Plotless Texture Enough?

[Vung Tau, 2/28/25]

Last week, I met an Australian-born 11-month old who was half Vietnamese and half Sri Lankan. Home for Tet, Malik was perfectly happy, but it was nearly time to go home. Since the boy liked me, his mom allowed this full-blooded Vietnamese drifter to carry him across the street. At a grocer, Malik was greeted in basic, accented English by a woman I didn’t immediately recognize. I had met her just once. In her late 40’s, she’s married to an Australian around 70. This Vietnam War vet goes home for a month each year to see dying friends and relatives, and, often enough, to attend a funeral. He’s more at home in Vietnam.

Wife, “There, he can treat his friends to one round. Here, he can keep his buddies drunk for a year.” She’s only exaggerating slightly. Downplaying her exaggeration, I’m only exaggerating slightly.

Giving Malik back, I said in Vietnamese, “You’re so happy here! Why not just stay here?”

Frowning slightly, his mom retorted, “His dad is waiting for him.”