The Working Girls Go By Part 2

"It could make all the difference," he said. Mrs. Ky was bowing; I bowed back. She started to leave, but stopped to say something else to Tan before going on.

"She said, watch out," Tan said. "The barber works with somebody on Nui Lon, that's how he gets the stuff in."

We watched her walk off. Tan stubbed out his cigarette in one of the ubiquitous aluminum pot-pie tins, pocketed the holder, and stood up. "I think she gave you good advice, little sister." He walked to the door, but turned back. "If you learn their names, tell me."

"Sure," I said, although I wasn't certain I meant it.

The next night, Phil and I went to the Yellow Bird to start our drinking there. It felt, if anything, even uglier than it had yesterday. I struck up a conversation--if you could call it that--with the pretty bargirl in the green mini-dress. Ever since Chris Noel had been incountry, mini-dresses had been popular with the working girls. I had heard that on Tu-Do street in Saigon, you could go for days without seeing an ao-da. I thought that was a shame, since ao-das were so flattering. I was glad that the girls at the Sunset Grill were relatively traditional.

While talking to the girl, whose name was Mai, I noticed she had a thin gold chain around her neck. Even though it was a mini-dress, it didn't show cleavage, so what the chain held was hidden. What the h.e.l.l, I thought. "What's on your chain?" I asked, pointing.

She grinned, and pulled out Tuyen's Buddha. I almost s.n.a.t.c.hed it from around her neck. Instead, I asked, "Where did you get that?"

Her face changed. Mine must have shown how I felt; she said nothing and walked away. Phil and I almost left then, but we decided to hang around. I thought the barber might show up, but Top came in the door a few minutes later. I turned away, studying some of the other customers, all the way from a captain down to a PFC who smelled like he'd been on s.h.i.+t patrol all week. He probably had. Maybe I'd put him there.

Mai was talking to the top kick. He glanced our way, giving me and Phil a scowl. I looked at some of the pictures behind the bar while trying to pretend I wasn't. "Time to go, I think," I said to Phil.

As we were getting into the jeep, he asked, "What's the hurry?"

I told him. "The only reason Mai would have run right to him and told him we were asking about the Buddha was if she got it from him--or from someone he's tight with."

"Well, do you think he killed Kitty?"

I shook my head. "Naw. He's not the kind to get his hands dirty." I paused. "Or b.l.o.o.d.y."

"I dunno. You don't get to be First Sergeant without knowing how to shovel s.h.i.+t." He looked over at me. "Or hide the bodies."

I shrugged. "Well, he didn't hide this one."

"Didn't need to, did he?" He looked sour.

I didn't answer. We were parked across the street from the bar, under a tree that s.h.i.+elded us both from the streetlight and from the moon, now nearly full. On the side street next to the Yellow Bird, two figures were arguing. One was the top kick; I was pretty sure the other was our barber friend. I looked around, checking the layout of the streets.

Yeah, I could do this. I shoved my dog tags into my pocket.

"You stay here," I said to Phil, and got out of the jeep. He started to say something but I was gone before I could hear what it was. I shrugged. The one who doesn't listen wins, I thought. Although I wasn't sure what winning meant in this situation. I ducked through the cars and across the street. There was an alley behind the bar which could be reached by going to the other end of the block. If I hurried, I could get close enough to hear what our friends were saying.

I made it; Top was p.i.s.sed, and wasn't holding his voice down. "Why the h.e.l.l did you give this to that little wh.o.r.e?" he said, dangling the Buddha and chain in his hand. "You stupid gook."

Our barber took offense. "You call me gook one more time and I no get you anymore stuff," he said. "You f.u.c.k off. I get someone else."

Top backed down. "Yeah, OK, sorry. But it wasn't very smart."

The barber snorted. "No sweat, GI. You give it back, I get rid of it."

"No, I'll get rid of it." Top stuffed it into his pocket and handed over an envelope. "Here. You got it?"

The barber nodded, took it, pa.s.sed back a plastic bag. "No more names."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll watch it."

I decided to go; I didn't want to get caught listening. I ran quietly back up the alley; coming up to the main street again, I was met by Phil in the jeep.

"I told you to stay there," I said.

"Sue me," he said. "I got nervous and thought I'd try to make it easier for you."

"Hmmph." I looked up the street. Top was messing with the spare tire cover before he climbed into the jeep. "Keep your lights off," I said.

"Maybe he won't see us."

But of course Top pulled the jeep around and drove right by us. I could see him glaring at me as he pa.s.sed. So much for undercover work. I sighed. "Let's go get drunk," I said.

I needed a good drunk; I wanted to get lost in the Grill and the booze and the noise. But it wasn't the same anymore. The music seemed quieter, the heat more oppressive; there was no one I wanted to flirt with. I got a bottle from Tan, drank more, and faster, but couldn't seem to get to that place where Vietnam and the Army went away. The Sunset Grill had changed, and so had the bar girls. Hue tried to cheer me up, but gave up and went off with one of the men.

Sometime after 2200, my eyes were filled with tears and I was filled with desolation and anger. "I hate this place," I said. "I hate what happened, I hate the war and most of all I hate the men who run it and profit from it."

Phil nodded. "You and me both," he said. He wasn't having trouble getting drunk. He waved to Tan to bring him a bottle. The small bartender came over and looked at me.

"Andi, you OK?" He nodded at the bottle I still had.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. He couldn't have helped but notice the tears.

Someone shoved his way to the bar, displacing the PFC next to me, who got up and left his stool. The shover snapped at Tan. "Scotch.

Double." He talked too loudly. Tan moved slowly. "Hurry up, gook!"

Tan moved more slowly.

The drink disappeared down the top kick's throat. I wished it were battery acid. "Another. And move, this time." I tried to wipe my eyes. He had seen me in the jeep, and that must have been too many times in too few days to make him comfortable. Tan turned to pick up the scotch again, and Top said to me, in a low voice, "Missing your little gook p.u.s.s.y, b.i.t.c.h?"

I didn't remember pulling the knife out of my boot, but I must have, because there it was at his throat. He jumped back, b.u.mping the GI behind him, his eyes wide. There was dead silence in the bar. On the reel-to-reel, the Animals were singing I Gotta Get Out of This Place, but my attention was focused on the First Sergeant.

"Give me an excuse," I whispered, the tears still running down my face.

"Andi," Tan's quiet voice cut through the music. He gently touched my hand, pushed it away from the sergeant's throat. "He's not worth it."

"I can get the CO to court-martial you," the sergeant said, rubbing his throat and eyeing the knife. "I got witnesses."

"I don't believe you do," said Tan quietly. The sergeant looked around the room; everyone had turned away.

"You could try court-martialing me, but could you afford to lose all that income from your drug sales?" I asked. "I may not have any proof, but I sure can make a stink. The CO may be under your thumb, but I'll go higher if I have to." I wondered if the CO were in on it. "You'd have to get a new supplier, at least. And someplace new to hide the stuff."

The First Sergeant gave me a malevolent glare and walked out the door.

"Put the knife away, Andi," said Tan.

I did, and stood there thinking until Tan poured me a shot of Early Times. Good stuff. Not the rotgut I had in the bottle I'd paid for earlier. I slid some MPC over the bar to him and he pushed it back, waiting. I threw the shot into the back of my throat, put the empty gla.s.s back on the counter and pushed it back toward him.

"Was he the one?" he asked. He refilled my gla.s.s.

Finally I nodded. I told him what I'd seen, about the Buddha and the barber. He already knew what Mrs. Ky had said; we figured Tuyen had arranged to meet with the barber and had asked for a cut to keep quiet.

It was the only thing that made sense. He had killed her, given Mai the Buddha, and she had known that the barber and Top were doing business together. When I'd asked her where she got the necklace, she had told Top.

The few dollars that Tuyen had asked for wouldn't have meant much to the barber, but either he or the top kick hadn't wanted to share. Both of them were getting rich off the REMFs on the hill; Tuyen was dead, the Sunset Grill was an empty-souled place, and I didn't much care who had done the actual cutting. I wanted them both dead. I regretted not slitting Top's throat right there.

"I don't know the barber's name," I said. "But he's the shorter one of the two in that shop."

"It's enough," he said, leaving the Early Times bottle on the bar and putting the half-empty one of rotgut under the counter. "I know who he is."

I looked at him. "I could be lying," I said. "Or I could be wrong."

"No."

I waited. He shrugged. "You're trying to learn our language," he said.

"You don't treat us like animals. You're trying to help Tuyen's family and you didn't have to tell us about her; we would have found her sooner or later." He looked at me. "I think we can trust you about as much as we can trust any foreign devil." He gave me that small smile.

It wasn't much. I poured myself another shot and held it up. "What do I do now?" I asked. "Should I take it to the CO? Tell the MPs?"

He turned away and got out another Vietnamese beer for me. He placed it on the counter in front of me, popped the tab and threw it away. "Do nothing," he said. "Nothing."

"But. ..."

He poured me another shot. "Andi," he said gently. "They will be taken care of." He carefully moved the Early Times bottle nearer to my hand.

"Both of them."

I looked into his face, the face of Victor Charlie. The VC. The enemy.

Offering a chance of justice. A small hope, but more than I would get from the Army or the ARVNs. All it would cost me was keeping my mouth shut. And a little piece of my soul.

Cheap at the price, I thought. Something worthless for a little less evil in the world? No contest.

The Animals were still screaming, a different song, but I knew they had told me the truth earlier. Justice might be on the way, but it could be tomorrow or it could be six months. d.a.m.n few men ever know how close women are to violence, but the First Sergeant had gotten a hint that night. It was time to think about getting out of Vung Tau. "Let me know what happens," I said to Tan. "If I'm not here, tell Phil. He'll have my address, no matter where I am."

He nodded. "I will let you or Cherry know. No one else," he said.

I'd settle for that. I started serious work on the bottle. I only remember a few more things that night. The heat inside. Trying to dance with Hue, although I'm an awful dancer. Sitting on the bar next to Cherry, singing Countin' Geckos on the Wall in harmony. Someone trying to teach me and Phil some G.o.d-awful song which I refused to remember. Then blankness. Phil must have got me back somehow, because next morning I woke up in my hooch, my clothes still on.

I didn't bother to shower before I went to work. I had a new-enough haircut, anyway, even though I had that familiar run-over-by-a-chicken-truck feeling which lasted most of the day. I was able to spend the morning not thinking about work; it was just the usual stuff, cutting orders, filling out requisitions properly and so on. The First Sergeant was in and out; the CO stayed in his office. Normally, I left for lunch; sometimes I ate, but most times I headed back to my hooch to read. That day, when the CO left at noon and said he wouldn't be back, I took the opportunity to make a few phone calls. I typed up some forms and a set of orders for myself. I left them undated and slid them into my top drawer. Just for kicks, I checked Top's drawer. There was Tuyen's Buddha necklace and the package of heroin I'd seen him get from the barber last night.

I thought about checking the jeep, but there was no need. I knew what I'd find. A hole or a flap cut in the spare, big enough to shove a bag through. I thought it was over-cautious of Top, since no one would ever search his jeep. It also meant plenty of room; he could probably stuff ten or a dozen packets inside that tire.

The First Sergeant didn't make it back till nearly three. Stinking of alcohol, he slumped at his desk.

"I have a suggestion," I said. I began cleaning my nails with my knife.

He didn't try to act like he didn't know what I meant. "What?"

I opened my desk drawer and took out the request for transfer and handed it to him. He read it quickly.

"You don't want money?"

"All I want is away from you." And to see him die the way Tuyen had.

He stood up. "Maybe that's not all I want from you."

My knife was in my hand, open. "I think it better be."

"I'll see you in LBJ."

I shook my head. "No. If I'm in LBJ, you'll be dead." I shrugged.

"Maybe it'll be worth it." I was full of adrenaline and scared spitless. "I could find out and let you know." I gave him a grin, pulling up the smiles my mother taught me to use when you loathed someone but had to be polite.

For a second there, I thought he was going to try something. Instead, he signed the form. "Here," he said, shoving the papers across the desk.

"Thanks." I put the form with the orders. "You might want to mention to the CO that it would please you if he just signed these."

He glared and left. I watched him go, knowing it was better this way, but my hands still trembled as I folded my knife. Since I had his signature, I made one more phone call to a place called Cu Chi, taking care of the last details. Then I dug Tuyen's Buddha out of the booze drawer and hung it around my neck. Top would see it was gone in the morning. I thought about flus.h.i.+ng the heroin, but that might have pushed him over the edge.

I was through with the Sunset Grill, so that night, I went to the Violet Flower. I couldn't get Phil to go with me; he stayed in his hooch with a bottle and drank by himself while I borrowed his jeep. It wasn't like I thought it would be, not at all. I watched the working girls; none of them were Tuyen. Everyone let me alone but the bartender. I couldn't get drunk, but I tried.

Next morning, I saw the CO immediately. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. He looked tired. "Cu Chi isn't nearly as nice as Vung Tau." He looked down at my records. "I might be able to arrange a promotion if you stay."

I smiled at him, very sweetly. "Why, sir, that would be very nice. But it sounds like I'm needed in Cu Chi; I'd really like to go. Sir."

He signed; I was on a Huey to Tan Son Nhut airbase, near Saigon, before noon. I was picked up by a Spec 4 named Ritchie, who told me that Sgt.

Hutch was delighted to have a real clerk, finally. Hutch had sounded happy when I'd talked to him yesterday afternoon. Ritchie kept stealing glances at me on the ride back; I didn't care. I don't think I smiled my first two weeks there. I spent most of those nights crying myself to sleep. I was grateful there were no other women in the 369th Detachment; if there had been, I would have had to share my room.

One day Hutch sent me off to Long Binh Company HQ, with Ritchie as driver, to carry in dispatches, orders, requisitions and forms. We were supposed to go with just one weapon, an M16, because women weren't allowed guns in a combat zone. I complained to Hutch. "C'mon, sarge.

You expect Ritchie to protect me? You're kidding." I was a head taller than Ritchie; I had muscles, not pudge.

Hutch looked at me, his eyes wide as usual, giving him a slightly pop-eyed stare. He'd been watching me practice with the knife; once in a while, he'd try. He shook his head. "No, I don't. But I can't issue you a weapon." He shrugged. "If Ritchie wants to sign out two, though, I can't stop him." That was the way Hutch was; there was always a way.

I grabbed Ritchie and went to the weapons rack. I saw something on the wall and reached for it. "What's this?" I asked him.