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My Dear Na by Doan Le He was a scientist and I was a theatre actress. Some might say our relationship was like a square peg and a round hole. However, we fell in love in spite of the advice and concerns from both of our families.
"He’s very quiet and unfriendly. He considers himself an intellectual and he has an haughty attitude. If you marry him, you’ll lead a miserable life," mum warned me. "What a good-for-nothing actress!" said his older sister with a pout. Meanwhile, in his diary, he wrote, "Even if I was forced to be cremated on a pyre, I would love you dearly, my Na…" Actually, my name was Le. When I was a little girl, I was called Le La, a quasi-Western name, owing to my habit of hanging out and chatting with my friends. I always got very angry if anyone ridiculously called me just "La." Oddly enough, when he sent me a copy of an interesting short story by a Russian writer along with a note that read, "My dear Na, I love you very much," I was deeply moved. From then on he simply called me "Na", rather than use my real name or nickname. Scores of his letters ended with this term of endearment, "Na". I kept my pet name secret. Nobody knew the nickname "Na", except him. *** Twenty-three years later, we met each other by chance at a seaside resort on Do Son Beach in Hai Phong City. He had two good-looking sons and an ailing wife who was always sullen because of her diabetes. As for me, I was burdened with my husband, who was an academic Sinologist, even quieter than my ex-lover. Frankly speaking, it was only because of our pretty fifteen-year-old daughter that we stayed together. By coincidence, our two families stayed at the same seaside hotel, but on different floors. During our first meal we sat at adjoining tables. Throughout the entire meal we tried not to glance at each other too often to avoid bothering our spouses. The next day I said to my husband, "I have business in Ha Noi. You stay here with our daughter and enjoy the beautiful seaside and the delicious seafood to your heart’s content. When you want to head back home, please call me and I’ll come back to bring you both home right away." After a few minutes he agreed. With our daughter there with him he wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to find his thick myopic glasses if he left them somewhere. I took a bus to the train station in Hai Phong City. Paradoxically, as I entered the station to buy my ticket to the capital, I ran right into him as he was, ticket in hand, inching his way out. "What! Where are you going?" he asked me. "I’m trying to get a ticket back to the capital. What about you?" "I’m going to Ha Noi, too." Funnily enough, we were running away from each other only to meet! We changed seats to be close to each other on the train. The train journey gave us enough time to fill each other in on our lives since we last saw each other, 23 years before. Nevertheless, we tried not to deal with our unexpected goodbye later that day. To be honest, I was not to blame for our break-up. It all happened on a fellow actor’s birthday. He was playing the male lead in our play Cinderella, in which I was playing the title role. He was completely drunk and ended up embracing me. I did not have the heart to reprimand him, but unfortunately my lover saw everything. "How romantic you are!" he exclaimed. "What do you have to say for yourself about that tender moment? I don’t think it was merely an accident with a colleague. I can’t stand to see someone else hugging my sweetheart. It’s no small wonder that people have a prejudice against performers!" he said accusingly. "What’s so bad about artists?" I retorted. "On stage you kiss each other to your heart’s content. Outside of the theatre you seem to do the same without shame. In this situation, how could our love be sacred?" Listening to his scornful voice, I was so angry that I could have spit blood. I ran away immediately and swore that I’d never see him again. "Does he look down on my career, or just on me?" I asked myself. "Does he wrongly think that because I am an actor I am a girl of easy virtue?" I cried and cried. If only he had rushed towards me and said he was sorry, I wouldn’t have done it again. I later learned that he had left Ha Noi suddenly for Ho Chi Minh City without telling me. I could not sleep for many nights, unhappy with my lot. *** "You haven’t changed much, just a bit more filled out perhaps," he said sincerely. "Time flies so quickly! More than twenty years have passed," he added. Then he asked me to join him for a plate of chow mein at the Hong Lien Restaurant, where we went a lot when we were in love. Whenever I finished a performance he usually took me to this well-known restaurant to enjoy a hot and delicious snack. "No, it’s impossible, my dear. My mother-in-law is waiting for me at home. Besides, …" "You don’t see me as you once did?" "No, not at all! That restaurant went out of business a long time ago," I replied sadly. I did not dare to say that I had not eaten chow mein for the past twenty years because I was not brave enough to pass by that place. "Sorry! I’ll be staying at my sister’s place for just a few days. After that I’ll go back to Do Son Beach to bring my family back to Sai Gon. Sadly, we probably won’t have any opportunities to see each other again," he told me. I saw endless grief in his eyes. I was about to burst into tears. "Why not? We’ll never lose each other again. Tomorrow, if I’m free, I’ll drop in on your sister’s to meet you." "Great, thanks! I have a lot of things to say, to open my heart to you," he replied joyfully. Then he held both of my hands. His hands, large and warm, were sending thousands of secret amorous words to me, as if we would had never been away from each other. All of a sudden, I remembered his soft arms hugging me tightly. *** We promised to keep in contact with each other frequently over the internet by using nicknames known only to us. "It seems like we are talking about illicit activities, my dear!" I remarked. We both burst into laughter. However, a tinge of sadness could be seen on both our faces. After one embarrassing night, I sent a few lines using our secret nicknames.
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to Dalle08@ yahoo.com: I’m so sorry. I’m unable to see you as promised. Perhaps it’s because I’m afraid. What I’m afraid of, I think you might know and would understand! Suddenly I remember a few lines by the poet To Ha: "The sails have been away, but it’s unlikely that they’ll be safe and sound...…" Anyhow, let things be! At our fixed hour, I went online. There was a note from him with a single line:
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to
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My dear Na, I love you. When I returned to Do Son to collect my husband and daughter, he had already returned to Sai Gon three days before. He had sent me his wholehearted greetings. "Mum, he offered me a silver rose to wear on my blouse and asked me to give you this lily as a souvenir," disclosed my daughter. "Dad was angry and wanted to know his address. Finally, dad told me to remind you to get something special for his wife," she added. I was upset. Finally, I sent him a short letter: I received your flowers. Thank you very much. I remember you used to always send me a bouquet of lilies on my birthday with a card saying, "To my dear Na!" Regrettably, we set aside our most beautiful days only to discover that they would never return. However, with every passing season, the lily remains in bloom in my heart. His answer, dated May 27, was: My dear Na, I love you. I was in despair. "He doesn’t have anything else to say to me, does he?" I asked myself. Afterwards I sent him messages regularly but there was never a reply. At first I wondered what had happened to him, but day after day I began to believe that our encounter was like a downpour or a cool draught hitting me by chance. "Why do I have to keep worrying about it? Forget it. Forget it totally," I whispered to myself. Alas, things were not as simple as I had first thought. One day I received a letter from an old friend who had known both of us. It read: Shortly after his trip to Ha Noi he was in a traffic accident. I remember that it was May 26, the death anniversary of my father-in-law. We were going to our cousin’s to invite him to attend a ceremony. By chance we saw him being taken into the hospital on an emergency stretcher. I stopped and went inside to ask about what happened. It turned out that one of his legs was broken and he was still conscious. Three days later I went to visit him in the hospital with some presents only to find that he had died from a serious head trauma early in the morning. The previous day he had even asked his wife to bring him his laptop so he could work. I wept bitterly. It turned out the message he sent me on May 27 was the last note he sent to me before he died. About two months later my daughter had to go to university abroad. She asked me to let her visit Sai Gon with a friend whose paternal uncle lived there before she left. Two weeks later she returned home, looking tanned from the sun. That night she hugged me and told me a sad story. "Mum, tomorrow I’ll have several photos developed and I’ll show them to you. I think some of them will be very precious to you," she said. The following morning she waited until her father had gone to work then showed me three photos. At first, I did not know what they meant to me: the first two photos were of a beautiful, new grave. The third was a close-up of the grave and I recognised his name and age on the tombstone. In front of it lay a bouquet of lilies. "Mum, I bought this bouquet and placed it there on your behalf to pay homage to him after dropping in on his family. His wife still recognised me. ‘My parents told me to try and find you in order to burn a few joss sticks in your husband’s memory,’ I said to her." "Thank you so much, my dear. I didn’t think that you could do something so thoughtful for me," I expressed my gratitude to her sincerely. "I deliberately waited for dad to leave before showing them to you. You’ll have to give me a big reward," she indulged herself. "OK, a great present! But why did you have to wait until dad left to tell me about this?" I asked her. "Because dad told me that the deceased man used to love you dearly. Is that true? I didn’t want him to get angry." I was surprised! Somehow my husband knew about my previous love affair! And my daughter loved her father more than I thought. It was beyond my imagination. I did not really know how to explain the situation to her. She had grown up noticeably. At last, I told her about my first bitter love affair. On my next birthday, we had a party with some close friends of ours. When we had enjoyed the food and drinks to our heart’s content, I pretended I was a little tired and asked my husband to go with our friends to the karaoke bar. Oh, my poor husband! It was a good opportunity for me to separate him from his normal academic air. Home alone, I went online to look for an email from my daughter. I missed her very much, even though she had only been away from home for two weeks. Mum, I hope you had a happy birthday. I can’t write more today because we’re going sightseeing around Vienna. When I get home I’ll tell you about everything I’ve seen and heard in this world famous city. I hope my mum and dad live a happy life together forever. If only I had stayed at home, I would have given mum a vase of fresh lilies. Your daughter. I sat confused in front of the display. All of a sudden I remembered all those lilies my ex-lover had given me when I was young. Without thinking about it I typed in the nickname Leda08 and saw My dear Na, I wish you a happy birthday! What was going on? This address was only known by the two of us. This message was just sent! Who could have written it, except him. But he was no more. I looked around the room to be sure I was alone. I turned off my PC right away then rushed out of the room. My dear Na, I love you! This expression haunted me endlessly. My head turned round and round. Who? Who had written it? Afterwards, time and again I entered my secret nickname in wait for another miracle. However, nothing new showed up over the entire year. I wondered who had known our nicknames and written that message? Finally, my forty-sixth birthday came around. I sat in front of my PC starting at four o’clock in the morning. I waited and waited. Luckily for me my husband wouldn’t come home before evening. I kept the computer on constantly. For lunch I only ate a bowl of instant noodles. I burnt a joss stick and planted it near the window, close to a vase of lilies. I prayed for his arrival. My dear Na! I love you!…Happy birthday! Surprisingly, this message arrived when I was dead tired. I looked at my watch. It was half past two in the afternoon, the time we used to begin chatting. I was dumbfounded. All of a sudden, a breeze with the sweet smells of incense and lilies wafted over me. I just sat motionless while tears trickled down my cheeks. "Are you still alive, my dear! Whatever happens, do you really still exist in this world, just for me?" I whispered. Translated by Van Minh Nguồn: http://vietnamnews.vnagency.com.vn/
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