The Beauty of Humanity Movement (152 page)

BOOK: The Beauty of Humanity Movement
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“Do I know you,” says the owner, “or do you have an evil twin at home?”

“Who taught you the recipe?” Bình asks the next day.

“Why do you care?” says the owner.

“Look, what are you doing here every day?” the owner asks toward the end of the week.

“It’s a public place, isn’t it?” says T
.

“People like you make me want to quit my job.”

“Actually,” says T
’s father, seizing this opportunity, “we were wondering how much you pay to rent this place.”

“Rent?” he bellows. “I own the damn building.”

T
’s father proceeds carefully, scratching his chin. “Do you have any idea what the rents are like around here?” he asks. He lowers his voice and whispers: “I bet you could make fifty times the amount of money you make selling ph
if you were to rent out the space.”

“A guy said that to me once,” says the owner, “but it turned out he wanted to open a nightclub. I don’t want a nightclub in here, or some kind of opium den. My wife, kids and grandkids live upstairs.”

“What about renting it to another ph
cook?” T
’s father asks. “Keeping it as a restaurant.”

The owner leans his chin on his broom handle. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Old Man H
ng,” T
’s father says.

“I thought he was strictly a street seller.”

“His fortunes have recently changed.”

“Oh yeah?” says the owner, and T
knows his father has this old bastard by the balls.

The Afterlife

F
or the first time ever, T
’s father asks him to drive the motorbike. T
pushes it out into the alleyway and his father climbs on board behind him, saying, “My eyesight is not so good at night anymore.” A great surge of passion for his family comes into T
’s throat, the recognition of his duty as eldest and only son.

They are off to see the old man at the hospital. Lan is there at his side as she tends to be more often than not, lifting H
ng’s spirits with her presence. T
has responded to H
ng’s request for a notebook and pen, and day by day he is making notes, recording the words she feeds him line by line. They grow silent when T
and his father approach the bed, sharing secrets.

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