This is part of a series. It should make sense by itself, but the preceding Angel stories will help. Please enjoy, and votes and comments are welcome. Nick and Thien finally...
I got a postcard. Proper stamp and all.
"You are invited to a special picnic. Saturday, 12 o'clock, we will pick you up. Yours, Thien." This was a bit odd. A written invite, to a picnic? Why not just yell over the back fence?
That's how I replied, to Mrs Phuong later that day. I bought a nice Riesling and had it chilled ready. I had absolutely no idea what to expect after our cafe trip earlier on, when I took advantage of her.
I didn't actually know if Thien could drive; that topic had never come up, so I was puzzled by that part of the note as well. I found out on Saturday when a creaky old car pulled up and two Asian girls stepped out.
"Hello Nick, I'd like you to meet Thuy. Thuy is my very best friend. She gives me lots of good advice and she knows everything about me." Everything?
Her name was said "tuwee" but with the same breathy T sound as Thien. I liked the sound of it, but I wasn't sure of the name's owner. She was appraising me, like a horse-buyer checking a colt. And how much of 'everything' did she know? But let's be polite; Thien thinks I'm a nice boy, at least I think she does...
"Hello Thuy, it's nice to meet you."
"Thuy is lending us her car today. She's also kindly going to drive us. She knows a perfect picnic spot. She'll drop us off, do some errands and then pick us up. How good is that?" Too good, was my first thought, what's going on here; but then thought, c'mon, give her a break.
"Thanks Thuy, that's really generous. It sounds like a lot of trouble for you."
"Not really. I'm visiting a friend not far away, and I can get some shopping done. No trouble." Her voice was deeper than Thien's, but had the same musical lilt. Mostly she was the opposite of Thien: her hair was short and dyed when Thien's was long and black; she was a bit plump and more endowed than Thien; her eyes roamed around but they did not show her emotions. Thien had a gaze that held you like a netted fish.
I offered the wine and a dessert from the freezer. Thien appreciated the dessert and the right drink to go with it. We got into Thuy's car, which had a wonderful old vinyl and motor oil smell. A smell to remember.
I was in the back, the girls in the front. They started to chat rapidly in Vietnamese, I was sure I was the subject of the talk. Then Thien said, "We should speak English." She almost said "Engris", which made me smile. I spoke English, they spoke a mixture, but we all enjoyed the drive.
Thuy drove well. The car, being older than she was, was in no hurry but managed to keep up with the highway traffic. Not very far from town we came to a large inlet, in fact an ancient flooded valley that opened to the sea some distance downstream. We arrived at Brooklyn.
Not that Brooklyn. This Brooklyn has about a hundred houses, a marina and a huge railway bridge. I guess it was the settlement for the workers who built the bridge, with the name being a joke: at the time there would have been nothing but wilderness all around. Thuy took us through the place and up the hill above it. She stopped at a small car park. The sign said,
DEAD HORSE BAY WALKING TRACK. No Dogs Allowed.
Seriously. I found the picnic case, Thien took a backpack.
Thuy started in Vietnamese until Thien squinted at her. In English she said, "Down the trac', then you go leff. You see a ledge, you go up. You there." She had a huge smile.
"Good good. Now you go, quick quick!" Their English had been damaged by all the Vietnamese chit-chat.
"Three hours. See you la'er, little sista!"
The directions were good. They led us to a broad ledge of sandstone, with a slight slope of warm grass behind it. We were surrounded entirely by bushland, with a view across the water. The sun shone, there was no breeze. In the distance a train rolled over the bridge, then disappeared into a tunnel. That and the far-off seagulls were the only sound. It was a small piece of paradise. Thien unrolled a camping mattress and put a towel over it.
The picnic was worthy of the scene. Spring rolls, dumplings, special meatballs that we ate with fragrant rice, all wrapped in a lettuce leaf. We fed each other. My Riesling was still cool enough and we sipped each other's drinks. Thien's hair shone in the sunlight. Her smile made time slow down for me. She laughed, I laughed. We sat, leaning back on our elbows, comfortably leaning against each other.
Then Thien stood up. She looked out to sea, thinking. Then she slowly turned around, undoing the buttons of her blouse one by one.
She turned sideways on and flicked her blouse off her shoulders. Staring at me intently, she slid the fabric down. She took one arm out and let the blouse drift to the ground. She unclipped her bra and slid the straps sensuously down over one arm, then the other. She twisted towards me with her head tilted so her hair brushed her bare shoulders. I had a vision of our first meeting, in her room when she stripped for me. That had been at night, but here in the full sun I could see every detail. Her coffee-brown nipples, standing above small areoles on honey-brown skin. Fine downy hair. The faint outline of her ribs, beneath her beautiful tiny breasts. Her belly button on a flat tummy. Her hands slid past it and into her skirt. Her thumbs caught the material and slowly pushed the waistband down. Her hips widened very slightly, then her dark bush appeared. Skirt past her knees, she lifted one leg and swung it out. This exposed her pussy lips and pushed the skirt to her ankles. She stepped out, naked in the sun. She ran her hands up from her thighs, over her breasts and up into her hair, running the strands through her fingers. A goddess. A vision from heaven. The goddess reached her hand out to me.
As I rose, she turned us round slowly so that she sat where I had been. It was my turn to undress. I tried to remember my moves in my own bedroom, so long ago it seemed. I felt such a big clunky Anglo beside this Asian deity, but I had to do my best. Maybe not overdoing it was the trick.
