Dukkha Reverb. Loren W. Christensen
you up on that. My ride is at the far end.”
I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but suddenly the invisible weight Bobby was carrying earlier is gone. Just like that.
We walk silently side by side out onto the sidewalk where a mob of people look anxiously at us to see if we’re their loved ones. I start to scan the crowd looking for—
“Sam.”
I freeze. I know that voice.
“Over here, Sam. To your right.”
At nearly six feet, Mai towers over everyone, many of whom are staring at her unabashedly. She’s behind several people so all I can see is her cascading raven-black hair framing a face that would make a monk question his life choices. What sends my heart rate so high that I’m in danger of needing a defibrillation are those exquisite brown eyes, their hint of elongation. Even from fifteen feet away they electrify each and every nerve up and down my spine.
Bobby’s voice comes from somewhere off to my side. “Dude! Is that tall chick the one you’re coming to see? Daaaamn!”
Mai snakes her way to the front of the crowd only to have another group move in between us. She laughs as she slips around them and resumes heading toward me.
“Excellent choice,” I barely hear the boy say. “Her legs in those jeans go on and on.”
“Mai,” I half whisper as she nears.
“I’m out of here, Sam,” Bobby says. “I’ll call you in a couple days.” He sings, “Have fuuuun.”
“Sure,” I say, without moving my eyes from Mai’s.
Mai and I lightly grip each others arms. She warned me on the phone that we can’t kiss or hug because it’s still considered taboo by most.
“Hi,” I whisper.
You know, people joke about those romance novels, but man-oh-man, it’s just as those writers described. The room really does spin and sounds really do muffle.
“Sam. I am so happy you have come,” she says with a slight nod, acting properly for those watching us. “Did you have a good trip?” I can see the green specks in her eyes now.
“Yes, thank you.” I so want to maul her. “It’s an incredibly long trip.” That’s all, just maul and maul and maul. “I hope you didn’t have to wait long.” And maul. “Time is a bit confusing to me right now. I’m not sure if we were on time or not.” Maul.
She smiles. “Yes, you were on time. It is five-ten in the afternoon.”
We had emailed each other dozens of pictures and did the face-time thing on the computer, but seeing her again in person just about sucks the breath out of my throat. Every doubt I had is sucked out with it.
“Mai,” I say, it sounding almost like a sob. “I am so happy to see you. I cannot express how much…” Am I tearing up?
Her eyes penetrate mine and tickle the inside of my skull. She nods almost imperceptibly, whispering, “I know. I thought this day would never come. My…” she looks down for a second, and then lifts her eyes to meet mine. “My heart has hurt for all these weeks. But now… it sings.”
My face muscles spasm into what can only be a goofy-looking smile. “Mine too.”
Oh man, if the guys on the Detectives floor could see me now, their teasing would be relentless. Hey Sam, is that your heart I hear singing?
I don’t bother wiping away my tears. “I can’t believe that I’m actually here—”
Shouts. Movement from my left.
“Something is happening,” Mai says, gripping my arm.
A woman’s scream. Another. The mass of people that had been waiting for arrivals press back from the disturbance. From where I’m standing it looks like… a fight?
When the crowd begins backing in our direction, I pull Mai protectively behind me. In an instant, my inner cop kicks in and I’m back on my beat working my way through a crowd that has surrounded a street fight.
“Sam, no,” Mai says in my ear, her hands on my shoulders. “Do not interfere here.”
I stop. “Whoops. I was on autopilot there for a second.”
“I do not know that word but it is very important that you not interfere. The police here are not the same—”
“Bobby?” I say, spotting him through an opening in the crowd. The boy is struggling with two men, both dressed in dark slacks and white overshirts. “What the…”
“You know him?”
“Yes, Bobby Phan.” They each have one of his arms, gripping hard as the boy writhes to get free. “We rode together all the way over. Who are those men?”
“I saw them when I was waiting. I noticed because they looked so serious and everyone else so happy. And they looked at every young face.”
“Lai Van Tan’s men?” But why would they attack him? Was he supposed to lead me to them?
“I do not—”
“Bobby!” Female voice coming a few feet from my left. “Bobby!” There, pushing through the crowd. A teenage girl, orange blouse, black satin pants.
The men are pulling Bobby in opposite directions. If they were stronger they would pull his arms out of their sockets. I take a step in that direction.
“Mai, I just can’t stand here and let them—”
Bobby launches a beautifully executed roundhouse kick into the face of the man on his left and, without returning his foot to the sidewalk, hook kicks his heel into the side of the other man’s neck.
“Oh, man!” I blare, shocked at the sight of the men stumbling back, one clutching his blood-spurting nose, the other swaying drunkenly as he reaches feebly toward his neck. “Bobby!” I shout, but he doesn’t hear me. He grabs his backpack and dashes for the girl’s extended hand. She leads him quickly through the crowd, and they’re gone.
The nosed-kicked man shouts something that I wouldn’t understand even if it wasn’t muffled by his hand that’s holding his nose in place.
“What should we do, Mai? I’m out of my element here. I don’t—”
The man shouts something again at the crowd and begins pushing his way through the people who have closed the path that Bobby and the girl took.
“Wait, Sam” Mai says urgently. “Do not do anything.”
I start to say that we have to find Bobby, but Mai’s raised palm hushes me as she strains to hear what the man who ate the neck kick is telling those holding him up.
“Okay,” she says. “These men are not Lai Van Tan. They are canh sát, policemen. He says the boy is… what is the English word? He leave parents. He run…”
“Bobby is a runaway? A runaway?”
“Yes, that is the word, runaway. Policeman say he leave his home without permission. Canh sát were trying to, uh, catch him for his father in California.”
So that’s why his demeanor changed when I asked about his parents. That’s why he was acting so suspiciously after the plane landed and while we were processing out. He was watching for the police.
“Can we go look for him, Mai? I want to see that he’s okay.”
“Yes, we are going that way anyway.” She picks up one of my bags.
She leads me around the crowd and over to the curb where there are lines of parked taxis of every make and color, and a mad horde of drivers calling to us and reaching for our arms as we pass. He could be in any one of these cars and—
“Sam!”