When she opened the door of the apartment, Linh did not recognize him, though she did see something familiar in his face.
A nice face, she thought.
At first she she thought he was another American salesman who had business with her mother.
The smells of the restaurant downstairs mixed together with the usual odors of a Saigon morning that wafted through the open windows—exhaust, heating wok oil, charcoal fires, humanity.
The stranger with the nice face smiled.
“You must be Linh,” he said in English.
She did not answer.
He said it again in Vietnamese, his accent strange and stilted.
Usually I don’t offer any explanation of the story, but this one needs it, I think. Cha Là Nhà means “Father’s Home” in Vietnamese. There were more than a few American servicemen with families they were forced to leave when their tour was over.
Goosebumps!
I was going to complain that there was not enough information…and then I reread the first line. Nice that.
I suspect this happened a lot in the late sixties, early seventies. I liked your line: odors of a Saigon morning wafting through the open windows—exhaust, hot wok oil, charcoal fires, humanity… This really evokes great imagery (and smells).
Could picture the restaurant through your words, and the last line left food for thought too :) Lovely.
Nicely understated moment there.
I loved this story. Especially because of the explanation you gave. I would not have understood it otherwise. Touching story!
Thanks. If it were even fifty words longer, I could probably get the rest of it in. There’s a great Mishima story called Thermos Bottles that this picture reminded me of.
I understand about the word crunch leaving you unable to get it into the story. But I think it worked great just the way you did it.
Seems like a happy ending…Nice piece of history too.
A happy beginning, maybe!
I did get the full story.. so many children growing up fatherless. Hope the reunion will give joy to both
Who was this mystery man? Great story. I want to know more!
Great story. The location and the first sentence gives us the full story (once you have read to the end) but you have filled it in with great use of the senses — visual pictures, the smell of the food and other odours of Saigon. This must have been quite common after the Vietnam War. Well written
Oh boy where’s this going? I fear for Linh.
Dear J Hardy,
The explanation did help. Although I think perhaps if he had called her daughter or she had called him father at the end it would have clarified. Either way, I liked this story a lot.
Shalom,
Rochelle
I like my stories to keep secrets. I don’t think that would play that way in life, and to have one of them “break character” by saying “daughter” or “daddy” would give the scene an artificiality that would ruin its balance, I believe. The title is sufficient, but the burden is on the reader to find the translation. If this were a longer story, there would be the mother as well, and all would be revealed.
Good call actually. A good title adds another hundred words.
Agreed! Unfortunately, Google translate doesn’t do a good job with this particular phrase
Thanks for the comment and the like, though :-)
Great story telling here. That ending gave me a welcome emotional jolt.
Very well depicted scene. I felt I was right there.
Brilliant. The first line gives just enough to carry the rest of the story. The title is great, and your translation helpful. I love this story.
Love this! How many are out there not knowing their fathers?