By the Vam Co River

Illustration (AI)

The early morning sun was shining gently.

The eldest grandson brought his girlfriend home to introduce to the family. It was obvious that they had just met for the first time, but… Mr. Ba Banh felt strangely familiar. He asked and found out that this girl Thao was the granddaughter of Mrs. Hai Muoi, an old friend he had not seen for a long time. Hearing the name of his old friend, he felt a little happy inside, but suddenly thinking of something, he tensed up, trying to appear calm and asked, but his voice sounded more vibrating than a guitar string:

- How are your grandparents these days?

Thao paused for a moment but still politely replied: She is still healthy, but he passed away a long time ago. Obviously, when she finished speaking, he breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Ba Banh knew he was old, Hai Muoi was also old, old people, life and death were inevitable, but somewhere, deep in his heart, he still hoped that she was still healthy.

Thinking of Hai Muoi, thinking of the broken relationship from his youth, he felt his soul wandering, his eyes became blurred, his hazy gaze followed the floating water hyacinths, as if he was slowly walking on the vast road of memories. He said that Hai Muoi and he had known each other since childhood, both of their houses were by the Vam Co River, which was undulating all year round. At that time, people were still suffering a lot, any family that had enough to eat and did not go hungry was considered well-off...

The sky was just getting light, the mist was still thick in the sky, the orange rays from the East were as thin as embroidery thread on the deep dark gray night cloth. As a child born into a family that made rice paper, starting from today, Ba Banh had to wake up early to help his parents dry the rice paper.

This step is not difficult or tiring, but for a child who is still in the age of eating and sleeping, it is not very pleasant. Ba Banh was spreading the rice paper on the rack, feeling sleepy, yawning, his eyes and nose were sloppy like someone had pulled down the curtains, it took a lot of effort to finish. When the last rice paper left the child's hand, he ran into the porch, climbed into the hammock and lay down snoring.

It was not until the sun rose, the thorny rays of light shining on his face, that Ba Banh woke up. He rubbed his eyes, stretched and yawned, then opened his eyes, and his face turned pale when he saw dozens of rice papers blown by the wind all over the yard, some lying precariously on grass and tree branches, some precariously perched on water hyacinths or floating further and further away on the waves, the few still lying obediently on the trellis were also dried out by the sun.

When his mother came back from the market, Banh was already beaten. Being beaten so painfully, he felt as if the world was collapsing, but before he could scream, he heard a loud laugh coming from the fence. Through the veil of tears, Banh saw clearly that a short, dark-skinned girl with coconut-shell hair was standing on the guava tree next to the fence, looking over here, showing her toothless mouth and smiling like a monkey. He knew that it was Muoi, the annoying neighbor girl who had just moved in not long ago. Banh hated Muoi from then on.

Since then, Banh has been looking for “revenge” on Muoi for a dozen years, but has not been successful many times. Year after year, the “resentment” has piled up more and more. After so many years of clinging together like a shadow, the feelings between the two of them are like the water of the Vam River, looking indifferently but surging, calm but seething, seemingly limited but unable to distinguish the shore, how long has it been neglected, looking back, it has overflowed without knowing when.

Yet, at the age of eighteen, just after finishing school, Muoi hurriedly told Banh that she had to get married. Banh said yes, Muoi got married, then got married. Banh was also preparing to ask for a wife. After speaking, the two of them looked at each other in silence, then looked out at the river shimmering in the sunlight, the words of congratulations were awkward and hard to swallow, like chewing on sweet potatoes, then… bowed their heads and turned away, each going their separate ways.

One turn back, more than half a century have never met again.

Before the day Muoi's husband's family came to pick her up, Banh disappeared, leaving in the dark of night, following the liberation army, leaving Muoi only a congratulatory letter and a fountain pen that he had engraved himself.

Many years later, the country was at peace, Banh also returned, his hair was just starting to turn gray, his arms and legs were basically complete, only missing two fingers. Looking at his parents, siblings, and house that were still there, he knew he was happier than many people. The only thing that made him regret was that on the other side of the fence there were only wild grass and green weeds. Muoi's whole family had moved away. His parents said that the small house had moved away not long after Banh left. Banh wanted to ask about Muoi's wedding but he swallowed the words back down. It had been almost ten years, even if there was nostalgia, people had already settled down.
The past can only be let go with the flow, there is nothing left to mention.

A few years later, Banh got married, when his son was eight years old, his parents also followed him to his grandparents. He and his family still lived by the river, doing the same job, then his son grew up, got married, and had children. Now Ba Banh is past the age of “co lai hy”, becoming “Mr. Ba” waiting to hold his great-grandchild, his grandmother has been dead for several years, it seems like the old memories have gone to sleep. But then the “future granddaughter-in-law” appeared, the memories of the past came back to life, rolling like waves in his heart.

I wonder if she would recognize him if we met again?

More than half a year later, Minh and Thao got married. On the day of the wedding, he had the chance to set foot in Mrs. Hai Muoi's house. He woke up early in the morning, put on a smart Western suit, slicked-back hair, and pinned a rose to his chest, looking like a gentleman. His daughter-in-law looked at him, covered her mouth and chuckled, while her son teased her with a pout:

- Are you three planning to marry Mrs. Hai?

Ba Banh snorted in response.

The wedding procession rolled on, the road was not long but filled with anticipation.

When he was seated in the main seat, he still didn't see her. The ceremony was over, but he still didn't see her. She must have been busy and didn't come to her nephew's wedding. He was a little angry. But it was a happy day, so he couldn't say much. While he was absent-minded, he caught a glimpse of Minh and his wife respectfully offering incense at the family altar.

And yet… I saw a very familiar smile in my memory. The smile in the portrait he had drawn for her. The portrait was slightly faded, lying silently behind the glass.

She is so young!

It turned out that Thao was her younger brother’s granddaughter. As for her, she had no husband or children. That year, after using the excuse of breaking up with her grandfather, she quietly joined the Liberation Army with her younger brother. Thao’s grandmother told with a very proud voice that from the day her sister-in-law, Mrs. Hai Muoi, joined the army until she went through the fierce sweeps, she and her comrades still kept their oath of “Determined to defend Go Dau”, to defend the land, the people, the countrymen, and the homeland.

After the defeat in the year of Mau Than, the enemy pushed the war to a climax with a series of heavy weapons brought to the battlefield, fiercely attacking our people and soldiers, causing many difficulties. She sacrificed her life in a "holding back" battle so that most of our troops could retreat to Thanh Duc base. The only remaining relics were a portrait left at home and a fountain pen with her name engraved on it, which was always kept intact in her shirt.

He and she, without telling each other, both chose to follow the call of the country. After all these years, he finally expressed his feelings to her. The day she fell, the war was still fierce, and what she longed for had not yet been seen. But he had already looked closely for her, once for several decades.

After the ceremony, he reached out to light an incense stick on the altar, turned his back again, and surely would meet again one day.

Outside, the sunlight was golden honey-colored, pouring a gentle coat on the lush green coconut leaves. Looking at the newlyweds walking hand in hand against the sunlight, he seemed to see himself, and her, in another image.

Vam River, waves still gently lap…/.

Dang Phuc Nhat

Source: https://baolongan.vn/ben-dong-vam-co-a198977.html