“Buck up, Frangipani.” said Grandma Gerd. “I'll be back before you know it. Shouldn't take more than a couple days down the mountain. And once we're back in Luang Prabang, I'm sure we can hire that helicopter to drop us back on the mountain so we won't have to make the climb a second time. Isn't that right, Bounmy?”
He stared at her balefully. “Very dangerous to flyâ”
Grandma Gerd hurriedly cut him off. “See this as an opportunity to gather more material for your novel. Why don't you start with the smells of opium and hashish.”
“It's not funny.”
“I'm not trying to be.” Her voice cracked.
It dawned on me she was masking fear. She was putting on this jovial buck-up act so that I'd forget to be scared. But the normally invincible Grandma Gerd herself was
scared stiff.
I threw my arms around her. She bear-hugged me back. Then reluctantly released me and hoisted her daypack over her shoulders. I grabbed her arm.
“You can't go before telling me The Big Secret!”
“Why don't we wait untilâ”
“You've made me wait long enough and you know it,” I said. “And it would make my
imprisonment
a whole lot easier.”
But we both knew these were just words. The subtext
was:
You'd better tell me now because you may never see me again.
She put down her daypack. And I removed the letters from the front pocket of mine.
Bounmy moaned impatiently at the hut door. Grandma Gerd ignored him.
“Frangi, sit down. Or at least squat ⦔ She gently pushed me onto one of the carved wooden squat stools.
“A-D-O-P- T-E-D,” I said as I placed each letter in the dirt.
“Good work,” she said.
I cleared my throat. “I know Dad was adopted, but how does that apply to The Big Secret? The blackmail?”
She placed both hands on my shoulders, squeezing them so tightly, her silver rings dug into my flesh.
“Vassar Frangipani Spore:
You're
adopted.”
Who Am I???
G
randma Gerd gently shook my shoulders. “Frangi? Did you hear what I said?”
I blinked rapidly.
“It shouldn't come as that much of a shock,” she continued. “You look nothing like either Leonardo or Althea. And you were a head taller than both of them at fourteen.”
“But ⦠not all children resemble their parents.”
“True. But hasn't it hit you whom you resemble most?”
Wait.
It couldn't be.
“Not ⦔
“Excuse me, madam, we must go.” Bounmy's strained voice seemed miles away.
“You?”
Grandma Gerd got up.
“But, wait! You can't go yet! How, when, whyâ”
Grandma Gerd is my birth mother!? How could I not have seen it? Both five feet ten, lanky limbed, with bad vision. Did Grandma have dark hair before she went prematurely grey? And that photo in her Everything Book of
her wearing a pouffy A-line dressâit wasn't pouffy: She was pregnant with me!
My brain somersaulted around in my skull. My dad was no longer my dadâhe was my
half brother
! But then again, he was also adopted, so what did that make us? My whole world had turned out to be a fabrication, a sham, an illusion!
“Dad's whole silverware triangle analogy was completely bogus!”
The hut and its occupants receded into the background. Grandma Gerd and I were the only two people in the entire world at that precise moment.
The right side of my brain said:
How exciting! Now you can conduct studies on nature versus nurture!
The left side of my brain said:
Uh-oh. What if I turn into Grandma Gerd!?
I had to block both sides. I simply couldn't bear to think about it anymore. Blackness oozed around me. I quickly put my head between my knees.
“Madam! Please! Must go NOW!”
“In a minute, Bounmy,” Grandma replied.
He groaned and wilted against the door frame.
“Then, who ⦠who's my real father?” I asked in a muffled voice.
“You were conceived during my first visit to Malaysia. At a beach resort on Tioman Island. With a man I'd just met.”
A sinking sensation in my stomach. A ringing in my ears. “Who was he?”
A sheepish look crossed Grandma Gerd's face.
“I don't know.”
“What do you mean you don't know!?!”
“I was lonely, it was dark, and the gin and tonics were doing the thinking for me.”
I was physically incapable of responding.
“Bounmy in much, much trouble!” moaned Bounmy, crushing his now empty Lotus cigarette pack.
“Hey, I'm not proud of my actions, but I am proud of the result.” Again, she squeezed my shoulders. “Did you know Tioman Island is where they filmed
South Pacific
? But instead of washing the man right out of my hair ⦔
I remained motionless.
“It was all very escapist. His wife had just left him for a bass player, and I was still the grieving widowâafter all those years. I woke up seven hours later, alone on the sand. Very ashamed and very sunburned. I never saw him again. Three months after that I was in Malta whereâsurprise! The rabbit died.”
“Rabbit died?”
“You know”âshe gestured toward her stomachâ“pregnant.”
The complete and utter mess of it all!
“Believe me: After that, I gave up recreational drinkingâother than the occasional glass of wine. Which lately I don't seem to have a taste for, thanks to your Foreign Food Sanitation Spray.”
“So you can't tell me anything about ⦠my real father?”
She tilted my face toward her. “I can tell you he had eyes the color of a Hershey bar. And a couple of those.” She
pointed to my cowlick. “And that.” She pointed to my chin dimple. “He loved discordant jazz. Oh, and he was Thai.”
“What?!”
“He was Thaiâas in Thailand.”
“Are you positive? But ⦠but ⦠I don't look ⦠Asian.”
Was that me speaking? So calm and collected?
“That's not uncommon for a Eurasian.”
Eurasian!?
Back went my head between my knees.
“Please, madam, I beg you!” Bounmy fidgeted in the doorway, almost in tears, his mouth twitching away.
“All right, Bounmy. I'm coming.” She walked toward the door.
I unsteadily stood up. My legs seemed to be made of Silly Putty.
The right side of my brain said:
This proves life has infinite possibilities. It's not cut and dried and inevitable. There's a part of you that's an unknown variable. A mystery.
The left side of my brain said:
Danger! Alert! Chaos! Out of control! Messy! Unplanned!
Bounmy handed me some line-dried beef jerky and sticky rice wrapped in a banana leaf. Then he gently pulled Grandma Gerd into the doorway.
“I can't believe this ⦠I'm still so ⦠shocked ⦠so ⦔
“We'll talk more about it later, Frangi, don't you worry.” She smoothed my hairâthen pulled something out of it. “Saving this for later?”
It was a piece of sticky rice.
“Can't let your grooming go to pot just because you're a hostage. What would Althea say?” She tried to play it light, but her voice wavered. “Now don't forget toâ”
“LIM,” I finished weakly. My mind was still attempting to process it all. Then Grandmaâ
my mother!?
âhugged me tightly until Bounmy pried her off me and propelled her out the door.
As they disappeared around the corner of the hut, Bounmy's strained voice wafted through the air: “You exonerate Bounmy? You shall explain to my boss? And exonerate Bounmy?”
Ly firmly closed the bamboo door, slid the wood barricade in place, and gave me a look that said, “Don't even think about it.”
And then, for the very first time in my life, I was â¦
alone
.
???
I
'm adopted!?!
I'm Eurasian!?!
I'm a hostage!?!
I Wait
P
art of me appreciated the time alone to process. And being held hostage afforded a whole lot of quality-processing time. My life preâSoutheast Asia had been neat and organized. Everything in its proper place. Straightforward. All planned out.
And now. And now ⦠it was as if someone had removed my glasses and I couldn't see one step in front of me. Speaking of seeing:
Very carefully and using as little water as possible, I put in my lone contact lens.
Stick Girl squatted near me, carefully counting and recounting her sticksâa puzzled look on her face. After a few times through, she turned and glared at me suspiciously.
“I didn't take it, but I know who did,” I said, giving her a big smile.
But she just glowered even more at the sound of my voice.
The lackluster women of the hut all went about their chores, ignoring me. I could have been one of their wooden stools for all the attention they paid me. The morning opium
customers filed in. They were mildly curious to see a soiled American girl sitting on a mat in the corner, but soon forgot me in their hazy reveries.
I opened my notebook. Perhaps writing it all up as a chapter would help me process. But my right hand remained motionless. So Mom and Dad had kept The Big Secret from me for
sixteen
yearsâand had kept Grandma Gerd away as well. What did I think about this? How did I feel? Overwhelmedâyes. Confusedâyes. Numbâyes. Betrayed? That seemed too harsh. They all had probably kept the secret for “my own good.”
And what would Denise, Amber, and Laurel make of it all? And here I'd thought getting my first kiss was big news!
I closed the notebook, too fatigued to ponder any longer, and gestured that I needed to use the bathroom. Ly opened the hut door but assigned Stick Girl and Scraped-Face Boy to tail me. They squatted on their haunches inches away from me as I urinated, their unblinking owl-like eyes watching my every move.
After I finished, I surveyed the village. The same gregarious children Grandma Gerd had sketched the night before now stared at me reproachfully. Why? For spoiling their fun? Obviously the news of my “disrespect” had spread. Even the friendly mothers kept their distance and didn't return my smiles.
Now I knew how Hester felt. All I needed was a scarlet “D” on my shirt.
From the Big P to the Big Dâall in less than two months.
There had been joy in Vang's village. But in this one: oppression. Addiction.
Fear.
I strolled a little way up the hill to stretch my legs, but Stick Girl followed me, poking me in the leg with one of her sticks until I turned back around.
Around six o'clock, Mrs. Ly and her fellow zombies prepared rice, vegetables, and mystery meat. But they didn't even offer me any. How inhumane! Especially since I'd eaten all my jerky and sticky rice for lunch.
As I sat on my mat in the corner, I scarfed down two oatmeal cookies, a handful of raw cashews, and a Crunky bar. Mr. and Mrs. Ly had commandeered their bamboo platform. Everyone continued to ignore me except Stick Girl, who kept trying to unzip my daypack. I finally had to lock it. She growledâthen immediately started stabbing the lock with one of her sticks. No one even noticed.
That night I once again stuffed all my clothes in and around my freezing body and was grateful for Grandma Gerd's additional blanket. Just as I was lying downâyes, with my feet facing the
right
directionâsurly Mr. Ly gestured for me to pick up my mat, daypack, and blankets. I slowly got to my feet and followed him. What exactly did he have in mind? My senses intensified.
If he tries anything, go for the eyes and the groin.
Mom had once instructed me exactly how to position my thumbs and apply pressure in order to pop the eyeballs out. I subtly removed the Maglite from my backpack and gripped it in my right hand. It wasn't much, but at least it was metal.
He led me into the enclosed room where the children had slept. But they were all now sleeping in the main roomâexcept for Stick Girl. He motioned for me to sleep on the dirt floor. Then he backed out and closed the doorâand secured it from the outside with a bamboo pole. Stick Girl and I were penned in for the night.
The moon shone through the cracks in the bamboo strips and highlighted her suspicious face. She lay on her bamboo mat, still clutching the bundle of sticks, completely motionless except for her eyeballs following me around the room.
Soon I could hear the deep breathing and snoring of the family in the main roomâthe walls of the room obviously more for show than privacy.
I switched on my Maglite, and the narrow beam of light fell on the bamboo-slated wall closest to me. I squelched my scream just in time. Thick white webs covered the wall, dotted with the wrapped bodies of dead insectsâguarded by furry black spiders the size of bagels! Not only that, three cockroaches the length and size of chalkboard erasers clung to the parts of the bamboo not covered with web.
ICK! Ickity ickity ick ick! Don't think about it, don't think about it.
I moved as far away from the wall as possible without invading Stick Girl's space. The creatures didn't seem to faze herâmaybe they stayed where they were. I gingerly removed my lone contact lens. Then I rummaged in my daypack for a piece of sugarless gum since I was too tired to brush my teeth and needed to conserve water. Instead, my
hand closed on the Polaroid that Grandma Gerd had taken of Hanks and me at the Siem Reap café.
Hanks.
Flip-flop.
Just wait till Hanks finds out I'm Eurasian.
What irony, my first real boyfriend being Asian. Talk about foreshadowing!
Are you somehow supposed to feel different, once you discover your genetic makeup is not what you thought it was? Does it really make any difference if you weren't raised in that culture? And while we're at it, just what about nature versus nurture?
I,Vassar Spore, am a science experiment.