The Clearing

TW- War, violence, blood.

Note: Inspired by my father-in-law's recounting

*Yae-grandmother

" This belonged to my Yae," my grandmother coos as she threads the heirloom around my neck, "Now, it's yours, Lee." The jade Buddha rests coolly against my heated midsummer skin. I memorize the graceful lines on my Yae's face, a smile blossoming across my lips. The crinkles framing her eyes deepen when she returns the gesture.

"It's my good luck charm, may it bring you good fortunes, my child."

The memory of my Yae makes my heart sink as I rest on the bare ground inside the ramshackle bamboo hut. I know she is surely gone, but I dared not think of what she might have endured. For once, I'm grateful for my ignorance, letting guilt hit me like a late summer typhoon. I swallow, failing to saturate the desert in my throat—rainwater only makes my stomach hurt. The rare thought of my grandmother widens the long-ignored hole in my chest as I hug my knees, greeting the heaviness of my bones. I note my fissured heels elevated on a rock, new blisters mingling with old callouses reminded me of a grotesque Picasso painting— which my knowledge, in itself, was punishable. Western conveniences, such as sneakers, are forbidden, so we work in car-tire sandals and shapeless rags.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. There are no clocks, only the rise and fall of the sun tells us another day has passed. We till the fields with scraps to reward our bodies. Most don't make it. Many died from starvation, malaria—others, pure exhaustion. Modern doctors were persecuted, so diseases swarm like locust. Every sunrise is a roll of the dice. I wonder if I’ll make it to tomorrow.

"I can't do this anymore," Sister Seng cries through ragged breaths. The tendon on her petite neck is taut with each word, the sudden emotional episode sending trembles through her frail body. We’ve had no proper meal in days, the fried insects barely fill our bellies and does nothing to nourish us. The few strands left of Seng's hair are starting to give, making her angular face ice cold when she suddenly stops crying. Something taboo glints behind her eyes—it’s something rare these days. Something I almost don’t recognize.

"I heard family unit 5 will run at dawn. Let’s go with them," Seng drops her voice to barely a whisper, desperation clinging to each word.

"Not this nonsense,” whispers Visna. Candlelight reflected off his dark, furrowed brows, driving deeper lines into his already thin face. His eyes dart from the window to the door, as if afraid the stars could hear us. Visna is the youngest, but malnourishment and unspoken pain have aged him—a trait we all share. "The last group that escaped is beneath the fields,” he whispers almost to himself, eyes beyond, a soft tear threatened his waterline. “You’ll die if you run,” he chokes.

Seng’s face contorts in frustrated desperation. "I would rather be there than watch myself decompose like this," She answers, her firm voice dominating the room. "Besides, there’s a new route through the jungle. The whispers started a few nights ago."

I place a hand over my necklace—my forbidden treasure. Most times, it’s hidden in my shoes, but tonight it begged to be worn. I don’t know why I risk it— all religions are banned. Those monsters even killed monks, men of peace.

I inhaled, the cool night air calming my mind, but tickling my dry throat, causing a storm of uncontrollable coughs to rack my body. Each breath is an arrow through the chest as I struggle to speak.

"Lee, you've had that cough for six days now," Seng says, pouring liquid from an old water bottle into a plastic mug and handing it to me. I stare down at the murky liquid, two outcomes fight in my mind—drink and have diarrhea or ignore the sandpaper in my throat.

"Don't worry. I was able to boil it this time without a beating," Seng remarks, reading my mind. She is a lifesaver. I’ll owe her one in the next life. It takes all of my self-control not to snatch the water from her hand. I put the cup to my lips and gulp down the nectar, quenching the desert in my throat. I’ve never tasted something more delicious. I drink voraciously until there's nothing left, only the stale taste of plastic.

"We have to go, or we will die," Seng says, the gray pillows under her eyes darkening the room despite the lack of lighting. I swallow hard, knowing she is right. The only outcome here is death. I can feel the pneumonia settling in my lungs. If I don't get help, I won’t have many mornings left. I nod, determined, as Visna shakes his head and pulls the thin tattered blanket over his face.

"At the first crow of the rooster, we take the trail behind hut number 4, past the chicken coop, into the banana tree grove, and down to the stream. Be careful of the landmines. There will be a tree with a white ribbon tied to it.”

It is deep into the night as Seng and I scramble to find our hidden photos and jewelry. We had no real belongings here, only items that made our existence less lonely.

“Follow the trail of wild lilies, and it will lead to a house of refuge that will help us sneak through the Vietnamese border.”

Seng and I slip past a sleeping Visna and headed towards the back of the settlement. The sun has yet to rise, so we find our way in moonlight.

Five more join us as we sneak into the banana tree grove. Every person, a paper doll slipping between the trees. Each step against the ground injects more adrenaline through my veins, sending swishing blood behind my ears. We sifted through the banana tree forest, its giant leaves like hands, brushing against our bodies.

We continue until we heard soft sound of trickling water. like Ma's voice, calling me in for supper after school, a past that no longer exists. All the schools are burnt, the scholars, historians, and teachers within them. Enemies of the revolution.

A smile lights Seng's face as we rush towards the sound of water, our feet bouncing off the muddy ground in haste, the taste of freedom between my teeth. I was a track star before the rebellion, so muscle memory carries me faster than Seng.

"Wait for me!" she calls as the others run around her; hope plastered on their tired faces. My chest brimming with anticipation and relief. We were almost there.

The end of the forest comes into view under the moonlight as our smiles turn to terror on our cheeks. Then, fireworks erupt behind me, a bone shattering sound that made me want to drop and curl into fetal position. I know they aren't fireworks—those are banned. The other's bodies slam into me as they halt, afraid of the scene unraveling before us. A group of them—men with guns and angry eyes.

People begin to scramble. I don't see Seng. I'm afraid. I refuse to turn around. I can't. The sound. The landmines. The guns before me.

I am frozen.

A man approaches, a red bandana knotted on his neck, a cigarette between his dry lips. His sunburnt skin makes him almost invisible against the darkness of the night.

"You ungrateful pieces of shit," he spits. "We give you shelter, clothe you, feed you, and you dishonor us by leaving?"

Screams erupt from around me as people scatter in every direction, their fear palpable. A handful of people head towards the stream, splashing their way across. I follow, hearing the sound of his automatic weapon, raking across the field behind me. Then, bodies hitting the ground. I clutch my grandmother's necklace tightly in my hand and sprint.

I push my legs to the limit, running as fast and as far as I can. The gun’s song trailing behind, nailing wet thudding sounds into the earth around me.

My eyes adjust but it’s impossible to see until I am knee deep in the cold stream. The water rushes around my burning legs, but I dare not stop. I place one foot before the other until my ankles give, and I slip, falling and hitting my head against something hard and wet.

My vision blurs and then darkens.

"Wake up. It's time to go," a soft, feminine voice beckons me. I look up, despite the terrible ringing in my head. It is still dark, but the night sky is beginning to mingle with the sun goddess, sending light streaks of orange into the air. "You must come now," the stranger insists.

I push myself off the stream, completely soaked, water trickling all around me like rain off foliage. I feel for the necklace against my throat, and it greets me. A sigh of relief escapes my chapped lips.

The stranger looks to me. She is short, her feet caked in dirt, brown shirt and pants stained crimson. Despite this, I would have found her pretty in another lifetime.

"Come, now," she says again, beckoning me to follow, her almond eyes peering into mine.

"Do you know where to go?" I ask, stumbling to find my footing. "I've lost the others...I think they've—" I shudder. Jolts of electricity fire in my head when I speak.

"Don't worry about them. We must keep walking. I'll show you the way." Her onyx hair is silky in the glow of the rising sun. The ground beneath my feet still feels wet, but I continue walking.

The earth smelled of iron, blood, gunpowder, pain, and regret. My eyes wanted to look at the carnage, but my focus stays with the stranger.

"Which village did you come from?" I ask, tripping over something soft. "It's not important anymore. We just need to focus on getting to that house. C'mon."

She takes my hand and leads me straight forward, then down a winding path lined with wild lilies.

"The lilies, we've found them," I elate, feeling my pulse increase. "Yes, just a little more. Focus on me," she says, pulling me harder. I can feel both strength and sadness in her touch. An explosion a few meters away steals my attention.

"Focus on me," she says before I can turn my head towards the sound. The sky is lightening up, but I cannot see the ground beneath the dense shade of trees. My fate is in the hands of this stranger, yet she makes me feel at ease.

"We're almost there. Just beyond the clearing is the house." Her voice is surprisingly calm.

"Thank you! I don’t know what would happen if you didn’t find me,” I exclaim.

At last, salvation is a few meters away.

She stops abruptly, and I feel my heart drop. The stranger looks at me, something flickers in her almond eyes as a poignant smile radiates from her lips.

"This is where I leave you, I need to help the others. Go straight through the clearing of the trees. Don't let your eyes wander."

With that, the stranger is running back the way we came. I draw blanks as to why she wouldn't go with me. It’s too risky to keep going back and forth, despite her kind heart. I wonder if I should follow and help others too. I decide against it. It was too risky. I send a silent thank you toward her and head towards the clearing.

I look straight ahead, focusing on the light poking through the tunnel of trees. I jump over a fallen branch, wade through a puddle of water, and weave my way around a giant palm tree.

At last, the clearing is there.

Trees pass me in a blur as I push past branches. It is so close now.

In my peripheral vision, I see something that makes me stop. I look. My breath catches. There she is, nestled between the trees as if the earth has claimed her. Her almond eyes, still open, soft as moonlight. A serene smile rests on her lips, though her body lies broken beneath the soil. A part of me wants to scream, but the sound dies in my throat. She had been here all along.

I approach her, careful not to disturb the earth as I place my hand over her eyes and close them—hopeful she finds rest.

I swallow hard, clutching the jade necklace against my chest. "Thank you," I whisper.