this country. You make me miss it. I wish I had more of it in me.”
Before they parted, Virgie invited them to luncheon at her house the coming Sunday. “I’ll make a little feast of my favorite native dishes. It’s best to eat them in the day because I guarantee you’ll want to try them all. I don’t want to boast, but I’m a great cook. Anyway, with a luncheon, you won’t be going to bed on a heavy stomach. You’ll also want to see where I live. You’ll know what I mean about being tied to nature.”
*****
On the fifth day, Bernie finally called Leilani. He said, “I’m sorry I could not call earlier. The cell phone does not work when you get closer to the mountains.”
“Did you find someone?”
“Yes. I have a man who can pass for your father. He’s not as thin, but maybe, in another two weeks, Dr. Torres will put on more weight. You have to give me
some money for his food.”
“I can do that. How’s my father?”
“He sleeps a lot. He reads. They did not have many books in prison. I borrowed a few books in the library for him.”
“Thank you for doing that. He was a voracious reader. Anything else that’s new?”
“I have your father’s passport. But I have to keep it. We need it to get the tourist visa. Have you bought his ticket already?”
“No. I was waiting for you.”
“With the travel agency’s help, we will have the tourist visa in about a week. After that, you can leave. I do not want to keep your father much longer. I told General Huang, I can hide him for only two more weeks after you get here.”
“All right. We can get his plane tickets today. Should we meet so I can give you some money?”
“No. I still have some from what General Huang paid me. You can reimburse me later.”
“But aren’t your expenses covered by the $15,000 we’re paying you?”
“Not your father’s food. He’s eating a lot and I’ll soon run out of money for food. He says he wants to be stronger for when you two meet.”
“When will that be?”
“I hope his papers will be ready in two weeks. If not, you have to take him, find a small hotel in the mountains where you can hide him until you leave.”
“What? Why didn’t you say so earlier? We could have planned for it.”
“I am sorry, ma’am. I told General Huang I can keep him two more weeks, that is all. He should have told you.”
When she hung up, Leilani said to Justin, “Well, that was something I didn’t expect.”
“What did he say?”
“That if we don’t leave in two weeks, we’ll have to find some out of the way place to hide my father until all his papers are ready. Somewhere in the mountains.”
“That’s a bit underhanded to sneak that on us.”
“Yeah, Bernie puzzles me. He’s acting like he’s always in want of money, but if he charged the General the same amount to get him out of the country, he should be well-off for at least three years, without bothering to work. Those dollars go a very long way here.”
Justin said, “There’s something a bit shady about him. He’s shifty-eyed, like General Huang. Can’t look at you straight. But, he leaves us no choice. We’ll go online, see what we can get.”
XXI. Acceptance
Shortly before noon on the eighth day of their stay, Justin and Leilani took a cab to Virgie’s house. After less than fifteen minutes careening through a crowded urban sprawl, the cab wound through a forest of trees that grew denser with each additional kilometer. It stopped in front of a two-story house of aged wood with windows that looked like small shoji screens, their small panes threaded through thin square wooden grills. The unpainted house blended with the color of trunks of trees that surrounded it. The cab driver said it was the house they were looking for.
A slim, wiry man, a little taller than Bernie, let them in. He said he was Wayne, Virgie’s husband. He led them into a living room with wide-open windows, furnished with a wide coffee table of dark wood and a sofa and chairs of cane and the same dark wood. Cushions set on their ends, arranged like an accordion, graced the back of the sofa. A mélange of savory aromas, dominated by frying garlic, infused the air. Three men stood by the window, talking, bottles of beer in hand.
Wayne introduced Justin and Leilani to the men, two of whom were Virgie’s brothers and the other the husband of her sister. They had been talking about something in their native language, and on Wayne’s request, shifted to English.
A few minutes later, Virgie came into the living room. She greeted Justin and Leilani and apologized for not having been there to welcome them earlier. She talked to them for a couple of minutes, told everyone luncheon was going to be served in the backyard, and returned to the kitchen to finish preparations. Leilani and Justin were left with the host and the other three men.
She said to Wayne, “Nice weather.”
He smiled and nodded.
“Is it always like this up here?”
He smiled, nodded again, and turned to listen to one of the brothers who was telling a story. Virgie’s relatives switched back to the native language and carried on their conversation as if nobody else was around. Wayne smiled a lot, but talked very little. Justin and Leilani stood next to him.
She tried listening to the story, but after a few minutes, she ambled away from the men and poked into a magazine on the coffee table. She picked it up and sat on the sofa to read it. A couple of minutes later, Justin joined her. He shrugged at the amused question in her eyes.
He said, in a low voice, “Do you understand what they’re talking about?”
“I understand the language. They’re talking about some incident that happened to one of the men. I guess they either don’t want to share it with us or they feel uncomfortable speaking to us in English.”
“I have to admit I had a little trouble understanding them when we were introduced to each other although they seem to know English well enough.”
“It takes getting used to the local accent and the local patois.”
“The … what?”
“Patois. Dialect. In this case, the way English is spoken here. I’m amazed at myself that I still remember it. It includes local words that have been anglicized.”
“Oh. Can I learn it?”
“I doubt it. But, yeah, maybe. If you live here long enough.” Leilani handed Justin the magazine. “Here, entertain yourself with this and I’ll go see what Virgie is up to in the kitchen.”
“No, stay. Sit with me and let’s quietly enjoy our beer and soda, look like the cool Americans that they think we are.”
She chuckled. “Right. More like dumb Americans.”
Leilani frowned at her own remark. She was American, but not like Justin was American. The difference between them did not come from skin color. And certainly not from how she spoke. So what was she? Not totally American, and yet not Costa Moran. Some kind of hybrid, she thought. A mutation. A mongrel. The notion startled her, but she didn’t find it repugnant.
About a half hour later Virgie emerged from the kitchen, balancing a large platter on both hands. Behind her walked three other women, each one carrying dishes, one in a large deep bowl, and the other two in shallower ones.
“Chow time,” Wayne said, waving an arm for everyone to follow the women out of the house.
In the backyard, under a canopy of trees, a long table covered with colorful, embroidered tablecloths had been set for ten places. Along the center, toward one end of the table were three plastic-wrapped dishes that Leilani recognized as various kinds of sticky rice cakes.
The four women placed the dishes somewhere in the center of the table. Virgie set the large platter right in the middle, a place that marked it as the main attraction of the meal. It contained a dish Leilani remembered well—roast pork with shiny, crispy golden brown skin.
Virgie introduced the three women—one of them her sister—as wives of the three male guests. They each made and brought the sweet rice cakes, and helped prepare the savory dishes.
She asked her sister to sit at the head of the table across from Wayne, and she took the seat between Justin and Leilani. She wanted to explain to her American guests each of the dishes she was serving.
There it is again, Leilani thought. Virgie had given her a label that marked her as a foreigner, not one of “them.” You are a foreigner, she told herself. Still, the label irked her and she interrupted Virgie, whose finger was poised on a dish she was about to describe.
“I do know what these dishes are,” she said.
“Oh, okay,” Virgie said.
She turned toward Justin and pointed to the dishes, one after another, naming the ingredients in each. “Roast pork, the best part about it is the crispy skin. Oxtail stew in a peanut sauce with beans, eggplant, and chunks of banana blossoms. Raw fish—ver
y fresh, still alive when we chopped its head of—in coconut cream and juice of a native citrus. Grilled oysters gathered off the coast, south of the city.”
Dishes were passed around in the midst of loud talk, most of it in the native language. Everyone took a serving of each dish, heaped it on a mound of rice, one sauce running into another, until servings of all dishes crowded every plate.
The talk died down to an occasional remark about how delicious various dishes were. Wayne kept everyone supplied with beer and soft drinks. He went around several times offering everyone a can of soda or a bottle of beer.
Justin couldn’t remember the names of dishes and didn’t always know what he was chewing and swallowing, but he assured Virgie it was delicious. Everyone appeared to savor every bite and, by the time beer bottles were empty, only morsels of rice and streaks of sauces remained on plates.
Virgie’s male relatives seemed more relaxed, as they resumed talking in more subdued tones. Their wives collected empty plates and took them back to the kitchen.
Leilani sat back on her chair and asked about Virgie’s daughter, Nina.
Virgie said, “With her grandmother. Adult gatherings are too much for her. She has other kids to play with at Mamá’s. You—are you still feeling strange being back in your birthplace?”
“Less strange. This place, the luncheon and the food, you—everything brings back memories. I didn’t expect that, though. I used to live in the heart of the city, and never came to these areas.”
Virgie said, “Your father was an important man, who had to live close by the president to attend to him.”
“You knew that?”
“Not when you were still here. Later, when your family and many other rich families had fled the country. Adults talked about the assassination plot for weeks and we, kids, heard their stories.”
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