Drop a bright red heart

That afternoon, people released the dam, the tide rose so strongly that it flowed so fast that a bunch of his water spinach was blown out into the river. He felt sorry for his property and dived all morning to reinforce the ropes. It was dusk when he crawled up, standing on the bank listening to the cold river wind, shivering, his jaws clenched. That night, his body was burning like fire on the outside, but inside, a chill ran down his spine. He opened his eyes and saw the roof of the hut swaying, and the narrow hut he had always kept was now so spacious. The sound of the wind and the water boiling outside sounded so far away.

Hearing the news, Luom hurriedly rode over on his bike. "Really, why didn't you tell me to come help?", he grumbled and ran into the village, grabbed some lemongrass leaves, perilla leaves, grapefruit leaves... rolled them into a bundle and cooked them in a clay pot, forcing the old man to cover himself with a blanket and steam. The smell of the leaves filled the hut. A moment later, Luom's wife came over with her pregnant belly, holding a bowl of porridge in her hand. The chicken egg porridge had a lot of pepper and onion in it, blowing on it while eating, sweating profusely, and feeling lighter. Old man Tu murmured:

- Don't tell Co about your father's illness. He'll yell at you.

Luom was busy folding the blanket, turning around:

- Then from now on, you must take care, call me if anything happens!

- Yes! Now go home and take care of your goods, we still have business in the afternoon.

Luom and his wife have a noodle cart, pushing it out to the crossroads every afternoon. From 3am until midnight, they still wait to pick up some hungry kids who come home from a night out. The couple arranges their living expenses, saving up so that tomorrow afternoon Luom's wife can go into labor. Oh, just thinking about the time when there will be a little kid walking around the hut calling "Grandma!" will be so much fun. The hut will no longer seem so spacious!

Luom picked up the fertilizer, gave his father some careful instructions, then turned the bike around and went home. The road ran along the river, on this side were lush green gardens, and beyond was the vastness of the sky and water. A few broken motorboats glided by, suddenly becoming nothing more than floating leaves. Without looking back, Luom was sure that behind him would be the shadow of the old man sitting huddled, watching until Luom's bike disappeared around a corner. That figure had been seen many times by Luom, and had long been in his heart, stirring up a feeling of sympathy, an urge to sometimes, for no reason, take the bike over to the hut, sit for a while, say a few random words to the old man, and then go home.

The terrible loneliness seemed to be imprinted in every movement, every posture, every passing moment of his. The shadow diligently cutting vegetables in the early morning when the river surface was calm and misty. The shadow sitting and exhaling cigarette smoke at the bow of the boat was imprinted on the hazy afternoon background. And the shadow trudged on an old bicycle amidst the hustle and bustle of the morning market...

*

Sunday afternoon, Co came to visit his father. His clear voice came before the sound of the bike kickstand. He bent down to take off some styrofoam bags and carried them into the hut. They were food and other things as usual. He hadn't put down his backpack yet, he said some things and then left, as always, in a hurry like a dog stepping on fire.

Just like Luom, Co knew that when he turned his back, there would be a shadow squinting its eyes and watching until the car turned the corner. Co probably had the same thoughts as Luom. However, Co did not just keep it in his heart, but because of... professional habits, he took out his phone to record all those moments, so that from time to time he could sit down and look at it and click his tongue: "Poor dad!".

People say Co is a nonsense YouTuber. Selling instant noodles like Luom can still be considered a profession, but calling a YouTuber a profession sounds strange! How can you feel sympathy for a guy who always has his phone in his hand, listening to and spying on sensational cases of jealousy, jumping off buildings, climbing electric poles on drugs, running out of topics, going all the way into the fields or even up the mountains to find great people. He stays at artists' funerals day and night like a dead father, jostling and shouting, chasing after artists in dark glasses, tight masks, and fast steps. Some artists who have passed their prime or have no reputation at all suddenly have a few moments of brilliance thanks to him. People have problems, cry and struggle while cameras are pointed in all directions, then squeeze in and put microphones all over their collars, ask some leading questions, insert them right into their frustrations so that they can't control themselves and expose their hearts to the whole community to see. And he's very fond of drama. Car filled with gas, phone fully charged, ready to go, filming and chatting, eating bread and "producing the show", face beaming like a motorbike taxi driver who is falling asleep listening to an app pop up.

Previously, Co had a job repairing computers, anyone who needed him would call and he would run with his tools. He practiced making a few clips sharing his experience using computers, and the number of viewers gradually increased. Then, without knowing when, Co became a professional YouTuber. He was truly passionate about his job. In the story, he kept hearing about his trips, his eyes lit up when recalling the time when YouTube allowed him to turn on ads, and the number of subs, the number of likes... as if all of those things were the reason for living. In short, in the eyes of the villagers, Co was a vagabond, with no clear career, and no future. The old men and women bluntly said: "I have a daughter, it will be a long time before I date her"...

Co just laughed. During the meal with the three of them in the hut, he asked Luom: "People say I'm a nonsense YouTuber, what about you?". Luom chuckled: "What else?". Sometimes when he had free time, Luom would go to his page and post some smileys. Co yelled, "Why are you laughing at me?". Luom was just joking, but in his heart, Luom thought Co was a playable kid, a compassionate, loyal, and righteous kid.

That day, it was Co who told Luom that "even a poor person can get married". Then Co sat in Luom's rented room, calculating and taking notes. On Luom's wedding day, Luom was struggling to play the role of a groom, and he alone played several roles, being a best man, filming, taking pictures, and for a moment, also a singer singing the song "Oh, so happy...".

The stork goes around like a shuttle, connecting the poor and lonely with kind hearts. It earns views, likes, money and even affection. It is truly "rich". It bought its father a rowing boat for his convenience in cutting vegetables and reinforced the hut on the windy riverbank. Occasionally, it stops by, spreads a mat, lies down and chats nonsense to relieve its father's boredom.

*

At noon, the Stork stopped by Luom's place.

- Are you free? Come with me!

- Drinking?

- No! It's your dad's case.

- More!

Luom's voice was eight parts skeptical, but like the previous times, he put on his shirt and sat on the back of Co's motorbike. The motorbike turned onto the national highway towards Binh Duong. Outside, there was an alley with houses close together, but the deeper it went, the green garden appeared. A small black painted gate. A woman in her forties, tanned skin, friendly eyes. She introduced herself as Lan. The host and guests sat down at a stone table under the shade of a tree in the front yard. Her voice was soft, some words were pronounced a bit stiffly. She told about her childhood in a small alley in Saigon in the early years after liberation. About her mother's last wish when she passed away, then showed the two guests the souvenirs her mother left behind. An old tin box of biscuits contained several yellowed photos carefully wrapped in plastic. The photos were of a young couple, the husband wearing a republican soldier's uniform. Another photo showed the two sitting by a riverbank. Then she talked about the anxiety of a daughter who had been searching for her father for years but had no news. She said she had a strong feeling when watching Co's clips, so she decided to call.

The stork asked permission to take a few close-up photos. Luom leaned in to look, hoping to recognize a familiar feature, but the people in the photos were too young to make a comparison.

*

The two of them worked hard to arrange a reunion right in the old man's riverside hut. They did not dare to hope for much after several unsuccessful attempts. So the joy was like a timid apricot blossom spreading its bright yellow petals when spring had long passed.

The old man Tu's veiny fingers trembled as he fondled the photo of his youth with his young wife. Tears welled up in his crow's feet. His lips trembled and quivered. A reunion that was not as noisy as in the movies. No sobbing, no hugging. Just the daughter's small hands holding her father's large, veiny hands, to hear the beat of his heart, the love, the sacredness of fatherhood. The call of "father" trembled and hesitated. The father's voice was deep, telling the story that both Luom and Co had heard many times.

It is a story of war and separation. It is the irony and cruelty of fate. It is the ups and downs of a life. It is the loneliness and heavy longing that is imprinted on space and time. The mornings, the noons, the afternoons on that riverbank, are all tinged with a deep sadness.

- So when did you meet Luom's mother, dad?

- Uh... Luom... Just consider him your brother.

- You probably didn't expect to have such a tall and muscular younger brother...

Luom forced a smile and interrupted, then suddenly felt so sad that he couldn't speak anymore.

Because Luom was not his biological son. Luom was actually an orphan, his background was even more obscure than his sister's. He didn't know much except the story of his grandmother telling him that one morning, he went to the coconut grove, heard a baby crying, and saw an old basket moving. His grandmother opened it to see, felt so sorry for him that she sat down and cried, then took him home to raise. After nineteen years of love, his grandmother left him. His uncles and aunts, for personal and public reasons, on the day of his funeral, tried their best to prove that he was the one picked up from the coconut grove, not related by blood. Aunt Ut said she would renovate his grandmother's memorial house so that the eldest son could get married and live on his own. Luom sat outside on the porch, tears of love for his grandmother mixed with tears of bitterness for human love. After one hundred days of his grandmother's death, he prostrated himself before the altar and left. His backpack contained a few old clothes, his legs were black with mold and alum, and his sandals still had bits of straw stuck to them. He didn't know where Saigon was, but he just jumped on the bus and went. He did all kinds of jobs to make a living. At night, he lay in his rented room and watched his phone. He watched Co's YouTube. He knew very well that he was not the lost son of old man Tu in terms of age and social stage. But the desire to call him "Dad!" urged him to contact the channel owner. He called him "Dad" because he loved his old man and himself. Then he moved here so that father and son could visit each other more easily...

The Stork was struggling with his work. Today the Stork was very happy because he finally found a family for the old man after many unsuccessful attempts.

- Today is really happy! Only when there are so many people can we call it a family.

The stork said as he turned the phone towards Luom. Luom quickly jumped out of the screen.

- Don't show your face! You stupid YouTuber.

But saying that, in his heart, Luom had already given it a big, bright red heart.

Rules

Live beautifully with total prizes up to 448 million VND

With the theme Loving Heart, Warm Hand, the 3rd Beautiful Life contest is an attractive playground for young content creators. By contributing works expressed through various forms such as articles, photos, videos... with positive content, full of emotions and attractive, vivid presentation suitable for different platforms of Thanh Nien Newspaper.

Submission period : from April 21 to October 31, 2023. In addition to the forms of memoirs, reports, notes, and short stories, this year the contest category has also been expanded to include photos and videos on YouTube.

The 3rd Beautiful Living Contest of Thanh Nien Newspaper highlights community projects, volunteer journeys, good deeds of individuals, entrepreneurs, groups, companies, enterprises in society and especially young people in the current Gen Z generation, so there should be a separate contest category sponsored by ActionCOACH Vietnam. The appearance of guests who own works of art, literature, and young artists loved by young people also helps the theme of the contest spread strongly, creating sympathy among young people.

About the contest entries: Authors can participate in the form of memoirs, reports, notes, reflecting real stories, real events and must have accompanying character images. The article must express the content about a character/group that has taken beautiful, practical actions to help individuals/communities, spreading warm, humane stories, optimistic and positive living spirit. As for short stories, the content can be composed from real or fictional stories, characters, events... of beautiful living. The contest entries must be written in Vietnamese (or English for foreigners, the organizers will take care of the translation) no more than 1,600 words (short stories no more than 2,500 words).

About the prize: The contest has a total prize value of nearly 450 million VND.

In which, in the category of articles, reports, and notes, there are: 1 first prize: worth 30,000,000 VND; 2 second prizes: each worth 15,000,000 VND; 3 third prizes: each worth 10,000,000 VND;

5 consolation prizes: each prize is worth 3,000,000 VND.

1 prize for the article most loved by readers (including views and likes on Thanh Nien Online): worth 5,000,000 VND.

For the short story category: Prizes for authors with short stories participating in the contest: 1 first prize: worth 30,000,000 VND; 1 second prize: worth 20,000,000 VND; 2 third prizes: each worth 10,000,000 VND; 4 consolation prizes: each worth 5,000,000 VND.

The Organizing Committee also awarded 1 prize to the author with an article about entrepreneurs living beautifully: worth 10,000,000 VND and 1 prize to the author with an outstanding charity project of a group/collective/enterprise: worth 10,000,000 VND.

In particular, the organizing committee will select 5 honored characters voted by the organizing committee: award 30,000,000 VND/case; along with many other prizes.

Readers can send articles, photos and videos to the address: songdep2023@thanhnien.vn or by post.

( Only applicable to the Article and Short Story contest categories ): Thanh Nien Newspaper Editorial Office: 268 - 270 Nguyen Dinh Chieu, Vo Thi Sau Ward, District 3, Ho Chi Minh City (clearly write on the envelope: Work participating in the 3rd LIVING BEAUTIFULLY contest - 2023). Detailed information and rules are posted on the Living Beautifully page of Thanh Nien Newspaper.

Source link: https://thanhnien.vn/tha-mot-trai-tim-do-choi-truyen-ngan-du-thi-cua-an-phuc-185230923182447025.htm