Duong Huong - The Zenith

The horses’ footsteps on the road created a sad melody that blended with the driver’s lament. Slowly, sleep came and pulled An into pitch dark waves.

“Wake up! There’s the border defense fort,” the cart owner shouted, waking them.

“Hell, it’s too bright!” Nong Tai cried out, removing the hat covering his face. An immediately closed his eyes because the bright light was like a thousand pins poking them, immediately causing them to water.

After keeping his eyes shut for a while, An covered his face with the hat to get used to the intense light. Then he opened them. The cart owner said:

“I warned you already. People from the north who come here all complain about the sunlight in Nghe An. Nonetheless, you are lucky because today the Lao wind is not blowing.”

“If it does blow, then what happens?”

“Comrades, you are about to go over there. No need for curiosity, you will soon know.”

“Where’s the border fort?”

“See it yet? The highest red dot; that’s where the defenders put their flag. Before it was the French flag. After the revolution it’s a red one with a yellow star.”

An counted out some money and gave it to the cart owner. “Please take this. There is extra to buy honey and grain for the horses.”

The owner put the money in his pocket then bent over to pull out of the cart packages wrapped in dry banana leaves.

“Comrades, you are too generous. I, too, must know my duty. They say that giving and receiving makes everybody happy. Here are two kilos of very good cane sugar. Comrades, in the jungle you can suck the cane to quench your thirst. If you are lucky enough to make it over the pass at the border outpost, then you can give half to the soldiers. Up there they are bored, so every time strangers pass, for fun they find many reasons to make them sit around and wait.”

“Isn’t there a rule?”

“There is no rule, but there they are bored. Very seldom does a horse cart go up here; mostly military vehicles. Civilian cars don’t come here. If you were locked up in that post all year, you would do just the same.”

The cane sugar smelled wonderful. An said, “We need give them only half. We need to go while there is still light.”

“If you had no cane sugar, you two would probably end up sleeping there overnight; not until morning would you be allowed to go on into Laos. Most of the detachment is from the north. They tend to fuss over all kinds of anecdotes about their native region.”

An was quiet. But Nong Tai looked out for a moment, then turned around to tell him in a terrified way, “Brother Thanh, they stand in line to meet us at the top of the hill!”

He looked up and saw the red flag clearly. Indeed, the soldiers were standing in line to block the road as if an ambush was being set. Instinctively he touched the gun on his hip. So, at the same time, did Nong Tai. The two looked at each other.

An lowered his voice and asked the cart owner, “Why do they stand in line like that?”

“Out of boredom,” he replied tersely, without stopping his whipping of the horses. “Anyone in their shoes would do the same. They come to see the horse cart. Later they will look at you two comrades. Then they will gossip. We only hope that they will quickly let you go on.”

“Ah, like that huh?” An said, already thinking of what to do next to get through this stretch quickly and safely.

“Lucky that we’re crude,” An went on. “We don’t much know how to chat with citified soldiers.”

Thinking a bit, he then said, “You are a good-hearted person. Can you stay for a while and chat with them so that they will let us leave quickly? The jungle road at night is not easy going but spending the night will make us breach our duty. We can give you more money.”

“You don’t have to buy me with money,” the cart owner replied briskly. “I take only my fair share as well as that of the horses. If I’m too greedy, heaven will hit me with one calamity after another. But I promise to help you, Comrades. I will sit and chat with them for half an hour. The sun will still be on the mountaintop for about one and a half rods.”

About ten minutes later, they reached the top of the hill. The soldiers immediately surrounded the horse cart, their faces excited as if they had received a gift.

“Hello, Comrades!” said the cart owner in a loud voice.

“Hello, Uncle. It has been a while since a horse cart has climbed up here,” one of the lonely soldiers replied.

“Yes; a horse coming up here just once takes a month to recuperate. I only use the whip on special occasions. Today, I carry two military comrades for a special mission.”

“Whatever the mission, there must first be a stop here for a good chat.”

An and Nong Tai jumped down, pulling out their orders for presentation. One of the soldiers seized both passes and put them in his pocket, not even caring to glance at them. Then another, wearing the insignia of a captain, said, “Please, Comrades, do come into the fort.”

The soldiers entered first, An and Nong Tai following.

As if he could see the worry on their faces, the cart owner said, “You just go in, rest, and have some tea. I will feed the horses and join you soon. Remember the two packages of cane sugar.”

“I have them here,” An said.

The defensive fort was built above a ravine, three buildings placed in a U shape in the style of Vietnamese living in the plains, with a stone patio in the middle. A small cement blockhouse sat next to the main building, definitely built under French rule. Next to it stood a wooden watchtower. Behind the building on the left, about fifty meters down the hillside, was a horse pen with about ten horses grazing grass; they were the main means of transport for the soldiers assigned to the fort.

“Tomorrow, these horses will undoubtedly chase us as we try to get away,” An reckoned. “In the worst case, we will have to send at least half a dozen of them to hell before we die.”

They entered the main building, which was quite spacious, with a large Ping-Pong — like table in the middle covered with scattered teapots, newspapers, a radio, cigarette packs, knives, flashlights…Glued up on the walls were photos cut from picture magazines of beautiful girls from performing troupes. The senior captain, obviously in command of the fort, threw out an order:

“Someone go boil water for a new pot of tea.”

A voice from the courtyard immediately said, “I am reporting that we have the fire going.”

“We will die stuck here with them. I must find a way to escape…” An thought, but he said, “Reporting to you, Comrades…”

“That’s fine. You can report after we have a drink. We are all soldiers. You are infantry; I am with the border defense guard. We get up like anyone else when we hear the horn in the morning. We don’t often meet each other. There’s no rush — even if you were to leave now, you wouldn’t have enough time. It may be sunny right now but darkness comes on very quickly. This place has lots of light during the day but at night the mountain fog comes thick like cotton.”

An began to get nervous. This “lovelorn” soldier clearly presented a danger. Luckily, just at that moment, the cart owner returned. He walked slowly into the building while singing a song about flirty girls:

“Maybe you’re married but your husband is away, come here by me,

It’s isolated and lonely here, but no one can see.…”

The senior captain turned to the cart owner with a big smile: “Why do you, old man, ask someone’s wife to come over and not fear doing wrong?”

“I am not asking anyone over. That’s a song of the old guys in the old days.”