Read Online The Darkest Little Room by Patrick Holland - Free Book Online Page B

smiled. ‘I regard you.’
    I watched the motorbike turn the corner out of this street I did not know and walked back upstairs.

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    I called her phone the next day at lunch. She said she would meet me. I rode down to the river and met her getting out of a taxi. I thought she would have had more trouble getting away.
    â€˜Em ở đây thế nào?… How are you here, sister? I thought I would have had to come and get you.’
    â€˜Äá»«ng hỏi … Do not ask.’
    She wore a white ao dai and the jade butterfly clip was in her hair. I wondered but did not ask where she got the dress. She must have seen the question in my eyes. She blushed and said that it had been a gift.
    â€˜Anh nghÄ© rằng em nhin rat ngu ngốc … You think I look silly.’
    I shook my head. I turned away toward the dark, to a barge gliding along the water so she would not see my face.
    â€˜You are beautiful. Did your mother give you the dress?’
    â€˜She is dead. I think she is dead.’
    â€˜A man then?’
    I was jealous.
    â€˜An old woman.’
    Thuy smiled sadly and the wind blew her hair across her eyes and I thought truly she is the most beautiful girl there has ever been.
    â€˜Em sẽ không đi bar … Little sister will not go back to the bar tonight. I am keeping you with me.’
    She laughed and then tears came to her eyes and she wept like a child.
    â€˜Anh la nguoi đàn ông tot … You are a good man,’ she said. There were notes of hope and expectancy in that statement that made it sound like a question. She switched to English and spoke a phrase that seemed awkward and rehearsed, as though garnered from a dictionary so that I should take its full meaning ‘But you must intend what you state to me.’ Then in Vietnamese. ‘Anh hiểu không? … Does brother understand?’
    â€˜There is something I do not understand.’
    It had bothered me all night.
    â€˜The German I mentioned last night. He swore to me that he saw you wounded. Beaten.’
    At once tears trickled down her cheeks and she turned to the river.
    â€˜Tell me what this all means. Is it truth or lie?’
    â€˜Do not say such things or I will leave. I will leave right now.’
    â€˜Was it you he saw?’
    She was silent.
    â€˜He claims to have a picture of it. Are you the girl in his picture?’
    She stared into my eyes.
    â€˜Nguoi ở que của em nói thật … The men of my village spoke truth. Em la phù thuy.’
    â€˜Sister, you are not a witch.’
    â€˜But I am.’
    And I knew by her eyes that she had told me what she believed was the truth. She grimaced as though the pain of the wounds in Hönicke’s lost picture were upon her.
    â€˜There are nights I do not know, and nights when I know it is me.’ She looked again to the river that was swollen tonight with the rains in the north. She wiped her tears. ‘But the wounds … I do not know. They are curses, or miracles. Do not ask again. NhÆ°ng anh Nói thật không, anh sẽ dua em đi? … But will you truly redeem me?’
    â€˜Yes. If you are honest with me.’ Her eyes sparkled. I lowered my own. ‘No. Even if you lie to me. No matter what you are. You can lead me to the gates of Hell and I will stay beside you.’
    â€˜Anh tae hua? … Do you promise this, brother?’
    â€˜ Tae hua … Now come and stay with me. Do not go back.’
    â€˜I must return to the bar once more and never again. I came tonight to hear you make a promise. When I come to you next you must take me out of here forever. Out of the bar, out of this city, out of the country.’
    I nodded.
    She wanted me to hail a taxi, but I insisted I ride her back to District Four. She sat silently with her arms around my waist and her chin on my shoulder watching the afternoon city rush by and then she spoke into