Returning to the stream of memories

The clouds in the sky were still heavy with rain, and in the distant mountains, Thai sensed that the gloom hadn't dissipated, even though five days had passed since the floods. He and his colleagues headed towards the village. A few wisps of smoke flickered behind the window.

From Hanoi , the car traversed a long and bumpy twenty-kilometer stretch of rough, eroded roads before stopping at the entrance to Binh Hoa village. Binh Hoa still bore the scars of the devastating flash flood: more than a dozen houses had been swept away, leaving only scattered rubble. Thai's heart ached. He looked around, inquired about the villagers' well-being for a while, then got back in the car and turned left a few hundred meters further to reach the commune committee. For over a decade, the committee headquarters and the secondary school had been built on higher ground, eliminating the risk of landslides. But over a hundred households in Binh Hoa still lived in low-lying areas, suffering from flooding almost every year – sometimes reaching the foundations, other times the roof tiles. Now they had to find a safe location, high enough to avoid flooding but also safe from flash floods. It was a difficult task!

The village chairman, with his rough, broad arms and heavy, leaden voice, enthusiastically poured water for the villagers and briefly explained the flash flood. Thanks to their ability to "hear" the sounds from the mountainside, the villagers were able to proactively inform each other and move to higher ground, thus avoiding any casualties. The school, nestled against the Bình Hòa mountainside, had become bustling again. Mentioning the school, Thái suddenly felt a thorn in his heart. He whispered, "I'm sure the teacher with the big, dark eyes is still teaching there."

Thai met the commune chairman about five years ago during a volunteer trip; at that time, the chairman was the official in charge of culture and social affairs. He also met Luyen on that trip. That year, Binh Hoa was isolated, with rising water levels due to the unrepaired dam in the downstream village, causing severe damage to the entire commune. Thai enthusiastically drove a truck carrying food and clothing donated by his company to share with the villagers. The water level reached the schoolyard, but in Binh Hoa, it was up to the rooftops. Luyen, a teacher at the school, acted as the liaison to receive the food and distribute it to the villagers. After the trip, Thai called Luyen a few times to chat about work and their hometown, but then realized things weren't going anywhere, so he stopped. His busy work schedule, constantly on the move, made him forget that he had ever known someone like that. She's probably married now.

A few months ago, the province hired a survey team, but they haven't found a suitable place to resettle the residents yet. Now, the matter cannot be delayed; who knows how many more storms and floods will strike…

***

On their shoulders, Thai and his colleagues carried total stations, some electrical resistance measuring devices, GPS... If they found a suitable place to build houses, he would report to his superiors to bring in drilling equipment. Two local officials led the way, along with two villagers familiar with the terrain, carrying food and water. At midday, Thai and his colleagues could breathe a sigh of relief when the team confirmed a place that, while not too large, was fairly flat and suitable for housing the villagers. From this spot, they could clearly see a small stream called the "Remembering Stream." Since ancient times, the lyrical beauty of the Remembering Stream, with its ancient tea trees lining both sides, remained lush green year-round, beautifying this land and leaving a lasting impression on anyone who visited. The villagers changed the name from "Remembering Stream" to "Remembering Stream" to make the stream more romantic. Later, as bustling tourist destinations attracted people, few still knew about the beauty of the Remembering Stream…

Late in the afternoon, as he passed the school, he tried to look for Luyen. A villager accompanying him asked, "Do you know anyone here?" After learning that Ms. Luyen was still working and unmarried, he went to the back of the school, to the teachers' dormitory nestled under the tall, majestic ironwood trees. Luyen was stunned when she saw him step onto the porch with a bright smile. She exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Thai, is that you?"

Thai was happy that she still remembered him. He was even happier that the teachers' living conditions had improved. As for Luyen, her eyes were still big, black, and clear, just as they were when he first met her. Her enthusiasm and passion that day reminded him of a resilient wild flower, diligently blooming and spreading its fragrance in the storm. The mist descended quickly, and the chill brought the night down. The simple yet warm meal, prepared by Luyen and her colleagues, was a friendly gathering. By the fire, Mr. Truong's guitar playing was so captivating that the flames seemed to dance and cheer him on. When he accompanied Luyen on her guitar as she sang "The Song of the Mountain," the lyrics, full of emotion, stirred Thai's heart. In this mountainous region, people inspire each other, uplifting one another, and these small, home-grown cultural evenings warm many cold nights…

***

Thai's work is finished. Now, new constructions are underway. Many households want to move their old stilt houses to a new location to preserve and maintain their local culture. The authorities have agreed. The workers are diligently working day and night. And Thai will once again go wherever his agency assigns him. Now, his heart is filled with longing for Luyen and those eyes. Eyes that, in one of Thai's dreams, illuminated the moonlit night by the stream of memories. For years, his parents have urged him to get married, but his heart has grown cold towards women, as if all male and female emotions have been drained away. It's all because of the girl from the city, named Han, who has scratched his heart. Thai believed and hoped in their relationship throughout four years of university and two years after graduation, thinking it would last. He thought they would be together for life. Thai introduced Han to his family, but then had to endure the pain of betrayal. Han was a "two-timing" woman, cheating on Thai. That day, he climbed to the rooftop of the tallest building in the city, questioning the wind, the clouds, and life itself for throwing him into such a cruel predicament. But the wind answered him with a chilly whistle. The clouds remained white, and below, the stream of people continued its struggle for survival.

The wound followed him to many places, and somewhere, even amidst fragrant flowers and sweet fruits, his heart could not heal. His parents were getting older, hoping he would settle down and start a family, but whenever the topic of marriage came up, he would change the subject. He immersed himself in projects, surveys, and measurements, and felt his heart had become hardened. Because he was so busy, at times he found his busyness too… monotonous. Nothing special.

He's changing now. He's changing Luyen too, and the stream of memories is becoming more vibrant. Every Saturday, Thai comes to visit her. Colleagues are happy for Luyen and hopeful about this relationship. They encourage the two of them, but few know that she's had past difficulties and is hesitant about marriage. That night, the moon hung high on the mountaintop, the stream of memories gurgled, and the cool air mixed with the mountain air stirred the hearts of Thai and Luyen. The plants and trees witnessed them exchanging a kiss. The sounds of the mountain night overwhelmed their emotions, as if wanting the sweetness to last forever.

***

Life was harsher than Thai had imagined. The company where he worked was facing numerous problems related to debt collection. His salary and bonuses were insufficient to cover the ever-increasing cost of living. What would become of them after marriage, with one living in the city and the other in the high mountains, hundreds of kilometers apart? There were also whispers among the students that Thai would take their teacher to the city after the wedding, and many feared losing their young, enthusiastic teacher. Some students didn't even greet Thai when they saw him, even though they had previously held him in high regard. Thai discussed the situation with Luyen to find common ground. If she followed him to the capital, Luyen would have to leave her hometown, the place she had always longed to contribute to. And would her career be successful after moving to the city? If she stayed behind, Thai would still be struggling with his work, wouldn't that be a case of "the husband and wife being constantly separated"? So many questions and obstacles loomed over their marriage. Thai asked his parents, and himself, what decision should he make?

The wedding took place while Thai was still burdened with conflicting emotions. He still tried to arrange his work, taking buses from Hanoi every weekend to be with his wife. He was happy to see the new houses in Binh Hoa resembling blooming flowers amidst the mountains and forests. People were cheerful, children happily went to school, and the Nho stream flowed steadily, blending into the rhythm of life. When Luyen became pregnant, Thai said, "Why don't you come live with my parents so they can take care of you?" Luyen shook her head. Thai didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't live like this anymore. Who could untangle their relationship?

***

Gray clouds hovered over the mountain slopes. Thai drove to pick up his wife and take her back to live with her parents in the provincial town. The students and villagers were all saddened. They all shared the same worry: that Ms. Luyen would never return. But Thai looked at everyone, then up at the high mountains, and promised: "I've already applied for a transfer back to the province. After her maternity leave, Ms. Luyen will still be teaching here. Don't be sad."

Hearing those words, Luyen's heart warmed. She didn't know that Thai would be transferring jobs to the province to be closer to his wife and children. But she believed he wasn't joking. As she got into the car, she whispered, "Do you remember what you said to the Stream of Memories?" Thai smiled, "I remember. You and I will live together with the Stream of Memories." Luyen's eyes lit up with a smile; looking out the car window, she felt happy.

Source: https://baophapluat.vn/ve-cung-suoi-nho.html