Only Van went out alone, and drank one whole bottle of wine without getting drunk, as if he were drinking water. His head felt clear, and the blood in his chest flared up like fire. The men winked at each other, clinking their cups.
“Hey Van, why isn’t your wife here to get well water for you to wash your face with?” the men jeered. Van threw his cup into a pillar of the communal house and stood up. The cup broke into pieces, putting an end to the New Year’s Eve party. Other people flitted around with their lovers, but Van flitted around with a shadow.
Van went home and found the house in darkness, only lit up by the scent of incense recently burned to welcome spring. He sneered. They’re all sleeping like a log, he thought. Ever since Biu left, there hadn’t been any spring. Spring couldn’t come home to an ugly wife. Spring couldn’t lie in the hands of a breeding hen. The breeding hen only knew how to breed, not how to laugh. Whether she looked up or down there were only tears in her eyes. He was so sick of it.
Van lay down and listened to the dew falling on the roof. The wine warmed his chest, made his hands shake, and stirred up his masculinity. He spread a hand on the wall which left wet traces and quickened his breath. Van was lying alone with his back against another bed placed further inside. He sighed and disquieted the air behind. I should lie flat on my face to cool myself down, he thought.
Did wine only fire one up, or make one sit up? A man like you is rotten, Van chided himself.
Van heard the laughter of the men in the village and their contemptuous jokes. Thumping under the moon, in the middle of the night. There’s a woman over there, I must have the right. I’ve already bought her. Van laughed tearfully. Then coughed gently. Duoc understood. She stood up and took off her clothes. Her hair tumbled down into dizzy tangles. She walked towards the wall, took down a towel to give to Van and knelt down. Soft, indistinct words from a song came out from Duoc’s mouth. She was lying down, seeing no more moonlight, no husband’s face, feeling no kisses, only darkness.
The day Biu left the village, Van got drunk, staggered and bellowed. The wine distorted his voice and made him throw up blood. Van said he wanted to die. He didn’t want to live any longer. What was the use of living when he couldn’t be with the one he loved? The shame. Duoc prostrated herself on the ground and held her husband’s leg.
“Don’t die. You still have me. I love you as much as Biu.”
Van howled, glowered and bared his teeth. He flung her away.
”You lumpy face, you breeding hen. You breeder for hire. You can’t compare yourself to Biu. Only Biu is my wife. You can’t be my wife for eternity. “
They slept in the same house separated by only a wall. On moonlit nights when he couldn’t sleep, Van saw the person lying on the inner bed leap out of bed and run onto the veranda to pour water on her body. The freezing water seeped into her flesh. Scooping up the water with her hands, Duoc cursed her face. Why had she been born that way? Her face wasn’t like a tree trunk whose bark could be removed. A greyness under a cheek pushed up from underneath making lumps. With such an unseemly face she couldn’t hold her head high and walk beside her husband. She could only hurt.
Van saw a knife glisten in the night, reflecting the moonlight on his wife’s face. He said in a daze:
“Biu is very beautiful.”
“I don’t want to live anymore. Look at my body and see if I’m still a human being? It’s both beauty and sex that you’ve chosen.”
Van threw the knife to the ground and walked away. If he couldn’t find Biu he couldn’t live in peace, couldn’t live as a human. He dropped his arms, the strength in him gone. Shame surged. Oh, why was life so miserable? The one he loved wasn’t by his side, but the one he hated, despised and feared was. Was he still a man? Always living by his mother’s rules. Ever since he was small Van had never dared to argue with his mother.
His mother was lying in a corner on a bed close to the window. The moonlight lit up half her haggard and bony face.
“I’m about to die soon. If you love me you must love your wife. Only when you love your wife can she give birth. Are you going to kill the Tran family? Then I’ll die with my eyes open.”
Van clasped his hands and bowed. Duoc crouched in a corner of the kitchen weeping, smearing the tears all over her face with two hands tainted by soot.
“I only love Biu. Mother please let me take Biu home.”
“How can she come home now that our family has disowned her? Don’t you see the two male papaya trees planted at the gate? If she returns she’ll see them.”
The night felt disjointed, sounding like the endless crying that echoed in fits and starts from the end of the village. Duoc sat in a corner of the house, waiting. He heard a cough from the other side. Footsteps shuffled. Duoc shrank back, got on the bed and shrieked. Duoc wrung the towel in her hands. Why did she have to cover her face with a towel? Why couldn’t she look at the moon, her husband’s chest, her own hands? Van snatched the towel from her hands. In the flash of an eye Duoc found was lifted up and thrown down on the bed then in darkness again. Duoc howled, gnashed and bit straight into Van’s shoulders. Her mouth sucked on his salty flesh.
”If you don’t want to look at my face then don’t get on top of me.”
”Apart from your face you’re still a woman.”
What kind of love was that. Yet Duoc had stopped asking questions. Ugly women shouldn’t ask, since asking would only cause pain in the heart, the bowels and make tears flow. Duoc served food to her mother-in-law twice a day. The old woman was weak, barely able to eat anything. Duoc cried. I’m only staying here because of you, she would say. When you pass away I won’t care anymore.
Don’t say so, her mother-in-law begged in her eyes. Duoc turned away.
”So will we have a son eventually or what?”
The patriarch spoke as members of the family flocked into the house. Some stood and some sat closely around the mother’s sickbed.
”Without an heir we’ll have to appoint another head. Another man will do. This house will be handed over too, and you can move to wherever you want, Van.”
Van looked down and clenched his lips and fists. The dying mother once in a while sighed. Soon some family members went out to smoke. Van sat down at the door. The sunlight dimmed. The two male papaya trees swayed lightly.
”What a curse.”
I’ll burn them all, Van screamed. The fire flared up in his hand. I’ll burn them all, give them all back to the Tran family. Duoc darted out and tried to snatch the torch in her husband’s hand. The fire singed her hair, scorched her upper arms and burned half of the kitchen. Duoc found her face buried and her body cloaked in ashes. The ashes covered her face and she could smell nothing but the greyness that hid the ivory whiteness of her flesh. Which was now only slimy painful broken lines.
”Are you satisfied now?”
Van stood up leaving Duoc lying hurt and exposed on the ground.
Duoc’s pregnancy protected Van’s property. Everyday Van went out at early dawn and came home at midnight. Duoc did housework, took care of her mother-in-law and caressed her belly which was gradually growing. A storm was forecast so the two male papaya trees had to be felled or else they might collapse on the house. Duoc went out with a knife but her mother-in-law picked dragged herself to the door. She shook her head, so Duoc quietly returned to the house.
”They’re an amulet to ward off that woman. It’s the only way for you to keep your husband, Duoc.”
In the morning and evening, the couple ate together without looking at each other. Van always found the tray arranged into two sides. On one side was a vial of wine and delicious food, and on the other, roasted and crushed sesame and salt and water spinach. Feeling uneasy, Van would switch the dishes. Duoc switched them back, saying, I’m used to it. Van sighed, trying in vain to swallow his food.
The breeding hen waited for Van, and Van waited for the one he loved from afar. Thrice a month he took the bus to town to make inquiries. Still there was no news of her.
Biu came back one week after her mother-in-law died when nobody expected her. She returned from some unknown place and looked completely changed. Did city food make one that beautiful? Her hair was smooth and straight and hung down her back in all of its aching blackness. Her short and closefitting shirt attracted the stares of young men in the village. Biu returned in the morning and in the afternoon several guys came to help re-thatch her roof. Biu laughed warmly.
Van put down his bowl of rice and ran uphill, calling out her name. Sharp stones and thorns were no obstacle, Van trampled on them all. Blood rushed up through his chest making breathing difficult. This time he wouldn’t let her leave again. Though Van thought so, his feet suddenly stopped at the top of the hill. Through the top of the turmeric trees he saw the figure of the woman moving lithely among the young men. Van ran towards Biu and pulled on her hand.
”Let’s go. Go home with me.”
Biu burst into laughter and pulled her hand back.
”I’m no longer a member of the Tran family.”
Van looked disconcerted. The young men laughed. It was all over. There wasn’t anything more to expect. Van was empty-handed, losing the girl of his dreams. The woman who had become familiar with his breathing, his embraces, his rubbing his sweaty head against her bosom was now a stranger. He retraced his steps and found Duoc standing desolately at the top of the hill holding her belly.
How annoying. Van walked in front, Duoc followed like a shadow.
”Go away. You curse!”
Van pushed Duoc to the ground. She rolled around and fell on top of a flowering bush growing on the road.
”It’s all your fault, breeding hen.”
Biu looked down at the scene and chuckled softly, her satisfaction mingled with tears. The two women looked up and caught each other’s eyes. Biu turned away and put her arms around another man.
After her customers left, Biu tottered and staggered in the wind, looking down at the village, which was screened by a thick blinding dew and blocked by a rocky thorny road. Biu laughed, wildly in the night. Down there at the foot of the turmeric hill, there was a man drinking uncontrollably until his heart bled. She must have tortured him, to let him know what it meant to be abandoned.
Women in the village were agitated. Ever since Biu returned to the top of the hill, their husbands sneaked out of the house every night. They couldn’t do anything about it. The women flocked to Duoc’s house. She had just put her baby boy into the cradle. There were dark circles around her eyes because of sleeplessness and crying.
”You must come up with some solution. You can’t let her lord over us.”
Duoc looked down.
”I’m at loss too.”
The women spat on the ground.
”You deserve this, Duoc. But we won’t stand for this. You just wait and see.”
They left, leaving Duoc hanging around in the dim afternoon sunlight. She sat by the window sill fondling the square towel. She only wanted Van to return. She would be trampled on, as long as he wouldn’t visit that hill anymore.
Duoc would tell him so. Duoc would make Van understand that she would accept everything and demand nothing, as long as he stayed home.
The women lit torches and went up to the hill in droves. They dragged Biu out of her house, pulled out her hair, tore her clothes and tied her to a tree. Biu’s eyes darkened reflecting the colour of the fire. The house was blazing. The fire even spread to the turmeric trees. Biu cried without a sound, tears falling down. Her hands wavered in the air. The women looked at each other smugly.
”We’ll see where you go next, whore.”
Time passed slowly, the sun had set below the western mountain range and the night was falling. The cold dew fell upon the scratches which were oozing blood. Biu’s soft hair was tangled and marked by rough cuts. Her head hung down on one side. She dreamily saw herself floating in a pomegranate-coloured puddle.
The moon rose. Pale. Van kept walking around and around treading on his own shadow. He was guzzling wine while walking. To Van now wine tasted blander than water. How strange though. Why didn’t he see Biu’s house? Was he dreaming? Van rubbed his eyes several times. Where had Biu gone? Van dashed through the forest. He called Biu’s name but heard only his own voice echoing back in drawn-out sounds from a deep abyss. Had she left again? Why was she so cruel.
”Biu, is that you? I’m wrong. Let’s stop torturing each other. I won’t let you go away again.”
Biu said nothing, ignoring the arms that were lifting her up and hugging to her chest. Her chest was warm, but Biu’s heart was cold. The shadows of the two people carrying each other moved about at the top of the mountain. Van’s feet stepped on the smarting ground which was still covered with burning ashes. The turmeric trees had been scorched grey and were scattered around in disarray.
* * *
It was faraway.
The couple felt as if they were lost in the endless turmeric forest whose dazzling white had dissolved into the porcelain whiteness of the skin. The cold dewy flowers scented the flesh. Van loved the scent of turmeric flowers, soothing and deep, and the feeling of closing his eyes and running his nose down his lover’s body and caressing and devouring it.
Van tightened his grasp, the turmeric flowers sinking into Biu’s hair. Yet it did not last forever, nothing lasted forever. Biu hugged a bundle of turmeric flowers in her arms shrinking behind the door. They couldn’t be her tears since tears alone couldn’t wet a whole bunch of flowers. Biu cried out.
”Why is the quest for lovers such a tangled skein, so perplexing, so indifferent!”
Biu swirled around in ecstasy. Her voice soared up and up then suddenly dove into freezing steam. She felt bitten and numbed, and entangled in thousands of turmeric flowers. Biu couldn’t extricate herself. Trapped. Crumbled and distorted faces. Why were there so many people other than Van and Biu on the turmeric hill? Were they coming to hear her sing, or to watch the turmeric trees dance. Her mother-in-law, aunts and uncles, why so many? She was so scared. Could Van take her away? Could they run away?
Van’s mother threw the white flowers up in the air. The flowers fell to the ground and crumbled at her feet. She cried. So did Biu.
”At least bitches can breed, but feeding this type is a waste of food. Having such a daughter-in-law is a curse on this family.”
”Can you wait for me?” Biu asked Van. “This isn’t what I want. The turmeric season is coming, so I’ll bath myself, soak myself in turmeric-scented water all night, then I won’t be a child anymore. I’ll have a baby. Van. Please speak for me, don’t just sit like that. I’m scared. We’ve just made love!”
Van remained completely silent, hanging his head in shame and pouring wine with his hand. Van had never drunk this much before. Did wine kill people’s soul? Biu was lying down with her face turned towards him. She didn’t dare to wipe tears or clean the mucus running from her nose. She couldn’t breathe. Let me die, she said. Van hugged her bosom with his arms and quietly unfastened each button on her shirt. Biu couldn’t see his face. Van senselessly lay flat on his wife’s body.
”Why don’t we pretend to break up? Then you can return in a while when mother calms down. “
”Are you planning to abandon me?”
Van was silent. The space around Biu felt like an accomplice. Woe to her parents, woe to God. Her heart was dying. That night Biu didn’t wake up to crush turmeric flowers to wash herself with.
”You forever remain a child still, don’t you? So strangely smooth and soothing,” Van said.
Biu jumped up and ran away, her bare feet stumbling and bleeding on sharp stones. Her hair blew madly in the wind. Van wasn’t sure whether he could wait for another day. The first year, he went into the forest alone. The second year, he went out with a woman tagging along. The grey-cheeked woman with sun-burnt skin. That pair of calves wasn’t meant for climbing the mountains, only for breeding.
As he passed by the turmeric hill Van no longer looked at Biu, but walked on with his head down in shame. He wanted to cross the hill quick. He walked with his back turned against Biu, but not for long. He should have just kept on walking. He shouldn’t have blamed himself. If so, everything would have been different.
”I beg you Biu, please understand me. I still love you very much but mother forbids me to take you home.”
Biu stood motionless with her back leaned against the wall in her house. Her tears were dry and her heart was cold.
”Just one more time. I beg you.”
Biu walked on as if under a spell. Van’s hands were hot, so was his breath but Biu’s heart was cold. The turmeric flowers made the bed, and Biu’s flesh lay in the moonlight, uncovered and dim. The moon was the witness, the turmeric trees were the witness. Van put his hand on her. Then ducked his head in her bosom and cried.
“Biu say something please,” he said. “Scold me. Kill me.” Biu stared up at the sky. She gave out a mournful howl, then darted away in the night, into the snowy-white withering forest.
That night, all the turmeric trees on the hill were felled to make way for a new season. The turmeric trees were dead, the moon was dead and Biu too was dead. Put me down, your hands are no longer for me, neither are your embraces and also your chest. In those burnt wild sweats Biu could smell the stink of another woman. The grey-cheeked woman. “I’m disgusted,” Biu said.
”No,” Van replied. “That’s not what I want. You aren’t a man so you don’t understand. Why do you keep grumbling after playing cold and indifferent to me?”
“Then leave,” she said. “Never come up here again. Man?” Biu screamed with laughter and struggled out of Van’s embrace, running, her hair dissolving in the dewfall.
* * *
Standing desolately in the middle of the night, eyes blinding with tears. Going home. Sitting with his back against a pillar in the house for two nights and two days like a stone. Refusing to eat, beard growing, hair growing. Once in a while Duoc looked at him through a door chink with her boy in her arms but didn’t dare to call him. She gently put a bowl of porridge down by his side then walked away. Family members asked, what’s wrong with him? Duoc shook her head and bit her lips. You’re a bad wife, they said. Why don’t you know what ails your husband. Duoc turned away. It was because of Biu.
This wasn’t life, Duoc couldn’t live like this. Even if she had to kneel down at Biu’s feet to beg her to save Van, Duoc would do so. She scurried away, feet trampling upon each other, stumbling on stones and bleeding. Why are you running like hell? The patriarch called out after her. Duoc pointed towards the mountains. I have to save my husband, I have to meet Biu. The patriarch stamped his feet on the ground and pulled Duoc back.
“Stupid women are miserable,” he said. “Go home now.” The patriarch slowly climbed the slope, his eyes riveting into the green space where the turmeric trees were beginning to bud.”Male papaya”
The patriarch emphasised each word with cold hatred. Biu started and turned around.
”Go away, whore. How long are you going to torture my nephew?”
Biu looked abashed for an instant then looked straight at the man before her with sharp cold eyes.
”If you need money I’ll give you money. Now move your business elsewhere.”
Biu chuckled slowly and distinctly.
”You just wait and see.”
The day after, Biu left the hill. The small alley leading to Van’s house which she had been so familiar with now felt foreign. Biu walked with a new mindset. Van darted out and caught hold of Biu’s hand and squeezed it.
“So you still love me?” he asked. Biu didn’t answer but turned around to look at the Tran family and smiled provocatively.
”You won’t set your foot into the Tran family.”
Van shrank back instinctively.
”Duoc, say something. Do you allow let her to enter this house?”
Duoc didn’t dare to look at her beautiful face. She lowered her eyes and spoke softly: “My husband can do as he pleases.”
Biu entered the house of old. The scene hadn’t changed, except for the two male papaya trees which had shot up to a towering height and were now swaying lightly in the wind.
”Do you choose me or the Tran family?”
Biu looked deep into Van’s eyes. Perplexed, Van squeezed her hand tighter. Biu smiled contemptuously and turned around to walk away. Van held her back. He didn’t have anything else in life but Biu.
He would give up everything, as long as Biu stayed.Duoc withered away like a turmeric flower in drought.
Every time she saw the woman in the big house Duoc broke out crying. If only she had acted ferociously like a tigress protecting its den, things would have been different. Yet Duoc was soft-hearted, and scared. What if Van was angry with her she kept thinking endlessly. The boy ground his teeth against her nipple and made it bleed but she didn’t notice. Duoc furtively eyed the woman whose hands looked as white as bamboo shoots who was sitting on the veranda. She suddenly found her own skin dirty and dry since she hadn’t washed for days. She told her husband softly:
”We need turmeric flowers. It’s already the dry season.”
Her husband told her to go slice them herself. She nodded. Carrying her boy on her back, Duoc sat down to slice the flowers. The sharp knife struck deep into her hand, blood oozed out colouring the flowers then drying into yellow streaks. Duoc carried water to the drinking water tank, her feet jangling on the ground.
Biu looked out and saw the woman’s face hidden behind the boy. The boy was crying loudly and unceasingly. Biu turned away and walked back inside.
Van added a new bed and put up a new wall. Biu laughed, saying: “I’m used to sleeping on our old wedding bed and can’t sleep on unfamiliar beds.”
The treasured embroidered pillow that Duoc had brought with her on her wedding day now followed her out to the side house. At night, she hugged her pillow listening to the moaning coming from the main house. In the morning, the two women got up and walked back and forth in the yard without looking at each other, nor did they eat together. At night as Van shut the door of the main house, the boy broke out crying in the side house. Whenever he wanted his son, Van asked a nephew to go fetch the boy for him to hold for a while before returning him.
At night, Biu was waken up by the boy’s cries. Accidentally putting her hand on her belly, Biu thought about the countless times she had longed for and expected a day when she could hold her own baby, kiss its forehead, its lips, its body. The cries in the night tore Biu’s heart. In the side house, a light bulb swung to and fro casting light outside. Duoc was huddling against a male papaya tree, turning her face to the sky. It was heart-rending for both. The morning after, the two women’s eyes looked red and swollen.
Duoc wanted to go fetch water to plant vegetables. She dilly dallied, hesitating to carry her son along since it was sunny. She handed the boy to her husband and stole a glance at the beautiful woman who was combing her hair. Van told Biu, my child is your child too, Duoc is only a mother for hire, so you must love him. Biu held the baby embarrassedly. She saw him blink and smile at her and rub his head into her breasts to look for a nipple. It was the first time Biu had felt such a sweet pain in her bowels. Only children didn’t know hatred. Biu kissed the baby’s cheek and pressed him against her bosom.
”We can’t live like this anymore Van.”
The couple sat next to each other looking down at the turmeric valley. Van gently squeezed Biu’s hand and spoke.
”Am I too cruel?”
Van quietly lit a cigarette. A thin waft of smoke rose up and melted away weightlessly unlike the heavy block of stone overburdening his heart. Van owed both women, not knowing how to pay back their due. One body, one mind were painfully torn. Seeing Biu lying sleepless every night, and Duoc holding her baby crying secretly in the backyard, he felt stung like a wound treated with salt. Was he evil?
That night, Biu gently woke up and packed her clothes. She walked into the yard, but Duoc was already blocking the gate. Duoc shook her head. She struck a sharp knife deeply and repeatedly into the feet of the papaya trees. Tears gushed out from Duoc’s eyes. She looked up. The two papaya trees fell down in halves. Van leaped out from the main house and stood aghast. Duoc looked at Van then ran away with her son.
The road seemed to stretch away endlessly. Yet Duoc’s feet didn’t feel tired. Her heart had been mangled into pieces so she didn’t care about anything anymore. Oh Van, oh God. Somebody was calling after her. Duoc heard the buzzing sound of Van’s thick hoarse voice that was being blown backward by the wind from the foot of the hill.
Duoc wanted to escape the dream. Her footsteps felt real, so did her tears, but why did he keep pulling her back to the past. Can you release me? She asked. Why are you thinking too much, he answered. You’re ugly but still have the right to love. Stop talking, she said. Just think that I’m already dead. I don’t hate anybody, just pity myself and that woman. Duoc’s head buzzed with thoughts about the past, the day she was married. The day she didn’t have the right to choose.
”Duoc, you’re lucky to find a man to marry you. You should show your gratitude to him all your life.”
The room was dark. Duoc didn’t see anybody’s face, or her wedding gown. She only heard people talking. Her father, older sister, younger brother and sister-in-law. Did everybody want what was good for her? Duoc’s older sister took her hand.
”So you don’t have to go up to the valley of dew now. A man is willing to take you home without even asking for any dowry. “
Duoc walked back and forth before the mirror, looking intensely at herself for long without finding anything that looked like a bride’s face. The make-up couldn’t cover the grey birthmark but only made it look blackish. In this village, nobody picked up a bride at night. Duoc was the only exception. It was because the dark could cover the birthmark on her cheek and her ugly face. People led her by hand and that was enough. The wedding was rapid.
”Don’t offend him or you’ll be kicked out.”
Duoc laughed awkwardly.
”Then I’ll go live up in the valley of dew.”
Her father punched his chest and cried out.
”No. If you come home I won’t be able to face our neighbours again.”
No sooner did her father finish his sentence than the groom’s family arrived. Duoc didn’t see the groom but only saw the mother-in-law and several relatives. Duoc took her conical hat and followed them hurriedly along a hill path. Nobody said anything, the party walked on intently. Duoc turned back to look towards the direction of the valley of dew.
“You must think of your son,” a female official said. Tu was old enough to be in the fifth grade now.
Duoc hummed and hawed and turned her head to the door to look at her son who was making a hoe handle in the yard. The local women’s association had been encouraging Duoc and her son to go back to the village, claiming that they would help them build a house. Her son Tu resisted. Up here in the valley of dew we plant pineapples which villagers have to come up here to buy. Up in the valley of dew his mother didn’t have to walk with her head down.
“I have so much fun here, I don’t want to go,” the boy insisted. The officials tried in vain, clicked their tongue and eventually conceded. They left the mother and son to their own life. Tu remained carefree but his mother tried not to sigh at night.
A few days after, a woman with a beautiful face carrying a bamboo hand-basket climbed up the steep hill to reach the valley of dew. The boy didn’t wait for her to ask but flew away instantly through the bush at the back of the house towards the pineapple trees. In an instant, out of the same bush the mother and son appeared.
There was no response, but Duoc’s hands fingered her shirt’s hem tremblingly. The hostess invited the guest to drink, not knowing how to start the conversation. Then Duoc spurted out the one question out of thousands she could have asked.
”How is Tu’s father?”
Behind the wall the boy pricked up his ears. He leaned on the wall looking back and forth between his mother and the stranger. He saw the women take each other’s hands and his mother smile with tears in her eyes. His mother accepted all the gifts from the woman.
The morning after Duoc got up early, packed her things up, and put on the newest clothes for her boy. The mother and son walked towards a flickering light at the top of the western mountains where the sun was about to rise, and where there was a road leading down to the village. Duoc asked her son if he wanted to go to school. The boy nodded. Duoc asked if he wanted to see his father. The boy stopped walking and looked up at his mother’s face. And the aunt who came to our house the other day too? He asked. Duoc smiled and nodded. She walked on, finding the road under her feet enlarging and growing spacious and the trees brightening under the skipping steps of her boy.
- Severe Weather Risk Northern NJ, Hudson Valley NE PA Connecticut
- Taking a hike on the Aspetuck Valley Trail
- Valley of Vision
- Shortwave to Bring Thunderstorm Chances to Valley Thursday
- Thirst State Craft Crawl at Yorklyn's Dew Point Brewing Thursday
- Photos: 2019 Dew Tour Skateboard Competition
- Photos : Day 2 Dew Tour Skateboarding Long Beach
- Photos : Day 3 Dew Tour Skateboarding Long Beach
- Switchbacks come up short at Rio Grande Valley