Read Online Monsoon by Di Morrissey - Free Book Online

thoi tho au means young memories before bad times. These are things wished to go back to after the war. Vietnamese people are very family and community people, and being displaced and losing their home and relatives make them very sad,’ said Hung, looking at his uncle.
    â€˜I’m thinking Kieu’s story sounds very contemporary,’ sighed Sandy. ‘There are a lot of lost young people in western society who have made choices that haven’t worked out but can’t go back.’
    Captain Chinh rose and excused himself to check the boat then bunk down. ‘Hung stay here and watch the wind and the sea. But it will be safe. Very calm,’ he assured them.
    â€˜Anyone for a cuppa? I brought some tea bags from home with me,’ said Tom.
    â€˜I’m happy with the wine for now. But I’d love one in the morning, thanks, Tom,’ said Anna. ‘I can’t come at green tea for brekkie.’
    After Tom bade them good night, the two friends sat on the deck watching the light of the rising moon glimmering behind what they’d named Pagoda Peak.
    â€˜What’s that?’ Anna pointed to a faint drift of moonlit white swirling between the smaller peaks jutting from the sea around them. They watched it waft down and across the sea, blurring the crevices and intricately weathered cliff face closest to them, like a distant sprite.
    â€˜It must be mist like Tom said. I feel the temperature dropping. I think I might hit my bunk,’ yawned Sandy.
    â€˜This is looking scary. I remember years ago some old black-and-white movie on TV,’ said Anna. ‘There was a ghost ship, covered in moss and wispy white stuff floating in this weird fog; no one was on board. I think aliens had got them. This does seem like we’re on another planet.’
    â€˜Oh, for god’s sake,’ laughed Sandy. ‘There’s probably a dozen boats around the corner. Most of them moor out here for the night. It’s a two-day excursion, remember.’
    â€˜You’d think we’d hear noises . . . sound carries across water,’ said Anna.
    â€˜Come to bed.’ Sandy put down her glass. ‘Good night, Hung.’ She waved at the dim outline of Hung sitting cross-legged on the deck. He lifted an arm, the red glow of a cigarette in his hand.
    Anna woke wondering what time it was, aware of the gentle swing of the old wooden junk on its anchor chain. She lay there for a short time but felt wide awake. She listened to the unfamiliar noises, a slow symphony of creaks and slapping water. It was as if the old junk was wheezing in its slumber. A metal clink, a soft thud, and was that a footfall? Hung in the galley making tea? Anna waited a few more minutes but, knowing she wasn’t going to get to sleep, decided to go up on deck. She went through the main saloon with its dining table and built-in long seats that doubled as storage. A small wall lamp glowed. She quietly climbed up the wide ladder, but before stepping out onto the deck she glanced around. There was a soft breeze; the moon was high but filtered through the light mist that drifted low above the surface of the water. She glanced to where the green light hung on the starboard cross arm and suddenly imagined that the nearby craggy peak spearing out of the sea was wavering. At first glance it seemed that the monolith might crumble and fall but it looked more like it was swaying, an illusion caused by the sea mist.
    It was eerie and she was about to turn and go below when she heard the soft murmur of voices. Was Captain Chinh taking over his shift from Hung? Dawn seemed a long way off.
    Anna poked her head above the raised cockpit, looking through the rigging, and saw the slim outline of Hung, but the other shape was not Captain Chinh or the Australian man, Tom. Snatches of conversation came on the wind but she didn’t understand what they were saying and wished Sandy were there to translate. There was something