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| Illustration: Tran Thang |
SWEET ALWAYS FUCKING
On the rough dirt road jagged with potholes, on both sides of the vast rice fields laden with grain, Phuong closed her eyes and raised her face to feel the faint smell of milk rice in the light breeze.
- Come back quickly, my mother said that Mrs. Bay's field was cutting rice today.
Phuong rolled her eyes happily, picked up the briefcase on her shoulder, and quickly ran after Thang.
Phuong likes the rice cutting season the most, each time it is in full bloom, in each golden field of ripe rice, crowded with people, combine harvesters, and tractors carrying sacks of rice. The fields that the reaper could not enter had to be cut by hand. Bundles of rice are piled into sweet potatoes waiting for the machine to wait. In the rice season, children are allowed to follow adults to the fields to help with light work, but most of the fun is the main thing, there are brave children who find a cave to catch field mice. Phuong and Thang are members of that brave group of young people.
Phuong's house is located behind an old bamboo rampart. In front of the yard, there is a wrong rig of loofah dangling. On the side of the house, there are two cool mango trees that Phuong's grandfather used to swing in a hammock. At noon, when the sun was hot and sweltering, he took off his shirt and laid on a hammock, lying with his eyes closed, letting his thoughts drift back to the past war zone, where one leg was sent back.
- Grandpa, grandpa... I followed Thang through the seven-year-old field to catch mice, tomorrow I'll tell my mother to braise the laksa leaves so that my grandpa can be raiated.- Phuong ran to the top of the hammock and smiled and flattered.
- Come home early, son, come back late, your mother beat you!.
Phuong's mother said that his grandfather was a wounded soldier but not inferior to a healthy person, with only one hand and one leg left. He digs soil to build tissue, digs fish ponds without relying on anyone.
Mom said that grandpa loves to eat laksa leaves, so after the summer, there are green laksa leaves all year round. In a few months of hot weather, the leaves of laksa leaves were also dry, and the leaves seemed to be dying because of the blazing sun, but the grandfather promptly brought the laksa leaves to a new, wetter place. Grandpa took care of the green laksa leaves so that the whole neighborhood could eat them, mixed chicken salad, duck salad or any other dish that needed laksa leaves to go to Phuong's house to ask. Grandpa is gentle but also very difficult. Those who came to ask for vegetables he also gave them but did not allow them to pick them themselves. In the days when it rained heavily, there were people who came to ask for laksa leaves, he still took the rain to step by step to the shore to cut laksa leaves for them. Several times Phuong's mother tried to do it instead, but his grandfather was still determined to do it himself.
Once, Mr. Thang brought Phuong's roasted duck seeds over to Phuong's house, and the roasted duck seeds had to be eaten with laksa leaves to be delicious. Phuong ran out after the summer to pluck a few buds of laksa leaves and then ran in, the eggs were still hot, ate a piece of egg with salt and pepper, added a stalk of spicy laksa leaves, Phuong ate all three eggs that Thang gave him. His face was still satisfied from having just eaten deliciously, and a few drops of sweat fell from his forehead because of the pungent taste of laksa leaves. Phuong was suddenly beaten by her grandfather with a whip. Phuong hugged her butt while crying loudly.
- Why did grandpa beat me? That's hurt! Mommy! Grandfather beat me.
- Beat for you, dare to cut your grandfather's laksa leaves.
Phuong cried and rubbed her butt and ran out of the house. Grandpa stood watching Phuong's shadow and sighed quietly.
As soon as she reached the embankment, Phuong looked back and did not see her grandfather, so she breathed a sigh of relief but still couldn't forget the butt that had just been beaten by her grandfather, Phuong sniffed and wiped her tears still smeared on her cheeks. .
- What are you doing standing around here? You've angered your grandfather again, haven't you? Mom told me to obediently listen to him, why didn't I listen?
Phuong's mother came back from the field, her pants were low and her legs were high, and her whole body was covered in mud and looked at Phuong with an unhappy expression. Frustrated Phuong hastily vindicated herself, narrating the "case" of laksa leaves.
– Only a few buds of laksa leaves, but my grandfather was also miserly with me. Maybe I plucked a few buds and killed his laksa leaves, the whole bank was so green and lush.
Ma Phuong froze and then put her hand on Phuong's butt. Phuong lamented again. Mother sighed and pulled Phuong's hand closer, her mother sat down on the embankment, under the eucalyptus tree, the wind blew and swayed the flower branches that fell into the canal. Ma Phuong looked into the distance, patted Phuong's head, and then began to talk about the "story" of her grandfather's laksa leaves.
***
When her grandmother was still alive, she also loved to eat laksa leaves. She is good at cooking, cooking anything is delicious. For that reason, when he was young, his grandfather fell in love with his grandmother. Her figure was tall and thin, and he thought she was as weak as her body. Once he caught some fat hamsters passing by her house, caught her carrying water to water vegetables. She saw that the mice were not afraid like other young women, but smiled and prepared food for him.
– Mr. Tu today has a good harvest of mice, this mouse, Mr. Tu brings home laksa leaves to eat with white rice and then mixes a few more wines, the best, Mr. Tu.
– I only know how to catch mice, but I don't know how to cook, I bring them home and bring them home, Miss Ut thanked the laksa leaves for me, listening to Miss Ut say I also want to.
- Well then, Tu give it to me and then store it for me.
Grandpa happily nodded and gave her the field mouse wire to her grandmother and ran home to take a bath. His house is only a short distance from the house of a woman who has a son. She only had to clean a few mice when he was there. He asked her if she needed anything. She pointed out the laksa leaves after the summer and asked him to come back and pick some. Stepping back to see the leaves of laksa leaves burned by the sun, he stooped to choose the greenest buds, plucked a few buds and then went into the house to tell her to let him wade into the pond, take some mud to cover the banks of laksa leaves for good...
***
The day grandparents got married, friends and relatives joked, perhaps thanks to the laksa leaves that made their grandparents happy. Phuong quietly leaned on her mother's lap, listening to her talk about her grandparents that Phuong wished to see her grandmother once. This is not the first time she mentioned her grandmother, every time she cooks something with laksa leaves, she shyly wipes her tears.
- If only my grandmother was still alive, I would be happy to know.
– Yes, if only the country had no war, if only…
Ma said half of it and then quietly pulled the corner of her shirt to wipe away the rim of her eyelids that had a few drops of water left behind.
After a few months of being married, they had to separate. He went to the front, where in the rear she was pregnant and took care of her family. The day her grandmother gave birth to Phuong's mother was also the day she died because of a difficult birth. That same year, in a battle, he was seriously injured, seemingly lying with his comrades.
Peacefully, he returned to his hometown, finding the small house behind the bamboo rampart, looking for the silhouette of the young wife he longed for day and night. He walked on crutches on the undulating ground, joyfully calling out to her.
– Ut! Fourth is back! Come back, Ut!
Responding to his call was a middle-aged woman with a troubled face, sad eyes holding a crying baby in her arms, coming out of the house. He held Phuong's cheek and stood quietly in front of her altar, burning incense, blurring his eyes. The physical pain of war is equal to the pain of losing the person you love the most.
He visited her grave and then went to the bank of laksa leaves that he had cultivated in the past. Since the day she died, no one cared, no one cared, the vegetables were also smooth, old and yellow. He took off his outer shirt, waded into the pond with only one foot, hooked each hand to cultivate the soil. My grandfather's laksa leaves for that reason have always been well fertilized until now. It was also where he rediscovered the memories that were etched in his mind.
– When I go home, I will apologize to my grandfather, next time I will not pick my grandmother's laksa leaves anymore.
