Gift for Grandma Tham

Lihn and I could not wait for the big day as we both thought about what Grandma Tham would put under the tree for us on Christmas. 

“Dai, what do you think she will bring?” My younger sister Lihn asked.  She was into dolls and stuff like that, but I wanted a Schwinn ten speed bicycle.  This summer, I was going to join the baseball team and I needed a bicycle to get me to and from practice.  I shrugged my shoulders as I was watching SpongeBob and could not be bothered. 

Our mother, Xuan, had come from Vietnam when Grandma Tham and Grandpa Bien tried to leave Saigon in April, 1975 when the Americans pulled out of the city. 

“I was just three years old.” She would tell us every Christmas when we set up the Christmas decorations.  The story never changed, but she would tell it anyway. “Your grandfather got me and Tham a flight out, but he ended up staying behind.  Since he was a leader in our village, they took him out to the field and shot him with the other men who were leaders.  I do not remember what he looked like anymore.” 

There was always a hint of sadness in her voice.  

“We set up a small group of us in Vacaville near the base.” She touched our faces with her gentle hand, “So much sadness then.  Mama would never talk about Grandpa Bien.  She went to work in the church helping out where she could.  Father Hernandez would always give her a bottle of wine in appreciation, but she did not drink.  She would give it away without letting him know about it.” 

It seemed to us that Grandma was not being truthful, but as it turned out she did not want to hurt Father Hernandez’s feelings.  

Grandma Tham would always add to and fill in the blanks left by mama.  She would start with the French and some old dude called Ho Chi Minh.  According to grandma, the entire French army went hunting this old dude who was a Marxist. It was just a few years after World War II when the Japanese ravaged the land.  When the war was over and the Japanese were kicked out, the French came back to claim what was there, but a lot of people did not feel that they were entitled to it.

“The French used to tie the rebels to stakes and let them swelter in the sun.” She would tell us.

“Mother, do you think you should be telling the children these stories?” Mama said through her teeth.

“It is part of their history.” She would defend herself.  Neither Lihn nor I really understood any part of it except when she got to the part when they shot grandpa in his own rice field. 

“Vietnam sounds like a strange place.” Lihn shook her head. 

“We’re Vietnamese.” I inserted hoping she would understand, but she was too young.  I didn’t understand it either when I was her age.  

The story always had the French, then the Americans fighting old dudes like Ho Chi Minh, but when I went into the sixth grade, Mr. Thompson had served in Vietnam and he would teach us about the war. 

“Hey Dai, did your family fight on the wrong side?” Jacob would ask me during recess. 

“No.” I would stick out my bottom lip when I answered. “My grandpa was shot.” 

“By who?” He would jeer me before running off with his straight eyed friends. 

“Don’t let them get to you, Dai.” Anita would tell me as she sat on her swing. “They are just a bunch of blockheads.” 

Anita was half Irish and half Korean and was not afraid of them as they would make fun of her as well.  

“I just get tired of it.” I threw a fistful of dirt into the air. 

“It would be nice if they changed, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” She walked with me to the water fountain. 

“Where were you born?” I asked.

“At an army base in Korea.  My dad married my mom in a traditional Korean wedding.” She smiled.  “Where were you born?”

“Right here in Vacaville.” I nodded.

“That makes sense. The war ended quite a few years ago.” She said before bowing to get a drink.

“Yeah that’s what Grandma Tham told me.” I waited for my turn.

“Sure, sure.  Those blockheads will never get it.” She nodded so I could take my turn, “I have some Hmong friends.”

“Who are Hmong?”

“They are from the hills of Cambodia and Laos.” She explained. “Dai, be proud of who you are.  Some of us had to go through a lot to get here.” 

It was true, if Grandma Tham was correct.  Her stories were full of ghosts, friends, relatives, and loved ones.  To her, Vietnam was nothing more than a grave, the earth holding the remains of everyone she cared about.  In Vacaville, she was free from the horrible memories of the past. The market in town had all of the food they used to sell on the dirty streets of the cities where poor farmers went to peddle their wares. 

In the Asian market, they sold what she needed to make Pho Pho and Banh Xeo.  Most American grocers did not have the right vegetables to make these delectable dishes.  Even if the old country brought back painful memories, the food was the perfect balm to soothe out the rough places.  She would bring over a dish for Christmas Eve that would even make her daughter Xuan smile when they all sat down to dinner.  Even though my mama and papa were divorced, he would still come over.  Eadburt or Ernie as his American friends at the base would call him, would wipe his mouth before saying, “Tham, you have a way with this dish.”

“Maybe you should have stayed married to my daughter, eh?” She would jibe him, but he would just ignore it. 

After dinner, he would give Lihn and me  our presents.  He made good money at the base, so we both knew his gifts would be the good stuff.  

I opened mine and there was a brand new ball mitt and bat included.  I was overjoyed and I went over and gave him a very thankful hug.  I was followed by my sister who got a new Barbie playset, white and round eyed as she was, Lihn still loved Barbie.

When the evening was over and papa went back to base, Lihn got out of bed and walked down the hall to my room. 

“What did we get Grandma Tham?” She asked, sitting at the edge of my bed. 

Suddenly the joy of the season was sucked right out of me. It was still an hour before bedtime.  Uncle Duy or Dewey as his name tag read, worked at the convenience store a block away.

“C’mon.” I told Lihn.

“Where?” She asked.

“To see papa’s brother.” I answered.

“Uncle Dewey?” She tilted her head.

“Yup.” 

“Why?” Her head was still tilted.

“Because he would know what to do.” I led her out the back door.  I could hear mama talk to Tham in Vietnamese.  I did not know how to speak it, but I knew when someone was speaking it.  

“Mama will be mad.” Lihn warned me.

“It’s Christmas and we need a miracle.” I explained as we stepped into the frigid California night.

“Kids!” Uncle Dewey laughed when we came in the front door. “I was going to shut down early, but now you’re here.” 

“We have a question.” I stood looking up at him from the counter.

“I have an answer.” He nodded.

“We want to get Grandma a Christmas gift.” I explained.

“You did not get Tham a present?” He seemed shocked.

“No.” Lihn shook her head.

“Shame, shame.” He shrugged.  He walked over to his locker behind the counter, “You got to promise me that you will just wrap this without looking at it.” 

He handed me an object that fit into my palm wrapped in the delicate wrapping Chinese merchants wrap their wares in when they sell them.

“How much?” I asked.

“How much do you have?” He asked.  My heart sank a bit.

“I’ve got five dollars, but grandma gave it to me.” Lihn announced.

“Same.” I shrugged.

“Keep it.  This one is on Uncle Duy.” He nodded.

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“You papa was quite a guy, you know.” He said without looking over his shoulder at us.

“We know.  We are going to mass tomorrow.” I assured him.

“I get that, but don’t forget Buddha.” He eyed us both the way adults do when you are trying to misbehave. 

“Buddha?” I echoed,

“Sure thing.  When we came here as kids, we were still Buddhists.” He nodded.

“That’s a lot more church that we were counting on.” I whined.

“We can do it, Dai.  We can light some incense at the temple.” Lihn tugged at my jacket sleeve. 

“Don’t forget what I said.” He handed me a small bottle of Jim Beam, “Not for you, for Buddha.”

“Stuff tastes like medicine anyway.” I stuck out my tongue in disgust. 

“Sure, sure, but Buddha loves it best.” He chuckled. 

“We will make sure he gets it, Uncle Dewey.” Lihn assured him.

“You are as cute as a button.  Thank goodness you take after your mother.” He lit a cigarette.

“What?” She shook her head.

“Your mama is very beautiful and you’re gonna look just like her.” He reached out and put his finger on her nose. 

“What’s in here?” I asked.

“Like I said, it's for Tham, not you.  I’ll be over sometime in the morning with Santa stuff.” He shook his head.  “Lihn, cutie, make sure he doesn’t mess this up, alright?”

“Sure thing.” She gave her uncle the thumbs up.

“You are a great kid.” He laughed as they left the store.

Curiosity is an irresistible force, but then I was under the close scrutiny of my little sister and she would use her tattling skills to undo me it I let my curiosity get the better of me.  

She got the wrapping paper.

“Are you two still up?” My mama called from the other room, “Remember, Santa will be early here, so you might want to get ready for bed.”

“In a little while mama.” I answered as the voice of authority.  In ten minutes we had wrapped the package Uncle Duy had given us.  

“Good job.” Lihn assessed our efforts. 

“There, I will give it to her in the morning.” I put the wrapped package on my dresser.

“You’d better wait for me.” She insisted. 

“You always get up first.” I rolled my eyes.  

As soon as I brushed my teeth, got my pajamas on and put my head on my pillow, I was asleep in a heavy slumber. 

“My dear, take our daughter to that man there.” He pointed to a uniformed marine.

“What about you?” She moved toward the marine who was trying to control the mass of humanity clamoring to get on an aircraft, any aircraft.

“I will take my chances.” Bien patted Tham on the shoulder.

“Grandpa, don’t leave us!” It was my voice.  It was my dream.  Grandma pushed past the marine who told her to halt.  She did what he asked.

“Where do you think you’re going, ma’am?” He asked, glancing at the small girl in her arms.  Both looked terrified.  Most of the those pushing onto the airfield were panicking, but these two had the look of terror in their eyes.  The gitl began to cry.  His duty as a marine was to protect his country with his life, but these two needed to get on board one of the aircraft.  He grabbed the woman’s hand and led her to one of the helicopters that would land on a carrier in the bay.  

“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek as she got on board the chopper. As they ascended, he waved at them.  He wasn’t even twenty years old.

“Grandpa!  Run!” I yelled as they led him to the rice fields.

I woke up before the sun had risen above the horizon.  At first the darkness was unsettling.  I heard some rustling and knew my mama was in the kitchen preparing the morning meal.  It was Christmas Day.  Or was it?  I closed my eyes to clear my head.  Moving silently in the darkness, I took a hold of the package I had for Grandma Tham.

“Dai, are you up?” I heard my sister ask.  She was standing at my door still dressed in her pajamas.  

“Yeah. I got the package.” I held it up.

“She’s still in the bathroom.” Lihn informed me.  “Mama is in the kitchen.” 

“Her present from me is already under the tree.” I sat on my bed and sighed.  Lihn came in and sat next to me.

“I am excited.” She smiled.

“Me, too.” I nodded. 

“Let’s go.” She stood up and together we walked into the room where our tree all decked out in red and gold decorations with a highway of wrapped gifts awaited us.

“Wait for your grandma.” Mama called from the kitchen.

“Alright.” We both answered with our eyes sparkling in anticipation. I put the small package for grandma in an inconspicuous place under the tree. 

A few minutes later, Grandma Tham appeared still dressed in her thick robe.

“Merry Christmas.” She gave each of us a hug. “Your father said he might be a little late…as usual.” 

“It’s okay.” I nodded.

“So, let’s see what Santa brought.” She laughed.  I could see the poorly wrapped bicycle hidden behind the tree.  Mama entered the room from the kitchen.

“Are we ready?” She kissed us both before sitting next to her mother on the couch. 

I was thrilled with the bicycle as was Lihn with more Barbie play stuff.  

“What is this?” I heard her say as she picked up the package.

“Open it.” Lihn urged.

“I will.” She smiled as she tore open the wrapping with grace and dignity.  As soon as she saw what it was, she gasped. “Oh my word!” 

“What is it, mama?” Xuan struggled to peer over her shoulder. As soon as mama saw what it was, she put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God!” 

Grandma Tham was holding a framed picture of her as a much younger woman and Bien holding Xuan, their year old daughter with the inscription, “I will always love you, papa.”

I had never seen Grandma Tham in tears before.  It was more than I had bargained for.  Wiping her tears, she managed to say, “I thought he had this with him when they killed him.  He put it in my bag when I went to talk to that marine.”

Both me and my sister sat there in stunned silence.  She held the photograph to her heart leaving no doubt that love transcends both time and place.