THE SCREAMING VIETNAMESE WOMAN standing on my doorstep wasn’t a survivor of the My Lai Massacre. She was a mail order bride who lived in a house down the street, fleeing her abusive husband.
I welcomed hysterical Tran Dinh An and her eight-year-old son, Nam, into my home. They ate strawberries and sipped milk at my kitchen table as I pieced together the tale of woe which brought them before me one sweltering afternoon last August.
Tran had come from Vietnam with an agreement to marry Mick Hitchens, a retired veteran of the U.S. Marines and long-time resident of my neighborhood.
Mick had made his marital arrangements with Tran over the Internet. Apparently he wanted a woman who would care for him and his paraplegic brother, confined to a wheelchair. Tran’s journey to America would be a motherly sacrifice. In exchange for her devotion to Mick and his brother, Nam would gain access to American citizenship and all of the opportunities that come with it Mick the patriarch didn’t provide a hospitable welcome for his new wife and son. Tran and Nam found themselves locked in separate, windowless bedrooms whenever they weren’t relegated to household chores. Police later described the bedrooms to me as “dungeons.”
Tran wasn’t allowed to make phone calls. She didn’t have a driver’s license and was prohibited from having any contact with the outside world. Mick handled the grocery shopping.
Tran said she had been physically and sexually abused repeatedly before she made her escape.
I contacted a woman on Tran’s behalf who claimed to be her “aunt,” another Vietnamese person who arrived at my house just before the police did. She was familiar with Tran’s marital arrangement and served as translator, explaining Tran had been willing to tolerate Mick’s abuse as long as he kept his hands off Nam.
On that day, however, Mick had beaten Nam severely. The boy stood up for his beleaguered mother, who Mick insisted tar the roof during one of the hottest spells on record. The thermostat that day registered 120 degrees. Mick strangled and punched Nam, leaving finger prints on his neck and bruises on his arms and legs. So, Tran and Nam fled. With nowhere to go, mother ran up and down the street screaming with son in tow.
A gardener watering my lawn brought Tran and Nam to my attention.
It took six police officers to arrest Mick, after which Tran and Nam took their belongings and relocated to the aunt’s house.
I have never seen or heard from them since. I have never seen or heard from Mick either. However, I do see an Hispanic woman ushering an older man in a wheelchair around the neighborhood from time to time.
In my opinion, a good marriage has the qualities of a business partnership. Two adults pool their resources together for the mutual benefit of raising a family. However, unlike a business partnership, marriage takes more than promises of food and shelter and money to be successful. It takes love.
Many men and women come to Los Angeles with career ambitions they cannot fulfill elsewhere. They want to be professional actors or musicians or surfers, i.e., opportunities that are exclusive to this area.
For this reason, I have found that people here, more than elsewhere, often become involved in romantic relationships for business-like reasons. I’d even be willing to say many people in Los Angeles marry not out of love, but as a kind of career move.
For some, like Tran, what is sought is what many of us already have and take for granted: Food on the table, a roof over the head and an opportunity for a future.
But I’ve come across spouses in LA whose intentions aren’t as sympathetic as Tran’s. They’re after their big break in the Industry, financial “security” or a trophy. They’re after anything but a caring partnership, and they’ll do anything to get it, including marry for convenience.
Those whose life brings them to LA-LA Land are tempted to forget that it takes more than pursuing a dream to be happy and healthy. That is to say, a human connection sometimes differs from a business connection.
So do yourself a favor on Valentine’s Day. Try managing your romantic relationships without any particular career objectives in mind. You may avoid a whole lot of trouble in the process.
And who knows? Maybe you’ll even find love. (Editor’s note: Names have been changed) Ryan Hyatt is a former staff writer for the Santa Monica Daily Press. He is seeking a publisher for his second novel, “Stay Younger Longer,” a political thriller that takes place in L.A. in 2046. He
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on January 24, 2008. Read the original PDF.