Afternoon in Doc Tinh hamlet

She opened the door and went out into the garden. The afternoon mist was like a cold smoke. For more than three years, she had become accustomed to such foggy afternoons, ever since she followed her son and his wife to live by this riverbank. The Tang River, full of water all year round, meandered through Doc Tinh hamlet, a small, isolated hamlet on a mound in the middle of the river, with green grass and trees as far as the eye could see because of the red alluvium deposited after the flood seasons. No one knew when the name Doc Tinh hamlet came into being, only knowing that the road leading to the hamlet was winding and undulating, and young men and women often came here at night to date. The small hamlet had about thirty houses but it sheltered all kinds of lives.

“Mom, come inside and don’t stand there in the cold! This afternoon, my husband and I will go to town to get some medicine. You stay home and eat first” - Phi’s voice echoed from the porch.

She slowly turned back, holding a coconut broom to sweep up the fallen leaves in front of the gate. This season the leaves of the dou dau were in bloom. Last night, there was a storm and rain, and the flowers fell purple in the yard this morning. Lately, she often thought about her youth, when she and Phi's father sat on a boat going upstream. Since she was seventeen, she had helped her mother go around the village to collect bananas to sell at the big markets in town. Phi's father, out of love, clung to her until the day he could take her home as his wife. They got married the year before, the year after that, she gave birth to Phi, the year after that, the boat sank while going upstream, Phi's father did not return...

“Grandma, can I have some water?” - a child whispered outside the gate.

She looked out. By the hibiscus hedge, a nine-year-old girl in an orange sweatsuit stood. The girl held out an aluminum basin to her, smiling: “Grandma, let me go in and get some water!”. She quickly went to open the gate. She knew this girl, she was the granddaughter of the blind old man who sharpened knives and scissors and often sat by the stump of the copper tree. She pointed to the well in the corner of the garden: “There, you can get as much as you want!”

The girl quickly lowered the bucket, bent her back to scoop water to fill the aluminum basin, then lowered the bucket again. Grandma stopped sweeping and looked back. The girl pulled a few more buckets of water into a nearby jar. Grandma suddenly remembered that the jar of water had dried up since yesterday. “Just leave it there, I’ll get some later!” The girl didn’t say anything, continued to bend her back to scoop water to fill the jar, then slowly carried the water basin out. At the gate, she didn’t forget to turn back to look at Grandma and smile: “Thank you, Grandma!”

She watched the girl with pity. The girl walked towards the stump of the copper tree and put the basin of water down next to the blind old man. The old man was diligently sharpening his knife, occasionally stopping to splash some water on the whetstone and then continue sharpening. The afternoon sun cast pale rays on him. In the whole Doc Tinh hamlet, every household that had dull knives, scissors, or hammers would bring them to the blind old man to sharpen. Even though every household had a good stone mortar and pestle for sharpening knives, they still brought them out for him to earn a little money to buy rice.

Many people in the neighborhood often teased the blind old man, saying that during the flood, everyone was in a panic, but he did not see the flood, so his face was still calm. Since the little girl came back and forth, the old man sharpened more knives, and he did not have to walk as awkwardly as before. No one asked, but the people in the neighborhood guessed that the girl was his relative's grandchild. Every day, the little girl came by, giving the old man a rice basket, sometimes with stir-fried beans and meat, sometimes with braised shrimp and pepper. The old man finished his work, washed his hands, scooped up the rice basket and ate it deliciously. At those times, the little girl helped him scoop the rice and whispered stories, she could not hear what was going on but she saw him smile. The little girl also often asked her grandmother for well water to wash his hair, combing the sparse hair that still had a few strands. The old man was truly blessed to have a grandchild.

She turned back into the house and held back a sigh. The sigh gently followed the wind to the river. Phi and his wife had been married for more than six years but still had no children. Whenever they had money, they went to get medical treatment. Recently, they heard that there was a good herbalist in town, so they went together. From the river, the sound of a lapwing in the afternoon echoed. She looked out, a lapwing with a bunch of dry grass in its mouth flew towards the divination ground at the end of the field. She went into the kitchen to rekindle the pot of braised fish, scooped a bowl of rice out onto the porch, and looked out at the river again. The afternoon shadow licked up the kitchen eaves, creating a shimmering streak of light. The last streak of light of the day slowly crept across the wall and faded in the quiet afternoon shadow.

* * *

The news of the blind old man sharpening knives and scissors died last night spread throughout Doc Tinh village, everyone sympathized. Each person took a hand in taking care of his grave. The late afternoon sun was so harsh, suddenly a storm came down, everyone hurried home, leaving only the little girl huddled in the corner of the hut looking out, in her arms was a small wet kitten meowing weakly.

“Go back to your grandmother’s house! Don’t let the rain and wind blow you away at night…” - she lingered, sitting down next to the little girl. “Go, leave him alone and cold, I pity him!” - the little girl looked up at the altar the neighbors had set up for him, on which was a plate of fruit, a branch of chrysanthemums beside the incense burner, smoke rising. The little girl pulled her closer, her eyes stinging. “He’s gone, do you have any relatives left?” - she asked. The little girl shook her head and whispered: “I don’t have anyone else, I’ve been with my grandfather since my mother gave birth to me, my grandfather passed away, I asked to wash dishes for the restaurant in town, that day the owner had some work to do and sent me to this neighborhood, I passed by and saw him sharpening a knife but he couldn’t see, so I often came to make him happy! Later the owner found out, so she asked me to bring him lunch every noon.” The little girl slowly told the story, her childish face seemed to have lost its light.

“Oh, isn’t the old man your relative?” - she exclaimed in surprise. “No!” - the little girl shook her head, her eyes looking up at the altar again. When she saw the incense had burned out, she stood up and lit another one, murmuring: “I’ll stay here with you to keep warm. In a few days, I have to go back to my mistress’s house, okay?”

Outside, the storm had passed, the moon was cold as mist, pouring down on the silvery road. She looked up at the incense smoke drawing the shape of hearts. Was it the smoke that warmed her or the girl’s heart that warmed her? She sat quietly listening to the smell of the smoke, letting the smoke rise to her stinging, teary eyes. Beside the crescent moon that was slanting into the vast, windy hut, the girl sat there motionless with her eyes shining like two stars, her body curved like a dent in the night. She suddenly realized that lonely children all had a world of their own.

“Okay, I’ll go home now. I’ll come back tomorrow morning.” She stood up and walked out. The little girl said yes and held out her hand to help her: “Let me take you home. It’s late at night…”

The country road was quiet. The sound of crickets mixed with the sound of dripping water. In the countryside, on rainy nights, the wind blew endlessly over the endless fields. Walking beside the little girl, she dreamed of returning to her childhood days, sitting on the steps, her feet dangling down and touching the cool, wet moss, listening to the sound of the drongo returning to the tree in front of the gate, its clear voice singing the peaceful afternoon melody. Beside the little girl, she suddenly felt her heart soften, wanting to lean on that small body while walking. From the little girl, she felt warmth and peace. Arriving at the gate, the little girl suddenly pulled her hand and pointed up: "Do you see the bright star up there?". "Ah, yes... I see." "It's my friend, but no one knows!" - the little girl whispered with interest. "Go to sleep! I'll come visit you later."

The little girl turned away, and she quickly held her hand as if she was afraid of losing a star: "Whenever you want, I'll be here waiting for you to come and be with me." The clear tears in the child's eyes suddenly fell...

Short story: VU NGOC GIAO

Source: https://baocantho.com.vn/chieu-o-xom-doc-tinh-a194003.html