The captain takes a large tarp and throws it over them so that no one can see he is carrying human cargo.
“It’s only until we get farther from shore and away from the patrols,” Chung whispers to B?o.
Beneath the tarp, huddled together, they struggle to breathe. Their heads are bowed to their knees, the smells of packed bodies and food is stifling. The small motor in the back of the boat putters softly as the captain begins to head into deeper waters, the shoreline fading into the distance.
Hours later, after the tarp has been removed and most of the passengers drift into sleep, the waves get bigger as they approach the mouth of the South China Sea. They will be awakened by the sensation of the boat rocking back and forth. Water slaps against the vessel’s wooden sides, some of it spilling over into the hull.
One of the women has positioned the wooden Virgin Mary at the front of the boat in an effort to create a powerful maidenhead she believes will bring them luck and steer them to safety. But the waves continue to intensify, and the others are panicking as they try to scoop the water out of the boat. The captain calls on her to return to the back.
“I’m going to throw it overboard,” the captain hollers to her, but she remains at the front, holding the statue as the wind whips through her hair and the water crashes at the bow.
“Sit down!” another man cries from the back.
Finally, one of the men stands up and hurtles toward her, rushing to remove the statue that he thinks is causing the boat to become unstable. But his own movements only increase the boat’s instability. As he reaches for the statue, the boat keels to the side.
Anh is cast starboard, pinned to the side between two men, while B?o, Linh, and Chung are thrown into the cold water. Chung, hearing his son’s screams for help, finds his own arms and legs instinctively thrashing and kicking as he searches the dark water to find him. He seizes B?o and drags him to the boat’s edge, focused solely on getting him to safety. The cold water is up to his chin.
But B?o continues to grip his arm.
“Let me go, I need to get your mother,” his father yells now at B?o.
But B?o refuses. The boy’s fingers dig into Chung’s slippery flesh.
“You have to let me go,” he pleads one more time to his son. He then bites B?o’s arm, like an animal determined to be freed.
Chung falls back into the water in search of Linh. The water swallowing both of them into the night.
PART II
CHAPTER 17Long Island, 1979
GRACE LEFT THE MOTHERHOUSE PROMISINGSISTERMARYAlice she would come at least twice a week to help tutor B?o and the other children with their reading. She could do that easily and also maintain her own household obligations. It was a chance for her to give back in a meaningful way. But she also knew that seeing the Sisters at work had awakened her own yearning to do more than the daily drudgery of cooking, cleaning, and driving.
She had stored many of Katie and Molly’s old picture books in the attic, and Grace knew if she made a few calls around the neighborhood, she’d be able to fill the whole Pontiac wagon with boxes of old books and toys.
That afternoon, she was eager to share the good news with the girls when they came home from school. But to her distress, Katie didn’t seem to have any interest at all in her mother’s new volunteer endeavors, and Molly seemed more concerned about how nuns could actually shelter men inside the motherhouse.
“They’re not sharing rooms with the nuns, sweetheart. All the families are living in a separate building.”
“Oh.” Molly seemed mildly disappointed.
“Can you do me a favor and go to the attic and bring down some of those boxes of your old picture books? You too, Katie.”
Katie was buried in the open refrigerator, pulling out snacks of Jell-O pudding. She didn’t bother responding to Grace.
Grace felt her chest tighten. No one had told her it would be this difficult to raise a teenage girl. Every day she wondered how Katie would act once she got home from school. Her moodiness was often unleashed on Grace. The little girl who used to rush off the elementary school bus into her mother’s arms had long since vanished, transformed into a sullen, sarcastic young woman. Grace missed the old Katie.
“I need you to help your sister with the books, Katherine. Those boxes will be heavy.”
Katie licked the chocolate off her spoon. “In a second, Mom. I need to relax. I just got home.”
“Fine, but once you’re done eating …”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Okay, but first I need to call Amy about history homework and Maggie about …”
Grace bit her lip. Her daughter had a thousand excuses ready just to avoid helping out. And Grace thought even one was too much.
Grace had not been prepared for a snarky teenager at home, a body that had grown soft in various places, and her own racing mind that often made it difficult for her to sleep.
