This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Milholland – All rights reserved. Other than for private, not-for-profit use, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any form or by any means, other than that intended by the author, without written permission from the copyright holder.


Careful! This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex between males and critiques of religion and governments. And last but not least, Nifty would like your donations.

 

Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

questions and comments are welcome. www.milholland.eu / dennis@milholland.eu


Chapter 105 (Sunday, July 30, 1967)

The buzz being created by the elephants and the two boys, seemed to go into overdrive, as soon as about ten of the neighborhood kids appeared. The children approached Bu and Hao, not knowing how to behave, until one of them asked another, if the two dark strangers could communicate with them.

Upon hearing the French, Bu clicked his tongue. “You do know that it is very impolite to talk about people in their presence."

Not only was the ice broken with the neighbor kids, Yvette looked pleasantly surprised. Wade, Urs and Jules nodded their approval. The Montagnard factotum actually applauded, since he hadn’t been sure that he could communicate with them in M'nong. Apparently he’d said something and got no response from either Bu or Hao, the latter of whom was still around Gerry’s neck, next to the Montagnard gentleman.

Yvette, walked over to Hao, “What are your names, Angel?"

My brother is Bu and I’m Hao.” Both Yvette and Wade broke into heart-felt laughter. Hao played it for what it was worth. “He’s the bad boy, and I'm the good guy.”

Of course, Gerry wanted to know what they'd found funny. Yvette came to the rescue. "Their names are Chinese. His brother is called 'not', and this one's called 'good'."

Gerry, who’d grown up with Morton as his best friend, was acutely aware of what mind games people played on ethnic minorities. “Who did that to you?” He then asked Yvette to translate it. “We can give you new names, if you like.”

Would you call me Gerry, like you?” Yvette had to wipe a tear from her eye, as she translated. Gerry couldn't contain the tears, and his eight-year-old adult son comforted him.

***

Jules had turned the family room into a chapel, with a low table, a couple of candles and the emergency last-rights box, never used by his parents. Apparently, every Catholic priest was required to say mass every day.

And also apparently, Jules had just saved Père Martin from big trouble with his deity. The old priest was also able to round up Yvette and Urs as parishioners, since the twins had been carried off to bathe.

Fortunately, Gerry had insisted on taking the twins up to our bathroom and cleaning them up, during mass. While mass and bathing were in progress, Linh returned from his rounds to the market for dinner. He dropped his shopping net and fell into my arms. After the emotions settled, he chuckled: “Do you know anything about the elephants out back? They seem to be a big hit with the neighborhood kids. The Montagnard is charging a Dong per round, and they’re using the banyan tree as a ladder.” I wondered where Uncle was stashing the coins in his loincloth.

Hm,” I started unpacking the net. “the Montagnard is the uncle of our sons, Bu and Hao." I let him recover from the shock.

Where are they, now?” Linh glanced around the kitchen and dining area.

Jules and Gerry have them in the bath.” And before I could end the sentence, Linh was bounding up the stairs. I took off in hot pursuit.

We heard giggles and a squeaking coming from the bath. The twins had a large, yellow, rubber duck amongst the bubbles. Gerry and Jules were almost as wet as the twins. “Look what Uncle Jules gave us.” Bu held up the duck.

It belonged to my sister.” Jules said matter-of-factly. Then it dawned on me that his little sister had been the twins’ age, when she’d been killed.

I went to our shared suitcase and retrieved the instamatic, which we'd purchased together at the Dix PX to document our graduation from basic training. Everybody moaned at the first flash. Then everyone wanted to be photographed with the twins, at least once. I was happy that our loveable little orphans were having such a healing effect on everyone. Père Martin had been right. this had absolutely been the right thing to do.

***

I turned over the twins’ trousers, shirts, and loincloths to Linh to see if he could steam away part of the elephant smell from the trousers and shirts and wash the loincloths. He agreed and hurried down to the kitchen. Gerry and Uncle Jules rinsed off the boys and I clicked the last two of the twenty four photos, wondering if I could get them processed on the 'economy', as the Army referred to the non-military world. I had no intention of ever going near a PX, Commissary or any other military installation, ever again. 'Why bother,’ I chuckled to myself. 'since you can get any American product on the black market.'

What’s funny?” Gerry was looking at me bemused.

First, I wondered if we could get Kodak Instamatic film cassettes developed on the economy.” I told him truthfully, then another thought hit me broadside. "And it also contains the only pictures we have of Alvin Moffett." This, of course, led to the thought of Dave, whom I'd watch burn alive. I lost it, sinking the length of the wall to the cold marble floor of the bathroom.

Still naked, Bu and Hao were on me at once, comforting me. “You are thinking about your friend burning?”

Jules asked quietly. “Which friend?”

Hao clinically retold the story of the helicopter crash, as accurately and without emotion as any reporter, while Bu brought Gerry in, to cuddle me and took off, to return with a whisky glass full of Dubonnet, walking carefully as not to spill any.

Jules was giving Gerry a rundown of what Bu had recounted, and I had to smile at Hao's earnest concentration and thanked him for the drink. I downed the red liquid without ice. “How did you know, what to get?” I coughed.

Red is the color of good luck, isn't it?.” was his simple answer, again one of which Père Martin would not have approved.

***

Gerry helped me off the floor and into our bedroom. I waited for everybody to clear out and stripped off my clothes, piling them under the open window on top of Jules' motorcycle jacket to let them air out. "Do you want your passport back, just in case I get shot down again?"

He shook his head. “Naw, it’s safe enough with you.” His voice lost its texture. “Did you get shot down?” Gerry’s skin lost its color.

Don’t know.” I threw my passport pouch onto the stack of clothes. “The twins took me back up to the crash site, and I thought I heard an investigator say, ‘static spark’. But you never really know. But I didn’t hear any gunfire or artillery shell.” I walked over to Gerry, who started pointing toward the bath.

I don’t mind if the smell is several days of you.” He chuckled. “It’s you, I love. Not Suzanne.”

Gerry stripped and followed me into the bath. “Did you take your anti-malaria pill?" Gerry nodded. "I haven't taken mine yet, so my bowels aren't loose. You do me.”

My Gerry picked up the rubber duck out of the tub and placed it with a squeak onto the window sill, as I got in. He turned on the hand-held shower, waited for the water to get warm and got me wet. He turned off the water to soap me up. “Did you love him?”

Here was the question, that I didn’t want to hear. But out of my love for Gerry, I couldn’t lie. “Infatuated, maybe. Sort of what I feel for Gordon. Or maybe it just seems like it, now, since he's dead.”

If he hadn’t died, would you have left me for him?” Gerry sounded sad. And when I wiped the suds out of my eyes, I could tell that he looked close to tears.

I grabbed him and pulled him as close to me as I could get him. “Never, mein Schatz.” I brought him down on top of me. "On that dingy cinder path at Fort Dix, I promised to love, honor and protect you, not to give you proprietary rights to my dick with respect to docking.”

Docking?” Gerry's grin went mischievous. “What's docking?”

I scooted down a little, retracted my skin then his. I rolled his longer skin over my dick's head and now covered our heads with mine. When I started working our foreskins, neither of us lasted more than ten strokes.

He grinned at me. “Wow, where did you learn to do that?” Gerry wanted to know.

At some point during my untimely youth, spent in Greenwich Village.” I chuckled as he hosed down our dicks with the hand-held shower.

They certainly didn’t teach us anything like that on the Upper East Side.” my Gerry snickered.

That’s because they generally don’t have foreskins in that part of town.”

***

We were landing in Grandma’s rice field. It was drizzling. I waved at Bu and Hao, who were standing on the muddy road; they waved back. David, the door gunner, turned to smile at me. His grin turned to a pained grimace, as his face morphed into Sean’s. I felt guilty that Sean was in this doomed helicopter. He didn’t deserve to be blown up twice.

Next to me on the bench, was Special-Forces Captain Duvet, whom I’d apparently already shot, since the back of his head was missing, and pieces of skull were hanging by strips of brain. He was yelling orders at the pilots between snorts of cocaine, as if this were part of some macabre monster film. Then Captain Duvet morphed into Porky Pig, stuttering: ‘That’s all Folks.’, as the helicopter exploded.

I awoke with a start, my feelings, a mix somewhere between horror and humor. I was laughing aloud, which woke my naked Gerry, who’d been cuddled up to me, napping in the late afternoon.

The instant Gerry asked me if I was alright and snuggled closer, the door to our room flew open; the twins bounded in and jumped us on the bed. Bu was on me and Hao on Gerry. One of the twins. probably Bu, reached down and drew the sheet up over us, and we drifted back into a mellow sleep.

***

Jules came to wake us for dinner. He’d brought along Linh with the trousers and shirts, freshly steamed and ironed. Somehow, I didn’t think that the smells would ever really come out of the material, sort of like the smell of rattlesnake venom in Gerry’s field jacket. So, I informed Linh that we’d have to go shopping tomorrow for a new wardrobe. Everybody’s face lit up at the prospect of spoiling them..

The boys didn’t seem to be terribly enthused. “Does that mean that we’ll have to wear shoes?”

Not having understood, what he’d asked, Gerry gave me a puzzled look but nodded, meaning to go ahead and answer the question. I smiled. “Not if you don’t want to. How about sandals?”

By this time, Yvette, Wade, and Urs were also standing in our room. “Sandals?” Yvette politely questioned my judgment in English, I imagined so that the twins wouldn’t feel rebuked, since wearing shoes was a status symbol amongst the Saigonese bourgeoisie, to which she well knew, the boys would never belong.

What’s wrong with sandals?” I gave her my sarcastic glance. “Used to wear them all the time.”

Gerry kissed my cheek. “That’s my Greenwich-Village beatnik.”