Chapter 3: Chapter 3
In the morning, the atmosphere in Tan Son Nhat airport was a flurry of activity. People streamed in and out of every aisle, in a rush to check in or out and to avail themselves of the customs services. The flight crews of various airlines paraded in their vibrant uniforms, moving swiftly like they were running a marathon. Amidst this commotion, a girl stood unnoticed in a corner of the checkout hall, positioned close to an inconspicuous vending machine. Clad in an outdated blue T-shirt and dark brown pants, she appeared somewhat awkward, clutching a small package tightly against her chest. Her gaze wandered wide-eyed across the bustling crowd, seemingly lost in bewilderment.
Yes, it was Dinh. These past days had been the most overwhelming of her life. The customs and procedures during her long journey from her hometown to the airport in Hanoi and eventually to this bustling airport had left her mind reeling. She needed a moment to acclimate to her new surroundings. As her mind gradually settled, she refocused on the purpose of her trip. Retrieving old pictures of her parents, particularly the ones capturing their wedding day, she held memories of them close. Though the photographs had aged, one thing was clear - the unmistakable faces of her beloved parents.
She set about her task, venturing into the heart of the airport and approaching anyone she could find to inquire about her parents. However, it seemed that no one cared much for her quest; they merely jerked their heads in her direction before swiftly continuing on their way. Some regarded her with suspicion, possibly fearing involvement in a potential scam.
'Miss, do you know the people in this picture?' she asked, showing the photo to the lady closest to her on the left.
'No, I don't,' the woman replied, shaking her head and hastening toward the souvenir area. It appeared she hadn't spared even a second's glance at the photo.
'You didn't even look at it! How would you know?' Dinh insisted, her voice growing impatient.
'Sorry, I don't know,' the woman replied, before moving even further away.
'Out of my way, you silly girl!' came a high-pitched exclamation from someone behind her, drawing curious looks from those around them.
Startled, Dinh turned to face an elderly man with grey hair and a protruding belly, dressed in a business suit. She quickly realized that she had accidentally stepped on his polished shoes. His face contorted in irritation, resembling a crumpled piece of paper, as he stared aggressively at her.
'Sorry, Sir, I'm so sorry about that. Let me wipe your shoes,' Dinh said, flustered and apologetic, reaching for a small cloth from her package.
'Not this time, silly! How on Earth do people find someone in the airport these days? Go to the police or use Facebook for that. You're blocking my way and wasting my time,' he man bellowed, wobbled toward the gate for departing flights, he looked exactly like a black penguin chasing after fish on the ice.
The mention of the police sparked a realization in Dinh. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier? Her grandpa had once told her that the police were the ones who helped people in need.
'Sure, that must be it!' Dinh affirmed, her determination renewed as she approached a staff member in the check-in area to inquire about the location of the police. The staff member kindly provided her with directions and even helped her book a motor taxi.
Having paid the taxi driver 50k VND for a mere 2 km, she lamented over her spending, imagining that if she had known the way, she could have walked there in just 10 minutes. 50k VND was equivalent to the price of two big bundles of firewood that she collected one morning. Shaken by this regret, she approached the police station and made her way through the main hall, passing by various counters serving citizens. Finally, she arrived at the only vacant table in the center, where two police officers were seated. One was stout, while the other was slender, creating a resemblance to the number 10 as they sat side by side.
'How may I assist you?' asked the portly officer, his eyes squinting in a friendly smile.
'I'm looking for my parents,' she said hopefully, pulling out the picture to show them.
'And who are they?' asked the thinner officer, his voice a tad higher than the average man's, almost causing her to drop the photo in surprise.
'They are my parents. I just said that,' Dinh replied, her voice betraying her astonishment.
'Oh, of course, I understand. Just routine, you know. If you were a police officer, double-checking is necessary,'. The thin officer awkwardly excused himself, rubbing his nose, while he stepped heavily on the stout officer's foot to stop his crazily laughing, which abruptly turned into a hiccup.
Unaware of the odd behavior of the police officers, Dinh began to share her story, from her upbringing in the remote area to her daily life in Lung Cu. They were the first ones she could confide in after her grandpa's death, releasing all the loneliness and anxiety that had been building up inside her. However, the two police officers began to sense that something was not quite right, but by then, it was too late. The more she talked, the less likely they were to interrupt this little girl. It was as though she were a robot, once turned on, speaking relentlessly until someone found the power-off button. Helpless, the officers could do nothing but exchange glances and listen to her story.
"And you know, I came home and called my grandpa, but found him lying on the bed. Despite shaking his shoulder and shouting his name, he lay stiffly. Do you know why?" Dinh sobbed.
'Why?' The police officers inquired simultaneously, their eyes wide open as they waited for the answer.
'Cuz he's dead! I found him dead in bed,' Dinh shouted, bursting into tears, startling the stout officer. This guy nearly jumped out of the chair, while the thin one remained composed, handing her a tissue, sensing he finally found the power-off button:
'Okay, okay, I understand your story. Your grandpa's death brought you here to find your parents,' he continued at a breakneck speed, as if reactivating Dinh's nonstop speaking function. 'Now I'm truly sorry about your grandpa, but we need to follow the procedure.' He reached down to the desk and picked up a form, handing it to Dinh.
'You need to fill out this form, and then we'll help you find your parents,' the stout officer explained impatiently, sharing the same fear as his colleague.
'But I don't understand something on there, you know, 'What is the gender, nationality, race ..' Dinh asked, gazing at the officers with innocent eyes, seeking the explanations.
'Okay, okay, we'll fill the form out for you. Just answer promptly to what we ask,' the stout officer interrupted her.
'Alright, let's start with the first one. What is your full name?' the thin officer asked.
'My full name is Tu Dinh Doan Dinh. Tu is my family name, Dinh is my last name, and Dinh Doan is my parents' name. I put it there so I wouldn't forget them,' Dinh proudly answered.
'What? Dinh Doan? Why does it sound like "đuỳnh đoàng?' the stout officer muttered. The two police officers exchanged glances and burst into raucous laughter, the more they laughed, the more irritated Dinh became. Although she didn't understand the words, the way they laughed indicated something negative.
Apparently, "đuỳnh đoàng" imitated an explosion in Vietnamese, and the police officers had just undergone boom disposal training. They were more sensitive to such a name than anytime.
'Alright! What's your ID number, bomb girl?' the stout officer accidentally slipped, causing the slender officer to laugh even harder, banging his fist on the table.
'Who is bomb girl? What is an ID?' Dinh asked, perplexed.
'I mean, what is your ID number, Dinh,' the other officer clarified.
'I don't know what an ID is, I don't have one,' Dinh admitted honestly.
'Oh, so you don't have one,' the stout officer responded before asking, 'Or do you have a Household Registration Book?'
'I've never heard of that before. I don't have one either,' Dinh explained.
The two suddenly adopted a serious demeanor, rising simultaneously and approaching Dinh with an intimidating air.
'We're sorry, but it appears you might be an illegal resident. We'll need to detain you for questioning,' they declared.
Before Dinh could grasp the meaning of these words, their actions set off an alarm within her. They seized her arms firmly and gestured towards a room located behind their table. Something felt off; it was like a scene from one of the police and crime stories her grandpa used to narrate.
'No, I'm not illegal!' Dinh, fearful of being apprehended, wriggled her shoulders vigorously in an attempt to break free. To the astonishment of the two officers, they lost their balance and tumbled to the ground. They had never imagined being toppled by a petite girl. They scrambled to their feet, exchanging doubtful looks before giving chase and hollering, 'Stop! Hands up! I am armed!'. But it was too late; she darted towards the door, leaving the officers floundering behind.
Running had always been second nature to Dinh; growing up in the rugged terrain of Lungcu, she had learned to outrun wild beasts since the age of four. If one were to include her martial arts training sessions, her grandpa's roaring voice echoed in her mind, 'Hurry up, girl! Are you a snail? Run as if a cheetah chasing you uphill!'
In a blink, she reached the gate. Without pausing to look around, she sprinted forward and, with a sudden 'thud,' collided with someone. Uttering apologies continuously without glancing at her victim, she hastily regained her footing and sprinted away at lightning speed, leaving the man sprawled on the ground.
'Did she rob a bank or something? That speed could win an Olympic gold medal, indeed,' the man grumbled in pain, his admiration for her velocity apparent.
'Officer Duy, have you seen a girl running around here?' the stout and thin officers, out of breath, intercepted him, questioning urgently.
'Are you referring to the Champion Olympic sprinter? Yes, I just saw her pass by,' Officer Duy replied, pointing in her direction before striding towards the police station. His figure resembled that of an ancient Greek statue disappeared through the gates of the District 7's police station.
Dinh continued her mad dash, feeling as if the two officers were cheetahs hot on her heels, until she grew weary. After making sure there was no sign of the pursuing officers, she surmised that she had crossed two hills in her flight. Taking a deep breath, she sought solace and respite in the nearby greenery, settling on an empty bench by the lake to recuperate and collect her thoughts.
The idea of relying on the police for help had completely failed. How was she supposed to find her dad and mom in this bustling city with millions of people? Dinh's stomach rumbled, reminding her that her last meal was a meager snack served on the flight. She needed to eat first. Getting up and foraging for food. Her nose was suddenly tantalized by a delicious aroma wafting through the air. Her senses led her to a food cart selling mouthwatering baked rice cakes at the park entrance. The scene was lively and inviting, with groups of patrons sitting on stools gathered around the stall, sharing hearty meals and engaging in cheerful conversation. Dinh felt a strong urge to join in.
Observing the display of crispy rice cakes being grilled over an open fire, she couldn't resist and asked the vendor, 'Mrs., how much for one cake?' She had heard from her grandpa that everything in the city was exorbitantly priced.
'20,000 VND for the standard, or 30,000 VND for the special, young lady. How many would you like? We have different fillings available: chicken, beef, and eggs,' the enthusiastic seller offered.
Dinh thought that 20,000 VND was reasonable, so she chose the standard option. She took a seat on one of the plastic stools scattered around the food stall and watched as the skilled vendor prepared the cake. The elderly lady placed a plain rice cake on a metal rack over the fire, which was fueled by coal for that extra special flavor. Her hands moved swiftly and deftly, like a loom in a weaving machine.
First, she added a piece of cheese to the cake, waiting for it to melt before cracking an egg onto the rice cake and expertly scrambling it evenly with a wooden spoon. Once the eggs had condensed and firmed up, she took a generous spoonful of rendered pork fat mixed with minced scallions, often referred to as the soul of various savory street foods in the country. To create this unique flavor, people would melt pork fat instead of using oil to give their dishes a richer taste. The rendered fat was then boiled until it reached 100 degrees, at which point the finely minced scallions were added. This mixture was perfect for enhancing the flavors of any savory dish. Then, the lady artfully used two tongs to hold the cakes in place and spun them around the fire for an even cooking. The cakes appeared to dance under her skilled hands, truly satisfying to the eyes. To complete the dish, the vendor added a generous helping of dried beef floss.
In no time, a crispy and aromatic cake was served to Dinh, with the cheese still crackling beneath the crust. It came with a small bowl of dipping sauce, a balanced blend of sweet and tangy tamarind paste. The cake had been cut into five small pieces, and Dinh couldn't wait. She picked up a piece, dipped it into the sauce, and was instantly blown away from the first bite. The crunchy roasted rice cake, combined with the rich, gooey cheese, the aromatic scallions, and the zesty beef floss, created a perfect snack for any occasion. She felt satisfied after eating a piece and taking a sip of sweet and refreshing soybean milk, that was enough for her dinner. As she was preparing to settle the bill, her gaze drifted towards the special cakes grilling over the open flame. They appeared even more enticing, with several eggs jiggling on the surface of the rice cake. Imagining herself taking a bite of the sunny-side-up egg and relishing the creamy yolk melting in her mouth, Dinh felt a surge of anticipation. However, her financial constraints reminded her to be frugal, preventing her from indulging in a second serving.
After dealing with hunger, she pulled out the picture, determined to continue her search, despite having been disappointed many times before. Patience was the most defining trait of her Tu family's artistry, and she walked around the greenery, trying to reach as many people as possible.
'Uncle, do you know these people?' she approached a man skateboarding along the small path near the lake.
'What? Uncle? Hey girl, I'm just 25 years old. Do you think it's too soon to be calling me uncle?' the man retorted, visibly upset. He quickly reassessed his trendy T-shirt and high-end sneakers, searching for any signs of a more youthful appearance.
'Sorry, could you tell me, have you ever seen these people?' Dinh asked, her eyes brimming with hopefulness.
'Well, I don't know why in this day and age, someone would still be trying to find people by showing pictures. Why don't you just post on Facebook?' The man responded, clearly bewildered and somewhat skeptical.
And, of course, he became the next listener to her story. After enduring 30 minutes of her continuous narration about her situation, he finally interrupted her.
'Okay, okay, I get it. In short, you live in the mountains and know nothing about the internet,' he summarized.
'Yes, I have never known about it, so my grandpa, the people that I told you about, I sometimes met them when I went to the market to...' Dinh continued to explain, but he quickly cut her off.
'Stop, I got that. Remember, if you want to find your parents on Facebook, you have to do nothing but listen to me, okay" the man interjected impatiently.
'Yes, I promise you, I will...' she started before being silenced by a stern 'shushing' from the man. He led her to a mobile phone store, and they ended up purchasing the cheapest one that could connect to the internet. It technically wiped out almost her remaining pennies. The expense of the ticket and the phone left her with almost no money, but the thought of finding her parents left her with no other choice. Sensing trouble if he had to explain to her how to post on Facebook, the man pretended to receive a call demanding his immediate return home.
'My mom just asked me to come back home immediately,' he said.
'For what?' Dinh uttered absentmindedly.
'For my business!' he yelled, startled both Dinh and the shop owner, they looked at him with bewilderment.
'My dog is going on a date with his girlfriend. I have to take him to her right now; otherwise, you'll be responsible for their breakup,' he hastily excused himself. Subsequently, his exit seemed as swift as a tornado, leaving both her and the shop owner speechless.
Dinh turned to the shop owner to ask Facebook stuff. As he tried to explain everything about it, he could understand why the skateboarding guy had vanished from the scene as quickly as water evaporated in the desert. Now, he found himself responsible for the incomplete task. Holding his head, he wished his mom were still alive to ask him to walk their dogs. Two hours later, they managed to post the very first news for Dinh on Facebook. Saying goodbye to the shop owner, Dinh felt truly pleased. Now she could wait for people to tell her about her parents. With this comforting thought, she happily skipped along the path, illuminated by the streetlights that lit up the surroundings. However, a new problem hit her terribly: where would she sleep tonight with only a few pennies in her thin wallet.
She lost count of the streets she passed while searching for a place to spend the night. The cost of even the most rundown hotel seemed exorbitant to her. Roaming the streets, she checked her Facebook every minute in the hope of finding some clue, but her efforts were in vain. Obviously; with a new account, who would take notice? Dinh didn't know it, she just felt the weight on her shoulders increase, as if she were carrying heavy rocks. Her eyes scanned the bustling street, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might have information about her parents. Should she show them pictures of her parents, or would it be just another futile attempt like the ones before? Suddenly, the crowd came to a halt as they reached a crossroad, and the pedestrian light turned red. Amid the throng, she spotted a man with cloud-colored hair. 'Grandpa,' she whispered involuntarily, even though she knew it couldn't be him. Just then, an old man appeared about five meters ahead of her, impeccably dressed in a finely tailored suit and trousers. The light switched to green, signaling people to start moving. From behind the old man, a young fellow in a black cap suddenly lunged toward him, causing both of them to fall to the ground. Before she could even react to the young man's rude behavior, another person emerged from somewhere and dashed to the fallen duo. He swiftly grabbed the wallet that had slipped from the old man's possession and disappeared into the crowd. The man in the black cap followed him closely. Having witnessed the entire scene, Dinh raised her voice and alerted everyone,
'Thieves! They've stolen this old man's wallet!' She pointed in the direction the culprits had fled, then hurried after them, leaving the astonished old man and the murmuring crowd behind.
Two delinquent youths slinked away into the twisting streets, intoxicated with the triumph of their ruse. Their anticipation grew at the sight of the seemingly bulky wallet, promising a hefty sum of money. Their eyes glinted with a malevolence that was unmistakable. However, their celebration was abruptly halted by a thunderous sound that seemed to explode in their eardrums:
'Stop!' A forceful kick landed on one's back, causing him to stumble onto the hard ground, while the other received a blow to the neck as he turned to see what was happening. Both lay sprawled on the ground, clutching their hurting body parts, half-reclining as they struggled to figure out what had nearly sent them to meet their ancestors.
'Where is the old man's wallet?' Dinh demanded, she loomed over the thieves menacingly.
'You filthy girl! I'll have your legs before you can even scream,' one of them snarled, his neck vein bulging with anger, though his hand still clutched his chest.
'Let's teach this girl a lesson. She needs to learn some etiquette' the other, with a swollen neck, jeered, the word 'etiquette' sounding strangely unjust coming from him
'Come on, let's do it!' The two sprang from the ground, standing opposite her. They swung punches at her face, but before their fists could find their mark, their brains registered a searing pain in their hands. Dinh had caught their wrists in mid-air and twisted them abruptly inwards. The two screamed like trapped rats, their eyes bulging in agony, wheezing in pain. A moment later, they found themselves being kicked to the ground, their hands firmly pinned to the earth by Dinh's feet. They attempted to retreat, only to face even more pressure.
'Where is the man's wallet?' Dinh inquired again, pressing her feet even harder onto the thieves' hands.
'Sister, please forgive us!' they pleaded, their voices a continuous stream of apologies.
'Tell me where the wallet is. Don't waste my time,' Dinh snapped, her temper flaring.
'Here, take it. It's yours!' One of them fumbled to retrieve the wallet from his chest pocket with his free hand, his mouth begging for forgiveness nonstop.
Dinh took the wallet, just as the old man approached and witnessed her victory over the thieves on the ground. As she returned to the old man to give him the wallet, the thieves seized the opportunity, vanishing into the crowd, blending seamlessly with the throng of people on the crowded street.
The man looked at her benevolently and handed her a tissue to wipe the sweat off her forehead.
'Thank you so much. If you hadn't been there, I would have lost it forever, and we can't dream up anything for the police. Are you okay?' the man expressed his gratitude.
'I am thirsty,' replied Dinh honestly. She really needed something refreshing.
'No big deal, girl. Follow me; I know a perfect drink place nearby. It's on me,' the man eagerly said.
They stopped at a coffee shop just one block away. The waiters seemed quite familiar with the old man, and he asked if the old man could order his usual salted lemonade. The old man confirmed two cups of it. They sat down at a table near the counter.
'My name is Tran Binh, but just call me Uncle Tran. What's your name, girl?' the old man asked.
'My name is Tu Dinh Doan Dinh. Tu is my first name, Dinh is my last name, and Dinh Doan are my parents' names,' Dinh said proudly, receiving the drink brought by the waiter.
The man nearly choked on his drink at the mention of the names Dinh Doan.
'Sorry! Sorry! Just your parents' names reminded me of something, ha ha ha,' he managed to explain through his fits of coughing, unable to contain his laughter.
Dinh looked visibly irritated. The way everybody laughed about her parents' names upset her.
'Why do you look so sorrowful?' Sensing something was wrong from Dinh's expression, the man stopped laughing and asked her.
Seizing the moment, Dinh poured out her story, like an unlimited waterfall. Unlike the previous listener, with age comes wisdom, and in this case, empathy. Mr. Tran listened to her story with concern. Sometimes he would respond with, 'Well, it is,' or 'Hmm, and then what?' to cheer her up.
'Now you have to find your parents, and you have no place to sleep and no money for food?' Mr. Tran asked.
'Yes, I feel blue and lost. What should I do now?' Dinh said, holding her head, her face gloomy on the table.
'I might not be of much help, but I can find you a temporary shelter,' Mr. Tran replied slowly, waiting to see Dinh's face light up before continuing.
'There's an apartment in my building that just became vacant. I've been busy, so I haven't put it up for rent yet. You're a kind girl, and you need help. I think it's my duty to let you stay there temporarily,' he said.
'Really, sir?' Dinh immediately perked up, her eyes sparkling with glee.
'Because you don't have any money, I'll let you stay for free for one month. For the following month, it'll be 1.5 million per month,' Mr. Tran said, noticing her face starting to return to a sorrowful state, her eyes filled with naivety, like a deer that had been wounded.
'How about 1 million per month, no bargaining? Deal.' Mr. Tran reduced the price slightly.
'Deal,' Dinh replied weakly. At least she had a free place for a month, and as for the following months, she thought she would figure it out later. Today, it was enough.
They headed to Building named Sunrise, which was located in the center of the city. The rent was quite high, but the place he offered Dinh for free was in the basement, used as a parking space for residents. That could explain why its rent was very cheap. The faint scent of petrol and engines lingered in the air, but the room itself was insulated well enough to keep the odor at bay. The cramped room, about 10 square meters in size, boasted only a weathered, uncomfortable bed.
'Quite outstanding, right?' Mr. Tran said to Dinh proudly. His words were interrupted by a rat that scurried past, making Dinh cry out in disgust, while his grin remained unfaltering, as if he hadn't noticed it. Smiling was the very first fundamental skill for a man who wanted to become rich through real estate dealings, he needed to naturally praise his property, regardless of its shortcomings.
'And here's a private bathroom for you, great, huh?' He swung open the door at the corner, only to have a part of it detach and clatter to the ground, causing Dinh to recoil before he could finish his sentence. Inside the dilapidated bathroom stood an ancient toilet and shower, appearing more weathered than Mr. Tran himself. Dinh couldn't discern their original color through the layers of grime. Returning to the room, Mr. Tran surveyed the empty space, remarking, 'A bit bare; you'll need some bedding and pillows.' He paused, then added, 'Follow me.'
Ascending to the top floor, they entered a storage room, where Dinh selected worn, shabby bedding and a rickety table, no better than what she already had in her room. Considering her circumstances, having a roof over her head was already a luxury; she dared not ask for more.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone