Albert sipped his tea patiently outside a coffeehouse in Ho Chi Minh City. The hum of motorbikes as they went past on the street beside him sounded like different species of insects migrating together. He always looked forward to the energy on the streets during his trips to Vietnam.
The fruit seller had seen his kind before in her country – elderly white men holidaying alone, seeking pleasures which, at his age, only money could procure. She approached the table with a pinkish-red dragon fruit in her hands.
He saw the woman, who had a basket of fruits held against one hip, coming towards him and began to shake his head to indicate he wasn’t interested in anything she had.
Ignoring the gesture, the woman walked right up to him and put her palm out, offering him what she considered to be her scaly skinned prize. She was determined not to leave without taking some of his money.
Albert waved her off with a polite smile which did not work. He followed up with a more emphatic shaking of his hands, pretty sure she would finally get his meaning. The woman stood her ground.
A few seconds passed before Albert realized there was only one way to get rid of her. He accepted the fruit in his large hand and reached into his pocket with the other in search of loose coins.
The pocket was empty. Of course, he remembered. My wallet’s back at the hotel.
After a moment of panic, he recovered his composure and brought out his empty hand, holding it up for her to see. Now there was no way he was taking her fruit. He indicated that he had no money on him and pushed the fruit back to her. The expression on the woman’s face travelled in an arc from surprise to disappointment and finally settled in anger.
Their eyes remained locked in a stalemate. She refused to take the fruit back or accept anything but his money. He did not want what he could not pay for and what he had not sought for in the first place.
In the impasse, the woman noticed that Albert’s eyes were of a peculiar color. They were cobalt blue.
That was when his gaze suddenly broke off and went past the fruit seller. She turned and followed his gaze.
A lovely young Vietnamese girl dressed in fashionable clothes, her silky jet-black hair streaked with strands of brown, came up the street and sat down next to Albert. She gave him a peck on his cheek.
They exchanged a few sentences in English and the girl reached into her jeans pocket to fish out some coins.
As the fruit seller walked away, she didn’t remember accepting the money from the girl or leaving her dragon fruit on the table. All she remembered was that the young girl also had the same eyes as Albert. Cobalt blue.
Photo from Unsplash.com by Tanaphong Toochinda
