Bin replied, “English now, Hng. You speak English.” He paused and said, “And I love you a lot as well ... but now it is time for you to be strong.”
“I am strong,” she replied, trying to make her face look stern.
Bin hid his smile and said, “I know you are. I will be anxious to talk with you.”
“I telephone in United States,” said Hng. “Six months.”
Bin shook his head and replied, “No. The word is weeks. Say weeks.”
“Yes. Weeeks,” replied Hng. She frowned at her mistake.
“Good. That is good. You call. Linh and I will be waiting.
You be sure it is good before I send Linh.”
“Con có th hy sinh tt c vì ch.”
“English ... please.”
Hng sighed and said, “I will do ...” she hesitated, searching for the word she was looking for, “whatever ... you ask.”
Bin smiled and said, “Good. Very good. I know you will do whatever I ask. I ask that you do whatever for Linh, too.”
Hng nodded seriously as Bin closed the doors.
Minutes later, Bin held his bicycle and stood silently in the rain staring at the empty street. His heart and stomach felt like they were being wrenched from his body. The image of Hng waving at him through the back window of the van would forever be etched in his memory.
Bin climbed on his bicycle and pedalled toward his apartment. He brooded about his last-minute decision not to send Linh to America on the same boat as Hng. People were angry with him, but eventually he was told that the American family understood.
The American family had lost two daughters in an unfortunate accident. The Americans wanted to fill the emptiness they felt and were willing to take his daughters into their home. They would pay for them to go to school in America.
Perhaps, some day, Bin would be allowed to go to America, too. For now, they agreed that Hng would travel first. Another boat was scheduled to leave when it was known that the first boat arrived safely.
Not that there was any real danger, Bin had been told. The passengers would be smuggled into the United States from Canada. Even if the authorities caught them, the worse that would happen is that they would be returned to Vietnam.
If that happened, Bin knew, he would face some criticism from his own government. The opportunity for a prosperous and happy future for his children was well worth that risk. He was told that if all went well, eventually the right people in America would be paid and both his daughters would become American citizens.
Bin heard that there were many other passengers being smuggled. All young women who were being given jobs in the hotel industry. They would have to work to pay for the cost of being brought to America. That would not take long. There was a tremendous amount of money to be made. They would have no problem paying off their debt, even while sending money home to their families.
Bin knew that for many of the young women, their fate would no be so. He had heard rumours that some of the young women lacked morals and became greedy, opting instead to make more money by selling their bodies. Some sent money home to Vietnam for their parents, who became rich, but when asked about their daughters, the shame was evident. They said their daughters worked in hotels or restaurants, but few believed it. Maids in hotels were not paid that much.
Bin had talked at length about this to both his daughters. He had also spoken to the smugglers. If there was even a suggestion that they engage in any impropriety, he would go to the authorities. He was assured otherwise. This family was decent, heartbroken over the loss of their own daughters. He was told that he was foolish to worry. Still, these were his daughters. What father would not worry?
Bin’s daughters were fortunate. They would not have to work at all to pay for their voyage. His was a special situation. Bin’s contact had taken a picture of Hng and Linh standing in front of the One Pillar Pagoda close to where Bin worked. The picture was sent to America and Bin heard that the family instantly loved his daughters. He was told that if his daughters were truly unhappy, then the American family would pay to return them to Vietnam.
Bin thought about the Westerners’ use of the word love. He decided that it was a word they used as if they were saying hello. From Westerners, it sounded about as genuine as the fake Rolexes sold at the market. The Vietnamese expressed love more often through action, by doing something nice for the person. It had more meaning.
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