LatinosUSA

A short story in Vietnamese by Trần Băng Khuê
Translator: Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

1.

Dirt standing their facing the court, dirt holding their head high with not a single tear in their eyes. The court asked: “dirt, what do you eat to survive?”, “dirt eat dirt”, dirt reply.

The court asked again: “dirt, what do you drink to survive?”, dirt reply: “dirt drink the blood of the people”.

The court not saying a word, minutes passes by, turn to look at each other, the Judge slams the gavel on the table, “chat”, then slowly announce: “the court will deliberate”.

2.

Dirt as sad as the colour of the sky this morning. Awake to the soft sound of falling rain. Dirt to the devil tree nearby, quietly confides: “I had a dream last night”. Each gust of the wind causes the devil branches to quiver, and its flowers fall like white rain. A few motor bikes pass by, in a rush. “People are always like that right?”, dirt uttered without the desire for a reply. Nor did the devil flowers reply. The soft alluring scent spreading, permeates the air. The grey clouds remain silent, disconnected, drifts away with the sound of the early morning prayers from a church nearby. Sunday.

3.

Since last week, since last Sunday. The court’s deliberation taking longer than expected. Dirt did not have a chance to clearly explain what happened. How dirt was wronged. People, live on dirt, randomly digging it up, get to smell and enjoy the sweet fruit and flower from dirt. And yet. People rarely know how to show their appreciation. Worst, they fight amongst themselves, erect boundaries and fences to stop the access of an entire world.

Dirt, feeling sorry for itself, going on and on about its connection with the house of Trần, they have four princesses. If only their father knew how to make Dirt stay beside him for sixty-five years of his life. If only the homes popping up atop of Dirt did not follow and did not belong to strangers. If only Dirt had said something to remind him of the consequences of being careless with his money. Núi lỡ thì đá mòn – The rocks will corrode if the mountain is careless. Let alone Dirt as valuable as gold or silver.

4.

Friday, (not Friday the thirteenth), this week, a storm swept across the memory of a young woman from the house of Trần past ten O’clock. Trees falling everywhere. The wind shrieked. Each raindrops heavier and heavier, summed up the thoughts in the mind of the young woman who is connected with the universe, in tuned enough to detect the changing season, the change in the weather from the changes of the clouds in the sky. She sees the dirt throbbing and in pain. The rising water covered the earth. The devil tree branches hanging like limbs as though they have been severed from the body. She opens her mouth as though she is about to ask Dirt something, but in the wind is a barely audible whisper. Dirt asked, are the devil flowers bleeding? The thunder strike stuns Dirt into silence. White sap oozes out of the trunk of the devil’s tree. Dirt sigh. Like a prayer from the church last Sunday.

5.

“The rain will definitely ease”, Dirt mumbling weakly under its breath, sick of the rain and the extended period of the wet season, tricklingly endlessly as though its teasing Dirt as Dirt wait for the sun to shine. Memories of the Trần’s family trips long ago shows up one after the other in Dirt’s mind. But, the Devil tree whisper pulls dirt back to the present. “If only we didn’t have to wake up from a dream right?”, the Devil tree in a lot of pain as it watches its branches break way without a chance to grow back.

Dirt completely forgot about the court in last week’s dream, still deliberating without a verdict.

6.

The narrow alley, the incline. Has three Devil flowers tree lined up in a row. White across the sky. Scattered along with the heavy grey clouds were greenness of leaves, life, red of dirt, new birth. If only it was possible to ask, “What does dirt eat, drink?”. Human curiosity. And “does it dream?”. The wind had stopped. The rain had eased. But the sky remained the same consistent dark grey. White fallen Devil flowers mixed with the red colour of dirt. White – red touching each other. A familiar portrait painted as planned, preordained by the creator.

7.

Ma, said without much thought, “last night I think I had a dream. Has the Devil flowers bloomed yet?”. “The whole alley is covered in them ma”. The other person replied. Ma never leaves the house; she is either pottering around in the kitchen or the garden. Ma continues with her questions, “was dirt washed away? before mumbling to herself, “I remember sometime after some bad storms, in this hilly alley, the water washed away so much dirt, that it bled red earth”.

8.

The end of Friday (not Friday the thirteen).

Sunday morning. Prayers rising beyond the rooftop of the church. Ma reminding us, after mass, to visit the church’s garden to pray for the death.

9.

Dirt lying there falling asleep under a dark grey sky. Dirt falling back into the first dream. Dirt sees itself standing facing the hooves of a horse. The jurors are dressed in very strange clothes. The judge taps the gavel on the table (or block of wood) “chat” and said: “The court is ready to deliberate”. Dirt faces the jury, then the judge waiting. Sudden thunder strike, a hungry murder of crow came flying into court. They surround the jury and they start to peck. The whole court falls into chaos as they watch both blood and brain spurts out staining the table with brain matter. Dirt is freed.

10.

A Devil flower branch broke away from the tree, suddenly falls down, gently touch dirt like the dew. Startles Dirt wakes Dirt up. Dirt see that it is a very green and very young branch that had just landed. The Devil flower tree shyly and quietly asks, “Dirt, what do you eat, drink? Dirt almost answers but at court in the dream. But, after that had a change of heart. “I eat fresh flowers and green grass, and drink the sunlight”. The Devil flower raised an eyebrow adds, “then clearly I eat dirt and also drink the sunshine to survive?”

Autumn twenty twenty, the storm of a pandemic, of the cruel dreams that had cut across the trunk of the devil tree and throw at dirt the dead bodies.

As it turned out, dirt also eats the corpses of all living things.