Fish Sauce by Anhthao Bui

Fish Sauce by Anhthao Bui
Fish Sauce is realistic fiction, and Anhthao’s second anthology collection.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Miraculous Sunday

          As usual, I got up early in the morning. I lit up the candle on the altar and prayed for our family members who had passed away to keep their eyes on us, to give us a blessed day full of peace and happiness. I logged on to the computer, and turned on Chopin classical music, at a high volume, loud enough to go through to the bedroom where Dan was still dreaming. I started to exercise. After that, I checked e-mail, read aloud the “word of the day,” “Today History News” and “Local News,” “Daily Horoscope,” and wrote a ten-minute free- writing journal entry. I tiptoed to the bedroom.
           Dan opened his eyes; with a sleepy voice, he greeted me, “Good morning, My Dear. I love the music that calms me down. Your reading is beautiful. Your voice is loud and clear.”
           I was surprised, “Did you hear my reading? I thought you slept deeply.”
           He nodded, “Yes, Baby! Although I sleep, I know what you are doing.”
           I lay down next to Dan. He embraced me; my head leaned on his chest; my eyes half closed; unconsciously, I played with the hair on his chest and neck. He murmured into my ear, “I wish every morning, when I wake up, I will see you next to me. Even when you are in the living room, I hear your sounds and know that you are there. You fill up my emptiness, Honey.”
            We cuddled.
             Dan counted as he exercised: “One, two, three, four, five, sex. Sexercise!”
              I laughed. We often played jokes while Dan did his morning exercises, in order to motivate him to exercise more.
              Dan finished his exercise at the same I finished making breakfast. Dan called me: “Honey, I am sweating a lot. I don’t like it.”
             I took his hand and led him to the couch, let him sit on the couch, and slowly dried his sweat. Dan kissed me and cooed, “Thank you, Honey. You make me happy. You are the best woman in the world and the perfect wife.”
             My eyes smiled with him. He said, “Honey, I am the luckiest man in the world. You are so beautiful. I see love in your beautiful eyes.”
            We fed each other like babies.
            Dan ate very slowly. While waiting for him to finish his breakfast, I stood up and shook my body, following the music. Dan watched me dancing. He left his spoon on the plate and moved toward me. He started dancing. Both of us were dancing; we sang, “Shake, shake, shake our body! Shake, shake, shake our body! That makes us healthy!”
           We turned around. The music stopped. Dan glued a long passionate kiss on my lips. Dan showed me a piece of paper and said, “Honey, look! This is the list of things that I need to do today.”
           I told him, “It’s fine, Dan. Today is Sunday; you don’t need to do anything. Your job is to clean the table. That’s all. This afternoon you have three hours of online teaching. That’s too much for you. I don’t expect you to do anything today.”
            Dan replied, “I know, but I want to show I am a good husband.”
             I answered him, “Thank you, Dan.”
             I cleaned up in the kitchen for about an hour. I had not heard any sound. It was very quiet in the living room. I wondered what Dan was doing. I entered the living room. Dan was not there. On the table, my sunglasses were on a piece of paper with a big note: “Your glasses were repaired by Dan, your Man.”
             Yesterday, we went to the Madrona Marsh Preserve in Torrance; a part of my sunglasses broke and fell off. Dan fixed it for me. I wore my glasses and sang, “Dan, Dan, Dan!” 
             No answer.
             I sang with a high tone, “Dan, Dan, Dan! Where are you?” 
             I went to the back and kept singing, “Dan, Dan, Dan! Where is my Man? Dan, my Man, where are you? I miss you. Where is my Man? Where is my Man?”
             From the room in the back of the house, Dan sang to reply to me (to the tune of Frere Jacques), “Honey, here I am! Here I am! I’m in the back room! I’m in the back room!”
             I entered the messy room. Dan put junk and old things in a big black bag and told me, “Honey, I am cleaning up the room. You are right. I need to donate or throw away old things that I don’t need.”
              I blissfully asked him, “Are you sure? Do you really want to throw them away?”
              Dan nodded, “Yes, Honey!”
             I doubted, “Promise me not to complain or tell your friends that I want to throw away your souvenirs.”
             Dan said with a sad voice, “Honey, in the past, I quarreled with you about cleaning up the house, so you do not trust me. Sorry about that. You help me a lot. You make the house clean, neat, and beautiful. Your touch gives our nest its soul.”
             I told him, “You make me happy. You have changed a lot. I am proud of you. Do you need help?”
              I helped Dan take old furniture and clothes to the front gate at the driveway; homeless people would take them soon.
              We were tired. We sat on the couch. Dan caressed me. He said, “Thank you for coming to America, my Yellow Flower.”
              I sang, “They come to America! Today! Today! Today!”
             Dan searched You Tube, and found “They Come to America” by Neil Diamond, with the printed lyrics on the screen. We looked at the text and sang together.
            I suggested, “Dan, why don’t we make a video for us?”
            Dan agreed, “Good idea, Honey!”
             I gave Dan a camera. While I set up the screen on the laptop, Dan set up the camera to choose a good angle to film us. We held hands, raised a small American flag, and waved the flag left to right, and right to left. We shook our bodies left to right and right to left; back and forth. We were singing, clapping, laughing, cooing, kissing, and caressing.

 --For Dan, with all my love,
Anhthao Bui
July 30, 2013