Loaded Hearts First 60 Pages

The passengers began to fidget. Trying to judge the right moment to run up onto the muddy river mouth, the boatman gestured for everyone to stay calm while he scanned the opening to the sea.
The boat slid out of the green water. They felt the bump as it came to rest on the estuary sand. Everyone picked up their bags. Mai’s mother carried a bundle fashioned from a sarong, containing a change of clothes, bread, dried noodles, a plastic container of fresh water. Tam’s belongings were pushed into a pair of trousers knotted at the feet. Each leg held bags of water, knobs of taro, coconuts and more noodles. The passengers scrambled ashore and trudged across the beach to men who waited to ferry them through the surf. When Mai looked back, the boat’s black eyes had disappeared into the night; there was no sign that they had ever ridden the river.

A well-dressed man stood by the first basket boat to collect each passenger’s parcel of gold sticks. Mai’s mother placed her plastic bag into his manicured hands; he counted and nodded but did not speak. The family walked to the edge of the waves, the mother’s footsteps growing slower and slower.
“Come on, Ma, hurry up.”
Their mother stopped. “I have something to tell you. Mai Thi, you’re fourteen, almost a grown woman. Tam, even though you’re two years younger, you must be the man of the family now. Look after your sister.”
They both spoke at once. “Ma? What’s wrong? What do you mean?”
Their mother began to cry. “I’m not coming with you.”
“What?” Open-mouthed, Mai dropped her sarong-bag onto the sand still hot from the afternoon sun.
“It’s better,” Mai’s mother sobbed. She turned to Tam. “I must stay for when your father comes home from the camp.” Tears ran down her cheeks. Tam said nothing, only shifted the knotted trouser-bag over his shoulder.
Did he understand? Mai pushed at him and began to beat on his thin chest. “Tell her, Tam. She has to come.” Tam only looked down and drew a pattern in the sand with his big toe. Mai threw her arms around her mother and clung to her.