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| Illustration: Phan Nhan |
The sound of the recess drum seemed to wake up the cicadas hiding in the canopy of the royal poinciana trees. They chirped in unison, chirping and incessantly. The scorching May sun on the brick floor could not stop the mischievous footsteps of the students. Khai invited his friends:
- Hey guys, want to go watch the cicadas change their skin?
- But they are so high up, how can we see them?
- I've seen a lot of cicadas clinging to the base of the tree.
- Idiot! Cicadas only change their skin in the quiet of the night.
- Who told you that?
- I saw in the newspaper that at night people use flashlights to catch cicada pupae.
- What do people do with cicada pupae?
- To cook food, what else?
The whole group tilted their heads up to look at the red phoenix tree canopy. Summer had arrived. The last lessons in the textbooks were coming to an end. The kids chattered and asked each other about their summer plans. Hiep said:
- I will go to the beach. I will cross the longest sea bridge in Vietnam. In Hai Phong , the city of red phoenix flowers. That is where my father used to work for many years.
- I will go back to my maternal home to hunt crickets, find bird nests and fly kites in the fields every afternoon. It's great.
- I don't like it as much as I do. I will go to my grandfather's hometown, follow my uncles deep into the forest to find honey bees and bamboo shoots. Sometimes I will go to the stream to catch crabs. The stream in my grandfather's hometown is very cool, if I'm lucky I can catch some stone crabs to cook soup with wild vegetables.
Bang! Bang! The sound of the ruler hitting the table made the whole class jump, sitting up straight with their arms crossed. When the poem “Greetings to Grade 1” by Huu Tuong resounded, Bich felt a surge of emotion in her chest: “Hello blackboard, window/ Hello familiar seat/ Everyone! Hello stay/ Welcome the little friends up”. Just yesterday Bich was still shy in her new environment. But a school year is almost over. Bich saw on the brand new notebooks that each stroke had blossomed under the ink-stained hands. On the plump lips of her friends, each line of poetry seemed to know how to spread its fragrance. Every day after school, Bich had so many stories to tell her mother. Nhat was called Chi Pheo by the whole class, mom, he was both mischievous and prone to tantrums. Hiep always liked to tease me. He kept hiding his pen and notebook, making me search until I was out of breath. Yesterday I told the teacher, so he got scolded. Huyen is late every day, Mom. She lives with her grandmother. Her grandmother is old and can't ride a bike. It seems like she's an orphan. She doesn't talk much, has to spell when reading, and is slow at calculating. But she's very stubborn, Mom. Yesterday, she even took my pink pencil without permission. But I didn't tell the teacher. Why didn't I tell the teacher? I was afraid that if the teacher scolded her, she would be ashamed, Mom. She returned the pencil but refused to admit that she took it from me. She insisted that she found it under the table. Even though I remember that before recess, the pencil was still lying on the desk. Mom gently told Bich: "What if when the kids were running around, they bumped into the table and the pencil fell to the ground? If you don't see it with your own eyes, you don't have the right to accuse your friend of taking your pencil." Bich bowed her head and remained silent for a long time, then looked up and whispered to Mom: "Mom, are all orphans very pitiful?"
Bich often told stories about her friends every day, while sitting behind her mother's bike or at night. It wasn't until her mother rubbed her back and urged her to go to sleep that she finally fell asleep, carrying with her the dream of her beloved school and classroom. In the last lesson, the teacher said: "Have a good summer vacation, but don't forget your books. Don't let your math problems fly away. You have to review your lessons from time to time. You have to practice reading a few pages of a book every day. If your friends' houses are close to each other, you can pair up to play and help each other study." The friends asked each other, "Where do you live?" "Every night, my whole family goes to the flower garden and park to play. Do you guys go there or not? Let's meet up there. My house is near the historic banyan tree. Ah! My house is only a few alleys away. Does anyone live near the town? Me! Me! So let's pair up to study together." The whole class was bustling, noisy, and bustling when the teacher's voice rang out again:
- This year, Huyen is a special case in our class because she cannot read or write fluently. The school has created conditions for Huyen to practice more during the three summer months. If she makes progress, she will be promoted to second grade with her friends. If not, she will be forced to stay back for another year in first grade. The teacher hopes that those who live nearby will help Huyen during this summer. So that she will not be left behind. Is there anyone in our class who lives near Huyen?
- Huyen, where do you live?
- My house is in the temporary parking lot, far behind the railway.
The teacher looked around, but not a single hand was raised. Bich thought for a moment, then exclaimed:
- Miss! I know that place. I can ride my bike there.
- You are still young, the roads are crowded. You cannot ride your bike alone.
- Miss, I can cycle on the small road inside. Every night my mother and I go to exercise near that area. We will form a review team.
- That's great. I hope that with your help, Huyen will have to try harder. This summer she will read better and calculate faster. I wish all of you a happy, useful, safe summer and don't forget your lessons. Can you hear me, class?
The “Yes sir”s resounded in unison. Textbooks were closed. Poems slept peacefully in each page of the notebook. Pens and rulers rested leisurely in the school bag. The school gate closed. Only the old security guard was diligently sweeping each broom, gathering the dry royal poinciana flowers on the brick floor that was scorched by the summer sun. The principal beat the school bell longer today, as if there was something lingering about it. Bich waved goodbye to her friends before sitting on the back of her mother’s motorbike on the scorching road home. Summer vacation was really fun because she could sleep in every day and no longer worry about finishing her homework every night. But Bich already missed her friends and school. That night, holding the small gifts her friends gave her, Bich thought back to so many memories.
***
In the summer, her parents asked her if she wanted to go back to her hometown. Of course, she loved going back to her hometown. Last year, she stayed in her hometown for three months of the summer. She went to the fields to catch crabs and then followed her grandmother to the forest to herd cows. In no time, her skin was sunburned, her hair was dry and stiff, and her calves were covered with thorns. Her siblings had so many fun things to do in her hometown that Bich was never bored. Although she was so happy, now when her parents mentioned going back to her hometown, Bich hesitated. Her warning still echoed in her head.
- I really want to go back to my hometown. But I promised my teacher that I would come to Huyen's house to help her study. Huyen is so pitiful. I don't want her to have to repeat another year, Mom.
- I support you. But are you sure you can help your friend improve? You are at a playful age, I am afraid that we will have too much fun together and forget our duties.
- I promised I would do it. But it also depends on Huyen. If she is lazy to study, I can handle it.
Mother looked at Bich lovingly and said:
- I believe you and your friends will create a memorable summer.
Looking up at her mother with her big round eyes, Bich smiled. From that day on, every afternoon, Bich was often taken to Huyen's house by her mother. There were also days when Bich rode her bike by herself, but always with her brother or parents accompanying her. Huyen's house was located deep in the alley, passing through the cool eucalyptus hill. Every day Bich came, she saw her friend waiting outside the gate. In her hand, sometimes she held a bunch of early-season lychees, sometimes a bunch of longans or custard-apples. Although her house was simple, the garden was spacious and the trees were lush. Huyen often invited Bich to sit under the tree to study. The letters were sometimes mixed in the chirping of birds, the rustling of dry leaves. Math problems sometimes danced in the thin rays of afternoon sunlight filtering through the foliage. It was okay, Bich and her friends would have fun playing and studying. On a young mango leaf, Bich used a felt-tip pen to write each letter. In the garden there would be a treasure, and to find it, Huyen had to solve the math problems that Bich gave her. Sometimes the two children together held a branch and wrote a poem on the ground. Sometimes they played a game of writing letters to ants, caterpillars, and brown bees and hid them somewhere in the foliage. Sometimes Huyen's spelling echoed throughout the garden, startling the birds and making them fly away in panic.
In a corner, Huyen's grandmother sat picking vegetables, weaving brooms, and lovingly looking at the children. She had rarely seen her poor grandchild so happy. Her parents died in a traffic accident when Huyen was still a baby. Her grandmother raised Huyen with sugar water, condensed milk, and crying all over the neighborhood to beg for milk. The little grandchild was not only inferior to her friends in terms of clothes and clothes, but also lacked the love of her parents. Many times after school, Huyen ran to the back garden, bowed her head, and cried because she felt sorry for herself when she saw her friends being picked up and taken away by their parents, loving and pampering them. Sometimes Huyen acted stubborn and mischievous to hide her sadness. Huyen felt inferior and had few friends. Every day after school, she would play alone with the dog and cat in the corner of the garden. Since Bich came to the house, not only did Huyen have friends, but the trees in the garden, the dog, and the cat also felt happy. She realized that her grandson was happier, more active, and studied harder. Even when she closed her eyes and dozed off, Huyen still brought joy to her little dream.
Sometimes the teacher would stop by Huyen’s house to teach her difficult lessons. Joy was shining on her face when she saw her student making progress. Huyen had completed all the homework she assigned. Bich believed that Huyen would pass the special test after the summer so that she could go to second grade with her friends. Bich already missed her friend’s garden. She missed the small handfuls of candy that Mrs. Bich put in her hands. She missed the chirping of birds and the joy of finding the last bunches of fruit of the season hidden in the canopy. She missed the cool afternoons when the two of them lay listening to their grandmother tell fairy tales. Maybe in the future, Bich and her friends would have summers filled with joy. But for Bich, this was a memorable summer in her life. A summer filled with friendship…
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