My Father, the Panda Killer by Jamie Jo Hoang

Author:Jamie Jo Hoang [Hoang, Jamie Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2023-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

This is the largest family gathering I’ve ever been to, and the guest of honor is…eccentric. Our family is scattered across the US and travel is expensive, so get-togethers are rare, but this is a special occasion. My aunt O Uyên just immigrated here from Vietnam. I guess Chú Thịnh got his paperwork in order after all. My dad’s sister is two years younger than he is. She’s flashy in the way she dresses, and her husband is a wallflower by comparison. I can’t make sense of them as a married couple, him with frayed vocal cords and her with a booming voice that carries throughout the house. O Uyển’s dynamic with him is so the opposite of everything Vietnamese that I can’t stop watching how she bosses him around, and he just takes it. Their two sons speak zero English, and because my Vietnamese is terrible, I avoid them like the plague. I thought Chú Thịnh didn’t have kids, but of course, they lived in Vietnam with their mother, so I just hadn’t ever met them. Their relationship with their father is even more interesting. It’s like they’re complete strangers. To his credit, though, Chú Thịnh is trying. He introduced them to everyone and walked them through the buffet, asking what they wanted to eat. To an American, this probably seems normal, but Vietnamese men never serve their wives, let alone their children. It’s disrespectful to the natural hierarchy or something.

Fifty or more people are sprawled out in every room of the home, including hallways. It’s so crowded that personal space can only be found in the bathroom, and even then, there are people sitting right beside the door. People drove in from Texas, Florida, Tennessee, Michigan, Connecticut, Orange County (down south), and, of course, the neighboring cities of Sacramento, Modesto, and Stockton.

I’m sitting on a stool in the kitchen. I chose it because I’m near the food, and I can kind of pretend like I’m busy shredding lettuce or something. Paul ditched me for Stephen, who took him to some other part of the house. I watch as the adults greet one another with more joy than I thought a Vietnamese person could muster. They’re not exactly crying, but it’s emotional.

They’re hugging too—well, the women are, anyway. The men pat each other on the back or vigorously shake hands. Everyone is in awe of the reconnection. It’s as though they didn’t expect to see one another ever again. Like they hadn’t planned a reunion at all but just happened to run into each other here.

My dad’s eyes are glassy. He looks like he’s seeing ghosts. I’ve never considered how lonely he might be with just me and Paul.

“Ey! There’s the big shot liquor store owner,” Bác Chuyên says. It’s only 2:00 p.m., and he’s already wasted. “These guys, they don’t have a business sense, but you do. I have an idea.”

My dad shrugs the man off like he’s a stranger—like he wasn’t just shooting the shit behind our store with him, Bác Luy, and Chú Thịnh a couple of weeks ago.

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