Authors: Hsu-Ming Teo
Behind the Moon (16 page)
‘I thought, if that’s how he reacts and he’s supposed to be my best friend, what will happen if my family finds out? Well, I guess we know now.’
‘It can’t be that bad,’ Tien said. ‘Your father has always been so liberal-minded about all sorts of things. I mean, you expect homophobia from Bob, but not from your dad.’
‘Yeah, it’d be all right if it was someone else’s son. He’d be real open-minded then.’
Tien was gratified that Justin shared such confidences about himself; things she was sure nobody else knew. She hoarded his secrets as a sign of their intimacy. She thought that they would resume their interrupted friendship and everything would be the way it was in high school. Sure, Gibbo was out of the loop now, but she assumed that Justin would get to know Stan while she would get to know Justin’s partner and his friends. They would all hang out together happily ever after.
She mentioned this to Stan and he was thrilled at the thought of having a couple of gay guys to add to his motley multicultural crew of arty friends, whom he acquired like cosmopolitan accessories. He couldn’t stop talking about it.
‘How fabulous! All we’d need to round off the group are some Koori friends. I don’t know any Koori people, do you? Where does one go to meet interesting Koori people? We must ask Justin. Maybe he or his gay friends know some Kooris.’
But Tien only saw Justin a few more times before she got married and moved away. Justin never took to Stan, nor did he introduce Tien to his partner or his friends, gay or otherwise. He had a busy social life which did not include her. As in her late adolescence, she kept waiting for him to call but he didn’t. In the end she just didn’t understand the basis of friendship. How did people connect with each other in such a way that they achieved, at the very least, some sense of community, however evanescent or illusory? Try as she might, she could not figure out the requirements for a life-lasting friendship.
What were the overlaps that kept human beings adjacent and anchored to your life? Shared interests or occupation? Ethnicity, gender, sexuality, religion, the common experience of rejection or failure? How was it that some people managed to manacle others to their lives, bearing their childhood friendships with them triumphantly into the future towards death, whereas others found friendship as weak as water, sparkling and slipping away through cupped fingers, leaving only the impression of wetness and a thirst unquenched?
Tien tried hard to maintain the friendship. She needed to restore the sensation of closeness. Even though Justin did not call her, she rang him regularly. But she grew increasingly frustrated with their conversations. Despite Gibbo’s betrayal, Justin never failed to ask her whether she had heard from him. And when he learned that Stan was suing Gillian Gibson, he was furious.
‘I can’t believe you’re doing this. How’s it going to make Gibbo feel?’ he demanded.
‘Quite frankly, I don’t care,’ Tien said. ‘Fuck Gibbo. Why don’t you think about how I feel for once? He’s the one who let you down and yet it’s always Gibbo first with you.’
She did not call Justin again and, this time, she was not surprised when he made no attempt to earn her forgiveness and friendship. She simply did not matter enough to him and, because of that, Stan’s importance in her life was magnified. If she did not hold on to Stan, who would be there as her fallback when she grew older and everyone she knew married or moved out of her life? She was not even sure that her family would be there for her.
Tien never realised how much she wanted her family’s approval until they withdrew it. They did not approve of the way she treated her mother. She was a daughter who did not show
hieu thao
, and even being engaged to an Asian doctor could not make up for her lack of respect for her mother.
To Tien’s way of thinking, she could never balance the scales with her mother once she’d wronged her. It didn’t matter that Linh sighed and said she didn’t mind; that there was nothing to forgive; that Tien was her daughter, no matter what, and she loved her anyway. Guilt hung heavy with the last word:
anyway
. That one word contained everything that was wrong between them. As Tien grew older, she became aware that there were things she had done which needed to be expiated, but she also realised that atonement was unending and guilt was unassuageable.
What she really needed, therefore, was for her mother to commit a crime against her. Tien needed Linh to do something so big and so bad to her that not only would the scales balance, they would tip in her favour and at last put her in a position of moral superiority—of utter, guilt-free rightness. She kept a mental list of her mother’s major crimes:
1 She abandoned me to stay behind in Vietnam and let me think she was dead.
2 On the first day we met, she punished me for something I didn’t mean to do.
3 She didn’t have the right to punish me because she wasn’t really my mother at the time. She was just a stranger. She hadn’t
earned
any maternal authority.
4 Because of her, Gillian didn’t want to be my mother anymore. She caused Gillian to abandon me.
5 She’s a dictator; she made me stay at home and study through my school and uni years so I couldn’t cultivate close friendships.
6 She wasn’t there for me because she was too busy making money.
7 She doesn’t approve of Stan.
8 She doesn’t approve of me; maybe she doesn’t really love me. Or if she does, it’s only because she’s my mother. She doesn’t
like
me.
Tien reviewed this list in her mind from time to time and felt depressed by its adolescent inadequacy. These hurts loomed large in her mind, but they were invisible to everyone else, particularly the family, who only saw a hard-working, longsuffering mother in Linh and a surly, unappreciative daughter in Tien.
One day, however, Linh finally shocked the family and committed a significant sin against Tien: she began to search for a husband after Tien started going out with Stan. After all these years, Tien was proven right. Even if her mother had not intentionally abandoned her, it was now obvious that Linh was not content simply to be a mother to her, and nothing else. All this time, Linh had been pretending to be a good mother, pretending to try to make up for the missing years, when the truth was that having Tien as a daughter was not enough. Linh was a woman who needed a man in her life. (‘Remember all those American GIs?’ Stephanie-Tiffany-Melanie said to Tien.) Linh wanted to find love. She wanted to be married. She had the same needs as Tien, and Tien despised her for it.
Being a practical, focused woman, Linh went about it systematically. She wanted a high-earning professional as a husband, so she hung out in the lobbies of expensive hotels. She sat on plush sofas and waited. She wandered over to the bar and practised taking long slow sips of her mineral water. She donned her Chanel knock-off suit, entered expensive restaurants and ordered salads. She nibbled slowly on lettuce leaves and did her best to look available and interesting. No-one approached her. She paid her bill and left alone.
Then she put an ad in the local newspaper under ‘Nice Asian Woman’:
Caring Asian lady, early 40s, looking for honest gentleman for loving marriage. Any nationality, professionals preferred. No time wasters.
Their answering machine blinked manically, inundated with messages for Linh. She replayed them with delight and Tien listened with disbelieving jealousy. Men wanted her mother. Linh was more popular than her.
Linh went out on several dates. She swatted away groping fingers, thrust out her left hand and firmly repeated Auntie Ai-Van’s mantra: ‘No engagement ring, no sex.’ She did not see those men again. Eventually, she joined a dinner dating group and met up with Gibbo. She became friends with him even though the Gibsons had ruined the Dead Diana Dinner and Gibbo had betrayed Justin.
Tien could not believe it. She was engaged to Stan. This should have been
her
time to be pampered. She should have been the centre of attention. Linh should have been fussing over her like a
real
mother, picking out bridal clothes, arranging a band or DJ, booking tencourse banquets at some red-roomed, gold-chandeliered, dragon-festooned Chinese or Vietnamese restaurant. But Linh was not there for Tien. Nobody was there for poor Tien except Stan.
Instead, Linh was out dating men and spending time with Gibbo, who had betrayed Justin. Tien knew. Even in the busyness of her work teaching English to foreign students preparing for university, even in the midst of her wedding preparations, she found time to keep tabs on her mother’s relations with men. When she came back from Bondi once a week to visit Linh, she snooped through her mother’s cupboards and drawers, and pawed through her mail. And when Linh began to be harassed by Gibbo, when his dogged devotion turned into the unheeding obsession of a stalker, Tien was appalled, but she also felt vindicated. Linh had not been a good mother and now she was paying the price.
His face yearned for her face, his heart her heart.
The study-room turned icy, metal-cold— brushes lay dry, lute strings hung loose on frets . . .
Fast gate, high wall: no stream for his red leaf, no passage for his bluebird bearing word.
Nguyen Du,
The Tale of Kieu
7 September 1997
Dear Linh,
I am so grateful for your presence last night. I don’t know
how I could have got through that disaster of a dinner
without you. You’ve been so good to me and I wish I could
tell you how much I appreciate your kindness. You didn’t
condemn me for betraying Justin and you didn’t side with
Tien even though, as her mother, you’d be inclined to.
Instead you held out the hope of future friendship. What a
wonderful encouragement you are! In the midst of a nightmare
I feel we forged a powerful bond. You are the first
person to make me feel good about myself for such a long
time. Thank you for your sympathy and support.
Love,
Gibbo
PS Will you call me? I need to talk to you.
10 September 1997
Dear Linh,
I’ve been thinking about you continuously for the past few
days, waiting for you to call. Do you know what it’s like to
have all your hopes invested in the plastic handset of a Telstra
phone? To pass by the phone a dozen times an hour? To look
at it with intense concentration as though by sheer effort of
will I could make it ring? To be housebound for fear that you
would call in my absence?
I began to wonder if you would ever call. I began to lose
hope. But I should have had more faith in you, for finally you
did call. I wish I could write down how I feel but the poets
have said it all and left me with nothing but trite clichés. In
any case, words are inadequate to express how much your . . .
well,
friendship
means to me. I guess you feel the same. You
said so little yet I feel that beneath the silence our souls
touched. After you hung up I held on to the receiver, unwilling
to let go of that link with you.
I am filled with exhilaration at the thought of your existence.
The memory of your face is like a blessing to me.
Love,
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 12 September 1997
Subject: apology
Dear Linh,
I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I rang yesterday. I didn’t mean to. Offending you is the last thing I’d ever want to do. And I wasn’t trying to tell you that you shouldn’t attend the dinner-date sessions, or that you shouldn’t be friends with all those men you meet. Please don’t be angry with me. I was just concerned, that’s all. We’re friends. Aren’t we?
I won’t keep ringing you if it’s not convenient for you at home. I understand. We’ll just keep in touch via email. I hope you don’t mind me ferreting out your email address. I trawled through Tien’s last group email message and, as I suspected, she hadn’t BCC’d the list of recipients and fortunately yours was there as well. Not bad detective work, eh?
Perhaps I should change email servers so that my messages are instantly transmitted to your account. Then I’ll know that somewhere in the midst of fibre-optic cables or satellite signals, a part of us will have miraculously melded through the static of internet traffic.
Please, Linh, I just want us to be friends . . . if friendship is where you’re at right now. I’m very good at waiting. I have waited all my life.
Love,
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 14 September 1997
Subject: Re: apology
You’re right, of course. It would be stupid to change servers for such a dumb reason. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I can’t believe some of the dumb things that pop out of me sometimes! I’m such an idiot. But you know I have only the best intentions where you are concerned.
You asked about my mother. As you can imagine, she’s pretty upset that Stan wants to sue her. Dad blew his top when they got the solicitor’s letter about damages and emotional distress etc. They blame each other, and I can’t help blaming them. I know she was only trying to prevent Mrs Cheong from being robbed. I’m just glad you were there that night and that you’re there for me now. I need you. Things are pretty tense at home these days. They aren’t speaking to each other. Mum has even mentioned divorce. Everything in my life is so awful right now but I can put up with it as long as I have you as a friend. You make everything all right again and I don’t care what else is going on as long as I have your emails to look forward to.
Love from your devoted friend,
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 17 September 1997
Subject: Thank you for being you
Dear Linh,
Your support means a lot to me at this time. I feel so isolated. Mum and Dad seem to be on the verge of separating, and although I’ve tried to get in contact with Justin to apologise yet again, he’s not speaking to me. I don’t blame him, I suppose. I was never a good enough friend to him. I’m no good to anyone. Sometimes I don’t know why you bother with me, especially when Tien hates my guts. I don’t think she or Stan will ever forgive me. You don’t know what that does to me. I know we haven’t been close lately but she’s my oldest and best friend. Losing her is like cutting off a limb.
Linh, I’m so glad we are friends. I’m content to be patient and wait for your friendship to grow. I need your friendship. I need you. I believe desperately in friendship . . . and even more in love.
In the meantime, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. No matter how big or small, I just want to make you happy.
Your true friend,
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 18 September 1997
Subject: AFL game
Dear Linh,
I’ve done what you asked me to. You know I would do so much more for you than this. I’ve managed to get tix to an AFL game at the Sydney Football Stadium! I’ve never been there myself so it’ll be quite an experience for me. I don’t mean that I don’t know anything about AFL, of course, because you couldn’t grow up with Bob as a father and not know at least the basics of the game. I mean, I know quite a lot about it although I’ve never been a huge fan. Fortunately, living in Sydney, there’s only one team for us to support. But you’re quite right, as always: if you’re going to take your friendship with any Aussie bloke (such as myself—just kidding, of course!) anywhere serious, you’ve got to know about all kinds of footy. Except soccer, I suppose. Dad says that’s a wog’s game, but you know how racist he is. I don’t share his views, of course. I hate them, in fact. I’m nothing like him, as you no doubt realise.
He was such a bastard to suggest there was something between the two of you and get everyone all upset, especially Mum, at the DDD. That’s just the kind of man he is. A real arsehole. You don’t know what it was like to grow up with him as a father.
I’ll pick you up this Saturday at 11.
Love,
Gibbo
PS I suppose we’d better wear red and white?
From: [email protected]
Date: 21 September 1997
Subject: I love you!
Dearest Linh,
What a wicked game! And you. You are the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. When I held your hand and led you to the top of the stands, I knew that I’d been right to wait and that patience must have its reward. I can’t stop thinking about our time together. I can’t help wishing we could do it again right now. I want to be with you always.
What can I say? I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—I could keep on repeating those words eternally. I love you eternally.
Your Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 22 September 1997
Subject: Re: I love you!
Dearest Linh,
I suppose you didn’t log on to the internet yesterday. I suppose you were busy. I drove past your apartment block after lunch but the curtains of your living room window were drawn. I drove by again in the early evening but no lights were on. I wanted to see you so much. I need contact with you! I went back home for dinner because Mum had made a roast, then I went out to your place again. The lights were on this time, but I wasn’t sure whether Tien was there and it occurred to me that she and Stanley might not want to see me at the moment, what with the lawsuit and everything. I wanted to ring you. Please say I can ring you. I want to hear your voice. I want to kiss you again. I want to press my lips to the phone receiver, knowing that your lips are at the other end. Your lips are life to me.
Your loving Gibbo.
From: [email protected]
Date: 23 September 1997
Subject: I love you even more!
Dearest Linh,
I could not have been mistaken in what happened between us. I know you must feel what I do. Please, please, please check your email.
Love,
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 25 September 1997
Subject: Re: I love you more than ever!
Dearest Linh,
Where are you? I need to see you, to speak to you. You haven’t answered any of my emails and you don’t pick up the phone . . . if you’re in your apartment. I don’t know. Are you there? I’ve left so many messages on your answering machine but you haven’t called me back. Please, please call me. I need you. I love you.
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 26 September 1997
Subject: Pick up the phone!
Dearest, darling Linh,
Don’t hide from me. There’s no need. I know you’re there. I swung by your place yesterday after uni and I saw you getting out of the car with Stanley and Tien. You were wearing a navy blue pants suit and your hair was loose over your shoulders. You looked so elegant and feminine in your suit. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I know my words are trite, but they’re true.
You looked right at me, across the street and into my car. I saw love in your eyes, but I also saw you signalling me not to come to you while Stan and Tien were around. You knew that I was there, waiting for you, loving you. You wanted to test my patience and my faithfulness. I passed the test once already, and I knew I would pass it again. I waited for them to leave. I waited there all night and finally I fell asleep in the car.
By the time I woke up the next morning, you’d gone to work. I know, because I went up to your flat and hammered on the door. I waited until I was sure you were not home. You must have gone to work by then. You work so hard. You’re so dedicated to the patients you nurse. That’s just another aspect of you that I love. There are so many things about you to love. I think about them—about you—all the time.
I don’t know what to do with myself now. I’m in an internet café, around the corner from your apartment, waiting for you.
How many times do I have to say it? I love you and only you. I think of you and only you. Forever.
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 28 September 1997
Subject: I’m on my way!
Darling Linh,
I went to uni because there was nothing else for me to do, but there was little point to it. Everyone’s doing their major assignments but I can’t focus. I feel so restless. I can’t keep my thoughts off you. Nothing matters except you. I know that you must feel my love wrapping tightly around you although we are separated by half a city—you out in the west, and me here in town.
I can’t stand being away from you. I’m going to send this email, then I’m driving out to find you.
Can you feel me? I’m getting closer to you all the time. You will look out the hospital window and wonder whether each car that whizzes by on the highway, each horn that sounds in the car park, each ping! of the lift, each swish of the doors sliding open, each step in the hallway, each tap on the shoulder—everything announces my imminent arrival at your side. Love is coming to get you. Love will find you. Love will not let you run or hide.
I love you.
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 28 September 1997
Subject: Where are you?
Dearest Linh,
You weren’t there at the hospital and you weren’t at your apartment. Why weren’t you there? Where were you? Where are you?
I NEED to talk to you. Please email me. Or pick up the phone.
LINH, PICK UP THE PHONE!
I love you. I love you forever. I’ll never stop. I’ll never let you down. I’ll never let you go. You are mine and I am yours forever.
Gibbo
From: [email protected]
Date: 1 October 1997
Subject: At last!
Dearest, wonderful, beautiful Linh,
I knew that you were testing me and boy did I pass it well or what! I hung in there and I didn’t let go. I’ll never let go.
I know how you think, how you feel, because I think about you all the time. I know you. You’re insecure. You’re afraid to believe in my love. You’re afraid that I will let you down. Well take a good look at me! I’m still here, waiting for you. I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t stopped calling you. I’m still reaching out to you. I WILL NEVER STOP.
You set the test, but I don’t hold it against you. I know you just want to be certain, the way I am absolutely certain that we are meant to be together. I waited because I knew that my love would triumph, and at last I have my reward.
I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night. At last, we will be together. Do you know how that makes me feel? You don’t at the moment, but you will. I’ll show you. I’ll prove to you that I can be everything you want me to be.