If there had been no genocide - a fiction (chapter 2-2)

Chapter 2-2 - Brain Tumor 

Noticing his sons approaching in the rear-view mirror, Veayuk’s father hurriedly wiped the tears from his face with the black woolen handkerchief his wife had knitted for him when they first fell in love. The handkerchief, which had almost lost its original color, was indeed older than his oldest daughter. It symbolized a token of their love and represented their times together. He could afford to lose his watch, but not to lose that precious handkerchief. Once he almost lost the handkerchief in an Italian restaurant along the Chaktomuk River. He was having dinner with his fiancée, Veayuk’s mother, on the third anniversary of their first chance encounter. Veayuk’s father had well-cooked Bistecca alla Fiorentina with a glass of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo from the Abruzzo region of east-central Italy. His mother had Fettuccine Alfredo with a glass of white Albana di Romagna. When the waiter cleared their table, they decided to skip dessert. Instead, Veayuk’s father ordered a cup of black coffee for himself and a cup of hot tea for his fiancée. After finishing their after-dinner drinks, Veayuk’s father asked the waiter to check their bill. It was then that his handkerchief inadvertently dropped from his pocket to the floor.

 The couple walked beside one another, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, out of the restaurant toward the riverfront, enjoying the night view of the city. The Royal Palace was beautifully lit, with orange lights sparkling every half meter along the fence and rooftops. Their light reflected into the water, creating a breathtaking scene.

 “What are you looking for?” Veayuk’s mother asked her fiancée after noticing him checking his pockets.

 “Uh,” Veayuk’s father hesitated, reluctant to tell her that he was missing her hand-knitted gift.

 “Can you tell me what you are looking for?” Veayuk’s mother asked worriedly. “Maybe I can help.”

 Veayuk’s father rechecked all of his pockets, but eventually became convinced that the handkerchief was not to be found. “I think I’ve lost your handkerchief.”

 “My handkerchief?” Veayuk’s mother repeated. “Are you sure that you brought it with you?”

 “Yes, I did. I used it to wipe my brow this evening before I left the house.”

 “Could it be at the restaurant?”

 “I’m not sure. But I know I didn’t take it out or put it on the table. Of that I am sure.”

 “Don’t worry about it. I can knit you another one.”

 “No, it’s not about the handkerchief. It’s about the token of our love. I can’t afford to lose it. It is valuable to me.”

 “Maybe we should look around this area. It could be somewhere near here.”

 After walking and searching for a little while, neither of them could locate the handkerchief. Beads of perspiration began to appear on the forehead of Veayuk’s father. “We should return to the restaurant and check,” he suggested.

 “If that’s what you want, let’s do it.” Veayuk’s mother held the arm of her fiancée as they walked back to the restaurant.

 “Have you seen a black woolen handkerchief with a name on it?” Veayuk’s father asked the host at the restaurant.

 “I’m not sure, sir,” the host politely replied. “Let me ask my colleagues if they have seen it. May I ask at what table you sat?”

 “We were at that table over there about an hour or so ago,” replied Veayuk’s father, pointing to a table in the corner.

 “Please wait a moment, sir. I will go and check with my colleagues who were in charge of that station.”

 “Thank you very much.”

 “Please have a seat, sir and madam.”  The host, who was wearing a black suit, left the front desk and went into a room marked “Staff Only.” A moment later, the host appeared with a handkerchief in his right hand. “Is this your handkerchief, sir?” The host smiled as he displayed the handkerchief.

 “Yes, it is,” Veayuk’s father was delighted to see the handkerchief he had lost. “Where did you find it?”

 “My colleague who served your table noticed it on the floor when he was clearing the table. Unfortunately, you and madam had already left.”

 “Thank you very much, and please convey my thanks to your colleague. We really appreciate that.”

 “Our pleasure, sir. May you have a good evening, sir and madam.”

 “Thank you,” Veayuk’s father and mother said in unison as they left the restaurant. Ever since then, Veayuk’s father has taken very good care of his wife’s handkerchief. Never once has he left it unattended.

 Veayuk’s father quickly composed himself to appear normal in the presence of his children. Veayuk opened the passenger door and let his younger brother climb inside. Both of them settled in the back seat. They were talking and laughing as usual, ignoring their father as he drove home. They had even forgotten to greet their father, as was their normal routine.

“Sons, I have something to tell you,” he said to Veayuk and Puthi, his eyes reddened from crying. 

“Yes?” Veayuk and Puthi said in unison.

With difficulty, their father uttered the words, “Your mother is seriously ill.” Veayuk did not reply at all, while Puthi abruptly broke into tears.

“Ma,” Puthi cried out. “I want to see Ma.”

“Shh! Don’t cry,” Veayuk said as he consoled his younger brother in his arms. “She will be fine.”