Flash Fiction: Zhang to Ari - #AtoZChallenge

I registered late for the A-to-Z blogging challenge this year, so I have no real theme. In past years, I have done flash fiction inspired by readers' comments, and I'm happy to do that again, but this month the fiction has been peppered in amongst other random topics of my choosing. After A to Z, I intend to get back to weekly flash fiction Fridays, so you can still suggest a story idea in a comment if you have one.

~~~~

The counter clerk looked expectantly. "Name? For your order?" he finally asked. 

"Oh!" It was her first time at this noodle shop. "Ari," she replied, and scanned the QR code to pay. She smiled a wiggly smile, nodded, and moved to the side, to collect utensils and select a table.

As she was looking around, chopsticks and spoon in hand, a girl came over to her. "You're not from here, are you?" she asked. The newly minted "Ari" spun wide-eyed at her interrogator. She appeared to be a young college student, a few years behind the stranger she had approached. "Are you?" she asked again.

"Um," a startled smile wavered on her face again. "What makes you ask?" She couldn't be found out already! She just got to Korea yesterday. Her new identity was supposed to be secure.

"Your accent," the girl shrugged.

"Oh, yeah, I hear that a lot," Ari bluffed. With a shrug she added, "I grew up in Japan." Was that all? She breathed a sigh of relief. This new identity had not come cheap. In an effort to avoid minority persecution in China, Ari - then Zhang-Li - had managed to cross into Thailand, from where she had bounced around as incognito as possible, finally reaching a contact in Japan who fixed her up with a new identity. Having studied Korean in college, starting a new life in Korea was a natural choice.

Zhang, now Ari, had a new passport, new ID, and a new personal history available for searching online, should anyone choose to do so. 

The hardest part was getting used to a new name. She'd spent a month in Japan, learning about the area her new history said had been her home, and practicing responding to a totally different name. There was no time to mourn the loss of her previous life. Her parents were already dead from the terrible persecution anyway, and she knew they would be happy she was safe. 

After eating her noodles alone in the shop, Ari left in the direction that would take her past a shrine she saw earlier. She'd light some incense and pay respects to her parents. 

No, wait, not her parents, the parents of a former close friend named Zhang-Li. In time, she would see them again but for now she'd pray for blessings in a new life, under her new name.

This short Flash Fiction story was inspired by the prompt "A secret you wish to tell none" offered by Afshan Shaik of The Pensive, in a comment on my U post.  You're welcome to suggest any prompt in a comment and I'll get to it on one of my forthcoming Flash Fiction Fridays.

Youngsters - #AtoZChallenge

This post dovetails with my V post, but I don't think you need to have read it to understand.

To catch up, in "Validation in Vietnam" my husband and I had traveled to Hanoi to do some paperwork stuff at the embassy. Our flight home left Hanoi at 8:10 p.m. and we had noticed many young children at or near our gate before boarding. This is about those Youngsters.

It surprised me, because we aren't near a holiday time when families typically travel, it seemed like a late flight to take kids on, and this isn't a school vacation time yet. Although, when I say "Young children" I mean there were dozens of kids aged maybe five or six, and under. Probably not school age anyway.

After we boarded, I realized it seemed many of these parents know each other, as kids traded seats and parental control frequently. Maybe they had all met standing in line at check in, or goofing around near the gate. None of the kids had seemed ornery or trouble-causing - although there was one moment in the terminal where two toddlers met near a vending machine and one reached up to touch the other's face and received a shove in return, but you can't complain about a little girl protecting her space!

So it was a pretty chatty flight. Kids, yes, parents, too. It's a good thing I've seen the safety procedure presentation hundreds of times before, because I couldn't hear him over the low rumble surrounding me!

The lights dimmed for take-off, and the voices seemed to dim with the lights. 

The plane accelerated along the runway, and all was quiet.

The wheels lifted off the ground, and the cabin filled with low squeals from all the kids - some squeals of laughing joy, some of terror that receded into tears for a few minutes. I had to laugh! I've flown so often and for so long that it was "old hat" to me by the time I was a teenager. I've absolutely forgotten that the bottom drops out of my stomach at that "wheels up" moment, too! I felt young again for a beat. 

As we rose to cruising elevation, the cabin stayed dark and relatively quiet. I was relieved because after a long day I hoped to get at least a handful of ZZz's during the flight. My relief was short-lived, as the lights came up and the flight attendant announced they'd be coming through with the carts of snacks for purchase.

As the lights arose, so did the volume. I don't think I've ever been on a noisier flight. Again, no one being bad, not even a lot of crying, but so much chatter! I did get some sleep, noisy or not. When your body needs rest, it will take it!

By the time we were preparing to land it was clear the flight attendants were ready to be done. They did all the normal checks, but when all was dark again for the descent, a girl found the buttons for the reading lights. She was kneeling on the seat pressing the buttons above her - accidentally hitting the call button a couple times - and finally the crew member sitting in the nearest jump seat stood up and motioned that she - and the girl across the aisle who was now copying her - both needed to sit down!

She never came to re-check the seatbelts, probably because we were already in our slow descent toward Danang. Besides, I'm pretty sure the whole crew was just ready to get off the plane. 

It occurred to me that if we ended up crashing, all those seatbelt-less kids would end up bouncing around the cabin like popcorn in an air-popper. Just insane.

Have you ever flown with kids? Either strangers on your flight, or kids in your own traveling party? Any insights?

Flash Fiction: Ximena - #AtoZChallenge

I registered late for the A-to-Z blogging challenge this year, so I have no real theme. In past years, I have done flash fiction inspired by readers' comments, and I'm happy to do that again, but this month the fiction will be peppered in amongst other random topics of my choosing. After A to Z, I intend to get back to weekly flash fiction Fridays, so you can still suggest a story idea in a comment if you have one.

~~~~

"SHE-muh-nah! SHE-muh-nah!" Ximena gritted her teeth behind her smile and waved. She was visiting China, and thanks to the pronunciations associated with pinyin (latin-ized Chinese) everyone thought they knew how to say her name.

It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation far away from her chaotic life in Mexico. And it was relaxing, for the most part, but since her recent marriage to a Chinese national, she now had a wider base of fans here, and they all... ALL. Bar none! ...called her SHEmuhna.

At her lunch meeting that day, she tried to correct the businessman across from her. "Actually, it's pronounced 'He-MEN-uh', you know?" She said it with a smile, trying to be gracious.

"Ah! JiMENa! I see."

Ximena sighed. It was an improvement, however small. Languages were different. She'd have to learn to let it go if she was going to enjoy this trip.

This short Flash Fiction story was inspired by the prompt "Ximena" offered by Liz A. of Laws of Gravity, in a comment on my M post.  You're welcome to suggest any prompt in a comment and I'll get to it during A to Z or shortly thereafter.

Wawa Wars - #AtoZChallenge

If you live on the US east coast, you are blessed by Wawa convenience stores. Treasure your Wawa!

(As I recall, "wawa" is a native American word for the Canada geese that commute through the US. Wawa's logo is a silhouette of a goose flying past a sunset.)

(Also, this is not a paid endorsement. Just my very strong feelings about convenience stores.)

 

The Wawa between my home and work had about 20 pots of coffee going during peak hours, closer to 10 during slow times. Regular, decaf, dark roast, french roast, hazelnut, vanilla... I don't know what all flavors. I usually filled my cup half way with dark roast and topped it up with hazelnut. (I don't use cream, so the hazelnut coffee added a nice flavor.)

Once, when road-tripping through the north-central states, I was flummoxed by the coffee at a gas station there. I had filled my tank, then went inside for some go-juice, and stood in front of the two enormous urns of coffee for long enough that one of the locals noticed me. "We only use the high-octane stuff out here," was his response to my silent staring.

(To my foreign readers, in the US, there are a million euphemisms for types of coffee. "High octane" means regular, not decaf. It's meant to insult someone who drinks the "weak" stuff.)

That's what baffled me! There were no labels, but two identical urns. Both plain coffee.

More than just coffee and (often) gas, at Wawa there were touch-screen customized sandwich stations. Oh, but wait! Not just sandwiches! Soups, sides, chili, breakfast sandwiches, all with a few taps on a computer screen. They had experienced cashiers who kept the line moving so you knew that if you stopped at the Wawa you could be in and out in minutes.  It was clean, well-stocked, and well-staffed.

When I moved to the Midwest, convenience stores were somewhere in between. Most offered hotdogs from a roller-grill. Some had pizza under a heat lamp if you wanted a slice. The coffee offerings varied but none approached the mind-bogglingly extensive smorgasbord of coffee that Wawa provides.One convenient difference (to me) was the ability to buy beer! In Delaware, alcohol is only sold in liquor stores. Period. So it was truly an added convenience in the Midwest.

Now, in China - Totally different ball game! Forget about coffee, unless you prefer bottled iced coffees. Coffee in China has a limited presence and absolutely no game. Fuhgeddaboutit. But there was a 7-Eleven near my subway station where I would often grab a pack of sushi to bring home for my supper. Americans joke about eating convenience store sushi, but it does not apply here! Some of the convenience stores had a sort of hot lunch offering. Not like the touch-screens of Wawa, but you could go to the window and point to what you wanted; they'd package it up for you and take it to the cashier. I usually didn't, because street food was fresher and cheaper. (Made while you watched instead of sitting under heat lamps.)

Here in Vietnam? They have mini-marts that are basically a small grocery store. Nothing like convenience stores in the States. No need! There are five or more local coffee shops on every block with fresh, delicious Vietnamese coffee for you - to stay or to go. And for food, there are small food carts and pop-up noodle shops on any street at the right time of day. It's a different world.

Wawa wins the convenience store wars in my book. If only they had quality, cheap sushi!

How do you get your quick grab-n-go snacks and drinks where you live?

Validation in Vietnam - #AtoZChallenge

There I was - again, packing a bag - again, to fly to Hanoi - again, to have documents validated - again.

In the Very early morning, pre-dawn by a long shot, we headed out. No real luggage - just a backpack with some papers and electronics and a couple cans of iced Vietnamese coffee.

Having done this before, we opted not to stay overnight (hence, just the one backpack). This was to be just an hour or so at the embassy. Our appointment was early afternoon. Since flights get delayed - which ours did - and appointments can take longer than expected, we were flying up early and returning late. Even with a quick appointment it would be a long day.

In Hanoi, we had a taxi take us to the embassy's Vicinity, but got out to walk around and find food. Our intention was to find street food, hopefully a Variance from the fare in our town. We were Victorious! Very quick, very tasty, but also with seating where we could waste some of our FOUR hours of free time. We found a dish that is similar to, but a different spin on a dish we can find back home. Vibrant flavors blended together in a unique way.

With no Vehicle, we continued maneuvering through back streets, wending our way toward the office we needed. We knew there was a coffee shop next door to it, and decided to wait there for the last two hours. Luckily, the two comfy chairs had been recently Vacated. We made our home there with coffees, kindles, and occasionally closed eyes. As always, Brett saluted and waved at the kids running around - two brothers, it seemed, whose parents were having a coffee meeting of sorts. He caught a look of support from the dad, so knew it was okay... then the kids got comfortable with him and started sneaking around, trying to poke at him from behind, or crawl under his chair. 

As usual, kids ignore me, so I remained unmolested. They weren't really causing trouble, just bored and recognized a friend in Brett. When I pulled out my notebooks and started reviewing my Vietnamese Vocabulary, they found their Voices. They asked a few questions in English: "How are you?" "What is your name?" and then ran off and came back with some Vietnamese words written on a piece of printer paper. Brett is not learning Vietnamese yet, so this brought me into the game, writing the English words above the Vietnamese ones I knew, and looking up on my phone the ones I did not.

Before we left to get in line outside the Embassy, we said goodbyes to the boys and their mom (moms?) who were now at the table, and who took a picture and connected to Brett on social media.

On to the embassy! We were first in line before the doors opened, which opened an hour before our appointment time. As first in line, first through security, first to complete our Validation form, we were actually done a half-hour before we were to begin! Woot! Now we had more hours to waste.

We Visited the Tiny Cafe - a coffee/smoothie/juice place we'd found on the last trip. But after a while, the feeling of inertia started feeling like drowsiness, so we got up and walked through a park, deciding to walk until we needed to eat something, and then get a taxi to the airport. ('Cause why pay airport food prices if you don't need to?) While walking, we found Vincom Center: a big shopping mall. Glorious! Air conditioned comfort, window shopping, and in the end, having a beer in a booth in a restaurant.

As we left to seek out a taxi to the airport, we did, this time, find street food to eat as we walked, and got to the airport in good time. There were a surprising number of families with small children hanging near our gate, and indeed, they were all on our late night flight! But that is a story for another day (specifically, Day "Y").

Now we are home safe, and when Brett went to turn in the Validated paperwork to our business partner this morning, she asked, "What about XX paper?" 

We had forgotten to print out one of the important documents to be Validated! So I get to look forward to - again - packing a bag - again, to fly to Hanoi - again, to have documents Validated - again. Deja vu, anyone?

Flash Fiction: Upside-Down - #AtoZChallenge

I registered late for the A-to-Z blogging challenge this year, so I have no real theme. In past years, I have done flash fiction inspired by readers' comments, and I'm happy to do that again, but this month the fiction will be peppered in amongst other random topics of my choosing. So suggest a story idea in a comment if you have one, otherwise I hope you will find my mental meanderings amusing! 

~~~~

I found myself falling upwards through the air out of a hole in the sandy ground - a totally unfamiliar terrain to me! At the last minute, I grabbed hold of a root sticking out near the surface and held on for dear life as I felt my legs flail behind me for a minute before they reacquainted themselves with gravity.

My knees landed with a thud behind me. Feeling stable, I finally let go of the root - finger by finger, keeping contact until the last minute.

What the heck had happened?

One second I'm digging a hole to bury my daughter's hedgehog behind our house in Argentina, the next I'm - where? A desert somewhere. Can someone turn off the sun?

As I looked around, I saw jeeps and military personnel skidding to abrupt stops around me. Three men were standing nearby, clearly the first on the scene. "Stop where you are!" I heard before I got any kind of look at anyone behind their riot gear. I've seen movies. Already on my knees, I held up my hands while keeping my head down.

What was going on? 

My husband never agreed with the idea of burying dead pets. Was it a cultural thing? Back when I was growing up in Idaho, my mom buried all of our pets as they died. Or maybe he'd read Stephen King's Pet Semetary too often? But, since I was the one who relocated so he could be near his family, he allowed me this indulgence in my past memories - creating a tradition with our kids.

Now, here I was, but where was here?

A black hood had been pulled down over my head, and after a bumpy ride in what I assume was jeep, I was now in an enclosed, concrete block walled, industrially blank room. The hood was now removed, and I sat on a hard plastic chair facing two men in military fatigues. "How did you get here?" the seated man asked. He was the "good cop", I guessed. 

"I was hoping you could tell me..." I said. I tried to smile, but I doubt it convinced them of my innocence.

"Where did you come from?" the same man asked. The other guy was pacing behind him like a panther in a cage.

"San Luis, Argentina. Where am I now?" Hopefully, giving them information would help them be forthcoming with information for me.

"Hey! We'll be asking the questions here!" came the voice from the silent stalker in the back.

"I'm just -"

He lunged toward me. "You're just nothing! What do you know?"

"Kai, calm down!" My savior the good cop chimed in. To me he said, "Excuse him. He gets sensitive when civilians make their way into his territory."

"So I'm in a territory." I was no spring chicken. Their accents screamed USA but territories are different than states. At least I had the gratifying experience of seeing these two men exchange a glance of recrimination - both blaming the other, if I was reading them right. I took their moment of silence to push my point. "Look, I was digging a hole in my backyard in San Luis, and as I reached in to clear some rocks I was pulled through to here. I don't know where this is, but my family will be looking for me."

As the pacing panther nodded toward a camera in the corner, the more easy-going one leaned in to say, "We'll check on all that." Of course someone was watching this interview. Was my family going to be okay?

Something must have showed on my face. Concern for my family or something, because he shrugged the responsibility over to stalker panther-man, who spun a chair around from a corner of the room and sat on it backwards. Leaning over the back of the chair, he squinted at me.

He said nothing for a long minute, then whispered. "You ever been abducted by aliens, Genevieve?"

How did they know my name? "uh..." I hadn't, but things were starting to click into place. I was in a desert. These were American military personnel. Now, ALIENS? "...no, I haven't." I said.

But I knew. I was in Area 51. The question was, would I ever get out?

This short Flash Fiction story was inspired by the prompt "an ordinary ritual in which something goes terribly wrong" offered by Barbie of Crackerberries, in a comment on my Q post.  You're welcome to suggest any prompt in a comment and I'll get to it during A to Z or shortly thereafter.

Truth Be Told... #AtoZChallenge

Truth be told, I can't lie.

I can tell a half-truth; I can stretch the truth; I can't outright lie. 

Is it a gift? Is it a curse?

Even excuses. I realized long ago that giving an untrue excuse to get out of something never worked. People have an answer for anything. 

Last week, at a networking luncheon I saw a friend I haven't seen in a while, but we didn't get a chance to talk. As I was leaving she said to come over later for a "small barbecue"... but I was just leaving a big social event and I can't handle too much socializing in one day. I kind of nodded - already dazed at the concept of going out again - and she said, "message me" and I left, agonizing about whether to go or not. Because I like her, and haven't seen her for weeks, and would love to talk to her, but I was just about maxed out on socializing for the week. 

Twitter suggested "claim diarrhea" to get out of a social engagement. Which wasn't really a social engagement. She was just saying I should stop by later. Totally casual, but I was in a spin.

I can't outright say I had diarrhea. That's a lie! I tell the truth!

So, which truth to tell: "I have moderate social anxiety and as much as I value our friendship, my brain is exhausted from talking to too many people - when I would rather have been talking to you - and I now feel I wasted that luncheon when I should have been catching up with you instead of debating the weather with some other woman"?

Or the truth that "I was utterly exhausted and lost my afternoon and still have things that I need to get done"...Which I did. The meal at lunch was carb-heavy, pub-fare, a lot of fried stuff, and although I did not have diarrhea, I did succumb to a food coma and read/nap in the hammock out front instead of doing my writing and editing.

I told her the second. Truth, and gentler (for both of us) than my confessing to my extroverted friend that as an introvert I can't be "on" all the time. She immediately agreed that lunch was a carb-fest and she, too, had similar issues with her day.

I was right to do so. A couple days later I had to give myself a day off and just stay home doing nothing. My brain, body, and heart were exhausted. This is how it can get for us introverts!

Or is it? Are you introverted? How does it effect you?