陳白菊 《 Fast-Growing Family 》 美國

        My father left the herb shop and rented a small house in   Long Thành for himself and his new bride.    In front of his house, he opened a shop and sold shoes, pots, pans, and whatever else he could sell.   His customers were mostly locals and foreigners. My dad learned a few foreigner phrases and confidently used them when he conducted his business. God knows if they understood him, but when there was a gap in communication,   he used his hands and gestures.   He often boasted to us that he knew seven languages, but my skeptical mother would just respond with a scoff of disbelief. Dad would tell us,  “If a French soldier walks into our store, I’ll say ‘Bonjour’;   after I sell something to a Filipino, I will say ‘Salamat’; and when I walk a Japanese customer to the door,   I’ll wave my hand and say ‘Sayonara’”.   We heard these stories a million times. Dad always made it sound like it’s the first time he had ever told us. The truth is, Dad had a knack for languages.   He could even read Vietnamese novels and write well even though he never went to Vietnamese school.

        Life wasn’t easy.   My parents were newly-wed and had a baby on the way.  Their first daughter was born, then came the second, third, and fourth.   All girls.   My father desperately wanted a son to preserve the family name, but  each time he and his young wife were blessed with baby girls. Either way, their little family was constantly expanding. What he earned from his shop could barely feed a family of six. My family later moved to   Phước Long, a small village outside   Long Thành,  to take care of my uncle’s   Chinese  medicine  shop.   Business  began to thrive  and my family settled in nicely.   Then,  a miracle happened:  my brother was born!  The whole family rejoiced. My parents’ prayers were answered!   My  brother,  Anh Sáu,  was smart and very cute. Everyone loved him.  He was a star and everyone doted on the young boy.   In the next five years, Mom would also gave birth to two more girls.

        As with any big family, the older children are the ones to shoulder the heavy responsibilities.With seven small children, my father decided that my four older sisters had to stay home to help out with chores and babysitting.   School was not a necessity; third grade education was enough to know how to count money and read labels on the goods we sold. My sisters begged to stay in school, but what could be done? Someone needed to help out with the store, meals needed to be prepared, and laundry to be done. In addition, there were three toddlers to care for.

        But what God gives, he could take away.   My only brother, Anh Sáu, died from a high fever when he was merely five years old.  Three days later, my baby sister had the same illness as my brother.   She died at seven months old. She  was the most beautiful and happiest baby.   Dad  was  devastated.   It was as if the whole world came crashing down on him.  It was a dark time in our family.   My father spent more time away from home. He’d go fishing for days. When he came home, he would bring back a lot of fish and a temper.   Mom  would be busy cooking and my siblings were happy because they had a nice feast. What we did not know was that my dad was very depressed. The long fishing trips were an escape. He was running away from home, the very place that reminded him of those tragic moments.   Life became tense for my sisters and my mom as Dad’s temper flared during this difficult period.  He would raise his voice with Mom and complained how unclean the house was.   His  voice  was loud enough to shake the  walls  and  struck  fear  into the hearts of everyone.  We  were  relieved  when  he went fishing and were anxious when he returned home.

陳白菊 (Laura Tran)