Her Own Story

By Nguyen Thi Van Anh

The last sun rays of the day are still hovering over the violet firmament of dust, but in her small and narrow room, Hong sees the light has almost disappeared. Slowly, the darkness is getting more and more profound. She sit like a stone in front of a cold round tray of meals on the table. It has been long since the school was over but her son has not come yet. Is this something to worry about? She shivers from the chill.

Suddenly the door opens and slams against the stool placed inside the room. Hong stands up like an uncoiled spring. The bright light from the electric bulb in the middle of the room shines out on his pale, flushed face, as he stands with a school bag in one hand and the other resting on the edge of the table. His 15-year-old voice was trembling with anger.

"Mother, you've always taught me not to lie. Nothing in life is more terrible than deceit, you said. Then why did you lie now? I've just heard that you are not on leave but have been sacked.

"My child, my child..." She cannot breathe and the words that would justify and make her son understand seemed stuck in her throat. She is falling like a dying palm. The pain seems to rise and choke her chest. She bursts into uncontrollable sobs.

The boy is also out of breath, as if he has run a long way. His face is wet with tears. "Did you do anything wrong? You've made me ashamed in front of my friends. How can I work as a monitor and shout at them now?"

The son throws his school bag on bed with a thump and walks away. She hurries after him. "My dear Duc, let me tell you everything so that you'll understand."

He runs down the stairs as if he is escaping something. She returns to the table and sits there, petrified. The cold, round meal tray is impassively in front, with two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks placed in their proper places. It is the first time that he has returned from school without the sound of merry laughter.

Hong, instead of being angry with him, pities him. It is she who has fostered his honesty, straightforwardness and pure life style. Like a bamboo shoot full of life, the son has grown straight up into the blue sky. In the street, at school, everywhere he is cherished and respected. Since the first grade he has been always an excellent pupil and the class monitor. When he was thirteen, he was the first school pupil to become a member of the Pioneer's Union. She is proud of him, and loves him more than anything else in this world. She has happily sacrificed everything for him.

She can have remarried and enjoyed a marital bliss after Duc's father became a martyr. That was when Duc was less than a year old and she was still a beautiful young woman, then. A young man had wooed and proposed to her. She had refused, saying he was only 27 while she was 30 and had a son. He had persisted. "Women attain their full beauty only when they are 30. For me you are more attractive than all the 18-year-old girls. I sincerely want to build a family with you, Hong."

When they were together, she had rested her head on his robust chest. And once she'd caught his displeased look when he looked at her and her child. Her heart chilled up. She understood that, as he had never been a father, it was difficult for him to accept the trouble of a child who was not of the same blood relationship. His love was selfish, and he would not share her feelings for her child. She bit her lips and retreated from his affectionate embrace. She resigned herself to staying single so that her child could grow up in happiness.

Many other men had come to her later, but she worried about her son's safety. Her youth quietly passed away. When one waited day after day for one's child to become mature, one was merrily welcoming one's old age. The day when Duc returned home with the Union's badge, the realization struck her suddenly: "My son is an adolescent now, and I am on the wrong side of 40."

That day, he had told his mother: "When I go to work, I will join the Party and become a Party member like you. Then we will be comrades." They had burst laughing together. Tears of joy had filled her eyes. As a mother, she was a mirror for her child to look into. She had always tried to be an example for him, living a life of integrity, honesty, and progress. Duc had grown up as she wished. Never were they dissatisfied with each other.

But, today... Duc, it is true that I lied to you. Why should I lie to my son when I've done nothing wrong. Duc is right. For avoiding all the rhetoric and telling the naked truth, they have sacked me... They, the scoundrels!

It is not just her, everybody in the office knew of the deceitful character of chief accountant, Tran Ha. He is directly in charge of her section. There are two things in life that breed sins: money and women. He is involved in both. People in her section and other divisions have not only talked about him but insulted him at any get-together around at tea time. To many people he is popular as "Hen Ha" (scoundrel). The trouble is that his brother-in-law is in charge of the personnel section so everyone should watch his or her mouth.

She does not want to criticize him behind his back. She wants to tell Tran Ha what everyone thinks of him. That is the honest and decent thing to do. But she keeps putting it off, searching for an opportune moment to do it. She is afraid to meet him in private, remembering the lust in his eyes when he approached her one day.

At last she finds an opportunity when the Party "clean-up" campaign is launched. Every one in her office is stunned by her nerve. Her inviolable boss, who is under direct attack for the first time, sits stupefied, with a silly grin on his face. A moment later, he rallies, saying sweetly: "Thank you, Ms. Hong, for your concern. I ask you to give me some time to investigate what you've said, then I will accept your criticism. Now, please let others continue with their opinions. Time is running out."

As no one wants to get involved, they merrily shift to other topics.

A month later, when the campaign has died down, the head of her section asks her to come to his office. Meeting him she is surprised at his cold expression. "Ms. Hong, last time you made some criticism and that you said it reflected the opinion of the masses. Then who are the masses, please tell me."

"They are people in our section and others."

"Please tell me their names."

"I can't... because I don't want to create trouble. What is important for you is to consider what I said and see whether it was true or not. I will take all the responsibility if I was wrong."

"You have to name the people," Tran Ha slams his fist on the table, and raises his voice. "If you can't name anybody, you are guilty of slander."

The trap has been set without her knowledge. Naively and sincerely, she has named the people who has spoken ill of him. Tran Ha's eyes were bloodshot. He calls them and shouts at them in a threatening voice: "According to Hong, you were loafing during office hours and speaking ill of the leadership. Is that right?"

They, of course, do not know what had happened at the Party cell meeting, because they are not Party members. All those who are summoned are horrified, and they look at her as if she is a spy. Of course, they all deny saying anything. And strictly speaking, they cannot be disproved. A meeting is convened, as a matter of urgency it comprise members of various organizations. They ask her to make a statement of self-criticism about her slanderous words which have caused disunity in the office. She does not oblige and insisted that the matter be brought to the Party cell. She does not expect that very few people support her. And now she understands one painful reality. Many Party members, who are not afraid to face death, who have not been subdued by the enemy, easily kneel down in front of authority, and are not courageous enough to struggle against the mistakes of their comrades.

A week later, the head of the personnel section asks her to come to his office. The director is present. He plunges straight in "You read the newspapers and listen to the radio, so you must know about the central Government's policy to streamline staff."

"Yes."

The director asks her seriously: "What do you think of this new policy?"

"I think it is a correct policy, because our administrative machinery is too cumbersome."

The head of the personnel section says smoothly: "Comrade Hong, you have worked for 25 years. We know that when you were in the shock youth brigade you made a lot of sacrifices for the homeland, you even shed your blood and broke your bones. We highly value those contributions. That is why we have the responsibility to care for your health. We have discussed the matter among the leadership of the office. We should avail ourselves of the opportunity when the State does not pay too much about attention procedures, to create conditions for you to retire. We have fulfilled the regulations for your retirement. You will receive one hundred per cent of your salary as retirement benefit. Besides, you will have a handsome pension."

The director laughs heartily. "And you are the first to benefit from the policy. Alas, how I wish I could retire. There is so much tension in my work. You are Number One, Hong! You will get your fill, so you can find other work to do. Your income will be many times ours."

She feels nauseated at their hypocrisy. She wants to spit in their faces. But the sudden anger chokes her. Her limbs are numb. She sits motionless for a moment. Afraid of any explosion going to happen, they hurriedly stand up.

"That's all, Ms. Hong! Now, we have to go to the ministry for a meeting."

The next day they send her the decision about her retirement accompanied by a letter of introduction to the cell of the party of the precinct where she lives.

She spends three days at home, unable to get up. On the fourth day, she rises, and writes a petition to the higher authorities claiming her right to work as an ordinary state official. These letters ware sent back to the leadership of her office to reconsider. Who else to ask for help?

One day she remembers the Viet Nam Women's Union. Hong believes only those of the same gender can understand her case, sympathize with her and protect her. She knocks every door at the union headquarters with a petition in hand. A charming woman in pajamas receives her in the drawing room. After reading the letter, the woman raises her eyebrows slightly. "So, they did not cut down your salary, and you can earn all of it?"

"Yes."

"So, it is very kind of them, isn't it?"

"I don't need that false kindness! I want to claim my right to work. I want to return to my old position.

The union official sighs. "Oh. It is difficult to raise this problem while the whole country is streamlining. If only you were beaten up back and blue, we could immediately defend you."

"Good Heavens!" She let out a painful cry. "Don't you see that the underlying injury is much more painful?"

She rushes out of the room, and runs into the path of a motorbike. Luckily, the driver is not speeding, and manages to control his vehicle. ***

At the hospital, it is a fine, shining day.

I have come to see Dr. Hung, who is in charge of the mental health department to enquire about a patient whose case is being studied by the inspection commission. Fortunately, the doctor is sitting in the ladies ward, reading the patient's history. He is quite friendly.

"Good morning. I would like to introduce you to Ms. Hong. Though she is three years younger than me, she is in charge of my shock brigade group. If you want to write about the heroic wonderful stories of Truong Son you can talk to her. We are just talking about those stories. It was long ago, fifteen years have passed already, right?"

I look at the thin pale woman who has the same name as the one I want to meet. We have hardly greeted each other when I look right into her face. She looks out through the window. A group of people are approaching the ward. One man, about 50 years old, is approaching with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand, while young women who are accompanying him are talking merrily.

Hong says: "I'm sorry, doctor and journalists. I feel a bit dizzy, having sat for too long. The sleeping pills I took seem to be taking effect. Allow me to take my leave."

Dr. Hung guides to a bench in the corridor next to the ward. As we sit down, some people come. The man approaches Hong's bed, and put the flowers into a vase on the small table next to her bed. He says in a voice full of commiseration: "She is sleeping. What a pity, she has thinned out so quickly."

A stout woman of about 40 years old puts her plastic bag on the floor and fans herself with her hat. She says: "Let her sleep, don't wake her up. What a pity. She has had a tragic life."

The patient is lying with her face turns to the wall. Suddenly, she twists and stands up, shouting: "Go away! All of you!"

All of them leave hurriedly. So does the stout woman who in such a situation she forgets her bag and sandals behind. Her face is bloodless. Hong bursts into laughter. Tears run down her cheeks. The man says hastily to Dr. Hung: "Look, doctor, she is in delirium. Please keep her dormant, otherwise she will disturb all the people around her."

The stout woman looks in fear that she is huddling behind the doctor."Doctor, please help me to get me my bag and sandals."

Dr. Hung gently takes her hand and helps her lie down on the bed again. "Let me get you the medicine, Hong," says the doctor.

"Thank you, brother Hung. It doesn't matter." Her voice has returned to normal but she is as sober as when she was chatting with us. "You understand better than anybody else that I am not insane. I am mad only in their eyes, because I do not act as they wish."

Then she tells me her story. I understood why she has stood up so fiercely. The man who has brought her flowers is Tran Ha himself. And the women who came with him are his disciples who had conspired to drive Hong out of the office. Now they came here to cover up their act of infamy.

Doctor Hung looks at Hong with affection. In an undertone he says: "Hong, don't burden yourself with so much thought because it will give you sleepless nights and give you headache. Our journalist friend has told me that the Inspection board is reconsidering your case after receiving letters from colleagues who understand and defend you. I'm sure everything will be settled fairly. Tonight I will go to see your son and tell him about the unforgettable days we spent at Truong Son during the war against the U.S. I will help him understand the complexity of life today. I believe he will get over his initial shock and understand his mother properly. I will also go to the Inspection board to clarify your condition."

I look at him. He is about 50 years old but and still a bachelor. He would certainly be a shore for the boat which as been ambushed by a storm.

Hong suddenly rises and turns to me with a frightened look. "My office problem is my own business. Don't blow it up in your newspaper," she says.

But I have taken notes, and do not believe that it was purely her own business. ***

-- From Viet Nam News/ANN

Translated by Hoang Tuy