The bell rings

When Ken was little, whenever someone asked him what his dream was, he would quickly say, "Ken wishes to be like Dad, to ring the church bell every day."

Once, Ken followed his father and asked to be allowed to ring the bell. His father agreed, even showing him in detail how to grip the bell rope tightly without hurting his hand. At that time, Ken thought he had successfully rung the bell. The bell would ring continuously with its cheerful, ringing sound, just like always. But things weren't as simple as Ken thought.

When Ken's small hands, with their tiny fingers, gripped the thick, rough rope of the bell, he exerted all his strength, almost to the point of wanting to swing his whole body up the rope, but the bell rope remained motionless. Although no one teased him, Ken knew that he needed to be tall and strong like his father to be able to pull the bell.

Illustration: VAN TIN

Ken loved the sound of the church bells. Each chime was like a joyful melody. His mother said that his father had been in charge of ringing the church bells since Ken was in her womb. Every time the bells rang, his mother would whisper to Ken, "Your father is ringing them. Doesn't the sound beautiful, my child?"

Several times, my mother would go to church with my father to ring the bells before Mass. From beneath the bell tower, the sound resonated even more magically. Ken grew up surrounded by that sound every day.

But it was much later that Ken learned that the church bells weren't always cheerful. When someone died in the parish, the bells would ring, just a single chime instead of the loud, resounding toll of other bell-ringing times, signaling the sad news to the parishioners.

The day Ken's father passed away, Ken had just turned eighteen. He didn't know who rang the bell, but the sound was so mournful. A feeling of loneliness and desolation overwhelmed Ken.

Ken looked towards the bell tower, where flocks of migratory birds soared as if there were no end in sight. And the wind, a gust from all directions. It was a changing season wind, unpredictable and capricious. Soon it would rain. Ignoring it, Ken stood in the open air, letting his tears flow.

After his father's funeral, his mother told Ken that another horizon would give wings to his dreams, like the bell his father used to ring, forever echoing a joyful melody in his soul. This place would be a land of beautiful memories, filled with the peaceful days of Ken's childhood.

“But what about Mom?” Ken worried about his mother after his father’s permanent departure. His mother had told him that everything comes and goes, gains and losses… it’s all normal. Isn’t it true that the unpredictable weather can dispel scorching heat overnight? So, Ken, go to a more distant horizon, to weave your dreams into reality. Here, the church bells still ring, the sound of love awaits your return.

His mother said that because she knew Ken loved music . Every sharp and flat note in music felt like a magical movement to him. Ken could listen to and explore each melody and note all day long without getting bored. Ken's guitar playing resonated every night like a musical performance, captivating even the most poetic souls. But in this rural area, the sound of the guitar and the lyrics were confined to the garden and the embankment; they could never resonate any further.

*
* *

Quyen was also one of Ken's neighbors, captivated by his guitar playing and his melodious singing every night. They became acquainted and then friends. Every weekend, they would go home together. Sometimes Ken would play the guitar while Quyen sang. Sometimes Quyen would just sit and listen to Ken play. During those times, Ken felt the days fly by.

Although they both shared a passion for music, Quyen was more practical than Ken. Once, Quyen said to Ken, "I wish we had a lot of money. We could go wherever we wanted, eat whatever delicious food we wanted, and live in a spacious house with a garden and a swimming pool, instead of this noisy rented room in a working-class neighborhood." At that moment, Ken loosened his grip on Quyen's shoulders. It's unclear if Quyen noticed. She leaned towards Ken and asked, "You too, right?"

Ken didn't answer. He thought of his mother. He wondered what she was doing right now. The last time Ken visited home, on his way back to the city, his mother had smoothed out each coin and pressed it into his hand: "I only have a little, please take it to make me happy!" Ken's eyes welled up as he touched his mother's hard-earned money from their hometown.

In the garden, every day my mother would tend to the plants, water them, and wait for harvest day to gather handfuls of vegetables, gourds, and pumpkins to sell at the crossroads. It wasn't a market, but the villagers often brought their homegrown produce to sell. Sometimes everything sold out quickly, sometimes nobody bought anything. The vendors would then trade with each other. Those with vegetables would exchange them for fish sauce and sugar, those with meat for rice, fish, or shrimp... and so on, until everyone's goods were gone.

My mother said she wasn't suffering at all. Luckily, she still had the garden to do manual labor in, otherwise sitting around doing nothing would only make her sicker. Since Ken came to the city, by chance, he immediately found a job tutoring piano for the landlord's child.

From that first student, Ken got more private tutoring jobs. Then, occasionally, Ken was invited to sing. The money he earned wasn't much, but it was enough to make ends meet, and sometimes he could buy his mother things to bring home whenever he returned.

Sometimes, when Ken had a little extra, he would give it to his mother so that her meals would be more substantial. His mother said she had nothing to give him, so he should accept it to make her happy. That time, Ken was overwhelmed with emotion as he held the money from his mother.

One time, during a meal, Ken's mother asked him, "What kind of girl is your girlfriend?" Ken honestly replied that she wasn't a good cook like his mother. His mother just smiled and said that since he was little, Ken had been a warm-hearted boy, very kind and always helping those weaker than himself. Therefore, she believed Ken would find happiness.

Quyen's aspirations reminded Ken of his hardworking mother back home. If he had a spacious house in the city, with a garden and a swimming pool, and enough money to travel wherever he wanted, would Quyen be his companion? Since leaving his hometown, Ken had wished for a prosperous life so he could bring his mother to live with him. They could go anywhere together. Ken's mother deserved to enjoy her old age in peace and comfort.

That thought caused Ken's arms to loosen their grip on Quyen's shoulders.

*
* *

On Christmas Day, Ken turned down shows to be with his mother. He needed the money, of course, but it could never bring him the warmth of being together with his mother on this important holiday that they both looked forward to every year.

This year, Ken even thought about bringing Quyen home to meet his mother, and he was sure she would be very happy. But some things only happen when Ken and Quyen have broken up. Ken thought that another man would come along and help Quyen fulfill her aspirations for a fulfilling life – something he couldn't provide for her now. Ken felt a little empty inside without Quyen.

On those silvery winter days, the bus arrived just as evening was turning into night. Ken got off, adjusted the collar of his white shirt after the long journey, adjusted his backpack filled with gifts he'd bought for his mother, and then strode with long steps along the familiar country road.

From afar, the church loomed, gleaming with lights. Melodious and lively hymns echoed throughout the neighborhood. It felt as if Ken's feet were touching some fairytale land, both real and surreal.

Just then, the church bells rang out. For so many years, every time Ken heard the bells, he was filled with indescribable emotions. His father used to tell him that every Christmas, churches ring their bells for long, clear chimes. Do you know why? It's like a prayer for everyone's peace! So, don't forget to pray with your loved ones amidst the ringing of the bells at each Christmas Eve Mass.

Before Ken's eyes, the bustling churchyard unfolded, everyone's faces beaming. Among them, Ken immediately recognized his mother. She seemed to be waiting for him, her gaze fixed on the distance. In her brocade dress, her hair neatly styled in a bun, her eyes lit up when she recognized Ken as the person who had just passed through the church gate. Ken also took long strides to quickly reach his mother.

Beneath his broad chest, Ken's long arms wrapped tightly around his mother's small figure. Several eyes turned towards the two of them, filled with love and emotion. Ken wished time would stop completely, so he could hold his mother even longer.

Just then, the church bells rang, signaling the start of the Christmas Mass. Ken said lovingly, "Merry Christmas, Mom!" His mother looked at him, gently touching his thin, veiny hands to his cheeks, caressing him as she did when he was little: "I have a present for you too!"

No sooner had she finished speaking than her mother turned around, and amidst the crowd preparing to enter the church for Mass, Quyen unexpectedly appeared with a bright smile, her voice natural as if nothing had happened between them: "Merry Christmas!"

Ken stared in amazement, first at Quyen, then at his mother. His mother's voice was full of pride: "My future daughter-in-law even came home before my son!" Then she smiled. On that kind face, Ken was sure his mother had never smiled so brightly and beautifully!

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/truyen-ngan/tieng-chuong-ngan-153533.html