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THE WRITERS POST (ISSN: 1527-5467) VOLUME 8 NUMBER 1 JAN 2006
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THE PURPLE ROSES A SHORT STORY BY THUHUONG
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What did you find in this garden this morning? -
I found a few memories and a little happiness. The
train stopped at Lao Cai train station at 5:00a.m., after a 10-hour overnight train
ride from Hanoi that wound in the darkness through muddy rice paddies, past
small huts with thatched or ancient tile roofs and through large and small
towns along the railroad. From Lao Cai, Amber and
the tour group traveled 40 kilometers in a van in the dense fog, winding
along a steep road cut through the terraced hillsides of the Hoang Lien Son
mountain range. Finally the van reached the Valley of Roses Resort and spit
people out at the front of the registration building at 7:30a.m.
It was a dreary morning and Sa Pa was enveloped in thick mist. "Bad
luck! We have traveled thousands of miles from California to Viet Nam just to
get sick, breathe polluted air, and get soaked in the rain and mist. I hate
the dampness; I hate the drizzling!" said Amber, venting her frustration
and disappointment. "Calm
down, Amber; we are here. Tell me, who fell in love with that picture of a
little Hmong girl standing on a hilltop in a film of mist? Be patient Amber,
I know you are tired, but be patient.
When we get our room, you can sleep as much as you want," said Lan, holding Amber’s cold hand tightly. Umbrellas in their hands, people chatted
excitedly and sprang out of the bus into the rain: German, French, Italian,
and Irish. Amber felt weak, sick, and
nauseated. She wished that she could
lie in a warm bed or have a cup of hot tea to calm her noisy stomach. Amber and Lan
jumped out of the van last without any umbrella or raincoat. Amber looked shriveled and pale as though
she could fall into the watery concrete courtyard at any second. Lan interpreted
the irritation in Amber’s eyes as saying that she wished to be back in Hanoi. After
registering, the group followed the tour guide, who was quiet and tired after
a long sleepless night, to the assigned cottages. The
Valley of Roses resort is perched on a hillside facing hazy Mt. Fan Si Pan,
the highest peak in Viet Nam, and is surrounded by a sea of roses. Guests stay in cottages that pop up amidst
the rose garden with their curling smoke columns climbing slowly
skyward. A tiered rice paddy lies submerged
in the mist on the hillside opposite
the resort. Amber and Lan walked
for a short distance on the slippery rock path until the tour guide pointed
to chalet number four and called their names loudly. They said a temporary goodbye to the group
and turned left onto the tiny path leading to their cottage. Reaching the room, Lan
raced to the heater and turned it on high.
Amber dropped her belongings, jumped into the bed and covered herself
with the down comforter. She curled
her tired body beneath the comforter thinking of sleeping through the
day. She felt chilled. Her stomach was making so much noise! Contrary to Amber, Lan
felt energetic and changed into a new outfit: a maroon cashmere turtle neck
sweater, a maroon beret and a maroon scarf.
The denim Guess jeans fit her long legs beautifully. Amber lazily watched Lan
as she left for a walk, and then gradually dozed off. When she woke up, the clouds had vanished
and warm rays from the sun were streaming into the room, dancing in her
eyes. She felt light hearted. She had an urge to walk outside and mumbled
to herself: "I can't lie in the room through a beautiful morning like
this." She went outside and
meandered through the rose garden, flitting like a butterfly, smelling this
blossom, touching others, wrinkling her nose or shaking her head. Amber felt alive. Time breezed by quickly and suddenly she
felt hungry. Amber remembered that
she had skipped dinner and breakfast.
Thinking of a steaming bowl of chicken soup dotted with a few slices
of green onion, a few slices of chicken floating on the top of the clear
broth, and white rice noodles, she walked towards the resort restaurant. Suddenly
she heard someone greeting her; a male voice, warm and tender. She halted, turned and responded to him
with her typical politeness and caution.
Perhaps the rose bushes were too high or she was distracted, for she
hadn't seen him until now. A few yards
from her, behind a row of blossoming roses, a man stood calmly looking at her. She could see his slim figure of average
height and his brown face. His eyes were hidden beneath the visor of his
cap. Her hands nervously searched for
her coat pockets as they did every time she encountered a stranger. He might have been watching her wandering
in the rose garden for a long time.
She felt embarrassed and thought of what she had done in the garden,
sometimes looking up at the cloudless sky, sometimes smelling rose blossoms,
sometimes reciting a verse of an ancient poem softly. So had this man shared the same morning air
and observed her sentimental moments? "Hello
Miss. How are you? What did you find in the garden this
morning?" the stranger softly asked her with a friendly smile. "Good
morning! I found a few memories and a
little happiness,” Amber answered shyly.
Her long lashes fluttered over
her downcast eyes. Her complexion
looked rosy, perhaps from the color of her burgundy wool coat or from the
warm sun. She looked fresh and
beautiful. "Is
this your first visit to Sa Pa?" "Yes! Yes it is.
I love this garden! She
laughed softly and talked to him in detail about the various flowers in the
garden, assuming that he would understand what she was talking about. The man smiled cheerfully, hearing someone
express appreciation for his hard work. "This
is my world, a tranquil place with fresh air.
My sacred refuge. You see, I am
the gardener, a little God to this garden.
But a God who cannot foresee his future," the stranger replied. "So
you are the God of this heaven." Her sweet voice rose in the warm air as
a soft breeze wafted not only the virgin air but also the wonderful fragrance
of the roses to her nostrils. She
inhaled the fabulous scent into her lungs and felt like she was embraced by
an unseen force surrounding her. "Are
you a tourist, Miss? You don't mind if
I ask you this question?" he hesitantly asked Amber. The
question took herby surprise. "Why
do you think I am a tourist? Don't I
speak Vietnamese as well as you?" she responded stiffly and with cold irritation. "No
offense intended, Miss. You speak
Vietnamese fluently. It is your look,
your aura. I find that people who have
been living abroad are so alive. They
are different than us in the way they talk to each other, the way they look
at things, and the way they laugh so freely.
From our viewpoint, they must be living a wonderful life. You see the
people that you have met here and that live here, they seldom smile, they
don't laugh and their eyes are empty.
We have been through so much hardship in the past that we do not have
the spirit of living. We live like
robots. You and other tourists are
like the fresh ocean breeze!" "I
am sorry I got a little irritated,” Amber replied, her voice filled with
regret. "I was born and raised in
Vietnam and it is difficult to be viewed as a foreigner in my home
country." "Please! Don't say sorry, miss," he smiled at
her and his eyes seemed far away. His voice rose again as though in longing:
"Looking at you wandering among the roses in the morning sun was a magic
moment. I appreciate your presence tremendously. Talking to you makes me feel alive. It makes me think of a time long ago with
someone else." The
stranger talked fast as though he were afraid that Amber would disappear like
the mist from the hills. Amber could
feel the delight in his voice. He
poured his heart out to her, another stranger. He stood in the stillness of the garden and
exuded confidence, but, he looked so lonely.
A lonely God who couldn't foresee his future, Amber thought. There
was something about him…….something that stirred her emotions. She felt confused and wondered why listening to his voice seemed
to make her heart tremble. She looked
hard at him; he looked decent, wearing a red wine-colored shirt and khaki pants. One hand held a pair of trimming scissors.
He didn't look like a professional gardener to her. The stranger started walking toward her.
Unconsciously, Amber fluttered her eyelashes and composed her voice as she
usually did when she talked to someone that she could trust. Why did she suddenly trust this man? She lifted her chin and her curious eyes
stared straight into his deep sad eyes. She believed that eyes are the
windows of a soul. She noticed a tiny faded scar on his left eyebrow and a
sudden realization hit her like a blow to her face. In that moment Amber felt like the ground
where she stood was moving, her heart beat faster and faster, her head was
dizzy with shock, and she tumbled toward
the man who stood a few feet from her. "You
are sick," he whispered to her. "I
can't see you!" Amber panicked
and tried to stand up straight. Her
face was pale, her eyes closed and she almost fell backward. "Let
me help you." The man extended his hands quickly to keep her from
falling. "Here is my arm; hold
it please and let me walk you to your place," he whispered into her ear. His
voice rose and fell while Amber’s body leaned against his shoulder as they
walked to her cottage. He tucked her
beneath the down comforter. She was
confused and her head felt like it was spinning. He looked around the
room, saw the thermos near the coffee
table, poured a cup of hot tea for her, and brought it to her bed. He helped her to sit up. She held the warm tea cup with both hands
and sipped it slowly, trying to think of what she could say to this man. A half cup of tea quickly disappeared but
Amber still couldn't compose herself.
Finally she decided to introduce herself using her American name. She only could say a few words and lie down
again. The man sat down in a chair
near her bed. He looked at her sadly
and said: "My
name is Ba."
His lips quivered like he wanted to say something more, but he wasn't
able to utter a word. He stared at her
in silence. The air inside the room
felt thick and heavy. Amber finally
broke the silence. She thanked him
profusely, glanced at the clock on the wall and told him that her friend
would be here soon for lunch and could help her. "Are
you sure she'll be back soon?" Without waiting for an answer, he made a
phone call to the kitchen and ordered chicken soup for two people. He told her that he was going to a
management meeting this afternoon and had to leave. After
Ba left, Amber broke into tears and began to weep
inconsolably. She cried and cried her
heart out. Ba,
who is Ba? This
man was Son, her ex-husband! He didn't recognize her even though he was by
her for nearly 30 minutes. She
wondered if she had changed so much
or if she was the only one who still
thought about their past life together. Perhaps he had married someone and didn't want to acknowledge
her, or had just forgotten her after so many years. When he was next to her, she didn't have
the courage to hold him in her arms and say "Son, I am your
wife". She could no longer say
that, since she had remarried long ago after giving up hope of ever seeing
him again. "Son is alive; I have
betrayed him by marrying David!"
Why had she recognized Son in a second when she looked into his eyes
and he had not recognized her? Amber
was deeply hurt. Suddenly
Lan burst open the door, talking loudly: "I
had so much fun! I learned how to
bargain and how to negotiate with the merchants. They were like bees buzzing all around the
tourists on their way to the market. I
bought some items for you and me even though I'm a lousy bargainer. But I don't care,” she talked and talked
until she saw Amber sinking sadly into the sofa, her eyes filled with
tears. Lan
was astonished to see Amber’s distress.
She threw the gift bags on the floor, rushed toward sofa, and hugged
her tightly. "What's
happened? You look terrible. Tell me! Tell me," Lan
asked urgently. "Son
is alive! He is here....he is the
gardener. He didn't recognize me! He was in this room and stood right here. He left just before you got back,” Amber
said tearfully. "Whoa,
this is crazy! Crazy! Were you in a
daze this morning? Were you confused
and saw someone else who has features
like him?" Lan caressed Amber’s back and tried
to calm her down. Her voice was tender
next to the sound of Amber weeping.
"If that man is Son, he might have married another woman. He could look ugly and old like an old tree
after many years in a concentration camp," Lan
said, her voice firm and serious. Lan was stunned at Amber’s
statement. If Son had stood in front
of her, she would have hugged him, would have called his name whether or not
he was married, old and tattered.
Someone knocked at the door. Lan opened it
and a young girl entered carrying a tray with two big bowls of steaming
chicken soup. Lan
found a small note from under a pair of chopsticks and spoons: “Amber,
try to rest and eat some soup. This will help you, and I will drop by later
to see you. Ba". Lan stared at the
note and looked directly into Amber’s eyes with an unspoken question: who is Ba? "Ba is the gardener. Ba is Son.
Son is Ba. I
don't know. I don't know. I don't know why he has that name. If you see him and talk to him, you will
know Ba and Son is the same person,” Amber said in
a confused voice. After
eating, the two women discussed the matter for a long time. They
decided to see if they could determine whether Ba
was indeed Son. They went to the
manager's office to try and get information on Ba's
background, but were told he was gone until 4:00 p.m. . They made friends with the young
receptionist and chatted with him for awhile.
They pretended they were Ba's cousins from
Hanoi and wanted to talk to him. After
Lan and
Amber gained his confidence, he opened up and pointed to the hilltop across from the
resort and told them that the owner allowed Ba to
stay in a hut located the second from
the right on the ridge top. Leaving
the receptionist, they climbed the hillside and hiked to Ba’s
hut. It was small and primitive, but
looked neat and clean from the outside.
He was not there, so they decided to take a chance and go inside. Neither the gate nor the front door was
locked so they easily gained entrance.
They scanned the inside of the house quickly, from the bookcase near
the door to the end table by the bamboo bed.
They saw nothing in the sparse belongings in the hut that could verify
that Ba was Son.
They both knew Son used to be a bookworm with his bookcase always full
of many good books when they were together in Vietnam long ago. Disappointed, they returned to their
cottage and sat still for a long time.
To escape the stagnant atmosphere in the room and help resolve the
issue, Lan went to the manager's office again to
chat with the receptionist, hoping she could get more information about Ba. Amber stayed
in the cottage, laid her head on the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling Meanwhile,
Ba sat in his meeting but could not
concentrate. Amber had captured his
mind. Finally he could not stand it any more, and
left the meeting. He went to his hut
and built a fire to brew some tea to keep him warm. He sat near the fire, and stared at the
orange dancing flames thinking about his wife, Thuy
Tien, twenty two years ago. He clucked his tongue and whispered to
himself that time had just flown by.
He hadn't seen her since the terrible time of the fall of Saigon in
1975. Thuy Tien was about 5'2", slim, fragile and timid. When
she talked to someone she fluttered her eyelashes unintentionally, though it
sometimes looked to others that she was trying to flirt. Son had loved the smile that made her face
so radiant, showing her brilliant white teeth. On
the contrary, this woman Amber, who reminded him so much of his wife in her
mannerisms, was much more rounded, had dimples and spoke with an air of confidence. But similar to Thuy Tien, Amber had a beautiful smile and her eyelashes
fluttered when she talked to him. He
mumbled the two names, Thuy Tien
and Amber, many times and finally he went to the conclusion that Amber and Thuy Tien could be one
woman. Ba
was so confused. He looked at himself
in the mirror and didn't recognize that person. He had changed so much. He felt old and worn out. He thought perhaps his ex-wife also had
changed so much. Amber could be Thuy Tien or vice versa. Too tired he dropped his head on his knees
thinking if he hadn't seen Amber’s face and had only heard her voice, her laugh and inhaled her
scent he would have believed that Amber was Thuy Tien, his wife. But
then a thought struck him……something that was important and special to him
and Thuy in the past. His eyes sparkled as he
picked up the kettle from the fire and set it on the floor. He stood up, clutched the basket that he
found near the fireplace, and ran into the back yard, forgetting that he
hadn't worn a warm coat. He stared at
the purple rose bush that boasted more than a dozen plump buds and many
blossoms. They were so fresh and
beautiful under the evening sun. Their
wonderful fragrance drifted into his face. He quickly cut them, flew down the
hillside, and minutes later stood in
the front door of Amber’s cottage. He
knocked on the door urgently; he couldn't wait any longer without knowing. His instinct told him that he was
right. His heart beat faster and
faster, wanting to burst. Ba had recalled that Thuy Tien and he shared a
special meaning for the purple roses from the rose bush planted in the
backyard nearby the window of their room years ago. He never forgot the rose's fragrance or Thuy Tien’s sweet scent. He remembered when they made love that the
rose's fragrance always lingered in the room.
Thuy Tien, Ba, and the purple rose bush had a special
relationship. He
was not able to tend to those roses for more than 10 years when he was sent
to a concentration camp in North Viet Nam.
During many chilled nights in the labor camp, he thought of his wife
and their closeness in their warm bed.
Imagining the beautiful rose blossoms and their fresh fragrance
consoled him during his time of extreme hardship. After Son was finally released from the
concentration camp, he returned to his parents' home in Da
Lat province. His mother and sister
didn't recognize him when he showed up at the front door. He looked like a corpse with his thin body
and haunted eyes. He couldn't stand tall
like he used to; he only had enough strength to reach his home and collapse
at the front door. He
brought home so many diseases that without someone caring for him he would
have soon died. Even though his
mother and his sister were poor, they nurtured him back to life. During those bedridden days he learned that
his father had passed away and Thuy Tien was no longer there.
But the rose bush was still alive.
Many times he cut rose blossoms for his sister to sell at the market,
but as he did so, he wept quietly. A
few years later, he had the opportunity to leave Viet Nam with the
Humanitarian Organization Program but he wanted to care for his mother in the
last few years of her life. Knowing
that she could be gone soon, one day his mother whispered to Son and advised
him that he needed to marry and start a new life. She gave him an old letter that one of her
cousins from America had sent to her long ago, letting her know that Thuy Tien had remarried. The
letter also explained that Son’s wife had waited for him more than eight long
years. Son held the letter in his hand
and a flood of tears rolled down his cheeks like a monsoon. He was sad for his fate. He was hurt tremendously
and he was miserable. A week later his
mother passed away. He drifted into a life of poverty for many years
since the Viet Communists would not allow him to take any job in the
community. Finally in 1993 he was
given a job as a gardener at the Valley of Roses Resort in Sa Pa from Mr.
Tan, a close friend from college. Tan
knew that Son would do a good job since he had so much knowledge about roses
and gardens. Son transported the
purple rose bush to Sa Pa and re-planted it in his backyard. He determined to forget the past and
assumed the new name of "Ba" on the day
he started working at the resort. Sinking
deep into the sofa with the cold cup of tea nearby, Amber felt empty and
sad. Suddenly she heard urgent knocks at the door and had a
feeling that it was Ba. She was instantly nervous. Unintentionally her hand reached for the
tea cup and she gulped the full cup of cold tea and swallowed it
quickly. She pinched her face to make
sure that she was still alert. She
walked to the door and opened it to find Ba
standing there clutching a bouquet of purple roses. Her mouth opened wide with astonishment
when she saw the roses. He looked
nervous and was trembling a bit, either from the cold wet air, or from his
excitement, but his eyes sparkled with a new fire. "Thuy Tien, I just cut fresh
roses for you!" Amber and Ba’s voices rose in unison: "the rose has the
fragrance that I love so much." "Oh,
the purple roses! Oh, the
fragrance!" Amber only could say
a few words and then she fell into his arm and wept like a waterfall. They
held each other without saying a word.
No word could express the depth of their feeling after nearly a quarter century of
separation. "This
morning I thought that you had forgotten me.
I believed you must have married someone else and didn't want to deal
with me any more.
I recognized you in a split second when my eyes landed on the tiny
faded scar above your left eye. I
almost fainted and you helped me to my room, but then I thought you did not
recognize me,” Amber wept. He
lifted her face and looked into her eyes, whispering softly and emotionally:
"I was confused at that moment, thinking it was you, thinking it was not
you. I will never let you get away
from me again. I can recognize your voice, your laugh even when I close my
eyes. I can smell your sweet body
scent. Now I am old and broken. I have
changed so much and I am no longer the person that once you fell in love with
long ago. Time
froze. The air was completely
tranquil. Amber's beautiful eyes
sparkled. Her gaze dwelled on his
face, while one of her fingers touched his lips as if begging him to quit
speaking. She knew that they could
talk to one another endlessly to make up for the lost years. But it should be later, not now. Son understood her perfectly. His eyes locked onto hers for a lingering
moment. Her face was on his chest and
her tears were warm, wetting his shirt, as he too cried softly, his tears
like the morning dew landing on her smooth hair. Their hearts beat in
harmony. They were in their dream
world when suddenly Lan opened the door. Seeing Amber and Son holding one another,
she was stunned for a moment, and then broke into tears. She stretched out her arms and rushed
toward them. She couldn't speak a
word, just cried and cried as she felt Son and Amber’s hands caressing her
hair and her back. "I
got the information I was looking for about Mr. Ba
so I raced over here to tell you the good news, but seeing both
of you in each other's arms is the best news I could possibly hope for,"
Lan said, her voice choked with tears and
emotion. "Lan! Is it really you? Is this the same girl I knew long
ago? Even though your appearance has
changed, I can see that spirit, that energy.
You always were cheerful and happy." Son was astonished to see Lan. He felt like
he was back in his own world again, somewhere in Dalat
province. He shook his head in
disbelief and tried to hide the strong sentiment he felt at seeing her
again. The two most important women
from his past life suddenly in front of him after 22 years, all at once. It was almost too much to take and he felt
dizzy and faint. They all sat down and began excitedly
talking at once with the tears flowing freely. Suddenly Lan
looked at her wrist watch as if she had something she needed to do. "Oh,
I forgot to tell you Amber, that I have a date with that Irish guy for dinner
at the Mimosa restaurant in Sa Pa. So
I'd love to stay and talk to you, but we can do it later. I need to take a shower and dress up nicely
to win his heart, don’t you think?" said Lan
mischievously, laughing softly. But
she really wanted to be by Son, really wanted to know what had happened to
him in the last 22 years. Son had been
her first love even though he didn't know it at the time. Did he ever realize that she was in love
with him when she was 15 years of age?
Did he ever know that she was devastated when he came to her asking
her to introduce him to Amber, her best friend? Did he ever wonder why after that she
remained single? She stared at him for
a long moment and surrendered herself. "Don't
go, please. Son and I would like the
three of us to have dinner in this room and have a joyful reunion. I know that you love red wine, a good meal,
good company and a chat by the fireplace.
We won't cry any more. We will
celebrate our love for one another. Is
it OK with you, Lan? Please call and cancel your date
tonight." Amber understood Lan's heart well.
She knew that Lan loved Son deeply and her
heart had been broken by Amber who had the beauty to win Son's heart long
ago. She understood that Lan wanted Amber and Son to have time alone tonight. Lan could not
understand why Amber begged her to share the moment of reunion with her
former husband. Lan
always had been a part of Amber’s life for many years. She once was a part of Son's young life in
Da Lat where their parents were neighbors. Many years later, after they had fled to
the US and Amber married Davis, Lan confessed that
she had loved Son since she was 15 years old, but Son only loved Lan like a young sister.
Lan remained a special person to him, even
after he married Amber. She had the
right to be by Son just as much as Amber, but this was a special moment for
them, and perhaps even after all of these years they would reunite as husband
and wife. Hearing Amber begging her to
stay, Lan was confused. She looked at the firm eyes of Amber and
understood that Amber wasn't just being polite. She rolled her eyes and stared at Son as
telling him that she didn't understand. "Yes,
please cancel your date and have dinner here tonight with us," Son said
to her gently like a brother talking to a sister. Amber added, "We
have so much to tell one another after 22 years of drifting away. Son perhaps would like to know what's
happened to us since we left Saigon.
So do we, we would like to know the hardship Son suffered in his
miserable path during 22 years living under the communist regime. We are so happy for this surprise reunion
today. We have had so much pain and
suffering. Now we deserve a better
time, a happy time, don't we, my friends?" Amber talked with spirit and a hint of
authority. Son listened to her with
awe. Was this woman, who spoke these
words so confidently in front of his face tonight his timid, fragile
wife, his lover that he promised to
care and to protect long ago? Without
him in the past 22 years she had changed from a cocoon into a beautiful
butterfly. All the hardship, all the
tears in the past had transformed her into to a strong person. His heart filled with delight. That
night, the moon, clear and bright, hung high in the starry sky. Inside the cottage, Son, Amber and Lan sat by the fireplace after dinner and talked
animatedly to one another. Their happy laughter reverberated in the warm air
and their sparkling eyes danced like the red flames endlessly reaching up the
fireplace chimney. Son put more wood
on the fire, and the red particles surged upwards. They sipped their wine gradually and basked
in the happiness of the moment. That
night Amber sometimes sobbed uncontrollably for their lost years and the
hardship that Son endured during his 10 years in a concentration camp. She stared at the dancing red flames and
wondered what she could do for him now to make his life easier. Her heart went out to him as she observed
his face, still handsome to her, in the glow of the flames. She still remembered that Son, many times
in their past together, had wished that he could build a beautiful mansion
for her on some scenic hilltop and could
plant the hillside with purple
roses. Her emotions consumed her as
she thought, "I still love him so much!
Perhaps we can have a second chance to be with each other." She pushed the gnawing thoughts about David
in the back of her mind and imagined living with Son in a beautiful mansion
on a hilltop somewhere. In that sweet
home, Son would sit by the fire reading a good book, and she would just sit
next to him. Son looked at Amber
sitting next to him, and felt a love for her just as strong as when she was
his wife 22 years ago. He felt like
the years of separation had never happened and time had just moved
ahead. He looked at her as though
saying "I am here now; I won't go away from you any more". Amber and Son's eyes locked together at
that moment and communicated their love. As
this extraordinary evening wore on, Son glanced over at Lan
with a tender look as though telling her that she too always was and always
would be a special person in his life. Lan
understood what Son was telling her and closed her eyes. She desired to help
this man who meant so much to her, improve his meager and struggling
life. Deep in her heart she felt her
love for him surging fast like a tsunami.
A plan began to form in her mind, the perfect gift for this noble and
deserving man. For
these souls who had the misfortune to be born and raised during a terrible
and prolonged war, their miraculous reunion that night felt like a moment
frozen in time. More than anything
they felt blessed just to be able to sit next to one another, to have a chance
to laugh and weep together, to be able to rekindle old feelings. They were enveloped and submerged in their
fresh love and knew at that moment it would last forever. Eventually they said goodnight, accompanied
by tender embraces and more tears. As
Son's bent figure slowly disappeared into the mist of the night, Lan resolved to put her plan into action. The next day she arranged to meet that week
with the owner of the Valley of Roses Resort.
After brief negotiations with him, a deal was struck to the
satisfaction of both parties. One
late morning on a fall day in Sa Pa three years later, Son wandered into his
back yard and cut some fresh flowers.
He turned and looked back at his dream home, the most beautiful
mansion in the area, perched on top of the hill and surrounded by purple
roses that had the purest and most tranquil fragrance. A column of smoke from the chimney of the
mansion wound into the cool air reaching for the sun perched above a mountain
top far away. He softly kissed a fresh
cut rose and smiled happily. He felt
so fortunate to live in the most beautiful place in Sa Pa, but more
importantly to have such a wonderful woman who loved him so much. He opened the back door and saw his wife
sitting at the table with pen and paper in front of her. "Good morning, my dear. How are you? I cut some fresh roses for the dining
room." Son walked toward his wife and gave her a tender kiss on her warm
cheeks. She smiled at him and spoke
in a soft voice, "Good
morning, my love. The roses look so
fresh and exquisite." "Are
you writing something?" "Yes,
I am about to. This morning I have an urge to write a letter to our friends
in America." She turned away
from him, picked up her pen and wrote….. Dearest
Amber, I
woke up early this morning and just had to write to you! The dense mist has
been wandering above Sa Pa for the last few days. The sunshine now is dancing warmly on our
many hills. I am thinking of you and I
really miss seeing you. Where are you
now? Perhaps you are hiking on a new
trail, or biking along the Monterey coast, or in Pacific Grove or Carmel,
watching the relentless and powerful waves rushing onto the shores. Or maybe
you are sitting on a warm rock in the desert reading a book under the
beautiful sunshine, or perhaps you and Davis are having a sumptuous meal in a
fancy restaurant watching the sunset somewhere. I miss you. When
are you going to visit Sa Pa again and see our magnificent purple roses? My
dearest, remember that Son and I
always think of you when we watch the
sun falling behind Mt. Fan Si Pang,
when we are submerged into the thick mist, when the fragrance of the purple
roses lingers in the moist air, or when we sip a cup of tea under the
moonlight. I shall never forget that
magical night 3 years ago when we Son returned to us. Who could have possibly dreamed that it
would work out like this, with happiness for all of us? I wish someday soon
Davis and the three of us can sit by our fireplace and talk all night, and we can relive our
fairytale, and be as we were when we were young and innocent. Remember Amber, we are always here for
you. I
miss you, Amber. I miss you, sister. ¾ Lan
THUHUONG The Writers Post &
literature-in-translation, founded
1999, based in the US. Editorial
note: Works
published in this issue are simultaneously published in the printed Wordbridge magazine (ISSN: 1540-1723). Copyright
© Thu Huong
2006. Nothing in this magazine may be downloaded, distributed, or reproduced
without the permission of the author/ translator/ artist/ The Writers Post/ and Wordbridge magazine. Creating links to place The Writers
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