Chapter 22

Mai

A few days later, after the monsoon rains had poured their heart out, Sandy met Mai at the Stardust to go motorbike shopping. Mai had found a store in District 2 that was about three miles away; they rode a tuk-tuk to get there. Sitting in the back of the bicycle taxi, Mai had a visceral reaction to Sandy’s presence, an itch she couldn’t scratch. She was wearing jeans and a tank top, but her skin turned hot, then cold. She wanted to reach across and touch him. That she could feel an urge like that made her suddenly fearful. Did he feel the same way? She couldn’t tell. He was silent, his gaze on the Saigon traffic ahead.

“It’s still pretty wet,” he said after a long silence.

May turned her head toward him. “Is problem? Will bike slide on road?”

“I don’t think so.” He looked over.

When their eyes met, her stomach lurched. She fumbled for something to say. “I—I—when you get to Saigon?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“How long you stay?”

“My tour is for a year.” His eyes, through his glasses, loomed large and curious. As if he’d asked her a question and was patiently waiting for the answer.

A rush of emotions tugged at Mai. Irrepressible joy; a year was forever. A pang of desire; she wanted to be with him every day of that year. And deep anxiety; what if he didn’t want the same?

At the Saigon Scooter Center in District 2, Sandy changed from shy to a confident American with extensive knowledge about motorbikes. Happily, the salesman spoke better English than Mai did and answered his questions about horsepower, engine size, and cost. Unlike most of the stores in the city, crammed together in stalls or on the ground floors of homes, the shop was in a small but sturdy one-story building that had been built specifically for motorbikes and had a large lot behind it. Sandy went out to the lot, where most of the bikes were parked, and examined Vespas, Hondas, and Yamahas. He recommended a small bike for Mai, since she only planned to use it for basic transportation. She agreed. As they passed a huge motorcycle, however, Mai saw Sandy cast a wistful glance at it.

“That Harley?” she asked.

“Yup.” A slow grin spread across his face. “You want to go for a ride?”

She bit her lip. The machine in front of her reminded her of a fierce dragon just waiting to swallow them whole. “Too big.” Then she caught his disappointed expression. She changed her mind. “Sure. I go.”

Sandy told the salesman they’d like to test-drive the Harley. The man nodded, gave them helmets, and wheeled it to the edge of the lot. “Only ten minutes, okay?”

Sandy nodded and showed Mai where to sit. He swung his leg over and keyed the engine. A ferocious growl erupted. Mai swallowed, strapped on her helmet, and nervously climbed on behind him. “Put your arms around my waist and hold on tight,” he yelled.

His body was strong, slim, and yet smooth as a seashell. He smelled of American soap, cigarettes, and chewing gum. She forgot her fear. Sandy ran through the gears on the handlebars. Lenny had been right. The sound of the engine gearing up was vroom-vroom. They took off and flew through District 2, Sandy steering the bike around streets at what seemed like terrifying speeds. As they kept going, though, her hair flying, wind whipping her cheeks, Mai relaxed, and little by little her enjoyment grew. Never before had she felt a machine as powerful as this. The way it ate up the road as if the concrete was rice paper felt almost primitive. And liberating. They could go anywhere they wanted, she and Sandy, as long as she kept her arms around his waist and their bodies close together. Mai couldn’t recall a more exhilarating time. The only sobering moment came when they crossed over the Saigon River on a concrete bridge and passed the pier where the trawler carrying her and Tâm to Saigon had docked. The memory of that day caused Mai to avert her eyes.

They left the motorbike shop with a sky-blue Vespa for Mai. Small and delicate—like her, Sandy said. It was the most expensive possession she’d ever owned, but to Mai it was money well spent. She would pay for it from her salary and tips. Sandy promised to teach her how to take care of it. She would be free to come and go as she pleased. Most of all, she would be looked at as a young woman of means. A woman to be admired and respected. What other girl owned her own motorbike? Certainly not Hạnh. Or Chị Tâm.

Sandy kick-started the engine, but he made her drive them back to the boardinghouse in time for her shift. When she pecked him on the cheek to thank him, he touched her cheek and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was her first kiss. His lips were soft and tasted salty. When he withdrew, he smiled down at her. “Thanks, Mai. This was the best time I’ve had since I’ve been in-country.”

Mai smiled back. What a gentleman he was. “See you tomorrow?”

True to his word, Sandy spent time making her practice gear changes, acceleration, when and how to brake, and basic bike maintenance. After she got her license, Mai and Hạnh rode back and forth to the Stardust when Hạnh’s boyfriend, Chuck, wasn’t around. Heads turned when the two attractive young girls scootered by. Mai and Hạnh loved the attention.