Sacred Forest

The night in Po Nhung village was thick with darkness. Everyone was fast asleep. Mr. Pao tossed and turned, the pain in his back forcing him to sit up and tend the fire, warming the water in his hearth, hoping for dawn to come quickly. "Ah, only by staying up all night do you know how long the night is; the old saying is absolutely true." He muttered to himself, puffing away on his pipe, his son Pau frowning.

-Dad, if you're not sleeping, don't make noise, you're disturbing everyone.

-Pẩu, what you said sounds reasonable, but it's not entirely true. Going out all day doesn't necessarily mean you need to sleep so much and end up hurting.

Hearing his father's words, Pẩu felt his pride wounded, and he jumped out of bed. The story about wanting to exploit the pine forest to get money to buy household items still bothered him.

Illustration: Vu Nhu Phong

Pẩu, with the bottle of wine on the windowsill, gulped it down and then let out a sigh as if he had just drunk a few sips of cool water. Seeing his strange behavior, Mr. Pảo said:

-Drinking too much alcohol is bad for you; it harms your liver and kidneys, and you won't be able to work in the fields or on the farm anymore.

"Don't worry, Dad, we still have vast forests. I won't let them exploit them for money. Everyone in this village makes money from harvesting pine resin."

"Pẩu, you're grown up, but your brain is tiny, like a peppercorn. Just think, planting those vast forests takes a lot of effort. If you poured all your sweat into those forests, they'd become a swimming pool for you to bathe in, son."

- Dad, everyone knows how hard it takes to grow those vast pine forests, but if you can't sell them, what's the point of growing them?

-This guy speaks nonsense! He claims to be the most literate person in the country, but if his perspective isn't broad, he won't be able to take control of his life.

"Grandpa, when you go to join your ancestors, can you take the forest with you? What's the point of saying that? Don't you see that everyone in this village has a TV, a motorbike, a rice mill? Their lives are so good, yet we have so much forest, and you won't let us sell it, you're against us harvesting resin. I feel so frustrated."

"Oh dear, this guy is so stupid. You've really annoyed me. You're as devious as a fox. Without the forest, we would have died long ago, son."

"It's better to die in happiness than to live in misery," Pẩu muttered.

Mr. Pao said in a harsh voice:

- How can you say that? A man's son should have a firm and unwavering mind, like the pine and teak trees at the edge of the village. I've heard all you say, but I'm really angry inside, son.

Pẩu stormed out of the house.

***

Mr. Pao's house, usually so peaceful, was even quieter now. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He was saddened that his son didn't understand his innermost feelings. After all, he had never fully explained his family's situation to his son. As a single father raising his son, he always wanted to give him the best. Who in this village was as academically gifted as him? Who had traveled as far as him? Even as a child attending the district's ethnic boarding school, he had already visited Hanoi . After graduating from university, before even starting work, Mr. Pao had saved enough to buy him a motorbike. To him, his son was his pride, his joy, and the motivation to stay healthy and work hard to produce enough rice and corn to raise his son to be a good person.

Mr. Pao was as silent as a statue. His life was like a slow-motion film, filled with storms interspersed with small moments of happiness. His life was intertwined with the forests that the villagers called "sacred forests."

…That day, Pau was about three years old. The village had very few trees, only sparse bushes here and there. Given the village's location, few would have suspected the potential for flash floods. Mr. Pao felt his heart constrict as he recalled that scene…

That morning, as usual, the sky was covered in fluffy white mist. According to the experience of the mountain dwellers, such heavy fog would mean strong sunshine at noon. The thick fog blanketed the path, dogs and chickens were barking loudly, and a feeling of unease arose in his heart. Before heading to town, he instructed his wife:

-Don't go into the forest, stay home with Pẩu. I'll be back this afternoon. We're like "Pằng dạu" (brothers), you can't not come out if there's something going on at home.

Mr. Pao didn't think it would be the last time he'd spoken to his wife. The town was unusually gloomy, with heavy rain falling everywhere. His heart was burning with anxiety. Even the drinks of his friends couldn't calm him at this moment. So much so that his old friend said:

-Pảo, you're drinking but where's your mind? Or are you saying the wine I make isn't good?

Oh no, don't say that! Good wine is best enjoyed with good company, and our friendship is as high as a mountain, isn't it?

The torrential rain couldn't keep Mr. Pao in town any longer; he insisted on going home. His friend said:

-Pao, the rain is blocking the way home, the road is completely flooded, it's very dangerous.

-I'll go home even if I die, I feel so conflicted.

-It's up to you, Pảo. I hope the rain stops so you can get home safely.

Mr. Pao cycled swiftly through the rain, undeterred by the raging storm that seemed to want to pull him back from the town, his raincoat torn to shreds. Finally, he arrived back at the village.

"Oh my god, where did all this water come from?" After a while, he finally got home... at this point, only his younger sister and Pẩu were there.

Where is my sister-in-law?

-We were hiking in the forest, and when we left, it hadn't rained yet, so we didn't expect there to be this much water.

"Oh my God, it's dangerous!" Mr. Pao ran searching for his wife in the rain, his cries echoing throughout the mountains and forests. The rain seemed to drown out his wife's cries, preventing her from hearing his anguish... His wife had been swept away by the flood.

Many people mourned as they bid farewell to his wife, who had returned to her ancestors. His life had been intertwined with the forest since then. The forest ranger in charge of the area offered words of encouragement:

-Uncle Pao! The cause of the storms and floods is deforestation for slash-and-burn farming, isn't it? No one is willing to plant trees, that's why the soil is eroding. The heavy rain is like giant bags of water pouring down on Po Nhung. No evil spirits are harming our people.

After his wife's death, Mr. Pao was like a man possessed. From a healthy man who could sing Sli songs all night without getting tired, he became withdrawn and avoided social gatherings. The villagers all felt sorry for him, raising his child alone. Little Pau, too young to understand the pain of losing his mother, always had a charming smile on his face. Mr. Pao entrusted the household chores to his sister-in-law, who also looked after Pau. All day long, he toiled in the forest, planting pine trees where his wife had passed away. Seeing him working tirelessly under the sun and rain, planting trees, the villagers all felt compassion for him.

-Pha ơi, chai Pao pin ba da (Oh my God, Pao has gone mad!).

He hid the tears welling up in his heart, the salty sweat trickling down his lips. Let people say whatever they want. I'm doing this to comfort Pẩu's mother in the afterlife. This forest will be a place where her soul can find peace, not feeling cold when the rain comes. If only there were a forest, the flood might not have swept Pẩu's mother away. She's a very good swimmer.

***

…It had been a long time since dawn, and the sound of birds cooing at the gable end reminded him that a new day had arrived. He had just had a quick breakfast and was preparing to go into the forest when he heard someone calling him:

-Is Uncle Pao home? (Is Uncle Pao at home?)

-Dú slừn mì đẩy (There's a house there).

"Oh dear, Mr. Viet, the forest ranger, I thought you'd forgotten the way back to Po Nhung," Mr. Pao said warmly.

"How could we forget the way home? The streams in the village may dry up, the mountains may wear away, but our brotherhood will never fade," Mr. Viet calmly replied.

That's great! Who are you traveling with that you're coming home so early?

- Who else could it be? It's your son.

"That Pẩu? I thought he was with his friends." Mr. Pảo was astonished.

"He said he couldn't sleep, and his father scolded him, so he came to you for some solace. Your son is really clever. Learning is one thing, but working is another. All your rice wasn't wasted," Mr. Viet said enthusiastically.

"Oh, don't praise him too quickly, he's grown up but not wise yet. His vision isn't as broad as the stream in our village. He still has a lot to learn. That's why I didn't scold him, because he insisted on exploiting the family's 'sacred forest'," Mr. Pao interjected.

The two friends were engrossed in conversation when Pẩu brought out a steaming array of snacks from the kitchen: still the same hot stir-fried bamboo shoots with dried buffalo meat, along with a plate of fragrant roasted peanuts and a bottle of shimmering honey wine.

-Please, Dad and Uncle, have some appetizers this morning.

-You did it so quickly! No one would let a distinguished guest have something so simple like this.

- We'll continue this afternoon, Dad, but for now, let's keep it light. The story of the "sacred forest" was unfolding before Pẩu's eyes.

In a cup of fragrant mountain wine, Uncle Viet dozed off as if possessed:

-My dad loves the pine forest very much. The "sacred forest" in particular is considered a family treasure. You probably don't know all this, do you? He single-handedly toiled through rain and sun, enduring hunger and thirst to plant that forest; he wanted to show gratitude to those who have passed away.

- Back then, I was assigned to be in charge of the area. At first, when I heard the villagers saying that your father was possessed by a ghost, I didn't believe it at all. The village was changing every day; there were no ghosts or spirits left. After investigating, I learned that your mother died in a flood. You were very young then. Out of love for his wife and child, your father wanted to make amends.

-Yes, thank you, sir. May I offer my father and you a drink?

"Pảo, don't drink too much alcohol, you'll go crazy if you drink too much." It's been a long time since Pảo has seen his father so happy. Uncle Việt's voice was even:

"That forest is only two hectares wide, but my father put so much effort into it, from selecting the trees to creating firebreaks. At the time, you only advised on maintenance techniques. Seeing my father's work, the reforestation movement spread throughout the village. This village's prosperity today is partly thanks to my father's efforts. Today, our whole family must go visit that 'sacred forest'."

On two motorbikes, three people sped along the firebreak. They were the characters in a breathtaking painting of lush greenery. Mr. Pao said heartily:

-Today, Mr. Viet is visiting his family, and I would like to ask for his advice before I start mining resin.

-That's not difficult, as long as you and Pẩu follow the correct procedures and don't let the trees die, everything will be fine.

Mr. Pao looked at his son affectionately, and he borrowed words from Y Phuong's poem to read to him:

My people love you so much, my child.

Living on rocks, one doesn't complain about the ruggedness of the rocks.

Living in the valley, one does not complain about the valley's poverty.

Live like a river or a stream.

Up the waterfall, down the rapids

No need to worry about hard work.

The three of them burst into laughter in a corner of the forest. By now, Pẩu understood somewhat the origin of the "sacred forest" that his father had toiled in his entire life.

Source: https://baolangson.vn/rung-thieng-5071886.html