Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
1980, Seadrift, Texas
Despite how small Seadrift was, and how even smaller the Vietnamese community was, the fishing production setup was a well-oiled machine. Locals called the port “Saigon Harbor,” a nickname from the growing list of insults and infractions launched against “the other.” The Vietnamese fishermen were known to stay out longer on the water than the locals did, reeling in more catches and selling them to locals for dirt cheap. They broke unspoken societal rules, setting their traps in waters that the local fishermen had claimed for themselves. Invisible lines, which had been drawn in the water for years, a pseudo DMZ, warned each side to stay away. But mounting tensions began blurring the lines between doing the right thing and doing what one had to do in order to survive.
Though Duc and Huey were fortunate to not have any more run-ins with the locals or clashes with the Ku Klux Klan, whose presence cast a darkness over the whole town, not many people were as lucky. Every night, everyone looked behind them to see if another shadow that was not their own was following them home.
But life kept going. And the men continued to go out into the waters in the early mornings and the women would stay back at the local crab factory and prepare and process thousands of blue crabs. They would sort, clean, steam, declaw, crack, and pick the meat to be packed into plastic containers. Some days, they’d gossip while separating out the roe; other days, they’d cry as claws would fly in every direction. They’d cry over missing their mothers, cry over missing Vietnam, and cry over wondering when this life would stop being so hard. But on the rare occasions, on the days they’d be graced with levity, the women would feel content in having repetitive tasks because that symbolized stability.
One woman in particular had caught the eye of all the men, including Duc and Huey. She walked with a nervous gait, but her eyes had a siren call to them, luring men’s gazes toward her. Her eyes were sharp brown, distinct, but comforting and wide.
Her name was ?iep, but she went by her American name, Evelyn. Evelyn Lê.
Evelyn rarely smiled, or joined in on the gossip, nor had anyone ever seen her shed a tear. She was quiet, reserved, and diligent in her duties. She clocked in early, and left late, scurrying back to her home and to her husband. Her beauty was somehow gentle and loud at the same time. But she was married, a small ring looped around her wedding finger, thwarting any possible advances toward her. Duc and Huey would stare from afar, envious of her husband, Tu?n.
How fortunate Tu?n was, to have such a good and beautiful woman by his side.
But they also knew Tu?n to be a good man. The only fisherman who had taken in Duc and Huey, two strays from out of town, and allowed them on his boat. A man deserving of a beautiful wife and a beautiful home. He was boisterous but generous. Perhaps too generous, generous with his money, time, and empathy. They saw how Tu?n gave away what little money he had to others who needed it, and how he always took home less than his share of the catch, just so that others could eat more. Tu?n was respected, so they showed their deference back, and only dreamt of Evelyn at night, barely even acknowledging her or looking her in the eye at the factory.
“What if we just lived here permanently?” Duc had said randomly to Huey, one early morning out on Tu?n’s fishing boat. “Maybe this is just the life we choose, for the rest of our lives? What if we stop running?”
Huey released a grunt—it was neither confirmation nor disagreement.
Duc tried again. “We could open up a restaurant together one day? A crab shack? Americans love crab. I’ve seen the way they eat it.”
Again, Duc was met with another grunt.
“How about if we open up a—”
Huey interrupted with a grunt. This time it was bigger. More final.
“Okay, how about a bánh mì shop? Americans love sandwiches—”
With an exasperated half yell, Huey turned back around and growled at Duc. “You want to stay here forever and wait for death to come and collect us? We’re practically living in another war zone here, anh. Look around, everyone’s scared shitless around here.”
“Well, we technically didn’t lose our war,” Duc began to tease, but was instantly silenced by the look Huey threw at him. The boat roared to life, heading back to shore. Tu?n was behind the wheel, as usual, a cigarette drooping from his lips, the wind whipping through his unruly hair, making it look as if it had been purposely slicked back.
“You two sisters fighting again?” Tu?n yelled out over the noise, a large grin plastered on his face.
“Convince the coward to stay here,” Duc yelled back, jerking his head in Huey’s direction. Tu?n said nothing, just cranked the old trawler into full gear and sped faster toward shore, a miracle of a feat since his old trawler was seemingly held together with elementary school glue and gum, yet it somehow managed to keep up with his request. Ocean droplets ran sideways against the three men’s faces as they went back to shore.
As the horizon bloomed larger into view, Tu?n spoke up. “You both need a real reason to want to stay in this shithole,” he said breezily, wiping off water from his brow. “You know what made me want to stay?” Nearing the harbor, the trawler came to a slow crawl, passing other shrimping trawlers along the way. Other Vietnamese fishermen nodded their heads in acknowledgment, while the non-Vietnamese turned a cold shoulder. Some even spat into the water as they passed. Duc, Huey, and Tu?n avoided eye contact as best they could, even with the slurs flying through the air.
As Tu?n pulled the trawler up to his dock, he took his dying cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it next to the glass jar filled a quarter of the way with old butts, and his smile took over his whole face.
“You want to know what made me want to stay here?” he repeated softly, no longer caring to lecture Duc and Huey.
The three men looked up to see Evelyn staring down at them from high up on the dock, her hair neatly pulled back into a low, soft bun, her face awash with sunlight, her blue linen dress matching the ocean. This time, though, her demeanor was different from what Duc and Huey saw day in and day out at the crab factory.
Evelyn was smiling, and her smile was locked and aimed at only one person.
“See, boys?” Tu?n said, still not looking at anyone else but Evelyn. “You have to have a reason to stay. Find your reason.”
Duc and Huey watched as Tu?n docked his trawler, and before he hauled in the day’s catch, he hopped over the railing onto the wooden deck and hugged his wife. Though neither man said it out loud, they knew that if they had a woman like Evelyn waiting for them at the end of the dock, they wouldn’t ever want to leave—even if they were in the middle of a war zone.
The men laughed and carried about their day, pretending that all was right with the world. Because what else could they have done? They carried on, unprepared for the invisible demarcation line they were all living behind, which was about to topple over into chaos.