Up Country Part 30

He looked at my visa again and said, "This is dated ten days ago."

"Right. Last-minute decision."

"Americans usually plan for months in advance."

Obviously, this is what first caught the eye of the guy at the Pa.s.sport Control booth. I owed Karl a kick in the nuts. I said, "I'm retired. I just go where I want, when I want."

"Yes? And yet your pa.s.sport was issued several years ago, and there are no visa stamps or entry and exit stamps on the pages."

"I travel in the United States and Canada."

"I see. So this is your first overseas trip?"

"Since that pa.s.sport was issued."

"Ah."

Colonel Mang gave me one of those looks that suggested he was somewhat confused by an inconsistency in my responses. He changed the subject and asked me, "Are you married?"

I replied, "That is a personal question, Colonel Mang."

"There are no personal questions."

"There are, where I come from."

"Yes? And you can refuse to answer the question of a policeman?"

"That's right."

"And what happens to you when you refuse to answer?"

"Nothing."

He said to me, "I have heard this, but I do not believe it."

I replied, "Well, go to the U.S. and get yourself arrested."

He didn't think that was funny. He played around with the papers on his desk, and I didn't see my pa.s.sport. "You have seen many prost.i.tutes in Ho Chi Minh City. Correct?"

"I may have."

"They service the foreigners. Vietnamese men do not go to prost.i.tutes. Prost.i.tution is not legal in Vietnam. You have seen karaoke bars and ma.s.sage parlors. You have seen drugs for sale, and you have seen a great deal of Western-influenced decadence in Ho Chi Minh City. You are thinking that the police have lost control, that the revolution has been corrupted. Correct?"

"Correct."

He informed me, "There are two cities that occupy the same time and s.p.a.ce. Saigon and Ho Chi Minh City. We let Saigon exist because it is useful for the moment. But one day, Saigon will no longer exist."

"I think, Colonel Mang, the foreign capitalists may disagree with you."

"They may. But they, too, are here only as long as we want them here. When the time comes, we will shake them off, the way a dog shakes off his fleas."

"Don't be so sure of that."

He didn't like that at all and stared at me a long time. He changed the subject and said, "As you travel, Mr. Brenner, you can see the destruction your military caused, which is still not repaired."

I said, "I think both sides caused the destruction. It's called war."

"Do not lecture me, Mr. Brenner."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Colonel Mang. I know what war looks like."

He ignored that and continued his lecture. "Now you will see a country at peace, ruled for the first time in a hundred years by the Vietnamese people."

Poor Colonel Mang. He was a real patriot, and he was trying to come to grips with the guys in Hanoi who were selling the country to Coca-Cola, Sony, and Credit Lyonnaise. This must really be a bitter pill to swallow for this old soldier who gave his youth and his family for a cause. Like most soldiers, myself included, he didn't understand how the politicians could give away what had been bought in blood. I almost felt some empathy with the guy, and I wanted to tell him, "Hey, buddy, we all got screwed-you, me, and the dead guys we know, we all got the shaft. But get over it. The new world order has arrived." Instead, I said to him, "I'm very much looking forward to seeing the new Vietnam."

"Yes? And when you visit your old battlefields, what will you feel?"

I replied, "I was a cook. But if I was a combat soldier, I have no idea what I'd feel until I stood on the battlefield."

He nodded. After a few seconds, he said to me, "When you arrive in Hanoi, you will again report to the Immigration Police."

"Why? I'm leaving the next day."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

I leaned toward Colonel Mang and said, "My first stop in Hanoi will be the American emba.s.sy."

"Yes? And for what purpose?"

"I'll leave that for you to figure out."

Colonel Mang thought about that and said to me, "Did you contact your consulate here?"

I replied, "Through my acquaintance here, I registered my presence in Ho Chi Minh City, my problem at the airport, my pa.s.sport being taken, and my arrival date in Hanoi." I added, "My acquaintance here will or has already contacted the American emba.s.sy in Hanoi."

Colonel Mang did not reply.

I liked the subject of the American emba.s.sy, so I said, "I think it's a very good thing that Washington and Hanoi have established diplomatic relations."

"Do you? I do not."

"Well, I do. It's time to bury the past."

"We have not even buried all the dead yet, Mr. Brenner."

I wanted to tell him I knew about the Communists bulldozing the cemeteries of the South Vietnamese military, but I was already a pain in his a.s.s. I said, "If America had no diplomats here, who could I complain to about your behavior?"

He actually smiled, then informed me, "I liked it much better the way it was after 1975."

"I'm sure you did. But it's a new world, and a new year."

He ignored this and asked me, "Did you give your acquaintance, Mr. Stanley, your travel itinerary?"

"I did."

He smiled. "Good. So if you met with a misadventure along the way, and if no one hears from you in Nha Trang or Hue or at the Metropole in Hanoi, your emba.s.sy and the police can join in making inquiries."

I said, "I don't intend to meet with any misadventures, but if I do, my emba.s.sy will know where to make the first inquiry."

Colonel Mang seemed to enjoy exchanging subtle threats and counter-threats. I think he appreciated me on one level. Also, by this time, he was starting to suspect that he and I were in a similar business. And I was fairly sure that Colonel Mang was several steps up from an Immigration police officer; he'd borrowed this ratty office in Section C, full of backpackers and condom posters. Colonel Mang's real home was in Section A or maybe B. Section C put the suspect at ease and off his guard. And regarding my notifying the emba.s.sy, or Karl, they weren't as concerned about the Immigration Police as they would have been about the Security Police or the National Police.

Also, I thought, there was some irony and symmetry at work here-I wasn't a former cook or a tourist, and Colonel Mang was not an Immigration cop. And neither of us was going to get nominated for Best Actor Award.

I said, "Colonel, I need to get back to the Rex Hotel, or I might miss my transportation. Thank you for your time and advice."

He pretended he didn't hear me and looked at my hotel bill. He said, "A very expensive dinner. Did you dine alone?"

"I did not."

He didn't ask any further questions and didn't ask for money. He took a piece of cheap paper and wrote something on it, then took a rubber stamp off the desk, and pressed it onto the paper. Colonel Mang said, "You will show this to the Immigration Police wherever you report to them." He handed me the stamped paper, my hotel bill, my pa.s.sport, visa, and another square of paper with a C on it, though this one was yellow. "You will take this pa.s.s directly to the desk where you entered the building and give it to the man there." He smiled and added, "Do not lose your pa.s.s, Mr. Brenner, or you will never get out of this building."

Colonel Mang had a little sense of humor; warped, but at least he was trying. I stood and said, "I had an interesting visit, but I don't want to overstay my welcome."

He ignored this and informed me, "If you deviate from your itinerary, notify the closest Immigration Police. Good day."

I said to him, "And thank you for returning my souvenir to my room."

"That is all, Mr. Brenner."

I couldn't resist and said, "Chuc Mung Nam Moi."

"Leave, before I change my mind."

Well, we didn't want that, so I left.

Outside in the hallway, there was no one to escort me, so I just walked down the hall by myself.

I got to the front lobby and gave the guy there my yellow pa.s.s, and he pointed to the front doors and said, "Go."

I walked toward the front doors. The Ministry of Public Security was sort of a bad imitation of Orwell's Ministry of Love, but there was a palpable presence of police power in this building, a feeling of acc.u.mulated decades of fear, intimidation, interrogations, blood, sweat, and tears.

I left the building and walked out into the sunlight. As Susan said, there were no taxis around, and I walked a block before a cab pulled alongside me. I got in and said, "Rex Hotel."

And off we went. I glanced at the note that Colonel Mang had given me. It was a long sentence in Vietnamese, except for the words Paul Brenner Paul Brenner. I also recognized the word My My-American. Colonel Mang had signed the note with his full name, which was Nguyen Qui Mang, followed by his rank, dai-ta dai-ta. These Nguyens got around. Anyway, the stamp on the note was a red star with a few words, including phong quan ly nguoi nuoc ngoai phong quan ly nguoi nuoc ngoai. I put the paper in my pocket, pretty p.i.s.sed off about having to carry around a note from the fuzz.

It was a few minutes after nine, and within ten minutes, I was back at the Rex.

I walked into the lobby, and there was Susan Weber, sitting in a chair facing the door, wearing navy blue slacks, walking shoes, and a tan cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She saw me, stood, and moved quickly toward me, as though we were lovers meeting for a tryst.

Neither of us wanted to be overdramatic, so we just took each other's hand without any hugging or smooching. She said, "How did it go?"

"Fine. I'm free to roam. How'd you do with the ticket?"

"I've got you booked on the train to Nha Trang."

"Great. You're terrific."

"But the ticket isn't here yet, and it's a 10:15 departure."

"How far is the station?"

"About twenty minutes, this time of day. So, what did Colonel Mang say?"

"I'm re-educated."

She smiled. "Did you keep your smart mouth shut?"

"I tried. He said the prost.i.tutes, the drugs, the karaoke bars, and you would soon be history." I added, "Not you by name, of course."

"You know, it doesn't have to be one or the other."

"It does, if you're Colonel Mang. He's got a serious double-think problem going in his head, and I'm afraid he may have a nervous breakdown. Meanwhile, when is my ticket going to arrive?"

"Any moment. And thank you for that snow globe. Is that for me?"

"Yes. It's not much, but you don't need much."

"It's the thought that counts."

"Precisely." I said, "I've got to settle my bill here-"

"It's done."

"That wasn't necessary."

"It could have been, and now you have time to tell me about the twenty-dollar ma.s.sage charge." She smiled.

"I overtipped." We let that one go, and I said, "Colonel Mang wants your travel agent to call him tout de suite and report in." I added, "Sorry if that causes a problem. He insisted."

"That's okay. Vidotour reports everything, but the private travel agents don't, unless they're specifically told to. I'll call her."

"Does Bill use the same travel agent?"

"Sometimes. Why?"

"Because he was the one who called the travel agent on my behalf. I didn't want to use your name."

"Oh... well... it doesn't matter. I'll call him and straighten it out."