A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2015 by the Author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 30
Return to Saigon 

I had mixed emotions about going back; emotions that I couldn’t sort out.  I decided they would sort themselves out when I got there. I was surprised that the A Shau Valley was still easily recognizable from the air. The first people I saw in the terminal were soldiers wearing pith helmets and carrying AK-47's. I really didn't know what to expect but everyone at the airport was friendly and helpful, other than the soldiers. There were no longer the sounds and smells of war, although there were still traces of the carnage that had taken place after the United States pulled out. Other than that, Saigon, now Ho Chi Minh City, wasn’t all that different from when I left.  I took a cab to the orphanage and asked for Sister Marie. A young nun took me to her. She was in the kitchen.

“Sister Marie, I am Brad Courter.” I wondered at that moment why I hadn’t sent pictures of myself so she would know me.

She threw up her hands then clasped them over her mouth to choke back her emotions.

“Mr. Courter, you are an angel from God!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, and I’m sure God wouldn’t agree either,” I said with a chuckle.

She was about to cry. I took her hands but she pulled them away and put her arms around me to hug me. I felt a bit embarrassed, being hugged by a nun.

“You were supposed to be notified by the Swiss embassy that the papers were in order and that I would be here,” I said.

“No one notified me,” she said.

“Well, then, we will need to go to the embassy.” I was looking all around for Jase.

“Jason isn’t here, he’s on an errand,” Sister Marie said.  “He will be back soon.”

“How is he? How has he been? I mean, you were afraid the street would swallow him up,” I said.

“It was a struggle but he is fine. He’s a good boy. You have saved him from the streets, I believe.”

“I saved him? I think that credit has to go to you, Sister,” I said.

“No, I was losing him.  It was when he received your note that you were sending for him that he began to turn around. Then your letters that followed. I warned him that you, a good friend of his father’s, would expect more from him.” 

“Did he get in a lot of trouble?” I asked.

“I can’t say what trouble he got into, only that he was becoming less and less satisfied to stay with us.”

“I wonder why,” I said.

“He was growing up, becoming curious about the ways of the world,” she said.

“Could you show me around, Sister?” I asked.

“Certainly.  You should see how your monthly offerings have been spent.”

“I had no qualms about how it would be spent,” I said.  “And it will continue, even after I take young Jason home with me.”

“Bless you, son.”

“No, the blessings are upon you, Sister, for all your work here. Have you had any luck placing any other children?”

“Some. Not nearly enough. There are not many American soldiers who are willing to face the consequences of their actions when they were here. Too many of the children are already lost to the world. I see them on the streets now and then, the ones who left us, and they are ashamed to look at me.”

She showed me around the kitchen first then took me through the two dormitories, the larger one for the younger boys and a smaller one for the older ones. 

“You have no girls here,” I asked.

“No. The girls are.…they were taken from us right after the fall of the city.  I can’t bear to think of their fate. Some fled to the countryside.  Most were forced into prostitution; girls for the soldiers.”

She showed me through the tiny chapel, and a sparsely-equipped playground. I made a mental note to do something about some playground equipment before I left, and I thought I might donate something for the chapel in Jason’s memory.

“Where has young Jason gone?” I asked. Calling him young Jason made me realize how difficult it was going to be.

“You are anxious to meet him,” she said, smiling.  “He’s gone to the market.”

“Is the market still in the old square?” I asked.

“Yes. You know it?”

“Yes.  I will go meet him,” I said.

“How will you know him?” she asked.

“I’ll find him,” I said, thinking to myself that if he was Jason’s son, I could pick him out of a crowd.  I walked along the dusty streets with the hot sun beating down, my baseball cap blocking it from my eyes. I was nervous, even a little apprehensive, and the closer I got to the market, my heart took on a new rhythm. The market was unchanged, probably for hundreds of years. Except at one tiny booth I saw flat, shallow boxes of things American and military, like clocks and other instruments taken from U.S. helicopters and other equipment, and other bric-a-brac, all no doubt abandoned by the Americans. But the market thrived, selling memorabilia of both sides.

 I scanned the boys and young men walking through the market, knowing instantly that none of them could be him. I walked through it twice but didn’t find him. Perhaps he had taken another route back, or had gone off to find some mischief. I walked back to the orphanage to see if he had arrived.

Sister Marie shook her head. “Well, he’s off on one of his little wanderings,” she said with some disdain.

“Does he wander off often?” I asked.

“He is his own boy,” she said, with some helplessness in her tone. “He is restless. But he will return in time for supper. He does always come back; we just don’t know where he disappears to.”

“Don’t you ever ask him?”

“Have you ever tried to open a clam?” she said.

I looked at my watch.  “Well, there’s probably not enough time to go to the Swiss Embassy today. I think I’ll go for a walk; there are places I want to see again. Maybe I’ll run into him.”

“You will return for supper,” she said.

“If I don’t, please don’t wait,” I said. “I have a lot to see.”

“Yes, I understand.  You will return to stay the night, won’t you? We can make up an extra bed in the dorm.”

“No, Sister, let me find a place,” I said with a glow of hope in my heart.

“The city is not the same as when you left it,” she said by way of a warning.

“Yes, I’m sure. But the market was the same,” I said.

To be continued...  

Posted: 02/27/15 rp