Page 76 of The Seekers of Deer Creek

“Why does anyone harbor a secret? Shame. Protection. He blamed himself for this.”Ki`êugestured down at his legs. “I’ll tell you what I remember.”

Before her father’s accident at the lumber mill, there had been another. WhenTu?nwas sixteen andKi`êuwas eleven, they decided to run back to the abandoned family home by the ravine. The Old House, they called it. It was largely uninhabitable, but they liked to explore the property for odds and ends. A decade before, a foreigner had come to live there, and the boys were still digging up things she left behind after her death. They liked to pore over her cache of belongings, making up stories about herlife. It was their secret kingdom where beatings were verboten, where laughter was plentiful and unabashed.

That day was clear and fine, with a springtime breeze that coaxed them from the Old House to the yard beyond.Tu?ncalled for a game of hide-and-seek.Ki`êuremembered thatTu?nhad been in a mood that afternoon. Their father had antagonized him andTu?nwas tense with resentment, so when he took off to hide, it was with a thundercloud over his head.

Ki`êulooked everywhere for his brother—in the trees, behind boulders, within the wreckage of the house. Evening had almost fallen andKi`êu, still timid and a little afraid, called out forTu?nagain and again. Said he was giving up. He wanted to go home. But hours passed andTu?nnever came.

Eventually, the moon rose and the night creatures began to stir. The fine day turned into an ominous night.Ki`êusobbed, frightened in earnest now, not caring if his brother jeered at him. They were alone and their parents would not know where to find them. No one would.

Then came a laugh,Tu?n’s laugh.Tr?n tìm, em.Ki`êuran toward the sound of his brother’s voice, which had begun to grow fainter. The woods were dark.Ki`êutripped on his own feet. He could hear the rushing of the river as he approached the spot where the soil began to curve steeply down into the ravine. His brother’s voice was so clear, so close, thorned with impatience now.

Tr?n tìm!

In his haste to avoidTu?n’s irritation,Ki`êuraced ahead. His foot slipped on a patch of weeds. He went barreling down the ravine. Seconds later, he landed almost twenty feet below, his spine hitting the sharp jut of rock in exactly the spot that would sever the use of his legs for the rest of his life. The last thingKi`êusaw was a spiraling shadow high above him. He imagined it to be a great, winged creature come to escort him home.

“Over sixty years and I’ll never forget my brother’s face when I wokein the hospital. It was so pale, lifeless. You’d think he was the one who’d fallen. He refused to leave my bedside. It took years before he would return to the Old House, and even then, he would not linger. We’d both had our lives ripped away that day.”

“You were just a child.”

“So was he.”

“You’re not angry at him?”

“I was. Of course. But he’s spent a lifetime repenting for it. There was never such a devoted brother. He helped me build a new life and, when I married Linh, he gave me money for our house. And after all, it was an accident, what happened at the ravine. How can I explain forgiveness between siblings? You have a sister. You know. The separation between selves isn’t so firm. The grudges crumble under the weight of the love.”

“But he left you again, for America.”

“How could he not? He was able-bodied. He would have had to fight, and possibly die, in the war. And he needed to go. After what happened, the situation with our father had become untenable forTu?n. They’d always had an uneasy relationship. They were both balls of fire, full of temper. My paralysis worsened everything. Ba blamed AnhTu?nfor what he saw as my lost potential. It didn’t matter how unjust it was. Ba came to hate AnhTu?nand, eventually, my brother came to hate himself.”

“You didn’t want to come to America?”

“I’d met Linh and I didn’t want to leave, even if I could have, soTu?ncame home to me when he could. He always said he wanted to move back toVi?tNam for good. The American dream failed him, it seems.”

“It usually does.”

“But he had you girls and your mother. He stayed in Wisconsin for you.”

“He did his best?” Bitterness, that familiar old seasoning, clung to her words.

Ki`êureached over to take her hand. “And I can also understand thatit wasn’t enough. I’m not here to apologize for my brother. Only to tell you the truth of him as I know it. We are all demons and angels both. It is the project of our lives to hold these contradictions.”

There was a faraway rumble of thunder, a hint of the rainy season that still hung over southVi?tNam.Ki`êustudied the clouds. They were kissed with a soft gray, the luminescent highlight of an elephant’s ear. Every so often, there was a distant flicker in the sky. Vivi had the impression of a bare bulb swinging against clapboard, its diffuse light growing and retracting in the push and pull of the wind.

She said, “My sister and I discovered something about our family. It’s a bit of a mystery.”

“Intriguing.”

“I wonder if you could help me trace the genealogy.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Your father was Huy,” she began. He nodded. “Which means your grandmother wasNg?c.”

“Yes. She’d adopted Huy, the way I eventually adoptedKhánh.”

“And Huy’s biological mother: Was sheNg?c’s sister,Tâm?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “You know?”