Peach Blossom

• Debbie Lowenstein, Grade 12, Killara High School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

1982: The village of Ban Ho lies nestled between the mouth of the Meokong River and the seedlings of the evergreen trees. The sun beats down on the exposed necks of the rice pickers imprinting red burn marks and traumatised skin cells. The narrow pathways and dirt paths snake around the town disappearing into the dense Vietnamese jungle. The midsummer stench lingers in the air as naked children chase after cheese and terrorise the hounds riddled with flies.
On the eastern bank of the stream sits a child with their legs submerged in the tepid lake.

The child’s eyes scour the village in sight of a familiar face. Summer abandons the village while the girl remains waiting. The girl wades into the cool lake admiring her reflection. Short cropped hair dripping with mud and large inquisitorial eyes is the sight floating on top of the lake. A glint of metal catches the girl’s eye as she inspects the metal chain around her neck.
1996: Ablaze straw huts illuminate the lush rice fields, as the crackling of the fire sizzles into the early morning. Stampedes of traumatised families rhythmically trample through the jungle- seeking refuge. The beauty of Ban Ho becomes unrecognisable under a blanket of destruction, as rebel villagers maliciously desolate the community. The girl stumbles through the dark desperate for asylum. Her delicate feet blister on the uneven forest undergrowth, as vines snag at her heels. Tired and fearful the girl scrambles to discover shelter for a night’s rest. Her breath quietly forms a rhythmic pattern as her mind evades the memory of her people’s destruction and welcomes the dream of darkness and sleep.

2014: The woman’s soft footsteps are the only noises to disturb the serenity of dawn. Her toes crunch over fallen leaves as the sun bakes against her exposed neck. Her head swivels examining her surroundings. The woman begins to recognise the broken pathways and snaking dirt paths trampled with mud stained footprints. A wild boar roams the desolate plain, crying out in famished despair as the familiar midsummer stench wafts into the woman’s nose. As the woman treads to the base of a drooping tree, she raises her hand to graze the rough bark.

“ Da’o”

The woman jumps in shock. With shaking hands she nervously turns around to discover the origin of the mysterious voice. As the man strides closer she is able to make out his delicate features -shaggy overgrown hair, a tall slender figure and large brown eyes. His eyes scream familiarity, but the woman does not recognise his face. The woman shifts her head to the side in confusion, beckoning the man forward.

The man lifts a spindly figure and points to the wilting tree. The gleam of metal in the sun’s rays catch the man’s attention as he purposefully strides forward and engulfs the woman’s necklace in his grimy hands.

“I found you my peach blossom.”