In the Shadow of Green Bamboos by C. L. Hoang

Author:C. L. Hoang
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vietnam, Vietnam War, immigrants, refugees, veterans, short stories, historical fiction, history, war, military
Publisher: C. L. Hoang

Of Crickets and Dragons *

What am I going to tell Má if I get hungry later?” asked Cu Bi (Coo-Bee), six, whose nickname means “little marbles” in Vietnamese, as he yanked nervously on his brother’s hand. His perky, round eyes, which had earned him the nickname, shone with anxiety under a tan forehead and a crop of uneven black hair that stuck up like weeds in places.

Cu Tí (Coo-Tee), or “baby mouse,” older by two years though barely a couple of inches taller on legs as scrawny as his little brother’s, squeezed his hand back. “Hey. You’re not going to be hungry. I will share my xôi—sweet rice—with you as we talked about. Promise.”

The sun was already high on that summer morning of 1968 as the two boys held hands and tiptoed around the mud puddles that dotted the open food market behind their neighborhood. The backs of their shorts and bare legs were splattered with mud stains kicked up from their rubber sandals in their hurry to get there. It had poured rain overnight, but the clouds had long since vaporized, unveiling a hazy blue sky. The muggy air was baking, as could be expected in Sài-Gòn in August, at the peak of the monsoon season. But that didn’t seem to deter in the least the noisy rabble that assembled every morning at the makeshift market on the vacant lot.

Pulling his little brother by the hand, Cu Tí threaded his way among the hodgepodge of steamy food carts and baskets strewn all over the ground. Once a week, their mother gave each of them five đồng to treat themselves to their favorite breakfast at the market—sweet rice with yellow mung bean, sprinkled with shredded coconut and brown sugar and served on a banana leaf. But on that morning, sweet rice with mung bean and coconut, as delicious as it always sounded, wasn’t the first thing on the boys’ minds. In fact, whispering under their shared blanket the night before so they wouldn’t be heard by their parents, they had made a secret pact: they would order just a single portion of sweet rice in the morning and split it between the two of them. The money they saved, the boys were dying to spend on something else.

“There he is,” shouted Cu Tí, flailing his skinny arm at an old-looking man squatting on his haunches in a far corner. The man was clothed in a peasant’s black pajamas with a red-and-white kerchief tied around his head, and on the ground next to him sat what looked like a small cage. The brothers took off trotting toward the man and dropped to their hands and knees in front of the cage. It was a rough-hewn wooden box, taller and wider than it was deep, with a fine mesh screen tightly stretched across its front. The screen was crawling with critters on the inside, and a concert of high chirping sounds emanated from the box.

“Look here,” exclaimed Cu Tí, poking excitedly at the metallic web with his finger.

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