The Wishing Trees (35 page)

I’ve only known one kind of love.
A love that he nurtured within me,
That was given light and water,
That was never taken for granted.
A love that grew,
Slowly at first,
Like the warmth of dawn.

He didn’t capture me with his eyes or smile or strength,
But with that same warmth,
Which seemed to take flight,
As if the sun gave out wings.

My home became his,
His secrets mine.

We journeyed together,
Two as one.

Up and down mountains
Of stone and thought.

We created a life together.
Shared her triumphs and joys,
Witnessed beauty through her eyes,
Which saw what angels see—
Miracles that too often go unnoticed,
Flowering weeds in a bed of roses.

The years slipped by,
Too short and fast.

We argued.
Paid bills.
And fell into monotonous patterns.
But our cores remained merged,
Tethered to each other.

Love can be damaged, wasted, torn.
But ours was unbroken—
A sun not yet set,
A poem not yet read.

Even now,
As the lids of my eyes, my life, go heavy,
I feel one with you—
The father of our child.
The fabric of me.

You gave me so many gifts,
And for those I am grateful.
My fate is no longer bitter.
It is just that—my fate.

Mourn me no more, Ian.
Move on.
Ahead.
Into new places.

And if you hear footsteps
Or see shadows,
Know that I am still with you.
Throughout this life and every life thereafter.

I am yours as I always was,
As I always will be.
I love you,

Kate

Ian carefully rolled up the note and put it away, brushing away his tears. He didn’t want to think about these being the last words that he would read from Kate for years. He longed to believe that he would hear her footsteps and see her shadow, but his faith in such things had been weakened, not strengthened, by her death.

He stood up, offering Mattie his hand. She took it and he led her away from the garden, from the temple where all religions were treated as one. In the distance he saw their driver leaning against his battered jeep. Ian started to walk toward it but noticed the man at the corner, holding his caged dove.

“Do you want to free it, luv?” Ian asked.

Mattie nodded. “Mommy would like that.”

“Then let’s make her happy.”

They joined the man, and Ian handed him five dollars. The local smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “When you set bird free,” he said, “you show your kindness to world. And then good luck, it come to you; it make you live longer; it make you happier.”

The dove cooed, ruffling its wings, as if it knew that it was about to take flight.

Ian turned to Mattie. “Why don’t you free her, Roo?”

She watched the bird, wanting to share the good luck with her father, wanting the world to know that he was kind. “Can we do it together?” she asked the man. “If we do it together, will we both get good luck?”

“Yes, I think so. A bird has two wings. So two people can release it.”

“Will it fly high? To someone above?”

The man glanced up, squinting from the sun’s glare. He then lowered his gaze to Mattie, appearing to study her. “Seven year ago, my father, he die. So, I go to river and let my favorite dove go free. I give him to my father. And that dove, he fly so high, like he want to meet my father. This make me happy. And this bird here, she strong. I think she do same thing.”

Mattie smiled faintly, watching the dove, thinking about her mother’s note. “Let’s hold the cage high, Daddy. So we can help her fly high.”

“Sure, luv. That’s a great idea. A real beaut.”

The man handed Mattie the cage, which she lifted until it was level with her eyes. The dove continued to coo.

“Can you open the door?” Mattie asked.

Ian put his fingers on the delicate bamboo. “Happily.”

“Good-bye, little bird,” Mattie said. “Fly high. Say hello to this man’s father and . . . and to my mommy.”

The cage’s door swung open. For a few seconds, the bird didn’t stir. But then it seemed to sense its looming freedom, leaping forward, spreading its wings. A feather fell as the dove took flight, rising above the street, a blur of white against a blue sky. Mattie reached for her father’s hand as the bird continued to climb. He squeezed her fingers as it soared higher, heading straight to the south, as if it knew the way home.

The dove disappeared.

As her father thanked the man, Mattie bent down and picked up the feather. She opened her sketch pad and carefully placed the feather between two pages. I’ll always keep you, she thought, closing the sketch pad and again taking her father’s hand.

TWO DAYS LATER, IAN AND MATTIE WAITED for Georgia and Holly outside Ho Chi Minh City’s airport. Though the airport was almost brand-new, and would have looked at home in any major city, nonpassengers were barred from entering it by a chain-link fence. Hundreds of locals were gathered behind this fence, awaiting the arrival of loved ones, friends, and business associates. People were orderly but tried to get as close as possible to the fence, stepping forward when spaces opened. Fortunately, Ian was taller than most everyone, and with Mattie sitting on his shoulders, they could stand in the back and still have a good view of passengers leaving the building.

As Ian waited, he wondered if he was crazy to be meeting Georgia. A part of him wanted to see her, but he also feared that the looming encounter would only further confuse Mattie. They planned to travel together for six days, and at that point, Mattie would be forced to again say good-bye. This time there wouldn’t be a hello shortly afterward. He and Mattie would journey to a new country, as Kate had asked. And then they would return to America. Whatever bonds had been forged between Mattie and her new companions would be severed. Whatever steps forward she’d taken would be undone. Mattie wanted a sibling, but Holly wasn’t her sister and never would be.

“Daddy?” she asked, leaning down from his shoulders.

“Yeah, Roo?”

“Is it . . . okay to be excited?”

“About Holly arriving?”

“Yes.”

He looked up at her. “Of course, luv. What do you mean?”

“I mean, we read Mommy’s last letter. And that made me sad. But now I’m excited.”

“I’m glad you’re excited,” he replied, squeezing her leg. “That’s a good thing.”

“Why?”

“Because I reckon that being excited is one of the best feelings in the world. Right up there with love and joy. And after you’ve been kicked in the teeth like we have, well, we deserve to be excited.”

“You are too?”

He smiled. “I am, my little question asker. We’re going to have a bloody good time.”

“Where are they? Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

“Easy on, luv. We’ll see them in a tick.”

“I hope so.”

Mattie drummed her fingers against Ian’s shoulders, and he watched the pink nails of her right hand rise and fall, wishing that she hadn’t discovered nail polish. He twisted to his left, looking away from the airport and into the darkening night. A nearby parking lot brimmed with battered taxis and motor scooters. Stainless-steel poles rose every fifty feet or so, topped by red flags with yellow stars. Though the sun had settled below the horizon, light still lingered, as if intent on illuminating whoever stepped from the airport.

Turning back toward the front of the airport, Ian studied the nearby locals. They were dressed more stylishly than he remembered from his earlier trip. Of course, a few conical bamboo hats perched atop the heads of the elderly, who tended to wear pajama-like pants and shirts. And many of the middle-aged women were covered from head to toe in formfitting traditional Vietnamese dresses. But members of the younger generation wore collared, Hawaiian-style T-shirts, jeans, skirts, and blouses.

Ian thought about how, fifteen years earlier, most everyone in Ho Chi Minh City rode bicycles. Now everyone, it seemed, owned a scooter. The black and red contraptions darted around the city like millions of water bugs released into a series of small streams. So many other things had changed as well. He remembered Ho Chi Minh City as having no skyscrapers or modern buildings. And though the city still didn’t compare to Hong Kong in terms of architectural wonders, Ian had been surprised by the sight of a dozen high-rises along the banks of the Saigon River. Multistory cranes dominated other parts of the skyline as developers rushed to build hotels and business centers.

Georgia and Holly had already been to Ho Chi Minh City twice, so the plan was to meet, spend one night in the city, and then travel by car to Dalat, a popular destination in the mountains of southern Vietnam. Both Ian and Mattie were looking forward to being in the mountains again, to escaping the chaos of another large city.

As Ian wondered what had changed in Dalat since he and Kate had walked its streets, Mattie squeezed his neck with her knees and leaned forward, forcing him to step ahead or topple over. “There they are!” she said, pointing. “See them, Daddy? Right over there?”

Georgia and Holly emerged from the airport, each pulling a suitcase. Georgia was dressed in a simple white collared blouse and brown pants. Her red hair was pulled back in a long ponytail. Holly wore a white sundress with blue, green, and purple polka dots.

“Holly!” Mattie called out, waving wildly. “Over here!”

Georgia turned in their direction, followed a second later by Holly. Eyes met and hands gestured. Mattie asked to be put down, and as she jumped off Ian’s shoulders, he had to keep her from slamming into the ground. They hurried to a gate where passengers were emerging. Holly let go of her suitcase and hugged Mattie. Georgia watched the girls, turned to Ian, and stepped ahead to embrace him. Their bodies didn’t press against each other like those of the girls, and their hug was brief. But still, he kissed her cheek and she smiled. Pleasantries were exchanged as Ian helped them with their suitcases and headed toward a nearby taxi. He haggled with the driver, agreed to a price, and gestured for Georgia to take the front seat.

Holly, Mattie, and Ian settled into the back, and the taxi left the parking lot, soon merging onto a street inundated with trucks, buses, scooters, and bicycles. Ian thought that Georgia and Holly would want to check in to their hotel and freshen up, but Holly was eager to explore. As the girls chatted beside him, Ian asked their driver to swing by their hotel, where Ian handed the suitcases to a porter and inquired if someone could deliver them to Georgia’s room. The man happily agreed, and soon the taxi was once again on the streets.

“Would you ladies fancy dining out this evening?” Ian asked, watching Georgia turn toward them.

Mattie nodded. “Where should we go?”

“Someplace fun?” Holly replied. “Maybe by the river?”

Ian unzipped his day pack so that he could reach his guidebook, but Holly leaned toward the driver. She started to speak in Mandarin, caught her mistake, and then said in English, “Excuse me, sir, but where should we go for dinner? What’s a special, special place?”

The man glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. “You want to eat Vietnamese or French food?”

“Can we have both?”

He nodded. “In that case, would you like to see the Temple Club?”

“What’s the Temple Club?”

“An old Chinese temple,” he replied, swinging the taxi around a broken-down bus. “It is now a restaurant. And very nice inside.”

Holly looked at everyone else. “Sounds great to me. What do you guys think?”

Mattie agreed, as did Georgia and Ian. The driver turned onto a busy boulevard and began to tell them the history of the Temple Club. Outside their windows, Ho Chi Minh City pulsated, an eccentric mix of French Colonial structures, dilapidated apartment buildings, and modern high-rises. The sidewalks were lined with tropical trees and filled with tourists, merchants, and hustlers. A light rain began to fall. The driver turned on the windshield wipers and continued to talk.