Tho and Lien rested out of sight in the stench of their own clothing.
“I’m too old for this.”
Lien glanced at the old man half-panting in the weeds on the side of the hill. “Where do you think Minh is?”
“Leave your thoughts alone. Worrying doesn’t change a ripple in the water.”
“Yes, but worrying makes me feel better.”
“Really?”
She chastised him with a harsh sigh. “No. Tho, you’ve always been so grounded and focused.”
“It’s easy to be focused when one has no family of his own. I’m sure if I had a son, I wouldn’t be spouting benign mantras about ripples in the water.”
“What do you think of this? The royal line? You’re the last one.”
“Hmmm,” he hummed a sigh of his own.
Lien smiled and reached over to grab his hand. “You’ve always been like a grandfather to me.”
“I’ve been a grandfather to everyone I’ve met for the past fifty years. I can hardly remember a time I wasn’t a grandfather. Minh will be fine. You’ve raised a smart boy.”
“I didn’t raise him alone.”
“I hope you’re not blaming me for any of his behavior.”
A vehicle stopped just out of sight a short distance away. The woman from the garbage truck trudged over the top of the hill and called out for them. “I’m surprised I don’t smell you. Where are you?”
“Over here,” shouted Lien.
The woman ransacked through a cloth bag as she approached. “Here, I brought you both some clothes. Grandpa, I hope a pair of pajamas will work for you. I took them from my father.”
“You’re a good soul. I rarely leave the house without loose-fitting, thin cotton pajamas. I shall feel at home.”
“And I brought you some of my clothes,” she said, handing Lien a shirt and pants set.
“Thank you so much.”
“Now, change quickly. Two motorbikes will be arriving shortly. They’ll take you the back way to the temple. I figured you didn’t want to go through any checkpoints in Viet Tri City.”
“That’s perfect, thank you.”
“And what are you going to do when you get to the temple?” Lien and Tho looked at each other. “Well, I see even you don’t know what’s about to happen next. Good luck on your journey. May the spirits show their favor.”
“Thank you, but … I don’t mean to be rude. However, could both of you turn around so an old man can change in peace?”
“Gladly,” said Lien. “And don’t look back my way.”
“Don’t worry, Lien. I wouldn’t know what to do anyway if I stared at a beautiful girl. Actually, I might just die.”
“Then don’t look! I need you alive.”
After twenty minutes of enjoying clean clothing, two young teens arrived on motorbikes and drove them through a maze of small roads and paths until they emerged below one of the temples of the Hung King complex. A small set of steps with a metal railing hung onto the side of the hill.
“Grandpa, take this path up the hill and then you’ll see the main temple.”
“Steps,” Tho commented, pondering the incline with a doubtful glance. “Lien, you wonder why I rarely went to your apartment? Those steps of yours. My knees can’t take it.”
“I’ll help you.” She turned to the boys. “We owe you a debt.”
They both nodded and scooted out of sight, leaving the pair the daunting task of step-climbing. They plodded up one at a time. Lien felt the complaint of every one of Tho’s breaths on the back of her neck, until the final step led them into the courtyard of the main Hung King temple, nestled in the trees on top of a small mountain. The walkways were desolate, but they could smell the wafting of incense drifting out of the darkened hall.
“Tho, I don’t mean to be skeptical, but what are we doing here?”
He chuckled as he continued to catch his breath, hunched over with his palms on his knees. “Searching and waiting. And hoping. Let’s not forget hoping.”
“Hoping?”
“Hoping that our ride in the garbage truck was not in vain.”
“Shall we go in?”
“Yes, we must pay our respects.”
Lien helped Tho up the few steps leading into the hall when she came to an abrupt halt. “Look.” An intricate chalk drawing of an ancient Vietnamese bronze drum had been etched into the outside wall of the temple with the caption underneath: Long live Vietnam!
“Do you think it’s true what’s been rumored about the Hung Temple Museum, that the Chinese confiscated all the ancient bronze drums?”
Tho reached over and touched the chalk drawing. He rubbed the chalk residue between his fingertips. “That’s what I would have done if I were the conquering Chinese. Try to eliminate anything that reminds our people of its true independence.” He inspected the chalk. “This has been drawn recently. The images of the boats and birds on the drum are quite accurate.”
“What do you think it means?”
“I hope it means we’re at the right place.”
They stepped over the raised wooden door frame directly toward the main altar in line with the entrance. Large figures of bearded men overshadowed the table holding a plethora of incense holders, bowls of fresh fruit, and small figurines of Vietnamese lore. They both bowed in reverence, lit a joss stick, and placed it in one of the holders. As Lien mumbled a special prayer over the safety of her son, Tho removed the three marble tablets from his pajama top pocket and placed them flat on the altar. He shifted them around in order but left an empty slot for the missing one.
“Tho, I’ve never seen you without all four tablets.”
Tho paused for moment. “Well, four is terribly bad luck. Perhaps that’s why I never found a wife.”
Lien smiled. “What are you going to do?”
“Seek guidance.”
He placed the three middle fingers of his right hand in the empty slot of the missing tablet and closed his eyes. He whispered a phrase even Lien couldn’t understand. She watched his intense expression until his mouth opened wide and he spoke a short supplication: “The great Hung Kings from the bronze era—our roots that prove our cause is just—may the spirit of our ancestors live once more in our time of need. Lady Trieu has been awakened, may we all do the same. May all of our spirits rise to the occasion.”
He ran his hands over the three marble tablets before picking them up and placing them back in his pocket. He stared at a figurine behind the table. “I haven’t been here in many years.”
“What’s that noise?” Lien looked back into the bright sunlight. A steady croaking sound in a precise cadence grew louder and louder. “What does that sound like to you?”
“Toads.”
“Toads? On the mountain?”
“Come, quickly. Outside.” Tho grabbed Lien’s hand, and they moved out of the darkened sanctuary into the bright light. The sound of the toads became deafening like being surrounded by thousands of locusts spread out in the tree tops.
“Look!” Lien pointed at a miniature long-tailed bird, standing under the chalk drawing of the bronze drum.
“I can’t believe it,” he said.
“What?”
“That’s the long-tailed bird, from the drum. Look at it.”
“Chim lac. Lost bird.”
“Indeed, the lost bird,” confirmed Tho.
A spitting image of the mysterious bird had walked out of the chalk drawing. Lien reached down and scooped the bird into her hands. It had a long, pointed beak and a long, striking tail with full-feathered wings on both sides. Its front and rear seemed to teeter-totter back and forth on its mid-section. It sat comfortably in her hands without making a sound as the croaking of the toads surrounded them.
“Everything is waking up.” Tho smiled in amazement into the air. A patch of blue sky could be seen through the tree canopy. “We thought the lost bird was indeed lost to history. But here it is. Stepping out of the bronze drum.”
“What do you think it wants?” asked Lien. “This is a monumental discovery.”
“Yes,” said Tho. “Every ornithologist in the world will want to examine this beauty.” Tho tapped the bird’s beak lightly. “What’s that?” An object hovered overhead the courtyard. It was metallic and ten feet wide. “Is that a drone?”
A projectile shot from the hovering object and hit the back side of the temple. A massive explosion knocked Lien and Tho off the front steps and onto the ground.
“Missile. We’re under attack!”
The drone hovered above them, slowly descending. The long-tailed bird had jumped away a few feet and looked up into the sky. The bird grew larger. Lien and Tho witnessed the transformation in front of them. It expanded out ten-fold, then twenty, and its long tail grew outward and shot back right between them. Its beak protruded like a massive needle. They instinctively knew what to do. They grabbed onto the plumage, and the bird let out a giant call like a mighty eagle ready for battle. It lifted into the sky with Tho and Lien holding on with all the strength their grip could muster. The massive bird careened toward the drone and clamped onto its propellers with its mighty jaw. Its beak sliced down like a pair of scissors, splitting the drone in half and sending splinters to the ground in a fiery crash. The bird continued its ascent with two flabbergasted hitchhikers watching the flames below. It released another mighty call into the sky, and the toads echoed in reply.
The two travelers glanced earthward. The temple for the ancient kings had a gaping hole at its rear, and the burning embers from the drone engulfed the entry way. Tho thought it was fitting, though. The struggle for independence reached back to its genesis, and the Hung Kings and the mighty roar of the toads and the lost long-tailed bird of lore all played their parts, coaxed on, no doubt, by a mighty female warrior awakened from the deep of the sacred lake. If the Vietnamese experience indeed stood at the brink of extinction, it would not end quietly without every spirit of the living past bursting forth to counter the strange and terrible whims which had awakened Sun Quan. The tongue-tied journeyers realized they didn’t need to hold on anymore. The mighty feathers on the long-tail of the majestic bird had formed a ridge on both sides—like a carriage holding them in place. They gawked at each other like youngsters in an amusement park, equally in awe about riding the turtle in the lake and riding the great bird on the edges of the clouds. The vibrant green fields spread out in all directions, signaling a country still growing and a people still working to fulfill history’s promise. They swooped over the edges of the Red River, snaking along toward the city in the middle of the river, the beautiful city of Thang Long, the modern city of Hanoi, the thousand-year-old citadel, which had warded off floods, natural disasters, foreign invaders, and modern bombers—now standing at the foot of a crossroads, which would determine its future. The bird turned north from the city and within minutes descended with ease and landed in an ancient temple complex. The bird lowered its tail, allowing Tho and Lien to slide gently off onto the ground.
Lien helped Tho to his feet, and they both remained silent as the bird turned around and glared at them as if it wanted to say something. Then it sat on the ground as if protecting an egg ready to hatch.
“Tho, we’re at a citadel. This is … this is Co Loa.”
“Yes. The Au Lac Kingdom. The first established Vietnamese kingdom.”
“Why are we here?”
A sharp voice from behind startled them.
“I wanted us to meet.”
They turned to the presence of the lady warrior standing over them.
“Lady Trieu.”
“A drone attacked the Hung Temple and—”
“Yes.”
“And the long-tailed bird—”
“Yes, Mr. Tho. You have brought her to life.”
“Me?”
“You’ll be safe here for the time being.”
“Do you know if Minh is all right?”
“I’m afraid he will have a difficult time convincing the rebellion about the true nature of our fight.”
“What do you mean?”
“It takes belief to truly understand that which is right in front of us. The rational mind doubts anything it can’t explain away. It wants to deny it until the proof is unmistakable.”
“But Minh is all right?”
“Don’t worry about your son. He has a role to play, and you’ve taught him well.”
“But—”
Tho reached over to stop Lien from saying any more. “Lien, release him to his task and allow fate to bring us all back together when this terrible war is finished.” She nodded and gripped Tho’s hand tightly. “Lady Trieu, what is it you want us to do?”
“Protect the tablets until you hear word.”
They nodded. The female warrior walked past them toward the bird. She stroked its head and climbed onto its back. “Stay out of sight.” The bird flexed its wings and stood to its feet. The majestic span of feathers fanned out as it leaped into the sky, roaring as Lady Trieu clung to its back.
“She wants us to stay out of sight, yet she rides a giant ancient bird into the sky?”
Lien playfully slapped Tho as the long-tailed bird disappeared like a speck into the blue. But their gaze didn’t shift, even after they could no longer see the winged beast. They stood between the dark and gloom of Hanoi and the piercing brightness of an unknown world, which had opened its doors to untold possibilities—all of which seemed too preposterous to believe.
“Tho. I’m at a loss for words. How can we believe what we’ve seen?”
Tho nodded in agreement. “Yes, indeed. Her breasts are supposed to be much larger.”
Lien twirled around in half-cocked shock. “Tho? What?”
“In all the ancient stories of Lady Trieu, she always had massively big breasts.”
Lien burst out laughing and slapped the old man on his arm. “Probably because men told the story.”
“No, no. That’s not it. Next time I’ll ask her.”
“You will not ask her about her breasts.”
“Lien, you are not my mother.”
“You’re lucky I’m not.”
The Chinese man and Sun Quan entered into the once-again walled-off cell of the newly old man named Cuong.
“Your friends left you here,” said the Chinese man.
“I told them to leave me.”
“They were eager to save themselves.”
“What do you want?” he asked with an uncaring attitude.
Sun Quan turned his back to Cuong but didn’t say anything at first.
Finally, he asked, “Would you like to be young again?” Cuong looked up quickly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have young legs once more? Ones that worked?”
“What do you want?”
“I want the location of the rebel headquarters. That’s all.”
“I’ll never tell you.”
Sun Quan turned back toward Cuong. He hovered over him and smashed Cuong’s leg with his foot. Cuong buckled over in pain, but as he opened his eyes, his limp leg grew firm and strong. Cuong reached down and felt the muscles restoring themselves to complete mobility. It felt like he could jump to his feet and run. He glanced up at the two.
“I’m … I’m …”
“You’re turning younger if you want it. A small taste of the good days. Tell us. We’ll restore you and let you go.”
“I—”
His mind wandered. The only headquarters he knew might have been abandoned by now. They changed often, he thought. I would be of greater help to the resistance if I were younger. Just a word and I could be free, if I can trust them. Of course I can’t trust them. But my leg is better, and I’m feeling … His thoughts betrayed every one of his instincts. He would tell. It made sense to tell. It felt good to tell. He desired to inform them of everything they wanted to know just to be complete—just to feel himself alive again.
“I—”
The smooth black wall behind them opened and a uniformed soldier ran in.
“Sir, a giant bird has been spotted in the sky.”
“A bird?”
“It destroyed the drone in Viet Tri.”
Cuong burst out. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you where the headquarters is.”
The Chinese man kicked him in the leg. “You fool. It’s too late for that.”
“What do you mean? I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything, just let me be young again.”
“The rebel base means nothing now that the bird is here.”
“The bird? What bird? I don’t know anything about a bird. I’ll tell you everything. Everything!”
The Chinese man turned without a sound and exited beyond the walls. Sun Quan stayed for a moment and leaned over Cuong. “You’re weak. All of you. You’ll die here an old man, because no one would come for a weak old fool like yourself.”
Sun Quan left, and as Cuong reached down to rub his leg, his body once again atrophied. He lay prostrate on the floor and cried alone in the reflective, black-walled cell.