Aperture on the East (31 page)

It was almost dark when they got to
the beach. They left their shoes with the motorcycle, and started
walking toward the sand. Tuan was delighted that they got to spend
some time alone, but was apprehensive of the conversation that Zoe
had in mind.

“
It’s so beautiful, the
ocean, even at night,” said Tuan. “Don’t you want to just stay here
forever? We should do this more often, walking on the beach in the
evenings when it’s less crowded.”

Zoe didn’t answer right away. She was
a couple of steps behind Tuan. Tuan stopped so that Zoe could catch
up and walk with him side by side, but she just stopped,
too.

“
Tuan,” said Zoe, “I know
how you feel about me. I don’t really deserve all this attention
and devotion. I hadn’t exactly been a good girl.”

“
I don’t know what you are
saying,” said Tuan. “I see a perfect girl in front of me, perfect
in every way, perfect for anybody.”

Zoe smiled. Tuan was emboldened. He
took a deep breath and said, “I love you, Zoe.”

Zoe seemed a little stunned when she
heard it

“
That’s just the problem,”
said Zoe. “I don’t love you that way. I mean, I am thankful for all
you’ve done for me, and I owe you my life. And I do like you a lot,
love you like a sister would a brother, really.”

Tuan was taken aback. His muscles were
tense. He thought that he could change Zoe’s mind by saying the
right words, but he couldn’t find them.

“
Are you okay?” said
Zoe.

“
Tell me why,” said Tuan,
“because I don’t understand it. I am a hundred times better than
those men you used to date. Why won’t you love me?” His voice was
shaking.

“
I just don’t feel it,”
said Zoe. “Anyway, it’ll be years before I’m ready to fall in love,
if at all, and I don’t want you to gamble all that time when we
might not end up together. I regret making poor decisions when it
comes to boyfriends. For now, I want to focus on my studies and
find out who I am, what I really want to be, and how I should
approach this thing called life before I will even consider being
with a man again. It’s a big world out there, full of
possibilities. I can be more than just somebody’s girlfriend. I am
much more than that.”

Tuan tried to digest all the grand
rationales and lofty ideals that Zoe just heaved at him. How could
he refute any of that? He agreed with her, but he wanted her so
selfishly.

“
We can do all those
things together. I have been helping you study,” said
Tuan.

“
And I appreciate it,”
said Zoe.

“
What do you want to do?”
said Tuan. “Volunteer at the shelter? Join the Peace Corps? Take up
painting, ballroom dance, or sailing? I will do anything your heart
desires. I will do them with you.”

“
You don’t get it,” said
Zoe. “I need to be by myself, unattached to anyone. I need to grow
as an individual, not as a part of a binary entity. I will never
really find myself if I give in to a romantic relationship
now.”

Tuan looked down, and paced a few
steps away from Zoe. He dug his toes into the wet sand at the edge
of the water, feeling defeated. He turned around. Zoe’s expression
was serious.

“
You can’t stop me from
waiting for you,” said Tuan.

Zoe let out a sigh.

Tuan sighed, too, and said, “I won’t
bother you again, but promise to stay friends with me, even if you
fall in love with someone else after you have discovered yourself,
and have grown as an individual to your satisfaction.” His tone of
voice had softened.

Zoe broke into a smile. Tuan was
teasing her, and that was a sign that he had agreed to let her be.
She threw her arms around Tuan and gave him a gentle
squeeze.

“
Of course, friends
forever,” said Zoe. She let go of Tuan. She dared not hold on to
him for too long, fearing that she might surrender to him after
all. The memory of the first time she embraced him on his
motorcycle came to her, and her skin tingled a little. She bit her
lower lip, and wondered if perhaps, by refusing Tuan, she was
making the biggest mistake of her life.

The alcoholics support group meetings
took place in the home of a wealthy French expat. The house was
built on a headland overlooking the South China Sea, north of the
bustling city center. Clement Simon had come from a prominent
Parisian family and never for one minute of his life worried about
money. After he killed his daughter in a drunk-driving accident, he
spent two years in prison and vowed to never touch alcohol again.
He signed the divorce papers and moved halfway around the world to
escape from the socialites that were still throwing money at
wine-filled parties, gossiping about his misfortune as if they were
somehow above him.

Every Friday evening Clement opened
his house to all who sought support and guidance in defeating their
demons. The attendants were mostly foreigners, and as much as
Clement hated it, the meetings were conducted in English as it was
the most commonly spoken language among the members. They took
turns facilitating the meetings, and encouraged one another to
share their stories. Nothing was too mundane to talk about, Clement
had stressed from the beginning. People were welcome to invoke any
deity to help them with their struggles, but in general, they left
religions out and relied mainly on the strength and wisdom of one
another.

Ana had been attending the meetings
faithfully for a few months now, and had been sober for longer than
she could ever remember. She felt strong and confident, and was
glad that her life was in her control again. She became friends
with all who attended Clement’s meetings. Having a network of
fellow recovering alcoholics with whom she could be honest about
her problems and emotions provided the outlet she would have
otherwise substituted with vodka.

“
So, Ana, what’s this I
hear about you being a photographer?” said Clement one night as
everyone was leaving his house after a meeting.

“
It’s nothing,” said Ana.
“I like playing with cameras and taking pictures. You know I work
at an electronics store and my boss lets me hang my photos there to
help advertise his cameras.”

“
I miss the museums in
Paris,” said Clement, “and I am thinking about hosting an exhibit
in my house. Gary paints and Nancy’s got that pottery wheel. We can
put a show together and invite the whole city to come, locals and
tourists. I’ve got a few empty rooms we can use.”

Ana considered it for a moment, and
started to feel excited about the opportunity to participate in an
exhibit.

“
Are you sure you want all
these people in your house?” said Ana.

“
I want to see what the
interest is like. If we get a big turnout, I will consider buying a
space somewhere and renovate it into a gallery. This could mean
revenue. If it turns out to be a flop, at least we get to see and
enjoy one another’s work. I need some intellectual stimuli.”
Clement chuckled.

“
Sounds like a great
idea,” said Ana. “I will email everyone and find more artists to
participate. And of course, I will help with the installation and
the advertising.”

They agreed to meet and discuss
details later. Ana bounded out of Clement’s house and hailed a taxi
to take her home. The idea of an exhibit was thrilling. She could
get some recognition.

Over the next month Ana
threw herself into the production of the exhibit at Clement’s
house. “East Sea Spring
—
Arts and Conversations” was the
official title. Ana asked Mai to help recruit some Vietnamese
artists to participate as well, and Zoe got the other guitarist
from her band, Nelly, to show some of her pencil sketches and
watercolors. Ana transformed Clement’s house into an art gallery,
and Mai agreed to cater the hors d’oeuvres for the reception on
opening night.

March had arrived once again and Ana
reflected on her year in Nha Trang as she looked herself in the
mirror, getting ready for the opening reception. She was wearing a
flowing red dress, and she let her brunette hair down in long,
bouncy curls. Her face was glowing without the need for much
makeup, a result of her much improved health with alcohol
cessation. The last item she put on was the necklace with the
pearl. She felt a sting in her chest, and let out a
sigh.

“
You look beautiful,” said
Clement when he saw Ana.

“
Thanks,” said Ana. “Are
you glad that your art show has come true? There are so many people
here. I heard that you invited some dealers from overseas. It pays
to have a rich friend with connections.”

Clement grinned at Ana’s remark. Zoe’s
friend, Tam, was playing jazz standards on the piano, and the music
filled the house, providing a backdrop to the lively chatters among
the artists and the guests. Ana was a little nervous, as she had
never been to an event like this before. She was glad that Clement
did most of the talking when he escorted her around the house to
introduce her to important attendees such as the art dealers and a
couple of critics. She felt somewhat inadequate and didn’t want to
contribute to the dialogues. Listening to the experts was more than
satisfying.

“
Tell us about this
photograph,” said an art dealer from Japan. He was pointing at a
black-and-white photograph of three pairs of hands
intertwined.

“
I just took this one
recently,” said Ana. “The hands are those of my children Zoe and
Ivan, and mine. We didn’t always get along, but after we got
through a terrible crisis recently, we had gotten closer now. I
took this photograph to commemorate and celebrate the bond we
formed.”

“
It really stands out, a
very touching piece,” said the art dealer. “I could put this in my
gallery in Tokyo.”

“
That’s very kind of you
to offer,” Ana said, “but it’s not for sale.”

The art dealer raised an eyebrow. Ana
was afraid that she might have offended him, and looked to Clement
for rescue.

“
Ana has other pieces that
you could consider. Right, Ana?” said Clement.

Ana nodded, and then proceeded to
describe her other photographs. The art dealer from Japan was
pacified when he fell in love with a still shot of Ivan’s friend,
Duong, on his skateboard in midair with the blue ocean and sky in
the background. Ana was relieved, and quickly agreed to discuss its
consignment with the art dealer later.

When Ana thought that she had met all
the dealers and critics that Clement had invited, he said, “There
is someone else I’d like for you to meet.”

He took her from the living room to
the outdoors terrace, which was situated at the edge of the
headland. Candle-lit lanterns cast a mellow light in the darkness.
Ana could hear the waves gently slapping against the rocks at the
foot of the promontory. When she looked toward the ocean she saw
the full moon on the horizon and its reflection on the water. It
was more than she could do not to cry, being overwhelmed by such
beauty.

“
Am I meeting the moon?”
said Ana. She put her hands on the stone balustrade, still gazing
at the celestial body in the distance.

“
Ana,” said a familiar
voice.

Ana stiffened a little when she heard
her name. She wanted to turn around to see who it was, but somehow
her body did not allow it.

Time seemed to have suspended while
Ana tried to process what she thought to be some kind of an
auditory hallucination. She blinked twice, and bit her lower lip.
Her heart started to pound a little harder, and her limbs,
trembling, were feeling a little numb.

“
Ana,” the voice called
again.

Ana didn’t dare move. The man
approached her instead, and reached to cover Ana’s hand with his.
Ana’s fingers became the portal through which an influx of emotions
raced to her soul, and her skin rapidly succumbed to the familiar
warmth emanating from the body standing next to hers. She knew all
too well who it was. She just couldn’t believe that it was
happening.

Vo took Ana’s hand off the balustrade
and moved it in a way that made Ana’s body turn to face him. Their
eyes locked at once and Ana felt faint all of a sudden. She managed
to stay on her feet and said, “I-I don’t believe it.”

“
I know,” said Vo, holding
on to Ana’s hand. “I’ve been gone for so long. We didn’t even say
goodbye properly, the way I ran out on you like that. I am so
sorry.”

“
No, I’m the one who’s
sorry,” said Ana. “I was the one to blame. It was a good thing you
found out what a terrible person I was. You would’ve had nothing
but heartaches if you had been stuck with me.” She looked around
for Clement; he had disappeared.

“
You were never a terrible
person,” said Vo. “That wasn’t who you really were. Your life was
hijacked by an addiction. But look at you. I think you’ve won
yourself back.” He inspected Ana from head to toe.

Ana studied the man in front of her as
well. He had on a gray sport jacket, unbuttoned, with a white dress
shirt underneath, the collar of which loose without a necktie.
There was some stubble on the lower part of his face. He looked as
captivating as ever.