Kathy's Rewrite for A Grain of Wheat

This re-writing is based on the post-colonialist novel A Grain of Wheat by Kenyan novelist Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o. The story is told from the perspective of Mumbi.


“Gikonyo, are you going to go out today?” Mumbi said happily to her husband, who was sitting at a chair in the kitchen and holding a cigarette, without smoking, as if he was deep in his mind thinking about something. “If so, do not go back late. Don't forget Kihika will come tonight to have dinner with us.”
Kihika was Mumbi’s older brother. He was her only sibling. Their parents just had these two children, and they loved the two children very much. Kihika is a young man who embodied all the typical qualities of what a young man should have. He was strong, brave, and enthusiast about everything. Mumbi was very fond of this bother of hers. As a young woman, she really appreciated the qualities of her brother, thinking that her dear brother was truly a virtual figure of masculinity, and he should be a hero. Having read some romantic novels when she was a teenager, Mumbi had a conception in her daydream that if Kihika were living in a novel, he must have been the true hero in the story. As Mumbi was deep in her daydream, Gikonyo unconsciously stared at her for a short while. He did not respond her. It was easy to tell that he had something in his mind. That thought was troubling him, making him deep in silence. Of course he knew that Kihika would be coming this evening, he believed that he remembered this much clearer than Mumbi did, although Mumbi was the one who had blood relation with Kihika. He knew more clearly than Mumbi why Kihika intended to come this evening, and although he also wanted Kihika to come, to talk with him, he was nevertheless troubled by Kihika’s coming. What he was thinking about was much more than Kihika’s coming tonight. He was also worried about the future. Yes, the future, much more further than tonight. He was worried about Mumbi’s future as well.
“Hey, darling, what are you thinking about?” Mumbi turned her head towards Gikonyo. There was a touch of questioning in her big eyes. She noticed that he seemed did not hear her talking. “Why are you so silent today?”
“None.” Finally Gikonyo opened his mouth and gave out some words. “I’m just enjoying my cigarette. I remember Kihika will be coming this evening. Don’t worry. I will be back early.”
Mumbi relieved. She gave him a big smile. “That’s good. It’s really kind of you.”
“Yes, I always remember Kihika is your dear brother. Let’s welcome him this evening.”
*
After Gikonyo had left home, Mumbi also prepared herself for going out. She wanted to go to the market to buy some fresh goods for tonight’s dinner. Although the only guest tonight was her brother, she still felt honoured by his coming, since he is the person she respected the most. He was the hero in her daydream. She got changed, and stepped out of home. Walking in the street, she can see many people were busy doing their works. People walking in the street seemed to know what they wanted to do, and what they were supposed to do exactly. Everyone in the street seemed to have a clear direction. These people, they are not only Kenyan natives, but also what were commonly called white people. Most of them are English, since Kenya was commonly considered as controlled by English people, and there were many English settlers in Kenya. Although Mumbi herself was a Kenyan native, she felt that she had got used to these English settlers, or rather, she never feels really uncomfortable with these white people, if she could be honest. She knew that many Kenyan natives were not satisfied with these white people. They thought the white people came to settle on their homeland. The white people not only occupied their land, but also consumed their resources. In the natives’ opinion, these white people also exploited the native people, since they employed natives as labours to do works for them. To many Kenyan natives, this is no doubt an act of humiliation. These bad white people, they controlled the land that had originally belonged to Kenyan natives.
Mumbi knew that many Kenyan natives embodied this kind of conception. However, she could not really agree with them. Yes, they maybe right that white people used many of the resources that should have belonged to the natives, but these whites also brought many good things to Kenya. It is unquestionable that the English society was more civilised than Kenyan society, no?
Mumbi began to absorb herself in her daydream again. She remembered those beautiful houses that English settlers were living in. Those spacious houses! The exterior of the houses are so beautiful, not to mention the interior design of the houses. Mumbi knew that there were beautiful decorations, and exquisite ornaments in the English houses. She had passed many English houses, and thrown glances into the interior of the houses. Compared to these English houses, did not the Kenyan style interior a little bit too shabby? Oh, and see the dresses of the English ladies. Were not these dresses so beautiful? Yes, and the manners of these English people. Did not these perfectly illustrate the privileged civility of these white people? If Kenya was not as good as the English society, why could not Kenyan natives accept the good things of the white people? Moreover, did not these white people bring discipline and order to Kenyan society? Did not they bring those advanced goods to Kenya? See those cars. Were not these good enough for Kenya that we got a chance to see so many interestingly new things? Mumbi thought she did not understand why Kenyan natives were so angry with these white people. Maybe she would never understand. She was not born before the arrival of the large scale of white settlers. When she was born, these white people had already settled in the Kenyan land. She accepted this reality from the beginning of her life, and she never felt uncomfortable with the settlement of these people. She knew that Kihika did not welcome the settlement of these whites, neither did Gikonyo. Of course they had their reasons. She never succeeded in persuading them to think the same way as she did. However, nor could they persuade her.
Mumbi entered a grocery shop that she usually turned to when shopping. She greeted the owner. He was also a Kenyan native.
“Hi dear, what do you want today?” the owner asked her warmly.
“Oh, some fresh vegetables and fruits, my brother will come this evening. I want to make a big meal for him.”
“Kihika? How is he going?”
“I think he is good.”
The owner of the shop opened his mouth, but did not give out any word for a while. Mumbi turned her head to look at him. She could see that he wanted to say something. There was a sense of hesitance on his face. She smiled to him, as if to encourage him to speak out. Finally, he did speak. “Did you hear something? About Kihika?” His face turned grieved.
“What? What do you mean?” Mumbi felt something different. She became a little bit nervous.
“I heard something about Kihika. I heard he is organising something really serious to resist those white people.”
“What? No way!” Mumbi responded instinctively. She was more like shouting out. She could not accept this idea. This was something dangerous in a true sense.
“You don’t hear anything like that?” The shop owner asked her, clearly shocked by her lack of knowing the news.
“No.” Mumbi suddenly felt cold, although the weather is gentle and warm. She felt her blood flew reversely. That was a strongly strange feeling. Her mind was blank, making her nearly faint.
“Oh, poor dear. I’m so sorry. I can see from your face that you are clearly frightened. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The shop owner did not feel better than Mumbi. He could see that he had scared this girl to death, and he felt really anxious and guilty. After all, he was not confirmed with the news. It was just something others had told him in their gossip. “Don’t worry, Mumbi. You know this is not true. It ‘s just what the gossip says. Maybe they are totally wrong. Don’t mind.” He tried to calm down the girl.Mumbi kept silent for a while. She was still chewing the words the shop owner had said. Was the news really unreasonable? She felt worried. Although the news was kind of gossip, there would not have been such gossip if there were not any reason. There must have been something that had led to this gossip. Was Kihika really going to organise a movement that resist the white settlers? She had always known that he did not like those white settlers. He was a member of those who thought the whites had occupied the land of Kenyan, exploiting the resources of Kenya, in terms of both natural resources and labour. Her husband Gikonyo also kept the same opinion. But resistance? That was a much more dangerous act than merely having opinions like that. They might lose their life if they tried to do this. Was her brother crazy?
No, I can’t let this gossip go. Mumbi told herself. I have to ask Kihika this evening.
Mumbi impatiently bought some vegetables and fruits, and then went back home quickly. She could not go to anywhere else to idle away her time. She did not have that mood. She tried her best to repress her fear and anxiety. In order to do this, she began preparing the dinner at a very early time, and tried to arrange the table setting the way she liked, imitating what the English ladies would do at home.
*
At dusk, Gikonyo went home.
“Hi, dear. How were you doing today?” He asked, casually.
“Not bad. I’ve spent my day preparing the dinner.” She tried her best to answer him, but apparently she lacked mood when speaking.
“See how beautiful our table is.” Gikonyo kissed his wife. “You are my good wife.”
“Of course.” She tried to respond him joyfully, but failed.
Gikonyo noticed something different about her. “Is everything okay?” He asked. “I feel you are not happy.”
Mumbi stared at her husband for a while. She was hesitant whether to tell him what she had been told by the shop owner. At last, she said. “I heard something bad when I went to the shop this morning.”
“Oh, what’s bad?” He began to worry about her grief.
“The shop owner told me that Kihika is organising a resistance movement against the white people. Did you hear anything like that?”
Mumbi noticed that there passed something on her husband’s face. Had he known this news already?
“You’ve heard this news, no?” She questioned him.
Gikonyo hesitated for a while. Yes, of course he knew this news, since he was a member of this movement as well. There were many other members who had agreed to participate in the movement. Kihika was the leader of the movement, and his intention to visit their home tonight is partly attributed to this. Kihika wanted to discuss with him about more detailed plans of the movement.
At last, he confessed. “Yes, I have heard this news.”
“Are you kidding?” Mumbi shouted out to him. “This is not a small thing. You should have told me this! Kihika is my brother. Don't you know I will be really worried about him if the news is true? This is dangerous! The movement is a bad idea because surely it’ll be dangerous!”
“I know, dear. I understand. That’s why I didn’t tell you anything about this. I know you will be worried.”“But the feeling is different. Words from you and from other people! This is dangerous. Tell me this is not true.”
“Darling, please calm down. Listen to me, the movement is going to be good for our homeland, for our nation. Do you understand?”
“So what they say is true. Kihika’s organising the resistance movement.”
“Yes, it’s true. But this will bring benefit to our homeland. We should be the masters of ourselves, we should not let outsiders to control us. Do you understand?”
“No. You don’t understand, darling!” Mumbi cried desperately. “What’s bad that white people settled in our place? You think they humiliate our Kenya people, but can’t you see they bring so many good things? They make us more civilised. They bring order and discipline to our land. And those cars, beautiful fabrics, those new things. If they hadn’t come, we couldn't have got these good points!”
“Mumbi, be conscious! I just can’t imagine you would say things like this. So you think those white people are better than our Kenyan people? They are more civilised and privileged? Are you crazy? Can’t you see we are humiliated? We lost our land, our resources, and our dignity. Can’t you see that we are considered as inferior by these white people? We are discriminated in our own land by outsiders, and you can’t see this?”
“But there is the reason. We are not as good as them. We need someone to bring new things to us so that we can become better, no?”
Gikonyo stared at his wife for a while. He could not believe she had said things like that. He knew she was not angry with those white people as much as many other Kenyan people did, but he could not believe she was the one who explicitly supported those whites. She could not see that Kenyan people was treated unequally. Gikonyo felt so upset and confused.
Finally, the only thing he could say to her was, “you are assimilated, darling.”
*
At dinnertime, the atmosphere was low. Both Mumbi and Gikonyo knew the reason. However, Kihika had not got any clue why they were unhappy. He just thought they had some quarrel before he arrived, and he tried very hard to cheer them up. His effort did not have much effect.
At last, they finished dinner. Kihika and Gikonyo shared their smoking time in the kitchen, and Mumbi brought some fruits for them to eat.
Kihika finally asked. “Are you okay? It feels like you are not happy. Don’t you welcome me?” He was just kidding, since he knew his sister respected him very much, and he was getting along with Gikonyo very well.
“Of course we do. Don’t be silly.” Gikonyo tried to comfort him.
“You had a quarrel?” Kihika asked.
Gikonyo instinctively lifted his head and threw a glance to Mumbi, and she also looked back at him. Alert filled their eyes.
Before Gikonyo tried to respond lightheartedly, Mumbi opened her mouth. “Yes, we had a quarrel earlier. It was about you, brother.”
Kihika looked confused. “Me?”“Yes. It’s like this. I heard from someone that you are preparing for a resistance movement against the white people. And when I asked Gikonya, he told me he’d already known this. I think he’d better have told me this earlier.”
“Oh. I see. But Mumbi, this isn’t worth to be so angry. After all you have known this news now. ”
“But are you sure you are going to lead the movement?” Mumbi asked impatiently. “Well, I mean, are you sure it is necessary to let this movement happen?”
“Why, my sister? I don’t understand you. Of course it is necessary.” Kihika looked a little bit confused. “Can’t you see the necessity?”
“Well, I think I understand a bit why you support the movement. I know what you and Gikonyo think, and yes, I know there are many people who agree with you. But I have my reason not to agree with the movement.”
“Such as?”
“Don’t you think the English people bring many good things to us? Like their culture, I mean things like their civility. And I think what they have brought to us makes us develop faster. You know, like technology good for our harvest. Can’t you see they bring us some benefit?”“Hey, you are crazy, my sister! Watch your words. How can you have such opinions?” Kihika got a little bit annoyed by Mumbi’s words. “It’s unreasonable you think this way! What’s the point the white people bring their things to make us better? Do you think they are helping us? They are helping themselves. Can’t you see that? They make our place better, so that they can live better in this place, and control this place. They are not helping us! They just want our land, they want to control our land, and us!”
“Okay, maybe they want our land. But anyway we are still living in our land, aren’t we? We didn’t virtually lose anything. But the reality is what they bring to us makes us better than before.”
“No, you don’t get the point, sister. What we really want is not that those white people making us better. We can help ourselves to make us better. We don’t need the help from these white people, since at the same time that they help us, they are making benefit for themselves. They control our most treasured things. Our land, and our life, that’s what we should treasure the most. Maybe they have brought something to us, but what we have lost is much more than what they brought to us. We lost our independence, our dignity. Our land is occupied, our people are controlled, we are humiliated. What we have lost is what we really want!”
Mumbi became silent. Her brother’s words were too convincing for her to totally disagree. Moreover, Kihika was the person he respected the most. She did not really want to offend him. However, she did not feel relieved.
“Brother, I also have personal reason to worry about you. You know the movement is too dangerous. I’m afraid you will get hurt. I don’t want to lose you." tears in Mumbi's eyes "Don’t forget parents just have you the only boy. Don’t you care about our feelings?”
“Of course I do. I ...I” Kihika stopped and turned to Gikonyo “Now, Gikonyo, come with me. Let’s talk about something really important.” The two men left the kitchen, leaving Mumbi alone, deep in desperation.

Nick's Rewrite for American History X

NB: Unfortunately this is not my finished draft because I totally changed my idea and direction on Thursday, but hopefully this gives you an idea of what this is about.

Before I begin I would like to give a background of this piece because while it is quite famous, not many people have seen or know of its existence. The film I am rewriting is one called ‘American History X’ and I decided on this piece because of its relevance in modern times. While many texts focus on post colonial prejudices that took place hundreds of years ago, ‘American History X’ is an extremely powerful film which highlights and brings attention to racism, neo-Nazism and xenophobia in America in today’s world. It is about Derek Vinyard (played by Edward Norton) who is a self confessed member of the white power movement in Los Angeles and his younger teenage brother, Danny (Edward Furlong), who narrates the film and seems to be following in Derek’s footsteps. In the film Derek shoots and kills two black men who are trying to steal his car and it explores his three years in prison as he comes to the realisation that everything he believes is a lie as well as following his life once he is released and his mission to get Danny out of the environment he was once part of. My rewrite is an extension of the film; at the end of the movie Danny is shot and killed by a black teenager at his school, which is a sad irony as Derek has just made him realise the errors of their ways. My rewrite will focus on Derek’s future as a councillor in a juvenile prison where he works to re educate teenage boys destined to become what he was in the sense of white power movements, I will be writing in first person from Derek’s point of view. I realise that this piece and film deals with some pretty horrendous themes but I think it is important to bring an awareness to it because as sick as it is, it is part of the world and if it can be combated, the better this world would be. Also here is a link to the trailer of the film.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jXaZENPQrsw

American Future: Derek’s Redemption

Ten Years Later

I awoke to my alarm clock yelling at me. Reaching across my body and rolling on my side, I shut the noise off and stared at the digital red 6:00 flashing back at me. The first thing that came to my mind was Danny. It has been ten years since he had been taken away from us but Danny was the always the first I thought about when got up. But I didn’t remember him as when I last saw him. I didn’t remember holding him in my arms, his body pierced with bullets, lifeless, as his blood soaked my shirt and as I screamed in agony on the bathroom floor of Venice Beach High. No, I didn’t remember him like that at all, even though that image had haunted me so many mornings before. When I awoke I remembered Danny’s cheeky grin flashing up at me, his eyes that used to dance with excitement and his laugh, oh that laugh, so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh with him even if you didn’t have a clue what was so funny. I smiled to myself as I remembered his laugh, I always did and that included the times in which I cried.

Getting up, I made my way to the bathroom for a quick shower before Ally got up. It was just us two now; Davina had moved to Washington and pursued a career with the Democrats just like we all knew she would, such a smart one that girl; and Doris? Well the smokes had finally claimed Mum, she said Danny had once told her that he would grow his hair back the day she quit smoking but Danny never got that chance. Stepping out the shower and wrapping a towel around my waist and stood on the freezing bathroom tiles and the cold shot through my body, mixing and cooling my body heat from the shower. As I stood on those tiles, I stared at my reflection through the misty, steam-filmed mirror. A Swartz sticker glared back at me from the left hand side of my chest. They had ways of removing tattoos nowadays but I would never get rid of it. It was a reminder. A reminder of who I was, who I had become and what it had cost me in the ultimate loss of my brother. All the other tattoos remained as well; the iron cross, the eagle, the words ‘white power,’ all reminders that I could not erase my past but that could better my future, my community, my world.

Ally was now the same age as Danny was when I was sent to prison. Smart like him, she had the same inquisitive hazel eyes and the same cheeky smile. She didn’t go to Venice Beach High like we did; I had instead enrolled her in a private girl’s school on the other side of town. The tuition was expensive but I worked long hours and it was better than her having to endure years in a building her brother had died. Pulling up to the front of the school, she started to go for the door, ‘Hey!’ I said. Ally turned back and looked at me, “Sorry, I forgot,” she replied and reached over giving me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. I held her tight for a little longer and then let her go. It was something we did every time we left each other. Even though she could hardly remember Danny, she still felt the loss I did and it was important to us to have that hug, it was our thing. Restarting the engine, I sat there and watched Ally in my rear view mirror until she disappeared from sight. I did that every time as well, as long as she was in my sight, I had to know that she was safe.

The drive to work was long. Located an hour outside Venice Beach, Aldridge Juvenile Detention Centre contained the worst of the worst. It was the Chino of Juvi, the place where kids of the most horrific crimes went, the place of hate. But this is what drove me; helping people is hard but helping people who don’t want to be helped is even harder. However, it was my mission to make that difference and no matter what, I wouldn’t give up. Some have asked me, ‘what was the point?’ Kids don’t listen, they’re a law unto themselves. That always amused me, I thought, ‘what? So adults listen?’ Of course the answer was ‘no’ and the adults in Chino were too far gone and I didn’t feel safe in that environment considering my past. There’s an old saying, ‘cut off the head and the body will die.’ Well, that may be true, but I came from the reversed point of view, ‘starve the body and leave the head twitching.’ That was my aim, to get to these kids while they were still young, while they still had the mind to relearn, so the body couldn’t grow and feed the ignorant, hate inspired head which drew its minions. I wise man once said that we cannot completely destroy evil, but we can keep it at bay and that was my intention.

Hang's rewrite (FULL)

 American bullet.

 A/N: In the story there are part where people calling each other brother Three, uncle Five, uncle Eight Su. This is how southern Vietnamese call each other. "Su" in uncle Eight Su is given name. Three, Five, Eight are kind of title depend on what position in the family or the village they are.

I still couldn't believe that I was killed until I felt no longer belong to my body, no more warmth could I feel from the air. I was killed, one shot in the head by my most beloved one, unbelievable. This whole mess was… unbelievable.

Southern Vietnam in the early of 1960s was chaos. Our village was already so poor when the government came and took the rest of the food. I was only four. All I could remember was my mom hugging a soldier’s leg, begging him to leave us some rice. “My child, please have mercy for my child. I beg you. Please think of the poor boy.” She said, voice trembled in tear but nothing she could do to get back what was taken. He kicked her over and over, tried to shake her off. I remember he said something like “be honourable” and “for the nation”. And then they left, the soldiers, with our food, drained our village to its last drop. Nothing left for us to live onto. That night Kim’s mother and mine left us and head to the wood. Kim was crying when her mother gave her to me, “she hasn’t got anything to eat for the whole day, the poor girl” she said, I could see her trying so hard not to cry. My mother gave us two tiny roll of burned rice leftover from yesterday and then they left. Kim cried louder and I couldn’t help but join her. I was four years old and Kim was two at the time.

As we grew up, we’d gotten used to the sign of the soldier coming to the village to take away the food. It wasn’t a pain to people anymore, as if giving their food away is a part of their life, produce food, give them away, produce more food and then give them away. Before we even know how to talk, we already know field work. Before we could even harvest the rice, they are already taken away. In the end of the day, the girls followed their mother to the wood, and brought home some wild vegetable and bulbs. Thanks to that, we continued on living.

One day, as mother gave us half of her dinner as usual, father refused it and said to her “We can’t live like this any longer. I can’t live on feeling like eating your blood, your flesh like this anymore. You eat it.” Mother looked at him, she started to sob “But dear, if you don’t eat enough, you won’t be able to work, we won’t get enough food for the soldiers, they will kill us.” “I will think of something,” he said, “can’t be poor forever.” He said, and the next morning he disappeared, and the morning after that, and the whole week, and the whole month, and one day he came back, his shirt filled with red colour spots, he gave us a bag of rice and then run away without saying anything. The next day soldiers came again, with time with some big white foreigners.

"Search for the VC", said one of the white men, in a language that we did not understand. "They ought to be from somewhere around here."

So the soldiers went to search the village and the villagers was bought to the center yard.

"What is going on?" One village elder asked as everyone else looked clueless to the soldier.

"Our men was killed around here." One of the soldiers said, his eyes looked down on  our elder. Mother held my hand tight, so tight that it gave me the feeling she would fall if I shake it off.

"Is everyone here?" A soldier asked. No one said a word. "I asked if everyone was here?" He shouted. Mother's hand was shaking so hard.

"Sir, I find this." A soldier stomped out from our house, carrying the bag of rice my father left us.

"Whose house is that?" The white men asked in the foreign language and one of the soldiers asked us in Vietnamese. Mother no longer held my hand. The soldiers looked at all of us.

"I repeat, whose house is that?" Everyone was too scared to answer. A loud bang came from the group of soldiers. Someone fell down with a bullet pinned in his head, and women started to scream. "I give you another chance to tell me whose house that is." Mother broke down and crawled over to hug the nearest soldier's legs.

"I beg you, I have no idea. I beg you, I did not know my husband would dare to commit such crime. I swear to heavenly gods above, I beg for your forgiveness."

The soldiers quickly translated what my mother said to the white men and came back to my mother. "Where is he?"

"I don't know, he ran away, he did not say anything."

The soldier looked at the white man that stood at the center and shook his head. The white man stared at my mother for some second and said something.

"Tell him to show himself in one week or she will pay for his crime instead. We're being very understanding here. We could have kill you all for keeping such criminal in this village."

They took mother away and left. I stood still. Too scare to stop them from taking her away. I could feel my tear fell down from my eye. It was not from fear, it was from hate, I hate them, I hate... myself.

That night Kim's parents came to our house, Kim followed them. Her father took my hands and held them tight in his.

"You're already fifteen right, Thuy?" He said.

I nodded.

"Kim is already thirteen. It's about time for you kid to get together."

I stared at him, confused.

"You might think this is not the right time to talk about this, Thuy. But these days, no one knows when will they take our life. Take Kim away and move on, my son, we at least want our blood to live on with you two."

I couldn't open my mouth to say anything.

"I know what happened today was hard on you." He continued. "But no one blame your father for what happened. We all know about him joining the Viet Cong. He did that for you, for your mother, for us."

"So you all know what happened but me?" My anger burst out. "Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because brother Three knew that you would follow him. What would happen to your mother if you both went?"

"What happens to my mother now?"

"Calm down, son. I know how you feel. I'm going to set off to look for you father. Your mother will be here in no time." Kim's father looked into my eyes and assure me. "But promise me, if anything happens to us. Take Kim and go."

He stared at me and waited for my promise. I looked at Kim's mother and she nodded at me. I looked at Kim and her eyes beg me to stop her father from going.

"I will look for father. You stay."

"No, If anything happens to you what will I tell brother Three?"

"What if anything happens to you?"

"I have been living long enough, Thuy. And aunt Five Tu and Kim understand why I have to do this. You have a long life ahead, Thuy. And you have to take care of your aunt and Kim for me. No more arguing. Now promise me you will take care of them."

"Uncle Five..."

"Promise, Thuy. Promise me." His hand held me tighter than before. His voice sound unshakable. Kim looked at me with watery eyes. "Please." Her eyes asked me. I shook my head.

"I promise."

Kim burst into tear.

The next day he set off. Kim didn't come to see him. "That girl..." Uncle Five let out a long sigh. "I leave everything in your hand, son. I will be back as soon as possible with your father."

I nodded and bid him farewell. That day when the sun went down, there wasn't any sign of uncle Five. The next day, when the sun went down, Kim stood still at the village road, looking longingly to the wood. The next day, aunt Five told me to come and have dinner with them, Kim asked when uncle will come home. For the entire week, I worked on the field for both mine and Kim's family. There's no news from uncle Five nor from my parents.

"I wonder if things are alright. A week has passed, hasn't it?" Aunt Five said during dinner.

"What if uncle Five can't find my father? What will happen to my mother?" I asked but more to myself than to aunt Five.

"She will be alright, Thuy. Your father won't leave her."

"Then what will they do to him when he turns up?"

Aunt Five didn't answer but I think I could imagine the scenerio. We continued dinner in silence and I left to go back to my house after that. The night was cool and clear. I looked up and saw the sky filled with sparking star. If only this war had not happened, this would have been a perfect night. I wondered what the soldiers saw when they looked up the sky. Did they see stars? Did they see choppers? Or did they see people who they had killed during the day? Or did they see anything at all? And then I thought about my father. What did he see? I shook my thought off and opened the front door to my house. It was pit black and empty.

It was very early in the morning that I was waken up by the sound of people yelling and screaming in the village. I quickly put on some clothes when aunt Five pushed the door opened and pulled Kim in.

"Aunt Five, what is happening in the village?"

"The soldiers are here and they are really angry. They shoot everyone they see. You and Kim go now."

"Why? What's happened?"

"No time to talk. Head to the wood and do not come back."

She pushed us to the back door and turned back to the village.

"Remember your words to uncle Five, Thuy. Go and do not head back. Don't let anyone see you."

Kim cried after her mother and tried to follow her but she came back to me as aunt Five looked at her in the eyes as if she said "If you don't go, your father and I will never forgive you."

I took Kim's hand and left for the wood, tried to hid ourselves behind bushes. We walked and walked, deeper into the wood. Too scared to stop or look back. What mattered now was to live. The sound of the gun faded into distance. Everything sank into silence and the only sound left was the sound of us walking on dead branches on the ground, and the sound of the morning birds, looking for something to eat.

"Are you hungry, Kim?" I asked when I thought we were finally safe.

Kim nodded.

"Stay here. I will look for something. Don't go anywhere."

She nodded again  and I left her on the rock near there and head off to the river. In this area the river was the richest resource. Back then, during lunch break when the field was too hot to work on, the boys set off to the river to swim and look for fishes, sometimes water snakes. Along the river there grew a lot of bushes that bore fruit for the whole year. Birds often came here to find food, too. Every child that lived on this wood knew what was edible and what was not. I walked along the river, collecting a big bunch of fruit that I used my shirt to hold when I heard sound coming from the wood. I quickly hid myself in a nearby bush.

"They should still be there looking around for more of us." One of the people coming from the wood said. "If we act together, we can take them down to revenge for brother Three and sister Three."

"I can't believe that they would swallow their words and come back to kill everyone. Luckily I ran through the back door." I could recognize the voice of uncle Eight living in the back of the village. "Poor brother Five and sister Five. The Nguy soldiers thought that they worked for us. They killed both of them with brother Three and sister Three, too."

"How's about the kids?" One of the people asked. He didn't sound like someone from around here. He have northern accent.

"Didn't see them. I think they ran away."

"You go look for them, Eight Su. You know their face. Bring them to the headquarter and take care of them."  The man with northern accent said. "The rest go with me to the village. Prepare to fight."

When the others left, uncle Eight set off, too. I got out of my hiding place and called for him. He ran to me and quickly check if I was alright then as a sight of relief, he hugged me tight.

"My god, you are alright, Thuy. I'm so sorry about your parents."

"I didn't have a chance to see them for the last time. Aunt Five told us to leave..."

"That's good, at least you don't have to see what's happened. So where is Kim?"

"She is waiting in the wood. I came here to look for some food."

"Let's go get her and we bring you two to a safer place."

Then we walked together into the wood. I followed uncle Eight. All those time in that small village and I didn't recognize he worked for the Viet Cong. Like I didn't know where my father ran off to. I didn't know that our village was helping those people. I didn't know anything. I shook off my thought and ran toward the rock where I left Kim. Kim wasn't there. "Are you sure this is where you left her?" I nodded and kept looking for a trace of Kim. She wasn't anywhere near here anymore.

"Do you think she went back to the village?" I asked uncle Eight.

"That foolish girl." He said. "I bring you to the headquarter first and I will look for her."

"I can come with you."

"No, Thuy. It's dangerous and brother Three won't forgive me if I let his son die."

He gestured me to come with him. I looked through his wide shoulder toward where he was heading to. That was where my father stayed when he left home. What kind of people were they? Why did father follow them? What good did they bring to us, to the village? In the end everything was gone. My parents were gone. My village were gone. All because of them. I kept walking with those thought in mind, with those hate in mind. What all of them did was just talking everything away from us villagers, all of those soldiers were just the same.

"We are here, Thuy." Uncle Eight said, pulling me out of my thought. It was a small camp hidden among the rocks and the trees.

"Eight Su. How's thing going? And this is?" The only one person left in the camp said when he saw the sight of me and uncle Eight.

"This is Thuy, brother Three Ngu's son." Uncle Eight said. "And this is Tuan, he came down here from the north, Thuy. He is here to help. I should go look for Kim now. You are here with Tuan, alright?"

Tuan shook my hand and brought me into one of the tent in the camp. He was taller than most people I have ever seen, his skin was light and his hair was tidy. I could say he was a handsome man, just a bit older than me I guessed. But what impressed me the most was his bright eyes, those that only came from people who loved their life and had hope for future. Tuan gave me a bow of cold rice porridge.

"Sorry but we only have this here. Eat up. We haven't got time to cook anything for breakfast. It was a mess this morning. I'm sorry about your parents."

I looked at him and my eyes filled with hate. Of course he should be sorry, this whole mess was because of them, of the Viet Cong.

Tuan looked at me and I thought he could guess what I felt from my eyes because he then sat down next to me.

"I know this whole mess shouldn't be here. But we, like your father, thought fighting back was the only way to find freedom. They took too much, not only from our life, also from our country. They are trying to drain everything from our country, Thuy. They are trying to drain everything from our people. They are trying to drain us to our last drop of blood."

"Without you guys, no one died."

"Yet, no one died yet, Thuy. Don't you see what your father see? We fight for a better life, we fight so that the next generation won't have to suffer. Anyway... I should let you eat. Rest for now, Thuy."

Tuan left the tent. I saw him standing at the gate of the camp, looking toward the village. Sometimes he walked around the place impatiently and his eyes fixed at the wood. Would the soldiers from the Republic government worry about our mere villagers? Didn't all what they do us was taking our life away. I drunk the rice porridge to the last drop and lied down, thinking about what Tuan said to me. I didn't remember when I felt asleep but I remember that I was looking at the night sky in my dream. The night sky dyed with blood but there were still a star shining brightly, the star of hope.

Uncle Eight couldn't find Kim anywhere that day. Not a trace, not even corpse, so we believed that she was still alive. I asked him if I could go look for her but he wanted me to stay and help them. That day at the village they lost many men and reinforcement wouldn't come anytime soon. I thought about what Tuan said to me. It wasn't right to leave Kim alone out there. But it wasn't right to leave our people suffering either. If uncle Five was here, would he understand, I wondered. But I decided to stay. If Kim were still alive when we free our country, she would understand and forgive me for leaving her out there alone.

The troop moved around the forest part of the Mekong delta from time to time to flee from the enemy. Each time we stayed in a new place, I took time to asked around the villages for Kim but she was nowhere to be found. Southern Vietnam at the beginning of the 1970s was a total mess. The Nguy government was trying desperately to look for any trace of us. They killed everyone they thought that was Viet Cong, they destroyed the whole area to look for us, they buy our people's loyalty with money, but none could kill our fighting spirit. The Americans started to leave and that left us a lot of space to walk around.

1975, the American couldn't hold us down anymore. One day in Spring, when I was having some drink with my friend in Saigon, some prostitute from a nearby bar walked in and sat next to us.

"She was a lucky girl, the white man bought her straight away."

"Kim was a good girl, she deserves it." The oldest said.

"Are you saying that we are not good girls?" One girl said and everyone was laughing out loud.

As the name "Kim" reached my ear, a strange feeling ran through my vain. It had been four years almost and how could I forget. I stood up and walked to the girls.

"Would you mind tell me more about this girl Kim?" I talked to the girls and called out the waiter to order drink for everyone.

"She came to Dreamland a week ago." One of the girl said.

"I think she was from the West, her accent suggested it." Another girl came in.

"How old is she?" I asked, nervously.

"She said she was seventeen. Such a cutie."

My heart skipped a bit. Kim would be seventeen if she was still alive now.

"She told us her parents died some years ago."

"Poor girl, how long ago?"

"I think she said four years about."

It could be her, it was probably her, it must be her.

"Where is she now?"

"Oh, come on, she is getting married to the American tomorrow, you wouldn't stand a chance." The girls laughed. "How about choosing one of us?"

"She could be my lost sister." I lied.

"Oh poor boy, aren't you?" The girls said. "We could take you to her wedding with us."

"It's ok I will come by myself. I had some business at that time." I said and they gave me the address of the girl with the same name with my Kim.

I followed the address the next day. It was a tidy streets in the center of the city that was built for the American troop. Unlike the worn-out houses in the poor and dirty suburb, houses here was big and clean. So this was where they spent our money, our food. I thought and felt my veins boiled with anger. But this wasn't why I came here. I walked toward the house with the address the prostitutes gave me. It wasn't hard to find. There was loud music coming from the house and the noise of people talking, cheering the newly wed's couples.

I walked in, looking for the owners of the house among the crowd. And there I saw a familiar face. The face of the girl I promised to take care of her for life. But next to her stood a big white man, one looked similar to those that came to take my mother away.

"Kim..."

She looked at me terrified.

"You're here, at last. I have come to bring you home. Tell them to go away, come with me, you will be safe from now."

"This girl is mine." The American pull Kim to him and cover her behind his big shoulder.

"Yours?" I looked at him. This is ridiculous. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?" He asked at the same time.

"Stop." Kim finally said something, and she walked up between us.

"Kim, who is this man? Do you see that he is Americans? This is madness, they are losing the battle, they will soon be gone."

"Get out of here." The American yelled at me but who cared? I was not going to get out of here unless Kim told me so.

"Thuy, I'm not a prize to be claimed. That promise my father made was from I was thirteen. Four year has passed and I am no longer that Kim you used to know."

"That promised was bond by our parents, that was our fate. You knew I would come back to get you, why did you left? Why didn't you wait?"

"My parents died and it was all your fault. If there were promised, all of them died when they died."

"No more nonsense talk." I pulled out my gun. "Leave that man now."

The American pulled out his gun, too. "She is not leaving here, you are the one who leave."

Kim stood still in front of us, her eyes stared at me with hate and pain. "Go on and shoot, would you? I won't change my mind, I won't leave his side."

"Kim, you are mine. I promised to your father that I will take care of you and I will do that until I die."

"I'm not yours anymore and I care no longer about that promise."

"You are still mine until we die." I was boiled with rage? Why do they have to take everything? Why can't Kim see it? That American was not an ally, he was enemy. "Saigon will fall soon. And so is he."

"Get the hell out of here." The America shouted and shot. The shot missed me but it drew the attention of people near by.

"If uncle was alive, he would never forgive this, Kim. Never." I uttered the last words and ran off the house. Unbelievable.

There wasn't much time to think of Kim and the American. The war drew end and we decided to attack with full force. The president of Saigon decided to surrender in the end of April and the long war finally ended. I finally could look at the sky again and saw my parents, uncle and aunt Five and the villagers behind those star. Spring finally came with peace. I heard the Americans fled not long after I left Kim with that GI. I wonder if Kim have gone with him or not? We had taken back everything from the America but Kim, my Kim.

For three years there wasn't any moment I forget about Kim and the promised I made with uncle Five. I became a commissar now, the government gave me everything I have ever wished for now but they couldn't bring Kim back to me. Not long after we took over Saigon, I heard people said that Americans fled without bringing any of the Vietnamese family members with them. So they left them behind, he left Kim behind. Then where was Kim now? She didn't have any family to rely on. She didn't have a home. Foolish girl, she should have come with me.

"Sir," A soldier knocked on my door.

"Come in." I said. "What's that?"

"This man claimed to know the location of miss Kim."

"And who might he be?"

"I'm the Engineer of Dreamland bar, sir." The man said.

Dreamland bar, wasn't it where  Kim used to work at? I looked at the man. He was a small dirty man, his hair was messy and his eyes gave me the feeling of disgust. This is one of those that you could never trust.

"How can I trust you?"

"I never lie, sir. I only speak what I know." I looked at him distrusted.

"I can bring you to her, if only..."

"If only what?"

"If only you could clear my name..."

"Whatever. Bring me to her and I spare your life."

We set off and followed the direction of the Engineer. Even though I didn't trust him at all. A little light in this situation is better than none. We crossed the main streets to the slum, everywhere, people were celebrating independent day. Marching songs, music echoed all over the place. I followed the Engineer to a small dirty tent.

"Is she here?"

"She definitely is." He entered the tent. "Hello princess, and don't ask how I found you. I'm here to bring you back up again. I bring a puppy who would do anything to have you. Should we team up?"

"I don't want to see you here, Engineer. I never want to go back to that life." I heard that familiar voice come up from the tent, it was her. Definitely her.

"Kim, it's been three years." I entered the tent. "We finally meet."

 "I found her for you." The Engineer said.

"Get out."

"I have never stopped think of you, Kim. It's probably fate that bring us together again. I have been waiting for so long for this day of the sun, and I wish to have you with me under that sun. I wish to have you as my wife and fulfil your father's wish."

"I'm sorry, Thuy. And I wish father would also forgive. I wish I could give you what you want of me but this I cannot lie to you." Kim looked at me, I could see in her eyes there was no longer hate. But there was pain, it deeper and greater than I have ever seen.

"Look at me Kim. You will change, time will change. Don't say no to me anymore."

"I'm sorry, Thuy. But I can't stop hoping for the day he came back to me."

"He won't come back anymore, Kim. He ran away and you were the one who was left behind."

"He was right, princess. Smart girls know when to move on. He is a commissar, nothing more you could wish for." The Engineer came in. For just one time I thought he was right. That good for nothing man. But Kim looked away, what a stubborn girl she was. I pulled her to me and tried to get her look at me.

"Stop looking away. I can end this shame, I can end your pain. Just say "yes". You hear those soldiers out there? They'll do whatever I say."

"I can't change how I feel, Thuy."

"Then hear what they say. I don't think you can't change." I have never felt angrier. What did American do to this girl. Did she remember who killed her parents? "Come in soldier. Tell this girl what she really is. Show her what Americans have done to us. Show her that we will never forgive, that this wound might be healed but the scars won't fade away. Show that to the American whore."

"Nothing will change the love for my husband. He will come back to take me." She shouted.

"Don't you remember who brought pain to this country, to your parents? It's him, it's the Americans. Now come with me will you or will you not?"

"I can't." Kim started to cry. "I'd rather die. There is only one reason that keep me alive for all those year, if you want to know why I can't go with you, I will show you now."

She walked to the small worn-out bed in the corner and took the blanket off. Under the blanket was the last thing I would ever want to see. A boy, a half-blood boy.

"Tam." She called out his name, the name of the enemy's son. "Thuy, this is why I can't come with you."

"This is a cursed child, Kim."

"Do not call my son that."

"You know what?" I could not hold on anymore, all of this madness must end now, with this bastard child. "This child cannot live. He will die now, and you come with me." I pulled out my pocket knife.

"You are not touching my son." She shouted.

"When he's gone, you will forget and you will be able to live a new life."

"Do not touch my son!" She uttered one word after the other and pulled out a gun. The American's gun.

"What you do with that now?" I shouted at her. "Kill me? Kill you cousin? With that loser's gun?"

"If you touch my son then you leave me no choice."

"Stand out of this." I walked toward Kim and the boy. She wouldn't kill. She wouldn't know how to. Or at least that was what I thought when she pull that trigger.

She looked at me terrified, her eyes filled with more pain. She threw the gun and took the boy. They ran away. Americans couldn't kill me during the war so now they use her to take my life. I wonder what was left for me in the end? I recalled what Tuan told me before "They are trying to drain us to our last drop of blood." Not even one drop of blood. Not even one person of the family.