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"You were afraid. Do you remember what I told you?"
I frown and shake my head.
"No?" His eyes become round. "I told you. I told you, 'Do not worry.
It is only the dead playing in heaven's field.' Remember?" He smiles. '"The
land south of the clouds is heaven's playing field."'
I erase the frown from my face and say, "Yes. Now I remember."
"And you would stare up into the trees and try to see them in the sky.
You would always ask, 'Where? I don't see them. Where are they?' And I told
you, you could not see them, but you could hear them. You fell back asleep try­
ing to see them."
Another rumbling comes. This time it is closer. I stare up and I can
barely see a part of the blue sky through the trees' leaves and thick branches,
branches so huge they hold up the sky.
"Stir. Keep stirring," Mother commands me.
*
The stove is too high and I'm standing on a stool in order to look
inside the pot to see what it is I'm stirring. The broth, thick and dark, parts
from the ladle I grip with two hands.
Mother is in the living room, surrounded by Ba Nguyen's mistresses
all standing still as flowers atop foot stools. Tape measure dangling from her
shoulders, a red pencil tucked behind one ear, she moves from one to the other,
inserting pins in frayed hems, measuring arm lengths, cutting patterns from dif­
ferent fabrics, fitting sleeves, tucking cuffs to expose their thin white wrists,
measuring seams, drawing lines down the length of the gowns, cutting away
excess material, darning buttons, stitching clasps and hooks, and all this she
manages to do without tripping over the floor strewn with unfurled rolls of
satin, silk, and cotton, tomato-shaped pin cushions, and spools of thread.
"Stir," Mother says again. "Just stir."
I keep stirring. My arms tire from the thickening broth. In one rota­
tion of the ladle, a fish tail surfaces and sinks, the severed head comes up, the
puckered lips swallow broth and disappear, and plucked eyeballs stare up at
me.
*
Evening, and everyone is gathered at the dinner table: Ba Nguyen,
Mother, myself, and five mistresses. Ly Van and Thanh as well as the others are
dressed in their newly made ao dais, their tunics buttoned. With chopsticks in
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