House Without Walls

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House Without Walls Page 3

by Russell


  but

  I miss my family;

  I miss my home

  already.

  Can I ever go back?

  My eyes are drowning, like the waves

  rolling in,

  flooding,

  then spilling

  down.

  “I want to go home,” Dee Dee says quietly.

  I can’t comfort him.

  I would burst out wailing

  if I just said a word.

  21 | A GOOD LUCK SIGN

  Someone on the deck cries,

  “Look—some big fish are jumping!”

  “Where?” the silent people awake, as if

  retreating from their homesickness.

  “Wait—they will jump again.”

  We wait.

  “There! See!”

  We applaud

  as we see two big gray creatures

  leap up,

  like gleaming silvery arches

  against the blue sky.

  Their bodies throw droplets of white spray

  into the air,

  and then they plunge back into the water

  with a big splash.

  We forget the sadness

  and look forward to seeing them jump up

  again.

  Dee Dee asks,

  “What kind of fish are they?”

  A boy next to us replies,

  “They are sharks.”

  A city-looking person corrects him in Vietnamese,

  declaring,

  “No, they are not sharks, Nam.”

  Another chimes in, “Maybe they are whales.”

  A sailor with rotten teeth says,

  “They are dolphins.

  A sign of good luck.”

  “How?” we ask.

  “They are following us,” the sailor says.

  “They will bring us luck.”

  A sign of hope,

  like a colorful rainbow

  arching across the sky

  after a rain.

  22 | PIRATES

  Dee Dee and Nam, who can speak Cantonese,

  become friends.

  They play pirates.

  Dee Dee says to me,

  “We are pirates, and you are the oarsman.”

  He puts one hand over his eye,

  like pirates we saw in a comic book

  with a patch covering an eye.

  They stick out two fingers

  as guns,

  and they squeeze among the tightly packed adults

  who are assembled in small groups

  and declare that they will go to

  whatever country will take them.

  I wave both arms back and forth

  like an oarsman does.

  Several kids join us in our pirate play.

  Dee Dee tells them to cover one eye,

  and they all

  chase one another on the deck,

  until someone shouts,

  “Pirates! Go back down!

  Pirates!”

  Dee Dee and Nam laugh,

  “They are afraid of us.

  They think we are—”

  Someone screams and cries out shrilly in terror,

  “Pirates! Pirates!”

  23 | THE REAL PIRATES

  A small fishing boat containing several men

  is speeding toward us.

  They hold up axes in the air and yell menacingly.

  I grab Dee Dee’s arm

  while Nam’s baba hurries him back to the cabin below.

  Other parents call their children’s names.

  Suddenly, the deck looks like

  a trampled anthill,

  with people scurrying toward the steps.

  The captain asks all the men,

  “Should we fight?

  We have long knives, axes, and hammers in my cabin.

  We will die for sure if we don’t fight.”

  Many men, including Nam’s baba, shout,

  “Fight! Fight to the death!”

  They all rush to the front of the deck

  to go face-to-face with the approaching pirates.

  Our boat tilts as the force of so many people

  suddenly moving forward

  makes the weight on the deck uneven.

  Someone shouts from the top of the steps

  to those of us below,

  “Move toward the back of the cabin

  to balance the weight!”

  No one listens.

  Several old ladies kneel on the floor,

  crying and praying

  in Cantonese and Vietnamese.

  One old couple

  still sits in the corner, unmoving.

  A mother inserts something into her baby’s diaper,

  and the baby seems to know something is wrong

  and starts crying.

  An old man wraps up a small jar of coffee

  and hides it underneath his armpit.

  And I am thinking,

  Who would care about your coffee?

  An old lady in black urges a young woman

  to take off her headband

  and give it to her.

  Apparently, something was sewn inside,

  but it drops and rolls to the floor.

  The old lady searches under someone’s legs,

  but an angry old man in blue shouts,

  “What are you doing in this crisis?

  Don’t you know we all are about to be killed?”

  A city-like lady

  gets a big tube of toothpaste from her belongings

  and orders Nam, “Hurry! Put this with your toothbrush.”

  I wonder if she has inserted rolled-up American money

  inside the tube.

  I have heard of people doing that before.

  Next to them is a girl about my age

  with a haircut like a boy.

  She quickly smears something dark on her face

  to appear less appealing to the pirates.

  I have nothing to hide.

  All the gold is in Daigo’s clothing.

  Ma helped him sew the gold

  inside the seam of his shirt.

  Ma said that Daigo would be much better

  at taking care of it.

  I just hold on to Dee Dee.

  But I can hear my teeth

  chattering

  as I fear what the pirates might do

  besides robbing.

  The girl hands me the small bag of black ash,

  but my hands are shaking so much that

  I almost drop it.

  She helps me apply the ash

  onto my face

  and smiles at me,

  as if assuring me that

  I will be okay.

  24 | OUR BOAT WILL SINK

  Our boat will sink.

  The back of it has gradually tilted up

  while the front

  has tilted down.

  Many small children have been thrown

  to the floor.

  They scream.

  They cry.

  Someone shouts again,

  “Move to the back!

  The boat will sink!”

  Everyone is still, like statues.

  They fear they won’t have anything to hold on to.

  The old lady in black cries in Vietnamese,

  “Duc Me, please don’t let the boat sink!”

  More people cry;

  more people pray

  to Buddha,

  Kwun Yum,

  the Heaven God,

  or Duc Me

  to save them.

  Everybody seems to fear that

  we will either be drowned

  or killed

  or raped

  by the pirates

  because we hear the shouting above,

  “We will fight till we drop!”

  and we hear the tramping

  of desperate feet above.

  We are afraid.

  A
re the pirates already on board?

  Someone warns from the top of the steps,

  “Young women and girls, find places to hide!

  They are less than fifty feet away!”

  The cabin looks like a war zone

  after a devastating strike.

  People begin moving hither and thither,

  trying to find places to hide.

  But there are not many places to hide.

  Some cry and wail that

  they prefer drowning to being

  raped.

  I cry, and Dee Dee cries even louder.

  I don’t want to die.

  I don’t want to be raped.

  I want to go home.

  I want to be with Ma and Ah Mah,

  who can embrace me and protect me.

  25 | SOMEONE SHOUTS FROM ABOVE

  The whole cabin sounds like

  people in mourning.

  Someone announces from above,

  “Hooray! The pirate boat has gone!

  Hooray! The pirate boat has gone!”

  We are bewitched.

  We look at one another

  and can’t decide if it is true,

  until

  we hear clapping,

  until

  the small Vietnamese captain comes down

  and announces that

  we are okay.

  Our quick-witted captain

  unscrewed a light bulb

  in the pilot house

  and aimed it at the pirate boat,

  which was less than fifteen feet away from us.

  They thought it was a grenade

  and sped away!

  Many people give thanks

  to the quick-thinking captain.

  Many old ladies kneel down in front of him,

  “Oh, praise be! Kwun Yum and Duc Me have saved us.

  The captain has saved us!”

  The humble captain thanks them and says,

  “We are glad that we chased them away

  without any bloodshed

  and without damaging our boat.

  We hope we won’t encounter more pirates.”

  Back home we had heard that

  after pirates robbed the people on boats,

  they would sabotage the engine

  so the boat couldn’t continue.

  They would radio other pirates to come for that boat.

  That’s why sometimes a boat could be robbed

  three or four times

  if they were unlucky.

  I hope our boat

  will not be that one.

  26 | MINDING

  Our boat starts going again

  after the captain warns that

  no one should use flashlights

  or smoke on deck

  after dark.

  The lights might easily be seen

  by the pirates, even from a distance.

  People are more submissive than before.

  They heed the warnings of the captain.

  As night falls,

  the whole cabin is as dark as

  a cave, deep down in the earth.

  No one complains.

  Instead, more volunteers go up on the deck

  to stand watch,

  while those still in the cabin

  continue talking about the close call.

  They still praise the humble, quick-witted captain.

  27 | THE DEAD BODY

  Someone complains

  that there is a smell like that of a decaying corpse

  coming from the back of the cabin.

  Someone has died.

  Angry voices, shooting like flying swords,

  protest.

  “Throw the body into the water!”

  “They are selfish! That person must

  have been dead for some time,

  but they wanted to cover it up!”

  “No wonder they have been glued there

  even though the pirates came!”

  An old lady cries and begs in Cantonese,

  “Please, please don’t throw my niece into the sea.

  Please let us bury her on dry land.”

  A couple of men try to grab the body.

  The old lady threatens,

  “If you throw my niece into the ocean,

  I will jump in with her!”

  A sailor comes.

  He shines a flashlight onto the angry passengers

  who are all covering their noses,

  squeezing away from the old couple, who are isolated.

  The old lady guards the body

  while the old man stands up,

  ready to fight if necessary.

  The old lady cries to the sailor,

  “Please have mercy on this young lady

  who died so young. . . .”

  The sailor retreats without saying a word.

  He returns carrying the captain’s words—

  to let them remove the body onto the deck

  and wait until they reach dry land to bury her.

  The angry voices calm down.

  The old couple are so pleased.

  They say the captain will have good fortune

  because of his kindness.

  So the sailor throws a big piece of plastic sheet

  to the couple.

  The old lady weeps.

  Together with the old man

  they wrap the body carefully.

  They carry the body

  with difficulty.

  Nobody offers to help them,

  but everyone watches

  as if the old couple are contagious.

  Nam’s baba finally

  gives them a hand.

  The couple stay on the deck,

  despite the rain,

  despite the burning sun,

  and despite occasional high winds and waves,

  to guard the body.

  Yet, their seats at the back of cabin

  remain empty.

  28 | SO QUIET, LIKE DEATH

  I have lost track

  of how many days and nights

  we have been on the ocean.

  I am glad we haven’t encountered

  any ferocious storms.

  All I know is that

  the sailors have stopped serving porridge.

  The water they serve now looks like it has green algae in it.

  Dee Dee and I just carefully drink a few sips.

  I am glad I seldom throw up now.

  I haven’t had much water or food.

  I seldom need to go to the bathroom,

  but when I go,

  there is hardly any urine.

  The little that comes out is a dark golden color.

  I don’t feel like standing up

  or talking to Dee Dee.

  I just feel very sleepy.

  A baby cries.

  The sound is so weak, like a kitten meowing.

  The mother doesn’t have milk for him,

  even though she sticks her nipple into his mouth.

  A pregnant woman sobs.

  She worries her fetus has no nourishment.

  At last, the sailors stop giving us water—

  not even the water with green algae in it.

  There is no more water.

  Our cabin is so quiet now,

  like death.

  People just sleep;

  even the small children;

  even the babies.

  29 | LAND!

  At last, a man shouts

  from the top of the steps:

  “We see birds!

  We are going to see land soon!”

  The passengers suddenly come alive

  again,

  as though suddenly given nourishment

  after a long fast.

  They ask, “What country is it?”

  Someone snaps,

  “Who cares what country it is

  as long as it is land!”

  The old people start giving tha
nks to their gods.

  Despite my weakness,

  I hold on to Dee Dee, and together with the others,

  go up to see.

  It is barely dawn.

  Far away, there is a gray arch of shadow,

  like a camel’s back,

  half-hidden in the mist,

  on the far horizon.

  I suddenly feel so strong

  that I can stand against the wind.

  My eyes cloud over

  as I stare at the faraway shadow.

  30 | PIRATES ONCE AGAIN

  Everyone’s face is as bright as a morning sunflower,

  for our ordeal will end

  soon.

  Then someone spots a dot far away.

  It is moving.

  It is getting bigger.

  And it is speeding up

  toward us.

  It is a boat!

  The person warns,

  “Pirates! More pirates!”

  We scramble down to the cabin like a disaster

  is going to strike

  again.

  The whole cabin turns upside down once more.

  We cry,

  we scream,

  we pray,

  we hide

  until

  a sailor says,

  “It is not a pirate boat!

  It is a fishing boat!

  We are saved.”

  Someone asks, “From what country?”

  Several voices cut in,

  “Who cares from what country?”

  The sailor assures, “We are saved.”

  “Five days! Finally.”

  Nam’s parents and other adults all

  let out a sigh of relief.

  Dee Dee and Nam and other children jump up and down.

  Dao, Nam’s sister who applied the ash to my face, cheers.

  I cheer, and I shout.

  And the old ladies are giving thanks,

  kneeling down on the floor.

  Goodbye, uncertainty.

  Welcome, the new land!

  31 | OUR SINCERE THANKS

  As the engine of our boat stops,

  the sailor with rotten teeth

  comes down and asks,

  “Can anyone speak English?

  Our captain needs help.”

  Nam’s baba says,

  “Just a little.”

  He goes up with the sailor.

 

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