LONTAR issue #2 by Jason Erik Lundberg (editor) Page A

school.  
    "Pass me the string please," her Ba said from behind her. She huffed and stalked across the room to his tin of repair tools and back. Ba didn't look up once, just put his hand out and mumbled thanks when she slapped the reel of string into it with all of her strength. He just kept on searching the fishing net for gaps.
    "I'd be more useful on the boats with you anyway," she began as if they had never stopped the argument for dinner and then for bed the night before. "I don't see the point in school. Mr Truong just drills us and then falls asleep."
    "Mr Truong cycles an hour a day to teach our children and the only payment he is given is a free lunch."
    "Well if I don't go to school, you won't have to feed him and we'd all be better off!"
    "Quyên," Ba warned.  
    "If I was a boy you'd let me come!"
    "Quyên!" Ba looked up this time and she knew he was angry. Still, she refused to take it back. She just stood there with her shoulders and fists clenched, wanting him to hit or shout at her so she'd have a reason to push back. "One day you'll understand," he said finally. He returned to the net and she knew then what she would do that night when they were asleep. She would cut through those carefully mended gaps, just enough so that it would seem like bad luck rather than malicious work. She would do it even though it would mean a hard week for them all.  
    The ky lân looked at her as it swallowed the memory and for the first time Quyên felt shame. She clutched the dress to her breast and buried her face in it until the creature left. Over her head and round her waist she tied the new clothes that were too big for her twelve year old frame; besides, there was no mirror up here in which to see herself, no one she knew to whom to show off.  
    The floating market continued to gravitate towards her with their wares but she shook her head. Quyên was tired now and urged the water elephant to take her home. Her new jewellery jangled like she was a queen and she longed for a mirror to gaze at herself. The elephant ignored her, hovering as immovably still as a forest giant. A catfish larger than a dog sallied towards them with a red dancing fan dangling from its whiskers.  
    "I'm not sure there's anything sweet to find in here but you can look anyway," she said. With that, the fish brought up an unencumbered whisker and touched her forehead with it.
    She remembered that the basket of coconuts was heavy but every time she let them drag on the ground, Bà noi shouted at her and she had to heft the strap further up her shoulder. She glared at her grandmother's back and resented the beads of sweat pouring down her face and neck. So what if the old woman was carrying two baskets to her one, she had decades of experience! If only Quyên could be allowed one of those coconuts and its sweet water to enjoy in the shade, she would be able to walk at double the speed with enthusiasm, of that she was certain. But they were all earmarked for market and Bà noi had looked horrified when she had suggested it earlier.  
    They had cleared most of the jungle and were on one of the dirt paths when they could see a commotion in the village. A crowd of people had gathered and some of them were shouting at each other. Bà noi seemed unfazed, plodding on and taking a route that would detour them around the throng. Quyên strained to hear the crux of the argument but her grandmother had gained a sudden spurt of energy and was practically sprinting to their hut.  
    Quyên was not therefore expecting her to stop suddenly. She bumped up against the old woman's back and was surprised to not be greeted with the usual curt comment. Bà noi stared down at the ground, muttering very softly as she shook her head. Quyên peered around her and saw Thuan the water buffalo lying on his side, breathing shallowly. Flies buzzed around his nose and eyes but the beast didn't care and let them crawl over his face. Those ribs that she remembered from the bruising