The story of my life

(This section is the last part of the story)
I was dizzy. I was weak. I couldn’t feel the lower half of my body. I woke up in a totally different room surrounded by strangers in blue and white gowns. They all smiled as if to express their pleasure to see me. The fluorescent lights, the sounds of foot steps, the murmuring conversations, and the faces half masked reminded me of the aliens being captured at Roswell’s Area 51 something I saw on TV. Am I captured by the aliens or am I an alien myself? Who are these strange people? I was definitely in another world. Only minutes later did I feel the pain between my legs.
-“You did very well, Samnang,” said one stranger with a smile. I wanted to respond to the familiar sound but had no energy. Slowly, I dozed off...
Suddenly, the sound of a baby’s cry echoed through the room. I woke up again with excitement, with the hope to see and to hold that baby. “Baby? I just had a baby? Did I have a baby? Where is my baby?” Veasna! Veasna! Why did you take my baby away?
- “Yes, Samnang, you just had a baby girl. She’s in another room.” said that familiar voice again
- “The baby is doing fine, honey,” said another voice.
My tears rolled down incessantly over my cheeks. I cried and cried. Was it joy? Was it pain? Maybe both. Then I dozed off again...
-“I am his girlfriend. Me-Knang, stop that shit! She’s nothing but one sick bitch. You whore! We don’t want a drop of your peasant in our family. A-nang, are you okay? Cambodian students don’t respect each other during meetings---they don’t respect each other... period.” One voice after another, echoed in my head. These echoes kept haunting me.
-“I’ve had enough of this, I am going to Cambodia soon.” Greg’s face taunted me.
“Yeah, you go. You go and get the hell out of my face. You son of a bitch. Get out of my life. Get out! Get out! I cried out loud. Then I cried some more just like a child.
-“Samnang, are you okay? asked a voice.
-“Samnang, “he” is not here. I am right here. It’s me. Jane. I sobbed loudly. My dreams echoed the room. Everyone must have heard my dream. They must have known how much pain I had been through. Do they know? I was given some drugs and I had Caesarian.


The baby was born a few weeks early. She weighed 5 pounds and 3 ounces. I can’t thank Buddha enough for giving me a healthy child. I called her Veasna. For some reason, this name always stuck in my head. This name even echoes in my unconsciousness. Veasna was my neighbor’s daughter who got shot during a gang shoot-out in 1992. She was quiet, graceful, smiley girl who was caught in the cross fire. Veasna means “fate” or “chance”. Her death touched me forever.
***
Jane was everything to me. She was my mother. She was my best friend and confidant. I felt she was even my “husband.” Greg went out with his girlfriend talking “politics” and the fate of Cambodia while I was giving birth to a new life in a roomful of strangers.
-“So...What are you going to name your child, Samnang?” Jane asked.
-“Veasna”
-“Is she going to have American name, too?” a doctor asked.
-“Yeah,” I looked away at the white empty wall, all shiny by the bright light. -“It’s going to be Veasna.”
-“That’s not American name?” said a voice
-“Well, she was born right here in America. And Veasna is her American name.” I said with a smile yet wondering why American name is such a big deal.
-“Congratulations, Samnang. You did very well, honey.” said Jane while kissing my forehead. She held my hand. I looked in her eyes. She kept smiling. I smiled, too, but with tears rolling down my cheeks.
-“Your daughter is beautiful.” Jane whispered in my ear.
-“Is she okay?”
-“Yes, she’s okay”

I had been in the hospital for almost three days. It didn’t seem that long. But then half of the time I was sleeping. . My mother and family came to see me. So did my mother-in-law. My husband never showed up to see his daughter.

-“Samnang, the doctor said you can leave tomorrow.”
-“But where is my baby?”
-“She’s in that room over there”
Jane walked me out to the opposite room.
I felt so light but still had a lot of pain in my body. As I was looking through the glass window, I saw a reflection coming from behind me.

-“A-nang, I am so sorry.”
-“Hi, Greg.” said Jane then turned and looked away through the glass windows. I turned around and looked at Greg. I stared at him then suddenly I fell onto the floor. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of him that made me sick or just me feeling weak.
-“Are you okay, A-nang.” Greg panicked.
-“Call the doctor!” Jane talked to the one of the nurses
-“Put her in a wheelchair.” Jane added.

The next minute I was back on my bed---half-conscious.
-“Hi, my name is Greg. I’m the father...her husband”
-“I am Dr. Ismanu. She’s still weak but she’ll be alright. One of the nurses will bring Veasna out in a few minutes.”
-“Bring who?”
-“Veasna, your baby.”
-“Yessss, a baby boy.” Greg jumped up with happiness while everyone in the ward was looking at him.
-“It’s a baby girl. Congratulations!” said Dr. Ismanu.
-“Oh” Greg looked at the doctor with disappointment.

It seemed like just last night that Greg slapped me. Though I couldn’t stand looking at him or hearing his voice, I pretended that nothing happened. I tried to forget whatever problems that had happened but it seems like they just couldn’t forget me.
* * *

It’s now Spring. Snow turned to water. Leafless trees came back to life. Life itself began to take its new form. Flowers were blossoming and so was Veasna. The baby was two months old. Grandma loved her. Her aunts and uncle loved her though my siblings didn’t come so often because they were afraid of Jacqueline. Jacqueline only talked to Veasna, the peasant’s blood, when she felt that I was not around. She had moved to her dormitory. She was more involved in her campus activities and she had her own problems.

My mother-in-law seemed to try to forget about my past. Veasna was her first grand daughter. She looks a lot like me, dark-skin and wavy jet-black hair. My mother-in-law and my family, especially my mother, became closer and closer. They liked to get together and talk about old times. They talked about the quiet and peaceful life that once was in their village and how much they had suffered in the Khmer Rouge regime. My mother-in-law lost four brothers and a sister. I lost two uncles.


Greg was around more often. He seemed to change ever since he became a father even though he still had his “political” meetings most of the weeknights. However, one thing that did not change in his mind was Cambodia. Greg’s definite move to Cambodia was not announced until a few days before he left for Phnom Penh. He had to go to Cambodia. He had to save Cambodia. He had to leave and even the presence of his two-month old daughter could not stop him. I tried to convince him not to leave his job as an accountant with Northwest Bank but it was no use. I could not stop him.

* * *

It was Saturday and a nice day out. Jane and I were strolling Veasna in the Mega Mall while three girls and a guy kept staring at us.
-"Samnang? Do you know those kids?" Asked Jane. I looked to my left shoulder then I saw a girl with black leather jacket running toward me. As soon as I realized it was Sinath. I looked down at Veasna as if I hadn’t seen her.
-"Sammy! Sammy! Oh, God, where have you been?" I was excited to see Sinath. I wanted to hug her. At the same time, I wanted to run away and hide knowing that they were hunting me down. Sinath was my best friend. She was known by her American name, Sally.

-"Sammy! It’s me. You’d better hide. If Tommy knows where you live he’s gonna have you killed. -Is that your baby?" Asked Sally while trying to catch her breath.
-"Yeah, her name is Veasna. I noticed Sally froze as soon as she heard that name.
-“And this is Mrs.…” I continued.
-“Uh, never mind”, said Mrs. Hauer half-panicked as if she knew what was going on. We started to rush away. I hadn’t finished talking yet when another girl whom I did not recognize came running. She must be a new member.

-"Yeah, that’s okay. Please take care of them," said Sally to Mrs. Hauer loudly.

-"Who was that, Sally?" Asked a girl.
-"I thought she was someone I knew." Responded Sally then walked away.
* * *

-"Who are those people, Samnang?" Asked Jane.
-"They are gangsters." I said while rushing to the parking lot.

On the way home, there was silence in the car except an occasional cry from Veasna.

-"Yes, Jane, I was a gangster, alright!? But I am not anymore. I have been trying to live a clean life and my name is Samnang. Sammy is not even my real name but that’s what they called me. I am trying my best. I broke down and cried. Veasna, too, was crying as if she understood my guilt.
-"Stop it, Samnang. I understand. Jane was trying to comfort the baby and me. She took us to her home instead. I kept crying and trying to explain everything to her …

-"After all this time, who would ever thought they were still looking to hunt me down. Yes, I was tough. I raided my neighbors’ apartments several times and I never got caught. I beat up a few new recruits. I was Tommy’s favorite girl. He’s the gang leader. He was an orphan. His parents, his four sisters, and a brother were all killed in the Khmer Rouge regime. He came to America at age 17, sponsored by a distant relative. He is about 10 years older than I. I knew he loved me. But I couldn’t stand his beatings so I left. He has good command of the English language. He, too, had been picked on and beaten up in school. As head of the gang, he’s tough, mean, and ruthless. He’s been known to kill whoever resisted him. My departure from him was a slap in the face. That’s why he’s been after me. Greg and his family only found out that I was in a gang after our marriage. That’s why they don’t like me. That’s why they always look down on my family and me. Also because we came from a peasant background, therefore, uncivilized and uneducated. I am sick of this “class society”. I am sick of this “rich poor, Black White bullshit”. Why is this world full of hypocrisy? Why is this world full of hatred?"

Jane just sat there and tried to calm the baby while looking at me. All she said to me was “that’s okay, we all make mistakes…This world can be unjust”. After that, I wondered if Jane still considered me as her friend anymore. I would expect Jane to be shocked after hearing my story. But no, she was calm.
* * *

As soon as, I entered the house, the phone rang.
-Hello?
-“You bitch! If you sleep around with my husband again I’ll kill you”. Said the voice.
-"Hello! Excuse me?!"
-"Yeah, bitch, you know what I am talking about." Insisted the voice angrily.
-Sorry, you must have dialed a wrong number." I hung up and wondered who that was. Who would want to sleep with someone else husband?

-“A-nang, is the baby okay?” Asked my mother-in-law. “Don’t take her out too much when it’s cold or she will get sick”.
-She’s okay, mak.

* * *

The communication between Jacqueline and I have improved a little. No, she still doesn’t want to talk to me but at least she had stopped sneering and snickering at me. Better yet, she talked to Veasna. Yes, that’s a big improvement. She has changed a bit lately. Maybe time does heal some wounds after all.

Even though Jacqueline was living on campus, she had a habit of coming home on the weekends. We never had dinner together. She never liked my cooking. She was not much into Cambodian food. Every time her mother cooked prohok (fermented fish) or somlor korko (mixed vegetables with fish and fish pastry), she would complain that it was smelly. It’s peasants’ food. She ate mostly American and Italian food like Wendy’s, Perkins, or Pizza Hut. To her, it was classy.

***
Rring! Rring! Rring!
-“Hello, is Jackie there?” Asked a female voice.
-"No, I am sorry. She lives on campus."
-“But doesn’t she come home?”
-"Yes, usually on the weekends."
-“ Thank you”. Said the voice politely. Somehow, that soft voice sounded very familiar. Just as I was hanging up the phone, Jacqueline walked in.

-"Sok sabai tay, bong?" I greeted her as she passed by. She didn’t respond. "Someone called for you." I added.
-"Who?" She turned around and responded.
-"Chah bong, she did not leave a message." I answered feeling guilty.
-Hmmm. Jacqueline sighed, shook her head, and walked straight to her room. She probably thought I was a lousy secretary. But since when was I her secretary? No, I don’t think she had a bad day. It’s just the way she talked to me.
* * *

About an hour later…
Around 9:00PM.

Ding ding! Ding ding!

Hmm, who could that be coming here around this time I wondered.

Ding! Ding! Ding!
-"Hi, how can I help you?"
The lady did not respond instead she looked me up and down from my head to my toes. She appeared to be in a bad mood.
-"Are you Jackie? The lady asked coldly. She stood there in front of me with hands in her trench coat. I froze, thinking whatever was going on didn’t sound good.
-"No, I am sorry, I’m not her and she's not here." My defensive instinct told me to lie to her. The angry lady walked back to her car with no goodbye or thank you and sped away.

-"Who was that?" Asked Jacqueline who rarely used my name.
-"That was an Asian woman looking for you."
-"What did you tell her? Why didn’t you tell me?"
-"Chah bong, she looked very angry. I didn’t think it was a good idea…"
-"Didn’t you know that I was in here? Jacqueline interrupted.
-"Bong, she was in a very bad mood."

As we were arguing, Greg came in from work. Or maybe from his nightly political meeting.

-"What’s going on?" Asked Greg.
-"Since when does she care about me?" Jacqueline raised her voice projecting it at Greg.
-"Have I ever lied to someone about you, huh, Me-Knang?" Jacqueline was on fire.
-"What is going on?" Now Greg was on fire, too.
-"There was Asian lady who came here to look for sister Jacqueline. She looked very angry. I thought I didn’t want to have any problems or fight in here so I lied to her that sister Jacqueline was not here."

Suddenly, Jacqueline seemed to realize something. She was quiet; she stared at Greg in silence then walked into her room.

* * *

April 1995,

Minneapolis International Airport at 2:00pm

Four Cambodians were waiting for Greg and for their flight to leave at 3:30pm. About ten others were friends and relatives coming to see them off. The three men and a woman were in suits and ties. They looked very educated and important. Greg did not introduce me to his friends. He never did. But knowing that I was Greg’s wife, they greeted me. With us, there were 15 people including my mother, mother-in-law, Jacqueline, and friends…

Everyone greeted one another with palms together and bowed in respect. They were happy to go to Cambodia. Some will see it for the first time in so many years. For others, this was not their first trip.

A beautiful woman, well dressed and well mannered, walked straight to my mother-in-law, raised both hands together gracefully, bowed, and greeted her.
-“Chumreap soor neark meanh”
-“Ah good, Praise to Buddha.
Then she turned to Greg and smiled. She continued her greeting with the rest including my mother. She hugged Jacqueline. The two talked for a while. Then she turned her attention back to Greg. Finally, she looked briefly at me and smiled.
-“Hi, baby!” She talked to Veasna but she just stared back at me.

I did not feel I fitted in that crowd. But I kept busy with Veasna and my mother. It was my husband’s big trip yet I felt lonely in the crowd. Everyone was taking pictures, talking about Cambodia and their flight itinerary while I talked and played with Veasna.
“Papa is going. Papa is going away.” I mumbled these words. Veasna looked at me and cried. I felt the tears rushing out but I held it and I tried not to cry.

My mother didn’t look like she fit in either but she smiled and kept wishing everyone a safe trip.

-“Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention, please: Flight 915 will be boarding in 15 minutes”.

Everyone got up and shook hands with those who was traveling and hugged them. My mother-in-law cried. Veasna also cried as if she knew what was happening. Greg came to me put his arm on my shoulder and tried to look me in the eyes but I looked away and cried. I grabbed and hugged him. He probably felt embarrassed but I was sad to see him leave.

-“A-nang, take care of the baby, ok?”
-“Chah, bong. You take care of yourself,” I cried and talked at the same time. Greg reached out to Veasna and gave her a kiss. The baby just kept crying as if to say---why are you leaving, daddy?

The line was forming and everyone proceeding slowly to the terminal to have his or her tickets checked before boarding. Greg and his group was admitted and proceeded. I picked up Veasna and ran after Greg but he was gone. I cried and my baby cried also.

I wailed. My mother tried to comfort me. We stayed at the airport for another 15 minutes before heading home.
* * *


It was on that gloomy April day that Greg Hak Chan, my husband, packed his belongs and headed for Cambodia to work for an American Non-Governmental Organization. He left me, our baby, and his family behind. I felt empty. I felt angry. I felt sadder than ever. I wept and wept. Crying for God’s help? Crying for strength? I don’t know but I cried, trying to blame it all on myself. Sometimes, I cried because Cambodia was falling apart, because we had to leave our homeland, because my parents were divorced and because of me. I cried because Greg left us. I hoped he was going to be all right. Sometimes, I wondered how Greg will save Cambodia if he couldn’t even save his family. Would I ever see him again?
I felt sad but I have a companion, Veasna. I have somebody to talk to now.
* * *


One month had passed. I did not hear anything from Cambodia. Greg never wrote. Neither did he call. My mother-in-law spent more times at her other son's house. My mother and my brothers and sisters came to visit me more often and helped to baby-sit. Jacqueline came home less and less. The woman who asked for her never stopped calling. By now, Veasna could roll over and was more aware of her surroundings. Jane came by as usual to see the baby and me. The house seemed empty and uninhabited. I got into a habit of escaping from my sadness and boredom by reading more and more. One of my favorite reading materials was National Geographic magazine. Whether I read, cooked, or played with Veasna, Greg was always on my mind---the good things and the bad things about him. He was always quiet though seemed to always be in another world. I found him to be intelligent yet narrow-minded. Sometimes, I wonder if intelligence and narrow-mindedness are compliments of each other.

I always felt bad that an “educated” man like him married a “loser” like me. But then that’s what could happen when a marriage is arranged by the parents. If something goes wrong, you could always blame it on them because they were the ones who decided that part of life for you. All this time, neither my mother nor mother-in-law could live my life for me. I had to live my life for myself and I always will. It was I who experienced the pain, the sadness, and blame.

* * *

-"Hello"
-"Hi, this is Janet calling from the St. Paul Police Department. Is this the Chan residence?"
-"Y…Yes"
-"Are you related to Ms Jacqueline S. Chan?"
-“Yes”
-“Sorry to tell you that she’s at St. John’s Hospital Emergency room.”
-“Hospital?”
-“Yes, Ma’am. She was checked in about two hours ago”
-“What happened?” I asked in amazement. Veasna bawled suddenly. She cried out loud, I had to run and hug her. She whimpered some more then suddenly she was calm.
-“Sorry, what happened to her again?”
-“She is listed in serious condition. You have to go to St John Hospital Emergency room on Aberdeen Ave and Hasborough.

I still didn’t understand what was going on. The lady did not tell what happened to Jacqueline. I called my brother-in-law but only to find out that he left with my mother-in-law to Rochester. My siblings were in school. My mother was the only one home. I picked her up and we rushed to the hospital.
* * *

In the Emergency room…

The nurse-receptionist told us that Jacqueline was in a car accident. We were not permitted to see her even though I kept on insisting. About two hours later, we got the okay from the surgeon. My mother had to stay outside with Veasna.

I didn’t not recognize Jacqueline at all. Two people were on separate beds. I could not tell which one was her until I was told. Half of her body was wrapped up even her face except for her eyes, mouth, and nose. As I got closer and closer, my heart started to beat faster and faster. I tried to hold back my tears but I could not for it was life and death. The nurse saw me crying so she had to escort me out. Jacqueline lied still on the bed with her eyes close. Was she unconscious? This time would be my mother’s turn. While I waited outside, the nurse pushed one bed out of that ward, I ran after her with Veasna in my arms.
-“Are you a family member of Mr. Robert Wu?” asked the nurse
-“Robert Wu?”
-“Sorry, is it not Jacqueline Chan?”
-“No, she’s still in that room.”
Walking back to the waiting room, I wondered whether they were together in the same car or collided into each other in separate cars.

Thirty minutes later, I went back in to see Jacqueline.

-“Bong, bong. It’s Samnang.” I noticed Jacqueline was trying to move her head in response to my voice.
-“Bong, are you okay?” Jacqueline turned towards me. I wondered if she recognized me. She couldn’t talk but I could tell she was trying. Her lips quivered as if trying to find words to say to me. Her eyes half-closed, covered with tears.
-“Bong, you are going to be alright.” She still couldn’t talk but more tears kept coming out. Jacqueline looked at the white ceiling. It seemed to have all the memorable stories of her life as they appeared before her eyes. Could they be her future career as a doctor? Could it be Greg? Whatever they were gave her more pain than the accident itself.

-“Mak was not home when the nurse called. Veasna was outside with my mother.” I tried to tell Jacqueline. The more I talked the more she cried. I turned away for a minute then I heard a rattling noise behind me. Jacqueline was moving, trying to get my attention. I wanted let her rest alone but it seemed too cruel to leave her alone in this white, sterile world. I was sure she needed somebody like I did when I was alone. There were no other relatives but Veasna and me.
-“Bong?” I called Jacqueline as I turned around. She made groaning noise, which sounded painful.
-“Bong, I am here”. I assured her. This time she moaned out loud expressing her pain.
-“It’s okay, Bong”. I started to weep as I approached her bed. She really was in bad shape. The nurse came in as soon as she heard Jacqueline crying out loud. I was asked to leave the room and come back the next day. I wiped my tears as I went away to the waiting room to rejoin my mother and Veasna. On our way out, an Asian woman with two little girls were passing by. I wanted to tell mother that I had seen that woman before but wasn’t sure. She could be someone else.

* * *
On the way back, we all were quiet at first even Veasna. I explained to my mother Jacqueline’s condition…

-“Hmmmm” my mother sighed deeply. “Life, it’s like that. You appoint, God disappoints”
-“What do you mean, mother?”
-“She will never be the same.” Said mother.
-“Who knew Jacqueline would be in an accident, mother?”
-“Whatever you do, always be careful. Happiness then comes sadness.” Mother used the Cambodian expression implying that when you are too happy trouble will soon follow.
-“She is an educated woman. She comes from a well-educated, rich family” mother said proudly.
-“What do you mean by being “educated”, mother?” Besides, we live America. We are all the same,” I added.
-“No, in Khmer Rouge regime, we were all the same. Here in America, the educated move up the social ladder.”
-“Mother, what does “educated” mean? I raised my voice at mother.
-“A-nang, watch the road!” She looked at me and paused. You are my daughter. Don’t raise your voice at me like that.” Mother took another deep breath and continued. “She is in college. She is smart. She is going to become one of the few Cambodian women doctors.”
-“Mother, just because someone goes to college doesn’t mean that he or she is smart. And just because someone said she is going to become a doctor doesn’t mean that she is going to be.” Also we’re in the 90s now not in the 70s anymore and besides lots of people lie about their past.”
-“How could you say such a thing? I know her father. He was a well-respected man.” Mother retorted.
-“Mother, you know of her father. Well anyway, I am not talking about her father. Maybe he was just a “city boy” cruising by the countryside once in a while. The peasants seemed to always have respect for city dwellers and foreigners anyway. Maybe that’s why he was well-respected. Mother, most of my friends used to tell me that their fathers were a General with two stars, three stars, a son of a professor, or came from a royal family. But they were just like me---in a gang, cheating, stealing, cursing, manipulating other people’s mind, and talk worse than the “peasants”. You name it, mother.
-“I hope she’s alright.” Said mother. I could tell that her mind was still with Jacqueline while I rambled on by myself.
-“Mother, I hope you are not going to force my brothers and sisters to become what they don’t want to be.
-“Me-knang, I am their mother. I am your mother. You must listen to me. I will never guide you wrong.” There was silence for moment. “Hmm, kids these days just don’t respect their parents. Just because I don’t speak English. They think they know everything.” Mother was upset with me for talking back at her. She mumbled more words in desperation while looking at the city lights. I always felt more comfortable talking to mother whether I was upset or not. With outsiders, I was always nervous. I dared not confront.

I questioned how this tragedy that just happened to Jacqueline could incite such a conversation. Maybe troubled times like this is a good time to re-analyze life. Is it the fear of being hurt that prompts such caution? Is it a preparation for good times to come? As they say, when there is happy time, there will be sad time and vice versa. Why does life have to be this way? Does it have to be this way?

* * *

Five o’clock in the morning at my mother’s house.

-“Hi, may I talk to Samnang please”
-“Yes, this is she”
-“I am calling from St. John Hospital”
-“Is Jacqueline alright?”
-“I am afraid not”
-“We need a family member here, immediately. She is asking for someone”.
-“Okay, I will be right there.” Feeling half asleep, I had asked my mother to come along. The rest of my in-laws were in Rochester. Veasna who normally cried a lot during the night, had not cried at all which was a little strange.

* * *

-“I am Samnang Tho”
-“Hi, you are here for Jacqueline Chan?
-“Yes” I answered the nurse’s question while my eyes were searching for Jacqueline’s bed.
-“She’s been making sounds as if to ask for someone” the nurse explained.
-“She has been calling out someone’s name, but it was too weak for me to make out who she wants”. The nurse added.
-“Bong, are you okay?” I asked as I entered Jacqueline’s room. She turned around and tears kept streaming down her cheeks. Her face was swollen and was full of stitches.
-“Chakie?” My mother called her but couldn’t say anymore than that. In fact, I didn’t think she recognized her.
-“Is she alright?” I turned to the nurse who signaled me to come to her.
-“Her head is badly fractured, she also has a broken hip, her upper left ribs are also fractured. She has lost a lot of blood”. As the nurse was explaining, Veasna cried suddenly. Mother had to take her outside. Suddenly, different machines were making all sorts of noises.


Three or four nurses came running into Jacqueline’s room. I was panicked and so was mother.
-“Dr. James Uchida, emergency room 415.” One nurse was paging Dr. Uchida.
-“Is she alright?… “Is she alright” I kept asking but did not seem to get the answer instead they insisted that we had to leave the room. All I could hear were the nurses talking and different machines beeping which reminded me of the ambulance rushing through the traffic lights trying to race with death.

Outside in the waiting room, we waited impatiently. Mother called home occasionally to find out if my siblings were okay.

It was 10AM. I was tired. Mother was tired. Veasna was asleep. Dr. James Uchida came out looking neither sad nor smiling.

-“Are you her mother?” Dr. Uchida asked mother.
-“No. Friend.” Mother responded.
-“And I am her sister-in-law. Is she okay?” I interrupted.
-“No, I am afraid she is not”. Both mother and I understood the response perfectly. We cried.
-“I am sorry. It was a really bad accident. Her injuries was so grave. I tried my best to save her. But…”

* * *
My mother-in-law came back from Rochester only to learn that her daughter was dead. She did not even get a chance to say goodbye. Her only daughter had died during her absence.
It was a very sad and profound moment for our family. Greg was gone. Jacqueline passed away. All this was very sad but true.

As for me, I wanted tell her many things. If given a chance, I wanted to apologize to her if I had hurt her in anyway. As far as my past, I had no control over it. It was past. I wanted to tell her that I had tried not only to be a good citizen of the family but to the world. I had made mistakes and I tried to learn from them.
* * *

It was over two months since Jacqueline’s death. Greg called home telling us that he was coming back. It was then that we informed him of Jacqueline’s demise. The following week, Greg arrived. No, he did not come alone. He came with that beautiful woman I saw with him at the airport almost three months ago. Yes, her name is Monica. Monica was already pregnant. One of the reasons why they came back from Cambodia was their inappropriate behavior while in service. They were discharged from the service. Sad but true.

All Greg said to me was “I am going to marry Monica.” No big fight from me just a very long silence. Looking back, I truly believed that silence was golden. Why fight? I cried so much that I had no more tears for Greg. I conserved my energy for Veasna. Greg, according to mother, was a cunning man. Besides he had been with Monica for a long time and his decision to marry Monica seemed very intelligent and sound.

I never fought for child support for Veasna for I never believed in revenge. It’s on Greg’s conscience as a father to help out, to care for, and to love Veasna. We had never registered by American law as husband and wife. Our wedding was conducted with the traditional Cambodian ceremony. Even if we were married “legally”, that piece of paper couldn’t rule our hearts anyway.

Greg and Monica had a baby girl. They moved to Detroit, Michigan. My mother-in-law moved in with her other son. Veasna was seven months old by then. Mother and my siblings moved in with me. Jane was still my good friend.

With Jane’s help, I was able to pass the G.E.D exam by September of that year. I would never thought about going back to school let alone college. However, passing the exam was a motivation in itself. Now I was ready for college.

College…

-“Welcome to Advanced ESL class. I am professor Jörgen, Joseph Jörgen.”
Before you can take regular English, you must pass this class. Our focus for this semester will include Reading, Writing, and Vocabulary Building. The Tutoring Lab will be open from 8AM to 11PM. If you need help for more than one hour, you must make an appointment with one of the tutors. This syllabus will be your guide during our time together”.

As professor Jorgen handed out the syllabus, my heart beat with excitement. I was happy about my first day in college. I would never thought that I would be sitting in here among the “educated”? On my left was Yoko from Japan, to my right was Ismaël from Israel, in front me was Florence from France, behind me was Revekka from Romania.
I was the only Cambodian in this class.

I was not at all intimidated or nervous because I could understand Professor Jorgen more than some of the other people in the class. While the professor was speaking, I took the opportunity to glance through the whole classroom. Looking around the room full of people of different races and different faces I felt assured that I would do alright, then I smiled. Thinking to myself, I had dropped out of high school twice. I was always curious about things in life and life itself but never succeeded in high school. I did not do too well on my G.E.D exam but I passed it. It was a small step towards a new beginning with more meaning. How did that meaning come about? Was it the more you lived life the more it became rewarding to you? Was it the experiences of life that washed away my innocence? In that sense, I am thankful to life itself. I appreciate what I have been through. I am grateful to all my friends and all my foes who had and still have taught me so many things I need to know about life.

-“Please turn to page 11 in Building Your Vocabulary. Here you have 15 words for your homework tomorrow.” Professor Jorgen pointed out.
I browsed through page 11 and I saw the following vocabulary:

Nouns:
Serendipity
Humility
Consideration
Liberty
Prejudgment
Conscience
Freedom

Adjectives:
Proud
Discriminating
Phenomenal
Educated
Bourgeois

Verbs:
Stifle
Reward
Forsake

-“Mr. Jorgen, what mean Liberty? Like statue of Liberty?” Asked Yoko.
-“It means Freedom,” answered Revekka. As I was skimming through the page, I found another word that made me confused between the meaning of freedom and liberty.
-“Professor, what is the difference between Liberty and Freedom?” I asked excitedly.
-"Class, these words will be your homework for tomorrow. Do 10 words of your choice and do the rest for your extra credit. That’s right Class, what is Freedom? Give me your answer tomorrow."

What is Freedom? This was the question that I had been trying to find out for quite sometime.

-“ The class will have an essay due on Friday.” Said Professor Jorgen while I was pondering about life.
-"What’s essay about, Professor?” ask Mohamed
-“You can write about anything you want. It will be a topic of your choice. Write about things you like to do. Write about America. What do you think of America?
-“America?” I asked myself. I thought it would be a good topic since I have a lot to write about.
-“Write about your country…” he added “Write about yourself. Write about your life!” Professor Jörgen gestured with two hands in the air.
“Hmm…about my life? The story of my life?” I thought as I looked up and then gave him a big smile. Why, sure professor! Why not? I have something to share with the world. I can tell you what I think of America. I can tell you about Cambodia. I can tell you the story of my life. * * *

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