“Please sir, buy my gum,” the little boy said.
“No, thank you,” came Shane’s reply. He walked on ahead, hailing a cab in front of the Lucky Plaza on Dong Khoi Street. He had just finished the usual Friday night out with his mates at the Underground.
The little boy persisted in selling his chewing gum to Shane.
“Buy my gum, Sir,” the little boy continued, his voice sounding pitiful. He made another desperate attempt as he saw a taxi driver stopping at Shane’s request. Holding on to Shane’s right arm tightly, he flashed 5 packs of Wrigley’s Fresh Mint gum in front of Shane. Of course, even with his hands stretched high up, the gum only appeared to be dancing in front of Shane’s broad torso.
“Go home, boy! Get some sleep!” Shane told the little boy as he climbed into the taxi. He tried to shake off the little boy’s grip around his arm. “And go get some shoes!” Shane added, as he saw the little boy bare-footed. As he closed the door to the taxi, Shane looked at the boy again. His puppy-dog face was heart-wrenching, even for a hardened guy like Shane.
“So ba muoi bun, Phung Khac Khoan, xin cam on,” he told the taxi driver upon being asked the next place of destination. Shane leaned back on the seat as he looked out the window. It was still early for a Friday night. The traffic movement in Saigon was showing no signs of slowing down. The motorbikes were zooming in and out at every junction, seemingly with the “No Fear” attitude. Shane had owned one of those Yamaha cub before. However, after an accident on the ‘fearless’ streets of Saigon which left him with a steel implant in his left thigh, he had sold whatever remains of his bike in exchange for even more fearless rides in a taxi. At least, with a protective shell, it felt slightly safer.
As he looked out the window, he saw a young Vietnamese kid dangling off the back of a foreigner. A couple more were flocking the lady by his side. Where do these street urchins come from? Shane thought. They were everywhere! Well, everywhere the expatriates of Saigon hung-out. It was all right when they left you at “No”. But these kids, they can get really persistent. Shane had on many occasions felt the urge to smack them and put them to bed.
“Honey, I’m home!” Shane called out as he entered the door to his apartment. But of course, only silence acknowledged his greetings. Ever since his accident, he had felt odd pangs of loneliness occurring frequently. Perhaps, it was when his life was flashing past him all he could see was the lonely number of one. He had been an only child, and after his parents passing, he had ventured on a freelance employment with BBC and traveled to South East Asia. He had since made long stop-overs in Indonesia, Cambodia, Myanmar, Thailand and currently Vietnam. He felt it was now time to settle down.
So, that was how he developed the habit of the amusing greeting when he got home daily. As he turned on the television, he thought of all the girls he tried to date. Not one had appealed to him. Although Asian women had their charms and beauty, he found few who could hold his interest. Being a typical American who believed in equal rights, he felt dating an Asian was like looking after a little kid. Some men saw that as power play. But Shane only felt the entire burden of the relationship falling on his shoulders. Opening doors, paying for dinners, making decisions, the list goes on and on. He wanted someone who would in turn baby-sit him and make decisions for him instead. He smiled at the thought – who doesn’t want to be pampered?
**********
“Buy my gum, Sir!” the little boy ran after Shane, tugging his shirt-tail.
“Why should I?” Shane asked. Today, he was in the mood to talk. After emptying half a barrel of beer into his stomach, hell, anyone could talk. But this was his first time talking to one of the street kids. He had never bothered before. However, the curious nature came with his job.
“If you buy, then I not bother you anymore!” the little boy said, smiling sheepishly.
“I don’t want any gum, go home, boy!” Shane looked at him. He suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu. He was speaking to the same boy again!
“You need gum, Sir. Too much bia!” the little boy spoke again, pinching his nose to let Shane know that he reeked of alcohol.
“You’re a pretty good salesman aren’t you? Okay, mot cai bao nhieu tieng?”
“5000 Dong!”
“5000 Dong! You’re not only a salesman, you’re a conman aren’t you?”
“Buy my gum, sir!” the little boy made his sales pitch again, after not understanding what Shane had just said.
“Too expensive!”
“For you cheap-cheap, Sir! Japanese man pay me 1 US dollar! Cheap, sir! Buy my gum, sir!”
“What is your name, boy?”
“Tai,” the boy answered. It was the first time in his life that anyone had asked for his name. He wasn’t sure if this was his name, but this was what everyone called him.
“Go get some shoes, Tai,” Shane said pointing at his feet.
“No money! Give me money! Buy my gum!”
Shane returned home 20,000 Dong poorer, and two packets of Wrigley’s Spearmints sitting inside his shirt pocket. How was it that rascal made me pay freaking 10,000 Dong for one pack of chewing gum when his opening price was only 5,000 Dong? Shane shook his head, feeling once again, he had been conned by a local. Vietnam, where every foreigner had either a “Rich” or “Stupid” or both signs tattooed on his or her forehead. As Shane opened the pack of chewing gum, he saw stamped on the outer foil, the words “Vietnam 2000 Dong”. He laughed to himself, shaking his head forlornly.
**********
“I need to get out of Vietnam. I’ve been here too long!” Shane complained to his editor.
“Let’s see what we can do, Shane. Be patient!”
“You know, Bob, I’ve been here so long, even the bloody chewing gum boy knows who I am! I need a fresh surrounding and fresh pieces to be working on!” Shane took a swig of his Heineken as he washed down the last of his steak.
“Oh, don’t be letting those tramps get to you! Don’t be fooled by their puppy-dog faces and crocodile tears. There’s a whole syndicate behind them! Though, no one has ever been able to pin-point on it so far,” Bob winked. Shane did not take the hint that Bob had considered the story a fresh piece to be working on.
The night continued with Shane trying to break down the old dog Bob, who had lived in Vietnam for more than 10 years now. Secretly, Shane thought Bob was one of those American veterans here in Vietnam. After another half a dozen Heinekens between them, and still Shane felt no signs of Bob’s wall crumbling, he decided to call it a night, leaving Bob behind with the Vietnamese waitresses.
As soon as Shane walked out of the smoky Seventeen Salon, situated across the Saigon riverside, all the street kid vendors flocked around him. All of them were brandishing an array of chewing gum and breath mints ready to squeeze the last dime out of the next willing foreigner. They were speaking in unison, only in different languages, as they tried to guess Shane’s language. To his amazement, Shane could make out French, Thai, and even German amidst the wild chattering. Where do they learn how to say buy my gum in so many different languages? Shane thought, bewildered, yet holding his gaze straight ahead, not looking at any of those kids.
“No, thank you! No, thank you! No! Make way! Go home!”
“But you buy my gum before!” And there he was, in the crowd, little Tai appeared, once again waving his Wrigley’s in front of Shane.
“You again! Are you haunting me? What are you doing here?”
“This is my area today. You must buy my gum, Sir!” little Tai followed Shane as he walked away from the rest of the kids.
“Not tonight. No.”
“Why not?”
“Because!! Look, Tin, there’s some Japanese men there, go get ‘em. They’ll pay more!” Shane pointed towards two Japanese men walking ahead of him. He was in no mood to entertain the little kid today.
“My name is Tai. Not Tin!” Tai stuck his tongue out as he skipped down the road to his next potential buyer – the Japanese men.
“Watashi no chuuingamu wo katte kudasai!” Shane heard Tai attacking his targets as he walked past. So, he speaks Japanese now. Maybe they are all fronting a syndicate. A syndicate which taught little kids to say “buy my gum, sir” in 100 different languages. If what Bob said was true, then this was child exploitation. Shane had done a piece for the BBC on child labour in Cambodia before. Garment factories were hiring kids as young as 8 years old to work in the factories. With this thought, he turned back to look at Tai.
The Japanese men were obviously annoyed by Tai’s pursuit of selling his Wrigley’s. Suddenly, the bigger of the two gave Tai a hard shove. Tai stumbled a few steps backwards off the sidewalk. Just then, a hell-rider on bicycle came crashing into Tai, sending him reeling downwards onto the tarmac.
Instinctively, Shane ran towards the poor little boy. The two Japanese men had walked off, pretending as if nothing had happened. On seeing Shane approach, the man with the bicycle hurriedly picked up his bike and rode off, fast as before. In Vietnam, the bigger mode of transportation was always known as the “bully”. Such was the hierarchy of things. The biker knew better – Tai was on foot.
Little Tai was wailing. There was a deep cut on his left knee and his elbows and hands were bleeding. Shane knelt beside Tai, checking him for broken bones. A small crowd had gathered around him. The kids were chattering away excitedly to Tai. But Tai just kept on crying in pain, hitting Shane in anger.
“Don’t cry, please. I’ll take you to the doctor. Don’t cry…” Shane said as he cradled Tai in his arms. He suddenly realized Tai was very small in size. The taxi driver ferried a perplexed white man and a wailing Vietnamese boy to the SOS International Clinic that night. Shane somehow felt responsible for pointing Tai towards the direction of the rude and obnoxious Japanese men.
Sitting outside the steps of the International SOS, Tai was now sucking on a piece of candy, looking at his bandaged knee and arms. His face was tear-stained, but other than that, he seemed all right.
“Where is your home, Tai?”
Tai shook his head, sucking his candy greedily.
“We gotta get you home, Tai. Tell me.”
“No money,” was his short reply.
“Where is your ma?”
“Selling rice and dry fish,” Tai answered, his hands playing gently with his bandaged knee.
“Where is home, Tai? I’ll take you home.”
Tai looked around him. Ly Tu Trong Street was less busy than his ‘area’. But it did not matter. Sometimes, he was dropped off here too. He did not have much recollection of his home, or his family. He remembered an image of his mother selling rice for a living, and that was it. Maybe it had been so long ago, that he had forgotten. He had wanted to forget. In Vietnam, where the culture is very family-oriented, to be disowned by one’s family is a very bad thing. It is better to have none. He looked at Shane and said “Here.”
“Here is home?”
Tai nodded. Shane stared dumb-founded at Tai. So, he lived on the streets. He was nearly killed tonight. Lucky for him it was a bicycle, and not a truck. Who would feel the loss should Tai have been killed tonight?
“You lie to me,” Tai said, breaking Shane’s train of thoughts.
“About what?”
“They not Japanese. They Korean.”
“Same difference, kid.”
“Same-same, small eyes,” Tai giggled, holding his eyes with his fingers into a slit. Shane laughed. He was amazed. This kid was nearly killed tonight, and yet, he didn’t care. He didn’t yearn for his mother, or father. And he was now back to his cheeky self.
“Have you eaten?”
Tai shook his head glumly, sucking on the last of his candy.
“You wanna get something to eat, kid?”
Tai nodded his head, understanding the word “eat”.
15 minutes later, they were seating at a sidewalk pavement of a banh canh store on Hai Ba Trung Street. Shane watched in amazement as Tai devoured his rice noodles hungrily. The poor kid must be starved, he thought. He was not aware of the many pairs of eyes stealing glances at the peculiar sight of a white man with a dirty, ragged kid. Shane was too preoccupied with his journalistic instincts telling him to find out more about the kid seated opposite him, thoroughly enjoying his noodles. Tai couldn’t be more than 7 years old, he thought. He decided to bring Tai home. He suddenly realized what Bob’s wink meant.
Upon reaching home, Shane was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea at all, bringing Tai back to his place. Now, he wasn’t so sure if there would be kidnapping charges against him. Or worse – pedophile charges. Or maybe this kid was going to rob him with the backing of the so-called syndicate. But the look of utter nervousness and discomfort written all over Tai’s face as they entered his house shoved all doubts to the back of his mind. Standing there, Tai saw the stark contrast between his world beneath the bridge and Shane’s luxurious world above it. He, like many other street kids had found shelter under the bridge at the Saigon riverside. The comfort under that bridge certainly cannot be compared to this, Tai thought. This place was fit for a king! Tai stood unable to move, as he took in the surroundings. Despite the untidiness left by Shane, Tai felt the place was rather clean. He felt if he walked any further, he might dirty the place.
Shane watched Tai, as he closed the door behind him. Surely, Tai was taken aback by this unfamiliar place. He probably did not have the luxury of ever stepping into a fully furnished house like that, he thought. He felt even more moved by that simple thought.
“So, do you like it?”
Tai did not answer. He looked at Shane, feeling lost in a new environment.
“Ok. You have to shower, get clean up, then you’re going to bed, ok?”
Tai remained silent.
“Ok. Come on. Come, tam,” Shane said as he showed Tai to the bathroom.
Tai looked at the spotless white bathroom. He took his baths in the river. He could not remember a time where he had been in a proper toilet but now, here it was – a real toilet. He looked at the faucets at the shower area. There was one with a red dot, and another one with a blue dot. The colour was universal language signaling hot and cold. He knew that, and he smiled.
Shane got out a new bar of soap and handed it to Tai. He also got a clean towel and one of his T-shirt for the boy. He left all that on the edge of the sink and walked out, closing the door.
As he prepared the couch for Tai’s sleepover, the boy walked out of the bathroom, looking very much like a Wizard of Oz. Shane laughed at the sight.
“This for girl!” Tai said tugging at the over-sized T-shirt.
“No, no. It is mine. But too big for you, eh? Nevermind. Just for tonight.” Shane laughed again, at the innocent confusion that was clearly on Tai’s face.
“Sleep now. Chao buoi toi!” Shane said to Tai as he left Tai on the couch.
Neither of them got much sleep that night.
Tai stared at the TV set in the dark. It was directly opposite the couch he was sleeping on. Why is this white man so kind? He had not asked for sex. What did he want? When will Ong Tuan realize that I am missing? Will I be punished? Tai absent-mindedly played with his bandaged hands and knee as these thoughts repeated themselves in his mind. But soon, Tai drifted off to sleep, with images of TV sets and shower curtains encircling his dreams.
While Tai was in dreamland, Shane was still very much awake, tossing and turning in his bed. What was he doing? He thought. This was not some potential girlfriend, this was a kid, for Christ’s sake! What should he do about him? Bring him back to the streets and leave him there? Hoping not to bump into him ever again after that? Give him some money? Put him into school? Bring him to an orphanage? The red numbers on his radio clock told him that it was almost dawn. I’ll figure it out tomorrow, he thought as he closed his eyes to get some sleep. He went to sleep knowing that he wanted a story out of this kid.
The next morning, Shane opened his eyes only to find the face of a Vietnamese kid staring at him. With a start, he jumped off the bed on the other side. “What the fuck?!!” His sudden reaction had scared Tai too, as Tai backed towards the cupboard.
“I no do anything!” Tai said indignantly, looking at Shane.
“Oh, it’s you. What time is it?” Shane responded, rubbing his eyes, feeling the urge of getting in between the sheets again. Events of the past evening came back to him. The memory woke him up. He looked at Tai. Tai had changed back into his dirty rags.
For breakfast that morning, Shane introduced Tai to Kellog’s Cornflakes and milk. Tai did not quite like the peculiar breakfast, but he ate anyway, not knowing when his next meal will come by. He had remembered times when he picked up half-eaten sandwiches thrown away by someone on the roadside or half-eaten packets of potato chips strewn all over the walkway at the riverside, the work of many couples in love, who dated by the riverside. As he remembered how once, late at night, he saw a couple in a rather compromising position on the bench and gasped, causing much discomfort for the couple, a giggle escaped his mouth.
“What’s so funny, kid?”
Tai looked at Shane, not answering. He had picked up bits and pieces of street English here and there from Ong Tuan, and some other kids, but he knew it was not enough to hold a proper conversation with a white man, certainly.
As Tai continued chewing on his crunchy flakes, Shane made a call to Bob.
“One more story and I’m out of here, Bob.”
“Milk the story, old boy! The kid trust you now, doesn’t he? Get to the bottom of it! You’re the man!” Bob growled on the other line. Meanwhile, Shane looked at Tai and wondered what to do with him. He ended the call abruptly, thinking of the word “trust” that Bob had just mentioned.
“We get you some clothes, ok? And shoes?” Shane nodded, answering his own question.
“Buy me gum. I have to sell. Make money.”
“I’ll give you some money. But you must help me.”
Tai stopped chewing his cornflakes. He stared at Shane. He was going to ask for sex now, he thought. Ong Tuan was not here. He could refuse.
“No, no sex! I no help!”
Tai’s response shocked Shane to the core. The ugliness of the reality set in. This was bad. Very bad, he thought.
“No, I don’t want sex, Tai,” Shane tried to explain to Tai. “I’m not a bad man. I am a reporter, you know? Lam gioi?”
Tai nodded, then went on to finishing the last of his cornflakes. At this point, Shane was lost for words. It hit him that all of last night, the poor kid was probably lying in the couch thinking that he had wanted sex.
“Foreigner. Some good. Some no good,” Tai spoke again.
“Yes, I know, Tai. I know.”
“Some ask for sex. Small girl, small boy, no matter.”
Shane nodded, taking it all in.
“You write in paper? Maybe they stop foreigner ask sex, huh?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Tai. But I can try,” Shane answered glumly. Suddenly, he felt the huge burden of having a tonne of civic responsibilities put on his shoulders. This had got to be far worse than being responsible for a girlfriend. When he had done the piece on child exploitation in Cambodia, it was to create awareness. But it did not stop anything. He had always thought that one man alone cannot change the world. That was why he always took on political pieces, and seldom social pieces to work on. He could do without the burden. He looked at Tai, feeling helpless. Here was a kid who thought if this made in into the papers, it would stop everything. In a way, it was not a wrong thought. The only thing was that in reality, there were many other contributing factors.
“Can’t you get help from somewhere?”
When Tai did not answer, Shane spoke in Vietnamese.
“Cong an come to catch. Put kid in house. Many other boys and girls. But they no like. No free like outside. When naughty, they beat them! So, I no want to go there.”
This must be the orphanage homes, he thought. A colleague had done a piece on the orphanages before, but only because the orphanages had wanted to do a donation drive. He knew they took in street kids occasionally. At that time, the story angle was that there were not enough homes to go round sheltering all the homeless kids. He could not remember much else. It was not his piece. Furthermore, he was working on Clinton’s lifting of the trade embargo.
Shane could feel his spirits settling on low for the day as he and Tai looked at each other. This was why he never liked doing social pieces. The reality of the world was too close for comfort. It always pushed him to the edge of helplessness and he could feel that helplessness now. Without knowing what else to say to Tai now, he thought a survival tip might come in handy.
“You said to me, no sex, just now. You can always say no next time to other people.”
Tai understood the gist of what Shane was trying to say. Could he tell Shane that Ong Tuan would beat him if he refused? No, he couldn’t possibly tell Shane about Ong Tuan. He’d be killed. There was no reason why Shane needed to know about Ong Tuan. So, in response to Shane’s statement, Tai just nodded his head.
“Is someone else making you do it, Tai?” Shane asked, suddenly remembering the ‘syndicate’.
Tai looked at Shane. This white man knew I was lying, he thought. Tai ignored the question. Instead, he changed the subject.
“I show you my house, ok?”
Tai knew Ong Tuan never came around in the day. It would be alright to show this reporter the shelter under the bridge. There were only two things Tai was afraid of – Ong Tuan, and the police. He didn’t want to be caught and sent to the home his other friends told him about. He would not be able to run around as he pleased, or swim in the river or play with his friends. With Ong Tuan, he just did not want to be beaten or scolded by him. To him, he owed Ong Tuan because Ong Tuan had taken care of him. Well, after all, that was what Ong Tuan always said.
As they neared the riverside, Tai decided that he liked Shane already. He had seen the sincerity in Shane’s eyes when he told his story earlier. Tai had never seen such sincerity displayed by a foreigner before. This man had compassion, he thought. Maybe he wanted to help. Maybe he can help, he thought. However, he was too young to know how, or what. He only knew that he needed to put food in his tummy. And Ong Tuan helped him do that. But then again, this man just bought him a pair of slippers. And he laughed at my jokes. Tai couldn’t help feeling that the short walk from the house to the riverside, and the slipper buying stop, had made Shane seemed like a father he never remembered having.
Shane followed Tai as he nimbly skipped off the bridge and went under it, crouching down low. Shane followed suit. He could smell the stench of the river. The Mekong River wasn’t exactly the cleanest in the world. He could only think of the man pissing into the river as he walked past just now. To the Vietnamese, half the world was their toilet. They did it everywhere, but indoors. So, it was not possible that the Mekong Delta would be spared as yet another outdoor toilet. In this case, it was a natural toilet.
Shane heard soft chattering as they walked deeper under the bridge. He could hear the water gently lapping on the edges of the rock bank. He did not brace himself for what he was going to see next.
Staring back at him were the faces of about twenty kids, a mixture of boys and girls. Three of the boys had instantly jumped into the river, swimming away as fast as possible. Tai called out to them, explaining that the white man was not a cop. He laughed at the antics of his friends.
“They think you cong an. They swim away," Tai turned, explaining to Shane, still giggling away. Soon, the kids were surrounding Tai, questioning him about his accident and his new friend.
Shane looked at the area, his knees were about to give way. But he did not particularly want to sit down on the moss-covered ground. How could anyone live here? It was not even a flat sleeping surface. It was a sloped riverbank! He shook his head. He recalled the numerous times he had walked on the bridge above, totally oblivious to what was going on beneath it. A thought struck him – isn’t this what half the world is doing daily? People only see what they wanted to see. The dirt, the grime, they were all swept underneath. The reality was always there, but typical of human beings to view the world with filters covering their eyes. He was a culprit.
Suddenly, a fragment of the kids’ conversation aroused his curiosity. They had mentioned the name Ong Tuan and Tai was apparently wondering if this man was angry with his disappearance. The kids had told him that lucky for him, Ong Tuan didn’t do a head count last night. So, they were controlled. Shane was not surprised.
“Tai, who is Ong Tuan?” Shane asked.
Suddenly, the kids all turned silent. They started whispering to each other. At this point, Shane was glad he spoke and understood fluent Vietnamese. They had decided to divert his attention by swarming him with their goods. A flurry of “buy my gum, sir” enveloped Shane. Shane wasn’t sure he could handle twenty kids right now. He decided to make an exit. He needed to think things through and let them settle in. He crouched his way back to the sunshine. Already, the stench was getting to him.
As he stepped out, and onto the bridge again, he noticed Tai and a couple of kids following him.
“My money. You said give me money.”
“Oh, you have a good memory!” Shane said mockingly, as he pulled out his wallet.
As he handed Tai 200,000 Dong, Tai asked, “See you again?”
“Yea, kid. See you again,” Shane replied. Well, he knew where the kid stayed now. He could always look him up. But would he?
“You write, you help, ok?” Tai said gleefully to Shane, holding out the thumbs-up sign.
Shane looked at Tai, again, the feeling of helplessness swept past him. Not knowing what to say, Shane turned around and walked off.
“Buy my gum, sir!” Tai shouted at him, grinning, then turned around and skipped under the bridge with his friends. Shane looked at Tai disappearing under the bridge and shook his head. This kid was amazing, he thought. If I lived there, I would be angry with the world. How does he do it?
That night, while he had a lonely dinner at the old Italian restaurant in the backpacker’s area, he couldn’t help thinking about Tai. In his seven years of young life, Tai had been through more than Shane did. Yet, the boy lived everyday with not much care in the world, the only worry being where his next meal was coming from. Despite all, Tai could laugh when it was time to laugh. He remembered the little shoe-buying activity that day. He had laughed at Tai’s simple manner, his fresh perspective at things and life in general. Tai wasn’t an old and crusty cynic like himself. That was what was amazing about the little boy. He was simple. What made someone living a hard life as simple as all that? His thoughts went back to the shoe store again, where Tai had tried on a few pairs of slippers then, finally settling down for a cheap pair. He had said “Expensive, people take.” Tai had been very happy with his cheap slippers, running and kicking in the air with them. Then, Shane remembered one more thing – this person called Ong Tuan, which clearly, Tai and the other kids were very much afraid of. He got on the phone with his Vietnamese assistant. A little snooping around might help. Shane could see the story angle now – a syndicate which needed to be stopped.
“Honey, I’m home!”
“My name is not Ha Ni. It is Tai!”
“Holy Mother of God! What the?!!” Shane shouted as he nearly jumped out of his skin. In his fright, he had dropped his keys. He turned on the light switch immediately, thinking he must be hearing things. And there he was, little Tai huddled in one corner near his array of shoes. Shane did not notice Tai was bare-footed once again.
“Tai! What are you… How did you get in?!” Shane asked, his voice still very much raised.
“You no lock door,” Tai said, pointing at the sliding door that opened to the small yard at the other end of the house.
“What are you doing back here?!” Shane was rattled with the fact that someone had just intruded into his home. He noticed a bruise on Tai’s right cheeks, and he softened. “What happened?”
Tai looked at Shane, shaking his head. He was not about to tell Shane that Ong Tuan had been furious at finding out he had brought a foreigner under the bridge. Nevermind that the fact that Shane was a reporter was left out, it was still bad enough. For that, he had taken a beating from the menacing old man. It might lead to more trouble to tell Shane. Instead, Tai told a white lie.
“Other people beat me. Cross the line to their area,” Tai said, nodding affirmatively. It was not far from the truth. There were a number of times when Tai sold his chewing gum at another group’s area and got beaten up by the group leader. Hell, Ong Tuan probably beat up some other kids who entered his area anyway.
“I stay here, ok?” Tai pointed at the couch.
Shane said nothing, but nodded. What was he to do? What could he do? Go to the police? If the police could really do something about it, these syndicates would have been stopped a long time ago. But today, the number was growing. Again, Shane shook his head helplessly, the third time for today.
“You hungry?” He asked Tai.
Tai nodded.
“You want pizza?”
Tai’s face lighted up. “Yes. I know pizza. Italy bread, no?”
“Yes, it is kid,” Shane smiled.
Soon, they were both seated in front of the television, Tai enjoying his pizza, playing with the cheese strings as he took a bite off the Pepperoni Delight. There was a look of contentment on Tai’s face. Simple life’s pleasure that he never had before and was now enjoying. He never took his eyes away from the TV set. He had always been very intrigued by the pictures and sounds coming out of it, having seen it in some of the shops along the streets. Of course, he could not understand what the woman in the screen was saying, but he stared, mesmerized by the screen, or perhaps, the beautiful woman in the screen.
Shane looked at the little kid in rags, seating cross-legged enjoying his pizza. For some reason, he was inspired by the kid’s blind passion for life. For some reason, he enjoyed the kid’s company. He didn’t feel lonely tonight. He thought about the shock earlier of a response to his “Honey, I’m home!” He had always hoped there would be one, someday. Today, he got what he asked for. But not the entire way it was supposed to work. Yet, better than nothing. He sighed contentedly.
**********
“You are getting too personal with your story angle!”
“What do you mean personal? I speak the truth!”
“Look, Shane. A lot of journalists fall in the trap of their own emotions! You know enough, done enough not to do that!”
“I know how to separate my emotions from the story! Sure as hell, Bob!”
“Oh yea? What then is the part on hoping to adopt all about? You’re losing sight of the objectivity!”
“Bob! Bob! That’s a personal hope! I can use that!”
“Shane, for what it’s worth, you’re good at your job. You would know what to do. Get the angle right. Stick to it.”
Shane left Bob’s room in a huff. Crusty old man, he thought. What does he know about a kid living under the bridge? All he knew and cared about were his pub-girls who served him his favourite beer and danced around his lap. Damn it! Shane walked out of the office to clear his head. The evening traffic in Saigon was already building up.
Was he really getting too personal with the story now? Was he losing focus of the objectives? What were they? He didn’t know anymore. Could Bob be right? His angles and contents were all mixed up. What started out as a syndicate-unfolding story had suddenly turned into a personal story displaying his helplessness. Instead of digging deeper and investigating the syndicate, Shane had instead rummaged through piles and piles of information on child adoption. What was he thinking of?
Shane’s thoughts went to Tai. In a short several weeks, Tai had redeemed a part of his own life which he thought he would never find. The simple and fresh outlook that Tai had in life, had inspired Shane in more ways than one. The faith of embracing life no matter what life threw at you. The ignorance of a child, made room for that faith - the faith that it would all get better, no matter what. Sometimes, not understanding and not knowing life’s ugliness helps. But what would Tai turn out to be when he reached adulthood? Would he still hold that same faith and passion for life? That carefree, “yay-I’ve got-new-slippers” delight?
As Shane turned the corner into Nguyen Hue street, his thoughts continued, oblivious to the blaring Saigon traffic and filthy smog around him. That feeling of helplessness had engulfed him ever since he came face-to-face with some twenty kids living under the bridge. He knew a story was not going to help twenty kids earn a better life. What could he do? He could adopt Tai. That was one kid he saved. It was no wonder human beings didn’t like to think about saving the world. It was easier to ignore. As they say – ignorance was bliss.
In his chase for the story, Shane realized he had drowned further into his helplessness. All he could think about was giving Tai a better life, so that his bright and sparkling faith in life will never change. Absent-mindedly, he kicked an empty Sarsi can in front of him. The can flew a couple of metres and landed on the small back of a man, squatted on the sidewalk.
“Xin loi, anh”, Shane apologized. Shane continued walking on, as the man eyed him with a rather hard stare. Shane, not wanting trouble, quickly walked past. The old man was in a business bargain with another man. They were haggling over the price of a Sony DVD Player and amplifier. Shane walked, on, remembering his own Sony player at home which Tai was in awe of on his first visit.
He decided he’ll go back early tonight. Maybe he’ll talk to Tai about the adoption bit. Might be good to hear what the kid has to say, he thought.
“Too short for the light switch, kiddo?” Shane said as he entered his house, hitting the light switches. He looked around for Tai. It was still and quiet. Shane took one look around the house and he knew something was terribly wrong.
His prized Sony home-theater system was no longer where it used to be. His IMAC notebook was gone too. The whole place was in a mess, a type of hurricane mess but no signs of Tai. Tai was gone, along with his possessions. A few minutes passed before Shane took in what happened in his own home. A sudden crunching feeling took over now. He collapsed into his sofa, and ran his hands over his eyes, hoping when he opened his eyes again, the emptiness to his house would be gone. Unfortunately, there would be no magic tricks tonight. He did not know what to think anymore. All he could hope for was that Tai was not in any ways involved voluntarily.
He walked to the fridge, carefully avoiding the trash his stealers left behind. What were they doing? Emptying the entire contents of the fridge like that? They must’ve been hungry! Shane cursed beneath his breath. He needed a beer badly now.
**********
The plane took off, putting the distance between him and Vietnam. But Shane knew, no matter how far the distance, it would not erase the horrible memory of what he saw that night. The memory of little Tai’s naked blue body, squeezed into his tiny refrigerator will always haunt him.
And here he was – flying away, escaping that terrible nightmare, but never able to escape that helplessness of what he could not do to change things in this world. Or could he?
This whole internet craze for Twitters, Facebook and what-nots have been... just that - crazy. But, you know what - it has been really great too. From out of nowhere, I am connected again with people I've lost since childhood. Admittedly, I am a Facebook addict. When you start thinking in terms of status messages - you're a junkie. But hey - we're in the ad industry. Whatever keeps us sane, alright?
