Duong Huong - The Zenith

Rural people still looked upon dreams as omens from heaven and earth, or as threats from evil spirits. Some dreams foretell good happenings, others bad ones. Often, after bad dreams, heavenly disasters or earthly tragedies do occur. And so those on earth must endure sufferings for long stretches. Whether it was only a coincidence or a divine intervention to teach humans, the dream where parent and child did battle occurred right after Mr. Quang’s family drama. Thus all over the three sections, inhabitants of Woodcutters’ Hamlet were perplexed day and night. Perhaps only just before sleep could one lie down quietly with hands on forehead to ponder life; and from sunrise until dark, villagers discussed and passionately argued over this episode. In the evenings, they would gather by threes and fives, but not on the patio of Mr. Quang’s house, nor now at Miss Vui’s — those considered the main characters in the “current drama.”

Two days later, the village Party committee met under the leadership of the hamlet secretary. Chairman Quy was sitting in the provincial jail charged with abuse of power and imprisonment of an innocent person.

It was 100 percent certain that Quy would lose all Party and government positions, and be expelled. Thus the Party section for Woodcutters’ Hamlet had to meet to quickly elect a new chairman and assistant secretary, decisions that would be ratified by the villagers without dissent. In that meeting, the hamlet secretary declared clearly that the committee secretary, Nguyen Thi Vui, had played an outstanding role in preserving the Party’s moral prestige. Thanks to the firm spirit of Comrade Vui, who had acted quickly when village authorities had abused their powers and intimidated an innocent citizen, the district commissar had been able to thwart what might have been a very regrettable incident. For that, the district commissar highly respected the spirit of responsibility and the management skills of Committee Secretary Vui, a most outstanding Party member.

With so many words of praise from the most powerful person in the entire district, naturally Miss Vui instantly became village chairman and assistant Party secretary, to the enthusiastic clapping and heartfelt approval of Party members and assembled voters. After her induction into office, there was a fabulous celebration. Hundreds of banquet trays were scattered around the meetinghouse as well as on the patio; the aroma of wine mingled with that of roasted pig and beef, making the atmosphere happy and intoxicating and letting people forget the reason for their celebration. They didn’t even notice the absence of Mr. Quang, Miss Ngan, and Mrs. Tu during the two entire days of meeting and eating. While everybody was enjoying clinking cups with peers, friends, and elders, nobody was foolish enough to broach sensitive subjects that could easily hurt people’s feelings and give them headaches. But no matter how enjoyable, every party must come to an end.

The people of Woodcutters’ Hamlet had ample reasons to turn their heads and look at Village Chairman Miss Vui with critical eyes after she had received the transfer of power and sat with ease on the chair where Quy had sat before. By that time, those dishes of roast pig, grilled beef in lemon grass and lard, had had time to turn into shit. Therefore, within only some five to seven days, all over the cassava beds, on the tea slopes, people brought up the story of the “Old Maid Dragon” for critical commentary.

According to the accepted account, Quy had stolen from the home of a cousin on his mother’s side an arrest warrant for a prostitute. This cousin was an assistant investigator with the provincial police. It was an old order left in a stack of documents waiting to be filed away. Such saved materials, if not used in appeals or in subsequent investigations, are to be destroyed after twenty-five years. Not at all suspecting his cousin the village chairman, the assistant investigator let Quy sit in his office while he went out to buy beer and snacks to share with his guest. After stealing the order, Quy used a solvent to erase the name of the old defendant and the old date, and replaced them with Miss Ngan’s name and an appropriate new date. Thus, when he read the order sealed by the provincial police and signed by a cadre in the office of investigation, the head of the village police suspected nothing. Besides, because they were colleagues who had worked with each other for many years, he was ready with enthusiasm to do whatever Quy asked. That is also why an entire squad of militiamen poured into Mr. Quang’s house to “apprehend one who deceives men and undermines wholesome customs, Ngan by name.” On the very afternoon of the arrest, Miss Vui had ridden her bike immediately to go tell Mr. Quang. What followed then fell out openly before everyone’s eyes, leaving no need for background explanations.

Rural folk really despise those who undertake clever and dangerous maneuvers, even though they themselves always use little tricks here and there to advance their interests. To them, those who plot cleverly always constitute a dark force that can destroy not only an individual but even an entire family; sometime a hamlet, a village. Those with such dangerous abilities bring to mind old-time sorcerers, who once used magic charms to pull people into blind passions of love, hate, revenge, and stupid acts that drain away one’s humanity. If such a sorcerer was female, then fear and hatred increased geometrically because women were created each with two breasts and two buttocks: the breasts to feed children; the buttocks to make husbands happy. A woman should never act contrary to the nature heaven has bestowed upon her. A woman who in the past presumed to sit on the chair of a village or hamlet chairman was an unpleasant sight to see. But when such authority was seized through a betrayal, such transfer of power would meet with the utmost contempt, according to the old rule: “An honor that thousands see fit to spit on.”

Thus if Miss Vui were smart enough, she would have guessed exactly how people would criticize her behind her back. But with fortune in charge, all intelligence has limits, and so Mr. Do’s daughter became completely intoxicated with the happiness belonging to someone in power, someone who was all caught up in building a nest, rallying allies, and building up defenses around the chair that comes with being chairman. Those tasks diverted her time and attention away from understanding the level of criticism about her among the villagers, those who would dig up every mystery in her heart like the investigator who exhumes the corpse in some unexplained death. The investigation had the feel of “people’s justice,” as all the relevant facts had the character of belonging to the “masses” rather than to some single storyteller. Young and old, big and small, boys and girls, all took part, even though the ones who could officially jump into the discussion were those with formal positions:

“Do you all agree that we are old and stupid? The whole flock, everyone from the upper section down to the lower one, gathers around to listen to the story of Mr. and Mrs. Quang, like a bunch of kids who gather to watch shadow boxing without any idea of why they love it so enthusiastically.”

“Who knows? I thought because of recent wealth, Chairman Vui likes to put on airs, act like patronizing everyone, thus competing with Mr. Quang.”

“Sure, sure…That one cannot be generous or open-minded. The other day my grandchild had the fever with caked tongue. Out of honey, we went to ask her for some. She gave only two spoonfuls.”