After the Massacre

By: Layth Al-Nadi

The rain from the night before cleaned his canvas of dirt and prepared it to be drawn over again with his crooked stick. He heard his mother's call echo from their yellowing home in the village of Son My, Vietnam.

     "Chi, come to me, please."

Her voice was brittle and croaky, perfectly mirroring her condition. Her hands were rough and dry, her eyes dull and always on the verge of closing, and her hair was beginning to lose its silky black color in exchange for a bold gray near the roots. Stress was one hell of a drug. She tried to make the beginnings of a smile as Chi found his way inside. 

     "I have received word from your father. He is just as eager as you to meet, but he just can't yet. But he did leave this for you."

She reached behind her back and pulled out an American candy bar with a name he couldn't read. Her smile widened on her face as she opened his hand and placed it. Chi stared at it, dumbfounded by the plastic casing. The ideas of what it could be flowed through his mind and the possibilities excited him.

     She lost her smile as she mulled over the child's situation. He was what was called an "Amerasian". When she met his father, they were both visitors in Saigon. He had just graduated out of high school and was travelling with a group of friends before he committed to joining the military, completely convinced he would never see a conflict that would bring him to the Eastern world in his lifetime. Chi was not born during the American invasion, but the village disowned them just the same. The child relied on her and she had to be the brick wall that wouldn't collapse, the last pillar in some Roman architectural wonder that stood the test of time.

     Her arm extended to wave him over to her, a gentle non-verbal "come closer." He handed it back to her and she tugged at the wrapper until it burst. She pinched one end of the bar with her thumb and middle finger and gave it a tug. It had melted and coated her fingers. Chi took the chocolate from his mother, realizing what it was, as she licked the residue off her hands. Chi split it in half and placed her share in the tired hand that she rested on her thigh. She was wrong. She did have someone watching out for her. A smile from both was the prelude to a chuckle from both, followed by a loving embrace.

The massacre of Son My village was only an hour away, and few would survive.