Up Country Part 37

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

I got to the veranda before Susan, found a table, and ordered a pot of coffee. got to the veranda before Susan, found a table, and ordered a pot of coffee.

It was another perfect day in Nha Trang.

Susan appeared, dressed in yet another pair of cotton pants, green, this time, with a white boat-neck pullover. That backpack must have been bigger than it looked.

I stood, pulled out her chair, and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning." She poured herself some coffee and said, "Last night I dreamt of you."

I didn't reply.

"We were in the Metropole in Hanoi. I've stayed there, so I could visualize it. It was very real." She laughed at me. "We had c.o.c.ktails, dinner, and danced in the hotel lounge."

I said, "Let's try to do that."

The waiter came by, and we ordered Breakfast Number One, pho.

She said, "I could turn this place into at least a two-star hotel for American servicemen who stayed here. The R&R Grand. Hooker Night in the Full Metal Jacket lounge. I'll make Lucy the hostess. What do you think?"

I didn't reply.

She said, "That was a little insensitive. Whatever you did to get here wasn't funny. I do apologize."

"Forget it." In fact, it wasn't funny, and I couldn't forget it. I said, "Battle of the A Shau Valley, May '68. You should look it up someday."

"I will. But I'd rather you tell me about it."

Again, I didn't reply.

The pho came, and I sipped it with my coffee spoon. I asked Susan, "What exactly is in this?"

She was sipping out of her bowl, and replied, "Well, it's the national dish. It's basically noodles, veggies, and broth seasoned with ginger and pepper. You can add a little uncooked chicken, or pork if you're rich. The hot broth cooks the meat and veggies." She added, "When in doubt about the sanitation, order pho because they have to get the water hot enough to cook the meat, so you know the water is sterilized."

"Good tip."

She said, "Hey, I make a mean pho. I'd love to cook it for you someday."

I said, "That would be nice. I make chili."

"Love chili. I miss chili."

We had another cup of coffee. I said to Susan, "I didn't see the snow globe on your night table."

She thought a moment, then said, "I didn't notice... I'll check when I get back to the room."

"You didn't move it?"

"No... the maids are usually trustworthy, if you put a few dong on the bed for them."

"Right. So, what's the plan for today?"

She said, "Well, I had the desk guy book us a boat, and we're going to explore the islands. I thought it would be nice for our last day together. Bring a bathing suit."

I paid for breakfast. Still two bucks.

We went up the stairs, and when I got to my room, I said to Susan, "Check for that snow globe."

I went into my room and put my swimsuit on under my last pair of clean khakis. I decided to go with my Ho Chi Minhs instead of my docksiders. As I was ready to leave the room, I noticed, on my nightstand, the snow globe.

This thing gets around.

I went down to the lobby, and a few minutes later, Susan appeared with her tote. She said, "I can't find the snow globe."

"That's okay. It's in my room."

"How did it get there?"

"Maybe the maid got confused. Let's go."

We went outside where a taxi was waiting for us. Susan said to the driver, "Cang Nha Trang."

The taxi drove out to the beach road and turned south. Susan said to me, "That's not possible."

"What?"

"How the snow globe got in your room."

"Well, the thing gets around." As we drove, I told her the story of the snow globe from Dulles Airport, to Colonel Mang's office at Tan Son Nhat, then to my room at the Rex.

She didn't say anything for a long time, then said, "That's... I can't believe that. Someone was in my room."

"Why do you find that hard to believe? Do you think you're in Lenox? It's a police state. You may have noticed." I added, "If we had phones, they'd be tapped. And there may be bugs in the rooms, and the boric acid won't help."

She stayed silent, then nodded. She asked me, "But what's the point of the snow globe?"

"I guess it's just Colonel Mang playing mind games. He should be keeping a low profile, so we don't think about things like bugs in the room. But he's amusing himself."

"That's a little sick."

"Maybe it's a slow week at the Ministry of Public Security."

The road followed the long, crescent-shaped beach, and we pa.s.sed the Nha Trang Sailing Club, then a few kilometers farther, there was a sprawling new resort of red tiled villas, whose sign said Ana Mandara. It looked as if it had been floated in from Hawaii.

A lot of money was pouring into this country, not only in Saigon, but also the hinterlands, from what I could see from the train, and here in Nha Trang.

As we got closer to the docks, I saw a cl.u.s.ter of nice old villas, set on three lush hills right on the beach. "Look at that."

Susan asked the driver about the villas, and she translated, "Those are the Bao Dai Villas, built by the last emperor of Vietnam and named after his humble self. It was his summer home. Then, it was used by the South Vietnamese presidents-Diem and Thieu. The driver says you can rent a room there, but a lot of Party officials use the place, and Westerners are not always welcome."

"Hey, I can party with the Party."

"Is that head injury bothering you today?"

We continued on the beach road toward the southern headland, which ended at a big squat hill. At the base of the hill was a picturesque village, and across the road, I could see boats around a long wharf that jutted out into the South China Sea.

We pulled up to the foot of the wharf, I paid the driver, and we got out. It wasn't much of a facility, and most of the boats looked like pleasure craft, if your idea of pleasure isn't too well defined. There were also a few fis.h.i.+ng boats, all painted a midnight blue with red trim, like all the fis.h.i.+ng boats I'd seen in Nha Trang. It must be a local custom, or the only paint available.

We walked onto the wharf where about twenty guys were offering to take us anywhere we wanted to go. How about the Potomac River?

Susan was looking for a particular guy, and she called out, "Captain Vu? Captain Vu?"

Amazingly, everyone there was named Captain Vu. We finally found the real Captain Vu, and he led us to his boat, which was not a pleasure craft, but actually one of the blue and red fis.h.i.+ng boats. It looked like a st.u.r.dy craft, about twenty-five feet long, with a low stern, a high bow, and a wide beam. Sort of like a cartoon tugboat. We all got aboard.

There was a small wheelhouse set amids.h.i.+p, made mostly of gla.s.s windows, and a fishnet hung along the port side of the boat.

Captain Vu spoke a little English and said, "Welcome on board man and lady."

The boat smelled a little fishy because it was a fis.h.i.+ng boat, and what else was fishy was why the desk clerk hadn't gotten us a pleasure boat. Obviously the clerk and Captain Vu were related, or in business together. I said to Susan, "This is a fis.h.i.+ng boat."

"Isn't it great? A real Nha Trang fis.h.i.+ng boat."

"Right." Some people need to experience everything. At my age, I try to experience as little as possible. Been there. Six times. Done that. Twelve times.

Captain Vu showed us a chest of ice, beer, water, and soft drinks. He said, "For you."

Captain Vu smoked and was delighted that Susan smoked, too, and they fired up a couple of Marlboros. The captain spread a nautical chart on the engine housing, and he and Susan looked over the chart and chatted for a while.

Susan turned to me and said, "We can probably visit four or five islands."

"Let's make it four."

"Okay. The last island I wanted to visit is called Pyramide-still has a French name. It also has a nude beach."

"Make that five islands."

"I figured." She spoke to Captain Vu, and he chuckled.

I suggested, "Make Pyramide the first island."

He understood this and laughed louder.

Anyway, a kid of about fourteen was on the wharf, and he helped us cast off, then jumped on board. The kid said he was named Minh, after the great leader, Ho Chi Minh. I showed the kid my sandals, and he approved.

Captain Vu went into the wheelhouse, and a minute later, the engine kicked over, coughed, and caught. Minh and I shoved off, and we were on our way.

There were two plastic chairs in the stern, and Susan and I sat. I looked in the cooler beside me and found a liter of bottled water, which we shared.

The sea was calm, and Captain Vu opened the throttle a little. We headed southeast, toward a small island.

Susan had the chart on her lap and said to me, "That island there is Hon Mieu-South Island. There's a fish farm there. Want to see it?"

"No. Where's Pyramide Island?"

"The next island is Hon Tam, then Hon Mot, then we'll go to Hon Cu Loa-Monkey Island, then the big mountain island of Hon Tre, which means Bamboo Island." She gave me the chart. "Take a look."

"Where's Pyramide Island?"

"It's on the map, Paul."

"It's called a chart. Where's that island?"

"North."

"Right. I see it." Of course, it was the farthest away. I folded the chart. Well, something to look forward to.

Our first port of call was Hon Tam, where there was a small resort. We rented two kayaks and paddled around awhile. We also had a beer at the resort and made a pit stop.

Then, on Hon Mot, we rented some snorkeling gear and spent an hour looking at brightly colored tropical fish and incredible coral reefs in crystal clear water. I also watched Susan Weber underwater, who had on another skimpy bathing suit, this one white.

Then on to Monkey Island, where these obnoxious monkeys hara.s.sed a lot of stupid tourists. One of them-the monkeys-tried to lift my wallet, and I thought I was back in Saigon. Another one, obviously an alpha male, hung by his toes from a branch and grabbed Susan's b.o.o.b. And he hadn't even bought her dinner.

These disgusting monkeys had absolutely no fear of people, and that was because no one had ever broken one of their necks. You only had to break one neck, and the others would get the message.

Anyway, we bid adieu to Monkey Island, and I insisted that we skip Bamboo Island because I didn't want to miss Pyramide Island, though I didn't say that. I said, "There's bubonic plague on Bamboo Island. Read about it this morning."

Ms. Weber didn't seem to believe me. She said something to Captain Vu, and he took a new heading.

I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Oh, I thought we'd call it a day. It's pus.h.i.+ng 3 P.M. P.M."

"What happened to Pyramide Island?"

"Oh... right. Do you still want to go there?"

"Yes. Now."

She smiled. "That's where we're headed. You're so basic."

Susan sat back in her chair and lit a cigarette. The wind was blowing through her long hair, and she looked very good. She said to me, "When I first met you, I had the initial impression you were a little repressed."