The Merit Birds by Kelley Powell Read Free Book Online

out of me. She worked away at the bitterness built up in my muscles. The rhythm of her movements and the calm music made me feel so relaxed. So this was Lao people’s secret to being chilled out all the time. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew she was rocking me awake. She smiled in a way that made me wonder if I had done something embarrassing while I was asleep. I rubbed my face to check for drool. She led me to some couches where Julia was sipping from a teacup. My brain was so blissed out it couldn’t think of any Lao words to thank her or ask her name.
    â€œSo? Did you enjoy it?” Julia pulled me out of my daze.
    â€œYeah, I did,” I said absent-mindedly, and looked around to see if the girl was still in the room. She was gone.

Falang
    Nok
    Nok hunched over the mortar and pestle, grinding healing herbs to use on clients. The smell of the crushed plants reminded her of when she’d had to go to the hospital with dengue fever when she was little. As her temperature shot into the cloudy sky of Vientiane’s rainy season, her big sister covered her forehead with cold cloths and brought her bowls of rice porridge. The feeling made her cozy, remembering how Vong had cared for her.
    Nok had refused to go to the doctor, because she understood even at a young age that they couldn’t afford the fee. But her headaches grew sharper, like glass smashing on a cement floor, and she crouched in a dark corner away from the brightness of the sun and the noise of the village. Vong insisted she see a doctor and convinced the head of their village to help her pay for the cost of the initial visit. She’d ended up lying listless for a week in the hospital. Vong did everything she could to pay for it; she sold spicy papaya salad at a roadside shop all day and worked the night shift at the garment factory sewing T-shirts with Western brand names. During her breaks she would come to the hospital to bring Nok some kanom and sweet, warm soy milk.
    Now Vong had been gone for three years already. Nok was thirteen when she left, Seng was seventeen. Old enough for a couple of orphans to take care of themselves. Nok was so happy for her sister when she said she was marrying a North American and moving away. All the way across the ocean, she said. Vong’s future was set. But Nok hungered for her like she did for their mother. Their family of five had been whittled down to two — just her and Seng.
    Her thoughts were broken by the front door of the massage house opening. She overheard a foreigner asking for her and her heart skipped. But it wasn’t the foreigner with the pale, mean eyes. He had been in her nightmares every night since the assault. Thankfully, it was the grumpy falang in the basketball shirt. The one who had fallen asleep. He was pointing her out to Nana. He seemed harmless enough, but why did he need her to massage him again? She didn’t trust white guys now.
    Nana looked at her imploringly. They needed the business. Not wanting her friend to lose face, Nok nodded that she would do it. She plunged her capable fingers deeply into the falang ’s flesh. She worked his long body — pounding the bottoms of his feet, manipulating the muscle of his calves, stretching out the tightness of his legs. With each pinch she released some of the resentment that coursed through her tendons. By the time she reached his face her bitterness had begun to fade. As she massaged his cheekbones she noticed the smattering of freckles across his fine nose. There was something sweet and exotic about them. Lao guys didn’t have freckles. When she finished, the foreigner sat up, blinked his eyes, and in bad Lao asked her name. She answered, and in order to be polite asked him his name.
    â€œDo you like doing that?” Cam asked.
    Nok thought for a moment. No one had ever asked her that before. She did think a lot about how life would be different if she could’ve gone to