'From Hai Tho' by the Vam River bank

At midnight, in the intensive care unit, except for the critically ill patients who were always lost in their dreams, the rest were bustling with activity. Some people shed tears when they saw Thanh kneeling beside his father's hospital bed.

Báo Long An•25/07/2025

Illustrative image

1. At midnight, in the intensive care unit, except for the critically ill patients who were always lost in their dreams, the rest were in a commotion. Some people shed tears when they saw Thanh kneeling beside his father's bed, his body trembling, the suppressed sobs occasionally bursting out in a choked cry. He was forced to tie his father up because the old man kept pulling out the IV needle, blood gushing onto the bedsheet. His hands, accustomed to untying and mending bandages, could untie any knot he found.

After drinking nearly two liters of alcohol with me that day, while sleeping in a hammock, he suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth, biting his tongue and drawing blood. Thanh lifted him onto a three-wheeled vehicle and rushed him to the hospital for emergency treatment. After three days, when he was stable, he was transferred to the intensive care unit of the Internal Medicine department. He woke up, but because he hadn't had his usual drinking time for several days, he kept falling into delirium.

"Just hold on a little longer, Dad. Once you finish those two IV bags, I'll untie the tubes for you, okay?" Thanh said to his father, trying to comfort him.
kid.

- Whose voice is that whispering in my ear? If I'm not mistaken... it's Aunt Ta's voice... Is it Hue Dan?

- It's me, Dad! I'm Thanh!

- So it's you, Auntie! Oh dear, what crime have you committed that you're kneeling like this? Why don't you smile instead of looking so gloomy? What crime have you committed?

- I am guilty… of tying up my father.

"Hearing you say that only makes me more confused. How could... How could a wife tie up her husband? No way... you're mistaken! My wife wouldn't dare be unfaithful; she loves me so much! She cares for me so much! She's made so many vows to me!"

The caregiver in the next bed told Thanh: "It seems like he's hallucinating from some old opera or traditional theater performance, Thanh?"

- My mother used to sing traditional Vietnamese opera, and my father adored her, so he memorized a lot of her plays! My father didn't drink so heavily back then. After my mother passed away, he was so sad that he started drinking excessively!

- The first day… our meeting drove my heart wild… because of her. Her eyes sparkled… ah ha… sparkling brightly like a thousand stars, her eyelashes curved like willow branches, her lips like peach blossoms, we swore to each other that we would never change, like birds with joined wings… forever together.

- Dad, don't strain your muscles, the rope will hurt your wrist!

- Auntie, may I ask, who am I doing this for?

- Haha... And for whom else?

- Because… of us!

- Because of her?... Ha ha... I helped her father advance to glory... and brought upon myself pain and humiliation. Even if you don't care, at least have some compassion... how could you be so heartless? I haven't been unfaithful to you, so why are you being so cruel to me? I'd rather you let the enemy kill me than you tying up your husband and handing him over to them.

- Dad!

- You should go home now, Auntie!

After several sleepless nights, exhausted, I lay at the foot of my mother's hospital bed, trying to listen to Thang's drunken ramblings. He was a year older than me, a year a year working as a fisherman on the Vam River in the Go Noi and Thanh Dien areas. It seemed Thang imagined himself on stage, playing the role of Tu Hai Tho meeting his wife, Ta Hue Dan, before his execution. His bound hands flailed his fingers, his voice hoarse, barely audible. Frankly, he knew his lines better than the stagehands behind the curtain.

- Ta Hue Dan… should I drink this cup of wine? Because this… is a bitter cup… tearing at the overflowing resentment in my chest, tears of love pouring from my eyes as I bid farewell to my beloved going to a distant realm, yet her image will remain forever revered. In this final moment, I try to distinguish right from wrong like a tiger in my heart, willingly destroying my own claws. Oh God! Has fame, power, and the iron bars of a beautiful woman erased the name of Tu Hai Tho? The cup of wine we shared long ago is broken, this cup is our last meeting. I am weary of fame, I bow my head in contemplation. Why don't I cry? Why are my lips stained with salty tears? We part ways, each going our separate ways, tears like dew and mist. But never mind, I say all that, after all, it is the bond of husband and wife, I will drink it all to please Hue Dan.

2. At 54, Thao is still single. Calling him "picky" is only partly true; the main reason is that for the past few years, his elderly mother has been bedridden, practically a vegetable, and he's been the one taking care of her – bathing, feeding, etc. – leaving him no time for anything else. "Ultimately, if I suddenly brought someone home and made them suffer with me, it would be a pity!" Thao said. Having cared for her for so many years, he took her from Cho Ray Hospital to 115 Hospital, then to Trung Vuong Hospital, and only later to the provincial general hospital. Because of this, he's proficient in simple nursing techniques like changing IV fluids, removing needles, administering diabetes medication, and using nebulizers… In the Intensive Care Unit, everyone calls him "Doctor" Thao.

Thành knelt beside the hospital bed. Thắng managed to untie the ropes binding his legs, then kicked the boy in the chest, sending him collapsing to the floor. “Brother Tám, you’re playing a trick on me! You tricked me into drinking alcohol, then took me to the mangrove forest, tied me up, and let the ants bite me! I’m a gentle boy, but I hate it when people betray their teachers and friends!” Thắng glared at his son, but in his drunken stupor, he mistakenly thought of him as some drinking buddy named Tám. Thành clutched his chest, suppressing the pain, and sat up, tears streaming down his face.

"Doctor" Thao rushed over, pinning Thang's legs to the bed while yelling at Thanh: "If you love him, give him a beating... If you love your father, tie him up securely. Untie him after the IV drip is finished. Tying him up loosely is useless!"

"I'm so scared of gout, Dad's arm hurts from straining," Thành mumbled.

"And you too, interfering in my business with Uncle Tam? Watch out, I'll sue you all the way to the province and the central government. I was out catching eels, why would you trick me into drinking with you and then tie me up?" Thang turned to curse "Doctor" Thao.

- You're quite something, aren't you? If you're so good, lie down, get an IV drip, and then we'll have a duel - "Doctor" Thao chuckled.

Phụng, who lives in Trường Tây, is a bit past the "youthful" age, also single, and has been caring for her mother who suffered a stroke two years ago. She sat up and tugged at "Doctor" Thảo's sleeve: "Come on, sir, he's having a seizure. Help the young man tie him up, we'll figure things out after the IV is finished."

With his hands and feet tied tightly to the bed frame, and a bedsheet draped across his chest, Thang curled up, struggling helplessly. The IV drip dripped slowly, drop by drop, like the slow, mournful sound of coffee in a filter in the middle of the night. Perhaps too exhausted, or perhaps the sedative was starting to take effect, Thang looked up at the ceiling, his eyes hazy:

My Nuong… My Nuong…! Oh moon, why such heartbreak… why was our love broken, hoping to forget… why does this sorrow weigh so heavily… whose shadow flickers on the flowing stream… my heart is torn apart…

My Nuong, why did we meet only to be separated forever… I did not dream of a gilded palace, nor did I dare to love a beautiful woman, but fate has twisted our destinies, leaving me to embrace this unrequited love for a thousand years…

I want to forget, but someone's image keeps appearing in my dreams; that tumor of love will merge with the deserted river... so that I may forever bid farewell to that love... only now do I understand the meaning of longing... and at this moment, my strength is failing... my trembling hands lift the bamboo flute, borrowing the wind to carry away all my sincere feelings...

Hearing the song, Thanh sobbed aloud, and through his sobs, he said to "Doctor" Thao: "My dad misses my mom! He used to sing this song with her!"

3. This season, the weather was scorching hot, and patients flocked to the Internal Medicine Department B, beds lined the entire corridor, mostly elderly people, including those with incurable diseases that Cho Ray Hospital and 115 Hospital had "sent" to the provinces to alleviate overcrowding. That night, almost everyone in the ward was awake; a few caregivers outside the corridor curiously peeked through the windows, but no one dared to scold Thang. Some guessed that in his everyday life, Thang was a hardworking man, spending his days tending to fields, cows, buffaloes, eels, and fish...

Perhaps that's true, because in his drunken stupor, besides the kick he took to get revenge on Uncle Tam for "betraying his teacher and friends," all that remained were fragmented recollections of village life and neighborly affection, followed by a pleading tone: "Untie me, so I can go down to the rice paddies and catch two eels to make sour soup for Thanh. It would be such a waste if he escaped; it's only about two kilos!"

The IV drip had just dropped its last drop, the nurse removed the bottle and told Thanh to hold onto the needle so the infusion could continue. "Doctor" Thao was sweating profusely as she helped Thanh untie the knotted ropes. As soon as he was "free," Thang jumped up: "I'm going home! I'm not playing with you anymore. Brother Tam, don't ever show your face at my house again to invite me for drinks!" Having drunk about 2 liters of alcohol, the tranquilizer seemed to have no effect on Thang.

Thành ran after his father, putting his arm around his shoulder: "Friends tease each other for fun, why get so angry? It's late, the riverside road is dark, why don't you stay at my house tonight? We can tell each other stories about Mrs. Kim Sen playing Lưu Kim Đính in the play 'The Swordsman's Dance to Rescue Thọ Châu."

"No, I'll remember my wife, I'll engrave her in my heart, in my mind. My wife, you have no right to mention her… She suddenly left me all alone, what joy is left in this life? After she passed away, I swear to myself, from now on I won't go to the Vam River anymore. I'll pull my boat ashore and leave it there; you can take it and use it if you like! Now I only know how to help Thanh raise the cows, and when I'm free, I drink to forget this boring life! Let me go home, why are you dragging me?" Thang, limping and unsteady on his feet, strained to drag Thanh to the door of the room.

After about ten minutes of struggling, they saw Thanh trying to help Thang back to bed. Thang climbed into bed and clung tightly to his father. His drunken stupor came and went. Now Thang recognized his son, but still insisted that the person who had tied him up earlier was his father, Tam. Restless, Thang tried to pull out the needle. Thanh grabbed his hand: "It's a butterfly, let it perch there for fun, maybe your mother will come home!"

"I miss… your mother!" Thang sobbed, tears welling up, his voice stammering.

4. Life is like a dream, so unpredictable! At midnight in the hospital, I occasionally hear cries, tearing through the already stifling summer night, making those of us who are easily moved feel a pang in our chests. In the emergency room, in just one night, three people passed away, including a very young, beautiful girl and an 18-year-old boy who asked to go home due to a severe head injury. In the Intensive Care Unit, Internal Medicine Department B, it seemed...

There's a "feng shui" corner (I think so), and in just a few days here, we've seen two cases of "gas bagging" (a ejection) being sent home. Living a life worth living is so difficult! Seeing the affection loved ones have for the deceased, you can sense how they lived their lives. To die of old age at nearly 90 isn't necessarily a blessing; perhaps those long, drawn-out days were a series of lonely groans, neglected by family, lying alone on a stretcher, emitting a foul odor.

Thành didn't explain why his mother died, only saying that she passed away quite suddenly after a stroke. His father was distraught for several hours, then suddenly rushed to the river, pulled the boat ashore, and called a tow truck to take it home. No one understood why Thắng swore never to go to the Vàm River again, but Thành knew that there was no one left to accompany him, rocking on the boat, removing fish from the patched nets; no one left to sing folk songs to him when he couldn't sleep.

"Did your mother used to travel with a theater troupe, Thanh?" I asked, hoping it was someone I knew, as I was acquainted with quite a few actors and actresses in Tay Ninh .

- Yes, I heard from my father that she traveled with many troupes. Her singing was sweet, but she wasn't "good at stage performances," so she only ever played the role of a maid. When the troupe went to Thanh Dien, somehow, after they left, she insisted on staying and going home with my father! He doted on her so much, never letting her do anything strenuous, and wouldn't let her go on the boat, fearing the sun would burn her skin. She pleaded with him, saying she wanted to go see the river and the water hyacinths, before he finally agreed.

These were just brief conversations as Thang dozed off in his hospital bed, without needing to be tied up, and he even forgot about his father, Tam, who had betrayed his teacher and friends. In this life, full of hardships, sometimes remembering and sometimes forgetting, a loyal and honest person like Thang turns out to be a good person!

"The word is from the general's wife."

The imperial sword is bestowed upon me as I set off on my journey.

I paced back and forth, anxiously awaiting news of him.

Five watches of the night, lost in dreams.

I anxiously await news from him.

Oh, my liver is throbbing with pain!

The road may be long, but bees and butterflies may still be there.

Please don't betray the vows of marriage.

I anxiously await news from you all night.

The days are long and weary, like the waiting wife's stone.

The wife anxiously awaits news of her husband.

How could you be so cruel?