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
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.