that last day. And something strange happened. We had to walk close to each other, as the brush was very thick and the machetes slow to cut it clear. Hien held on to my tether and pretended to push me around while actually inspecting the damage he had done to my face and trying to slow the pace so that I could keep up. It was a great effort for him, because he was, as I say, very low. But I noticed that my aural though very weak and faded to the dirty pink of a tenement babys sixth-hand Goodwill Easter dress, gradually engulfed his. It was like what I had seen happen with the colonel and his men, and it confused me.
I did not know what to do, or what to say, about the way he, the village, and the colonel were reacting to me. It was like when the wrong guy falls in love with you for the wrong reasons that have nothing to do with you. These people were assuming that I did the things I did because I was who I was, that I was making the amulet do what it did, instead of simply discovering what it would do as I went along. Even when I totally lost all my ability to use it, back at Hue's village, and the vi'itagers and Hien had to help me, they thought I was sharing my power, not borrowing theirs.
And yet I couldn't just take the amulet off. The big reason, of course, was that without it I was just another American invader worthy of no special attention except the kind I could do without. But also, in some strange way, I had become what I can only describe as addicted to the amulet, dependent on it. I drained myself through it into patients, but as long as it was with me, I felt as if I had a way of renewing myself.
I realized why old Xe had waited until he was dying to give it up. It was as invested with my life as I was with its power. And of course, so long as I had it, I might be subjected to some unrealistic worship but I was not tortured or summarily executed as I would have been without it.
I think that if I had had Xe's years of experience and wisdom, I could have done much more with the power while I had it. I wish I had at least been able to do more for Hien.
When the ambush came, he was the one who knocked me down and threw himself on top of me, taking my share of the bullets and frags. Dying, his body twitched on top of me, and I hesitate to say it, but it was as if he were making love to me. And I guess he was, at that.
'Tesus tucking Christ, you ain't even going to believe what I found.'
A rifle barrel prodded me, plowed a path through the matted tangles of my hair, rolled my dead guard off me. A man with a blackened face, too much stringy dishwater-blond hair for regulations, and a gap-toothed grin reached down to wipe the grime and blood off my arm as if I were a pile of animal shit he was examining for tracking purposes.
'Yeah?' another voice challenged. 'Whass that? Don't tell me that slant had on an earring you can use for the centerpiece in your necklace.'
'Better. Lookit.'
'Sheeit. Hey, lady. Lady, where the fuck you come from?' This from a pockmarked swarthy-type kid with some kind of a New York accent mixed with the redneck patois most of the grunts used. The auras of both men were flashing, red, brown, black, olive, mustard, orange, a confusion of high emotion that blurred together for me. I sat up, feeling as if I'd been in an elevator that had suddenly dropped two floors. We had been wending through the jungle as we had for the last four days when all of a sudden all hell broke loose and there I was, on the ground, with my guard bleeding on top of me and automatic bursts and hand grenades exploding around me and my bound hands pinned down by the body on top of me. A deep groan issued from someone nearby.
'We got a live one here.'
'Well, pull him out. Where the fuck is Bao?' This was from other disembodied voices. I was still trying to focus on the two faces in front of me.
'Jesus, lookit her hands. Lookit her arm. Baby, did they hurt you bad?
Hey, Didi, you save that little bastard. They had themselves an American woman, the little fuckers.'
'A whut. Maryjane, what the fuck you smokin' now-'
'No, man, I found her. Let her alone. Can you get up, baby?
Show papa where it hurts,' and he tried to scoop me up and I wanted to collapse in his arms and sob but he was flashing so heavy with all that red and orange and black it seemed he was on fire. I looked around me.
Dinh was half-sitting, his arms being wrenched behind him. One leg was covered with blood, the calf lying at a funny angle from the thigh.
Maryjane, the dishwater-blond, saw the direction of my stare. 'That the fucker who did you, baby? I'll fix his ass.' He rose and strode over to Dinh.
'No, you don't, man. We gotta squeeze him first. He's some highrankin'
motherfucker,' said the man who was tying him, the one called Didi.
'Yeah? Okay. I won't kill him, then,' and he rared back and kicked Dinh's injured knee. The colonel let out a sound like brakes being applied at high speed and fainted. The smell of fresh urine added itself to the stench of death and evacuated bowels from the corpses of my former captors.
'Cut it out,' I said, I thought loudly, but it came out a bare whisper.
'Hey, you asshole. You're upsettin' the lady. She been through enough.' The guy with the New York accent helped me to my feet, but I didn't stay up very long. I took one look around me and doubled up again, losing the little rice I had kept down that day and retching long after the last of the bile had poured from me.
After a while I was able to tell them who I was. Someone got on a radio, back to base, and told them about me, about Dinh. There was a long pause, then: 'Hold it right there, son. This is General Hennessey, on inspection tour. You say this is an American nurse you found? And she was in the company of these Vietcong guerrillas?'
'That's affirmative, sir.'
'Give me your coordinates again.'
He did, and the general set up a rendezvous. I thought at the time, I didn't think generals probably remembered how to do that anymore. I guessed I should feel honored. Maybe he'd want me to attend at party at his mess. I was dressed right for a mess then. My fatigues were in tatters, and I was covered with bites and scratches and that one long bayonet wound.
Someone picked up Dinh like a sack of potatoes and carried him, shattered leg dangling. I don't think they had a medic. Maybe he'd gotten killed. Maryjane and Zits, the guy from New York, supported me.
I don't know how long it took, how far it was. I wasn't entirely with it. I kept getting confused, thinking we were still back at the village with the point man walking into the minefield, and that was Dinh. When I looked down at my own hand I couldn't see any color at all around it.
I heard myself giggle. Maryjane grinned at me and wiggled his eyebrows encouragingly. 'I'm outa juice,' I explained. It made perfect sense to me, but he drew a spiral by his ear with his finger and Zits nodded.
That was pretty funny and I giggled again.
They tied Dinh to a tree. He couldn't stand, even on his one good leg.
He was out of it. They tried to question him, but he didn't say anything. I thought he was conscious most of the time, but no matter what they asked, how they hit him, what they threatened, he didn't say anything, except to groan and scream a lot.
Some of the questions were about me. The sergeant who was running the show would ask in broken Vietnamese, then the interpreter would ask, then they'd hit Dinh and he'd scream again.
'Not a fuckin' thing. What we gonna tell the general?'
Maybe he don't know nothin'.'
'He knows what they did to her. Where she's from.'
'Hell, man, she knows that.'
'Yeah, but she's dinky dao as shit.'
'Fuck it, man, he ain't gonna tell you anything. I'm tired of this shit. Let's play a little 'guts,' Sarge, whattaya say? That's first-class round-eye tail he was fuckin' with, man. We don't even get none of that. He's got some payback comin'.'
'Damn straight.'
'Nah, man, the general's gonna want to question this dde.'
'You ain't been listenin', asshole. He ain't talkin'. We'll just loosen him up a little.'
'Lookit him. You'll kill him before the general gets here, man. He's gonna be soooo disappointed.'
'Ain't that a fuckin' shame. So we'll save him a piece. A tiny little piece.'
I looked inquiringly at Zits. I was still having trouble talking. It had beenonly a few days, but it felt like forever since I'd heard English spoken by other Americans. It seemed to be going too fast for me. I still didn't get what they were up to. I wasn't tracking very clearly.
'You'll see, baby. Maybe you wanna play too.'
Oh goody. Vietnam was so wonderful. In school nobody had ever wanted me on their team, and here the boys were, choosing me first.
'Me first, man, I found her,' Maryjane said. He cut off Dinh's clothes.
'Hey, man, leave him a jock. There's ladies present.'
