Sounds from the A a Lat Pine Trees

T. Liem

Description

Three people. Two sisters. One incredible journey. On one side of the world, an adopted girl struggles with physical handicaps, emotional challenges, and a seemingly endless journey to discover her identity. Unbeknownst to her, continents away, her sister desperately looks for a way to reunite their family. Along with them, a soldier fights his own battles long after the war has ended, searching for vindication and some kind of understanding of his noble role in the lives of so many through a time of such turmoil. The decade-long saga leads all three of them through confrontations with present perils and past memories of the war that tore their families and lives apart.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 29 novembre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781645365181
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Sounds from the Đà Lạt Pine Trees
T. Liem
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-11-29
Sounds from the Đà Lạt Pine Trees About The Author Dedication Copyright Information © The Pine Forest The Sanctuary The Promise The Connection The Cup The Retreat The Revelation The Routine The Curve The Haunt The Flight The Breaking Point The Clearing The End The Save The Reunion Closures
About The Author

T. Liem always wants to tell stories about the people of his native country, Vietnam. Subtly but generously, he injected his own memories and feelings into this fictional tale, which is his first attempt at writing a novel. Now retired and living in the Los Angeles area, he enjoys the part-time teaching job, watching movies, and the company of his children when they drop in.
Dedication
To my wife, Theresa, and my two children, Danielle and Vinh, whose love and patience help me every step along the way. I owe them all that I have accomplished while still dreaming for a little more.
For my parents and my brother, whose life stories gave me great inspirations and a clear purpose.
Copyright Information ©
T. Liem (2019)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Liem, T.
Sounds from the Đà Lạt Pine Trees
ISBN 9781643787886 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781643787879 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781645365181 (ePub e-book)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019911786
The main category of the book — FICTION / Historical
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 28th Floor
New York, NY 10005
USA
[e-mail]
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Watch the water fall on the treetops
Hear the troubled souls among the leaves dropped
Tumble into the past shade of haze blue
Walk the winding path too long to see way through.
The Pine Forest
The day she almost died started with a cold blessing she received in the pine forest. The five-year-old girl loved running into the midst of the woods where the tall trees touched the heaven. Sáng had to strain her neck to see that high, and somehow, she just knew that the sky could lead her to the furthest places imaginable. She was told that no matter where, she would always be covered and sheltered by the sky since it would remain the same, while all else, such as the trees, the houses, and the people as well, could change. She wanted to fly that high someday and to go that far away. She felt that it was going to be her destiny for a reason.
She disappeared among the pines. Each was thin but many made it a thick forest and a good place for Sáng to hide. Running barefooted, the playful little girl moved between the trees without the slightest care or the modest awareness of any possible peril. She skipped and stomped on the damped ground that felt cold but familiar to her feet. She ran deeper into the scene of greenery that was not just a lush forest by the city of Đà Lạt, but also her favorite setting for this game of hide-and-seek.
“ Ba , hai , một ,” her big sister loudly emphasized the end of the count at three, two, and one. Singers on the radio have booming voices like that , Sáng thought about her sister, maybe she can teach me how to sing someday .
“ Trốn xong chưa , tao đi kiếm tụi mày đây !” her sister issued the warning that she had started to go seeking. She then hopped along from rock to rock, tree to tree, probing and searching the area wide under the warm morning sun. Anywhere in this edge of the forest was always a fair playground for the two brave sisters and their friends, with or without permission by their parents.
Sáng noted a perfect spot. Ignoring the busy noises of birds chirping and roosters crowing, she stopped and listened to make sure that she was alone. She then sought to be surrounded by low branches and tall grasses. By herself for the moment, she felt more daring and ready to receive the cold breeze when it passed through these woods drenched by the morning dew. She settled in and prepared for a stay, perhaps long before she could be found.
Sáng looked up—all blue sky without a cloud. She looked down about her feet—all brown dirt with a smudge of mud. Her eyes then swayed to an object quite unnatural in shape. It had a menacing form of a man-made piece planted halfway below the dirt surface. Large or small, Sáng had no way of knowing its size. Her head tilted slightly for a better view, and her curiosity urged her to bend down and touch the mysterious object. It did not move because it was buried too deep. Sáng touched it again, this time with a little more force to pry it loose. She then grabbed it firmly and ripped it off the ground where it had lain for a time of apparent great length.
Sáng squatted down to rest her legs as she was determined to examine the curious, round thing like a small ball in a dried mud shell. She also noticed, this morning, that the fresh flowery scent was blended with something caustic and unpleasant. The last time she encountered such an odious smell, there was a combat firefight near the city and, as a result, bodies and houses were burned by napalm bombs. The raging war across Vietnam had, on many occasions, struck near home, although the city of Đà Lạt itself had generally been spared. Sáng was still too young to know what it really meant and neither could she imagine the danger presently lurking behind these rows of pines.
Sáng now had the object cradled in both hands. She flipped it side to side. She slowly scratched and wiped away the clinging dirt. The revealed dark-green paint reminded her of the guava fruits that her mother made her eat despite her disliking. The dangling hook ring made her think of the keychain her father carried in his pocket. It was, however, none of the things that she had ever played with or even seen before. It was a grenade.
As soon as she pulled the hook, Sáng knew she had done something she should not have. She dropped the rusty green object while turning her head to look for a way out. The grenade fell. It touched the ground and bounced up a little before it exploded.
Sáng had no time to run away. She was a mere few steps from where the blast was, only a meek pine tree between them. The scene reeled through her mind like a horrific nightmare except that the shock, the flash, and the burn were all too real.
Sáng had no time to react; it was only by instinct that she had her eyes shut and her face shielded. She had saved herself from the worst that could have happened.
Thunder? Can it be thunder on a clear day? Thiên wondered as she heard the loud burst. Sitting at the kitchen table, the young mother was slicing a melon for the meal that she usually prepared this time of day. She turned and saw a dusty cloud of dirt and leaves rising among the pines; from thereabout came the painful cry of a child. Thiên recognized that it was the voice of her dear daughter. She panicked and dropped the knife. “ Con ơi ! Sáng ơi !” she yelled as loudly as she could, out of breath. She rattled the table as she started to run out of the kitchen.
The knife hit the floor, a bowl slid to the table’s edge, and a jar fell on its side, spilling tomato sauce red as blood.
The squeal continued and it grew louder. Thiên kept running and searching although the exact spot where her daughter was she did not know; just the hysterical cry of the child that she was rushing toward.
Please, God, please love her and let her live , that was all the mother could think of as she thrust herself into the smoky cloud. The scream surged louder and more urgent when Thiên found her daughter squirming, covering her face with one hand while reaching out for help with the bloody other.
The mother leaped onto the ground to be next to her child. Thiên had to fight panic to compose herself just enough to see that the wounds were only on the face and the hand. Amid the loud cries and the gory sight, somehow, she had to remain calm and strong.
Thiên noticed only a few wounds around the eyes and she saw that the bleeding was just a trickle. Much worse could be said about the right hand that was trembling and convulsing. She cringed at the sight of it being twisted, mangled, and entirely bloody. The mother used all her strength to sweep the child off the ground and she carried the girl as best she could toward the paved street. She knew that someone ought to have a car there, ready to rush them to a nearby hospital. Her tears streamed down onto her red stained chest where her daughter buried her grimaced face.
As if silence could allay the tragedy in any way, no one else was making any loud sound. The few who passed by and heard the explosion all stood still with muddled thoughts and distraught feelings. All they could offer was some mumbled prayers and raw sympathy. They just witnessed another calamity of war and, sadly, they had long been learning how to live with it.
The car carried away Sáng, her sister, and their mother. As the blaring sound of the car horn disappeared, the scene at the pine forest stayed in bleak stillness. The grandmother sniffled loudly between long spans of quiet weeping. She felt guilty for having allowed the children running into the forest. She looked desperately for someone to tell her th