Behind Munch walked Thahn Ho and her entire family. Oh, God, how he wished he had not worn this damned suit. Served him right for trying to be vindictive in God’s house. Oh well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Next Sunday, he would wear some thing less loud. As Mama made her way down the aisle, she smiled and waved at people. Unlike him, she was really good with people.
At their pew, his mother knelt, looked up at the sculpture of Jesus and crossed herself. Munch did the same. He slipped into his seat in time to see Thahn Ho kneel and cross herself. To him she looked like an angel. Her mother sat down beside him. Thahn Ho cast a quick glance at him before she sat down. It was enough to get his heart thrumming. Never in all his almost sixteen years had anyone made him feel like this. Her little brother, Le made a face at Munch and hopped up onto the pew. He looked to be around six or seven years old. When Mr. Duong knelt and crossed himself, Munch felt like he was not just performing a ritual, he was offering the gift of himself. This thought shook Munch. It was the strangest thing. A memory he had forgotten came to mind of his daddy kneeling and crossing himself with the same expression as Mr. Duong had on his face.When Mr. Duong rose, he turned to his family. Pure gratitude shone in his eyes. Once again his expression echoed Munch’s own father’s. All the sudden Daddy felt very near. It had been a long time since he had felt so close.
The music began to play. From his vantage point Munch could not see the tiny choir that warbled along. Not a single one of them could carry a tune well, but there was power in their joyful voices. It had been awhile since he had been in this holy place. First light filtered through the stained glass windows. Patterns of colored light scattered across the sanctuary floor. It was beautiful. The scent of incense and burning candles filled the air. All around him were the Saint statues he had loved as a child. The one with Mary holding the tiny peculiar little baby had entranced him when he was little. He felt Mama’s hand slip into his. When he turned to her there were tears in her eyes. What was she thinking? Was she thinking about Daddy too? His anger toward his mother softened. He gave her hand a squeeze. Truth was, Mama was one of the best people he knew. Other people might not think so, her having a love child and all, but he knew it. In that instant he knew why he was so attracted to that strange little baby in Mary’s arms. It was because, like Mama, Mary had been gossiped about and shunned because of her child. Like Mary, Mama might look frail, but she was one tough cookie. Having him and keeping him despite the color of his skin and the scandal of his conception had cost her, but she had willingly paid. And his daddy had been a good man, who took them both in and had loved Munch as if he were his own flesh and blood, just like Joseph had loved baby Jesus.
As the service progressed he became very aware of Thahn Ho. She was close, but not close enough. He couldn’t look at her the way he wanted to because, duh, he was sitting right beside her mother. Her mother dressed well. The wool suit she was wearing was deep burgundy with tailored lines. Her dad was sharply dressed as well,but her little brother, who was currently sitting on the prayer kneeler had on scuffed shoes, his shirt was untucked and his tie was crooked.
Through out the entire service, Thahn Ho and her parents kept their eyes riveted on the priest. The only time Mr. Duong turned and looked away was when Le started making rude noises with the palm of his hand. Le and Mitzi would be fast friends.
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Too soon, it was time for the Eucharist. The priest, what was his name, Father Henri, raised the wafer to the sky, offering it up for God’s blessing. He then broke it before the congregation. Pew by pew ushers invited the congregation to come forward. An usher came to their row and the entire row stood. They made their way to the front. As he walked forward, Munch could just see the swing of Thahn’s dress as she walked in front of her mother. When she reached Father Henri, she opened her mouth and the priest placed a broken piece of wafer onto her tongue. She turned and went to drink from the cup. A man held it out to her and she took a sip. Munch always thought it was really cool that Catholics could drink in church. His mother pushed him from behind. He didn’t realized he had stopped and was staring. Embarrassed he moved forward. Father Henri said to him as he placed the broken wafer on his tongue, “The body of Christ broken for you.” He honestly didn’t really understand that part. As he made his way to the man who held the cup of wine, his eyes traveled to Thahn Ha. She was walking back to their pew. To his delight, she did glance in his direction. He could feel a stupid smile coming on and there was nothing that would stop it. Apparently he had stopped again because his mother jabbed him in the back with her bony elbow. The man lifted the cup to Munch’s lips. The wine was sweet with a bit of tartness. His mother had issues with this part of the ritual. She was a germaphobic. She never drank from the cup. They made their way back to their seats.
The closing prayer was said. The people began to rise. Oh no, it was over. He hoped Mama was feeling chatty. Father Henri shook everyone’s hand as they filed out the front door. Mr. Duong was moving at a pretty fast clip. Would Mama be able to catch up with him? Fortunately, Le stopped, looked around and kicked his foot up. His dress shoe went flying into the air. He clappped his hands and said a bit too loudly, “My shoe thinks its an angel! See it can fly!”
Mama had to stifled a laugh. Mrs. Duong smiled. Thahn Ho looked a little embarrassed. Mr. Duong was not amused. He grabbed the shoe and hoisted up his son. Softly, Mrs. Duong said, “That boy! Too much imagination.”
With a glance in Munch’s direction, Mama told her, “I know the feeling.” She then asked, “Are you new to the area?”
“Yes we are.”
Mama fished a slip of paper and a pen out of her over stuffed purse. “Here’s my number, if you have any questions or concerns, or just what to chat, give me a call.”
The smile Mrs. Duong gave Mama when she took the slip of paper was much like her daughter’s. Munch glanced at Thanh Ho. She was radiant in the morning sun.
Mama said, “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope you will join us again.” Mama had never spoken a greater truth in her life.
Mrs. Duong said, “Yes, we will be back. This is a very lovely old church.”
THEY WOULD BE BACK!!! Munch became an instant fan of Early Mass.
On the drive home Mama asked, “You okay? You seemed kind of distracted.”
She was fishing and he was determined she was not going to catch anything. He faked a yawn and lied, “I was just a little sleepy.”
“Really? You looked wide awake to me.” Fortunately, she didn’t press further.
At the house, Munch went inside without thinking. The radio was on and THAT MAN was making french toast. The smile he gave Mama made Munch nauseous. He could sense his mother was restraining herself. She smiled at her new husband and said, “We met the nicest family this morning. Michael what their names?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Duong, um, Le and Thahn Ho.” He had to work hard to keep the tremble out of his voice when he said her name.
THAT MAN went, “Mmm. Duong, that name is familiar. Did they say if they were from Vietnam?”
Vietnam? Had Thahn Ho lived in Vietnam?
THAT MAN added, “I knew a nurse in Saigon, Her name was Thahn Ho. She told me her name meant Teal River.”
The words Teal River echoed inside Munch’s brain. What a cool, cool name. It was perfect.