Chapter 32

“Daddy, how come you never talk about the war?” Jade would ask his father on those heavenly days when they would be out in one of the gardens, just the two of them, planting.

“Because to talk you need someone to talk to, Jade, and no one wants to listen. Oh, that’s not true. Your mama always listens. But it’s because she listens that I can’t always burden her. It’s not fair. She’s heard too much. The others don’t care or called me a baby-killer. Remember this, Jade: People don’t want to know about the past, especially the violent past, any more than they want to know the truth. They’ll never see you as some big hero, ‘cause you survived, especially that war. To them, you’re just another reminder.”

His father had stood up then, placed one hand on the small of his back, and leaned backward in an elegant curve.

“Of what, Daddy?”

“That we’re all going to die, son. We’re all going to die someday, and they don’t want to know that. Still, for me, Vietnam is the war that will never end.”