Short story: The season of changing leaves

Returning from the battlefield like many other soldiers, Mr. Tien temporarily put aside all the glory and pain to integrate into ordinary life, cultivate simple happiness and do useful work. Although his body is no longer intact, and old wounds sometimes ache when the weather changes, he knows how to find joy in his work, to make himself feel most comfortable. He does not want to depend on or bother anyone.

The barber shop was built after Mr. Tien was discharged from the army, or rather, after he left the nursing home for seriously wounded soldiers. He was over 30 years old at the time. He did not return alone, but brought along a woman with a southern accent. She was a nurse and had taken good care of him for several years.

2. Time passed quietly. The simple home nestled under the green trees was filled with the laughter of children. Mr. Tien made friends with clippers, scissors and a chess board every day. Mrs. Thuan, his wife, worked at the medical station. Once, on the tree-lined road, people often saw a limping father walking with his two children, a boy and a girl. There were evenings, when the trees shed their leaves, the father and children played together under the tree roots, the laughter and chatter was bustling.

Every day at the barber shop, Mr. Tien has become accustomed to the sounds of the streets from street vendors, from food carts, and the last yellow leaves falling all over the street corners. Around the end of April, some species of trees begin to change leaves. Looking at the leaves falling in the wind, he feels his soul awakening memories of a time of war in the border region. Every year, the dry season is also the time when the dry dipterocarp forest begins to change leaves. In the middle of the vastness and silence, the forest has created a feeling that is both real and virtual, both deserted and distant. Mr. Tien and his teammates used to rest under the canopy of the bare, gnarled trees, following their footsteps through the soft carpet of yellow leaves. In the afternoon, the space is even more deserted and strangely peaceful. The occasional bird calls do not disturb the inherent silence of the forest.

MH: VO VAN

Once, marching at night. Under the moonlight, the whole forest was immersed in a pensive, silent look. He and his comrades leaned against the tree, picked up each pale flower petal, and told each other the story of their lives. In the moonlight and the sound of leaves gently falling to the ground, he saw the small street filled with the color of leaves. In the gradually falling dusk, he felt the smell of blue smoke swirling around the kitchen. He missed home, missed his parents terribly. His fellow soldiers confided in him about their first love, only daring to hold hands and exchange promises but not knowing how to kiss. Just that, the whole group gathered to listen and then laughed out loud. The young soldier was embarrassed and shy. Once, under the canopy of the forest during the temporary battle, the notebook of his youth was opened, and suddenly his twenty-year-old heart was filled with the sounds of summer, of the faded yellow autumn leaves left outside the window. Turning each page, my heart suddenly flutters, excitedly looking back to the days of growing up, meeting again the innocent school years, the female students in ao dai, gentle wooden clogs on the street, the naughty male students chasing each other, leaning on branches to pick fruit on the roadside.

3. Mr. Tien really appreciates the row of trees in front of his house. Thanks to that, he remembers the glorious days of the nation's history. He remembers his youth, which means he can never forget the dipterocarp forest in the border area. The trees here are not tall but slender and sparse. Moonlight can penetrate through the branches, shimmering on the ground full of dry leaves and weeds. After the dry season, when the sun is no longer harsh and the road is no longer dusty thanks to the showers. At this time, the dipterocarp forest awakens, the trees and leaves sprout, sprouting, starting a new growing season. What a beautiful giant picture! Mr. Tien exclaimed when looking at the clumps of trees growing straight up with bright yellow leaves, some types of trees defying the weather have produced clusters of brilliant flowers.

Twenty years ago, Mr. Tien and a group of veterans returned to the old battlefield to gather the graves of their comrades. Life here has changed a lot. However, there are still many things that need attention and support. He told this story to his son. Unexpectedly, his son remembered it so much that when he finished college and had a stable job, he called his father:
- The subsidiary will organize a program to return to the source on the occasion of the anniversary of the liberation of the South and national reunification, dad!
Mr. Tien was surprised and before he could say anything, his son continued:
- Dad, come with us!

Mr. Tien proposed that his son's company organize a charity event in Bung village, a border district of the province. That was where the war was fierce, where people were grateful to the Party, willing to share food and clothes with Uncle Ho's soldiers, where he and his comrades spent their youth with the most beautiful days. And that place has become a beautiful memory, a promise in the hearts of the soldiers. And then every April, when the rows of trees along the street begin to turn colorful, their hearts are filled with nostalgia. During their meetings, they excitedly told each other about the forest in the season of changing leaves, the small village at the foot of Sop mountain, and the clear stream with clear water all year round that has been deeply imprinted in their indelible memories.

4. Then the weather changed. Mr. Tien was lost in thought as he recalled. The forest rustled with each gust of wind. Clumps of leaves were lifted high by the wind and then gently landed in the stream, the water swept them away in a stream. Mr. Tien and a soldier were separated from their comrades. The afternoon was golden bronze. Rays of sunlight filtered through the foliage, reflecting shimmering light as it passed through the cracks in the rocks. A large cave where they could temporarily shelter for the night. Tomorrow they would definitely be able to contact their comrades. He reassured his friend who was anxiously watching the darkness gradually envelop the space.

According to the plan, the elite unit would split into two reconnaissance groups to attack the enemy southwest of the forest base. Just follow the stream upstream, until there was a large rock blocking the way, dividing the stream into three directions, then turn right and you will reach the place where your teammates were waiting. Mr. Tien thought and calculated while his friend was breathing steadily.

Early in the morning, the two continued walking. The stream was cool, and the wild flowers drifted lazily. Near the bend, while crossing the stream to the other side, Mr. Tien discovered a dry branch drifting. One end of the branch had been burned. This was a branch that his teammates had used as fuel and someone had carelessly disposed of it. However, this was a clue that helped him determine where they were.
A series of gunshots into the air broke the silence, causing Mr. Tien to look around in surprise.
- Exposed!
The soldier friend was panic-stricken. The two of them quickly ran into the deep forest. It was dark when they found their comrades in the strange village.

It turned out that, enraged by their defeat in the campaign last month, the enemy had increased their forces and launched a relentless sweep. The dipterocarp forest and the stream flowing through Bung village were all within their sights. Bullets were exploding on the ground, helicopters were flying low overhead. The villagers had to be moved deep into the mountains. Brave forces were mobilized to break the siege and repel the enemy. After the battle, the platoon was ordered to prepare for a new campaign. Mr. Tien was seriously wounded and transferred to the rear. He fell asleep to the sound of gunfire and the sporadic color of falling leaves.

5. Every afternoon, when there were no customers, Mr. Tien would sit in front of the hallway, next to a pot of tea that his wife had prepared. He would ponder, take a sip and feel the breath of nature at the change of seasons through each cool breeze, each yellow leaf falling all over the street. His heart was filled with indescribable excitement. The charity trip with his son's company was more successful than expected. He met the villagers again. The hugs, the caring handshakes gradually shortened the distance. The toothless smiles of the old men and women when they met the young soldier from more than fifty years ago. They talked about everything. They were moved and sad when remembering those who had sacrificed. Some were brought to local cemeteries. Some remained forever in remote places, hidden by time.

- The flowers this season are very colorful, aren't they?
Mrs. Thuan placed the tray of food on the old wooden table, watching her husband join in the conversation. Mr. Tien smiled, saying that the stronger the sun, the more the flowers bloom. That's what makes this type of flower unique, always challenging itself to survive.
Mrs. Thuan confirmed her husband's words. She remembered the riverbank with the old trees. When she was young, he took her out to see the red flowers that had fallen the night before still scattered. He told her about the scent of this flower, about the state of the tree when it was time to change leaves. The branches at this time were like sinewy arms spread out in the blue sky. Through many storms, many bombs of war, the tree was still not knocked down. She looked at the man walking beside her with a warm, affectionate gaze and her love for her husband grew from then on. And the row of green trees in front of the house was to her a witness to the love between husband and wife.

6. For Mr. Tien, the memories of the battlefield are no longer fierce and tormenting, but gentle and soothing, awakening his soul, making him slow down to contemplate, consider and sob with longing. At an age when illness and health do not allow him to do heavy work, the barber shop, the gossip and the silent fall of leaves in the memory, are for him a small corner of peace.

CEILING PAINT

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Source: https://baoquangngai.vn/van-hoa/van-hoc/202504/truyen-ngan-mua-cay-thay-la-45c0ba8/