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© 2008 - 2009
Paul G. Bens, Jr.
1975
MINH, 12 & TOAN, 8
A thousand lions. Toan Ngô had never seen one in all of his eight years. Of course, he'd seen much worse: Aunties and Uncles shot down in rice paddies as they worked to provide for children who would soon be dead, village after village and woman after woman raped by stranger after stranger, and something his mother and father called bom na-pan, burning rain, which melted the faces of friends as easily as the noonday sun melted candles. But not a single lion. He was sure they sounded just like this, though, and he pressed his hands to his ears as he stared through a chain link fence at the metal monsters.
All around, Green Men with hard heads and weary eyes carried what Má and Ba called nhiều khẩu sung, those noise sticks, and held back the thousands of desperate people who crowded the airfield. Each of the Green Men screamed over the roaring engines, and each of the thousands screamed back with outstretched hands. Toan could see it all from the safety of his mother's arms and it frightened him. He wished he could be brave like his older brother Minh, who stood firm on the ground, walked on his own and wasn't afraid of beasts, metal or otherwise.
As the family reached the opening in the fence, a Hard Head came forward and shouted over the noise in Vietnamese so broken it almost made Toan laugh. "How...many...in...your...family?"
Toan held up his fingers and Ba answered proudly in a language he barely understood. "Fa."
"Four," Minh shouted as Ba circled his arms around the family. Hard Head nodded, turned toward one of the metallic beasts and held up four of his own fingers to other Hard Heads so very far away.
The fire came right before the thunder. Night became day and even Hard Head fell to the ground and covered himself. The Green Men with noise sticks swarmed, appearing as if out of nowhere and rushing toward the planes as engines growled angrily. All the while Minh stood firm, refusing to cower as the bombs dropped.
Green Men shouted and Hard Head started to push the gate closed. Ba pressed against it with all his might, and Má screamed and water ran down her face. "Too late! Too late." Hard Head shook his head to make them understand.
"Children," Má cried over the din. She held Toan out to Hard Head, and Ba pushed Minh forward.
Toan would never, ever forget this moment. Hard Head looking at Má. Strange, round, tired eyes turning soft. Weary arms surrounding her. Hard Head removing his hard head and placing it on Má's. This and the long walk to the plane while the thousands left behind screamed and bombs dropped. He wasn't Hard Head anymore. He was White Head and he carried Toan all the way to the plane.
"Sank you, sank you," Má and Ba repeated over and over. Minh said nothing, just walked.
The wind from the blades sliced across them, but soon Má, Ba, Minh and Toan were shuffled into the belly of the beast as White Head closed the door behind them.
"Go, go, go," White Head shouted. Toan wasn't sure to whom.
The ground began to move as the belly of the lion shuddered. Outside the tiny window, the sky lit up and home got smaller and smaller.
"You," White Head tousled Toan's dirty hair, "fly...America." He raised his hand into the air.
Toan stared blankly at White Head, at his kind face, his blue eyes, his skin painted as green as lemon grass. "Richard," the soldier shouted. "My name is Richard. Can you say that?"