Short story by Dang Huynh Thai from Viet Nam

 

Short story by Dang Huynh Thai from Viet Nam:

Year of birth: 1939

Hometown: Minh Quang Commune, KienXuong District, Thai Binh Province; Current residence: Hanoi City

Profession: Thirty years of journalism, Radio and Television Editor. Member of Vietnamese Journalists Association, member of QuangNinh Provincial Literature and Art Association.

Main published works:Many scripts for the documentary film and feature films; Many short stories; Special Novel "Earth and Blood" published by Vietnamese Writers’Association and already translated into English; Many short scripts and autographed reports in magazines and online newspapers...

His Short story: Memories of human life

Author: Dang Huynh Thai

(Translated into English by Hanoi Female translator)

Today was the thirteenth day of a month-long social distance period to prevent the Covid-19 pandemic. It also meant that for thirteen days, my grandmother had not earned any money, low-class scrap dealer was also unemployed. All social activities were at a standstill. The familywas out of rice, out of money. Last night I ate the last bread that my grandmother kept in the bag hanging behind the door.

Mrs.Xoanwasnext door, did not know from where heard the news, late night rushed and whisperedto grandmother’s ear: "On CauGiay area, people are given rice for free, tomorrow you and I will go and ask for one. People of this Outer Areawill go together" "Really? so blessed". So, the whole night she did not sleep, just waited for morning. She got up early, pulled me up to prepare to go with her, hoped to get two packs. I said: "People don't give it, only one person in each house can get, and it's not allowed to gather in large numbers". "Well, go ahead, if not, it is fine."

I walked along with grandmother, sometimes I had to run, today she walked so fast, trying to keep up with Ms. Xoan and some women in the neighborhood. The road from the Red River Outer Areato CauGiaywasfive or six kilometers, but it was so empty and no traffic, it was easy to get there.Called to be in Hanoi but we were not Hanoians. All of the Outer Area, Middle Area, Inner Area ... were people from all over the world of illegal residence. The technical infrastructure, water drainage system and the clean water supply were inadequate, and the houses were poor in temporary conditions.

My father left home, went upstream to trade potatoes and dried cassava, not making much profit, but he was guilty of selling banned goods, so he was imprisoned. After got out of prison, he went to work as a construction worker, so called it, but my father and a few others just repaired the "tiger cages" in apartments at Hanoi dormitory. Seeing that can do business, my father returned to his homeland to bring my grandmother to live in here.

The Outer Area at that time was very deserted, the whole family built a temporary tent by scrap materials to make a "tiger cage" including scrap iron, cut cardboard, paperboard .... then my father got married and gave birth to me in this "mansion". At that time, Hanoians were also poor, so garbage was just garbage, nothing left to pick up. My grandmother and mother collected pig and chicken dung... in the familiar "tiger cages" that my father had built.

With these animal dung, the deserted area became a fertile field. The house was full of vegetables and fruits, especially sweet potatoes to feed the pigs. It must be said that it was our golden time. In the same days, in the homeland, it redistributed the land to the peasants. My family had left home for a long time, so they could not divide the land.

Seeing that it can do business here, my father said "no need". Actually, what was the need, he did not think about, having a reputation of living in Hanoi, but not a Hanoian, no identity papers, no ownership of real estate, was homeless. Suddenly a disaster happened, my father fell from the sixth floor, while working on the "tiger cage".

The owner of the house did not dare to stand up to accept responsibility because the expansion was too large, the old dormitory wall could not stand the collapse. It was heartbreaking, everything was zero, my dad took zero to the grave. Less than forty-nine days later, my mother also died suddenly. Due to hard working, so mother had a heart attack without realizing it. I was an orphan when was only six or seven years old.

As time went by, Hanoi expanded, built a smart city, high-rise buildings as mushrooms. Industrial parks at home and abroad were built everywhere. The rich bought apartments and luxury villas. The poor rushed to the Inner Area, the Outer Area to build houses, mixed and chaos. Lots of the land my parents have reclaimed had been taken by others, my grandmother and I had no right to interfere, so had to huddle in this dilapidated hut.

In new period, Hanoians no longer raised pigs or raised quails, and my grandmother lost her job to collect bird dung. The higher life, the more garbage there was, everything was new, beautiful and colorful, all kinds of Western, Chinese, even people throw away computers, televisions, refrigerators, beds, tables. sofas on the street... and everything was new to the poor.

My grandmother picked up all to sell it for money to feed me. So happy that I got the laptop and the new textbook, the suit was a bit wide but the color was youthful. All of my friends loved it.

It has been thirteen days that was not allowed to leave the house, especially the elderly. They even said on TV "Please, ladies and gentlemen, stay at home so we can go to war". Then what else can we do? Money ran out, rice ran out, legs had to crawl. We went to the automatic rice distribution point for free. Someone gave the name ahead of the 4.0 revolution period - "Rice ATM" and added a touching slogan: "Share the love - Leave no one behind".

The yard of a cultural house was temporarily used as a queuing place, with each person separated by two and a half meters in the square box already drawn. It was fun to eyes, like a game of chessmenin village festivals. My grandmother and I each occupied a box at the end, people were already standing all.

Seeing that my grandmother was old and slow, a volunteer in a blue shirt with a red bandana ran over to lead her to the first box. The automatic "ATM" rice machine just pressed the foot on the pedal and the rice would flow into the bag just enough for three kilos. It was so easy, but my grandmother struggled long and still couldn't do it. The volunteer earlier ran over to help her, in a flash she had three kilos of rice in her hands. Excitedly walking over to me, grandmother whispered:

- You stand here, I'll go to the next line.

- No way, grandmom! wait outside and then come back.

I quickly pointed her to the gate.

At that moment, on the other side of the yard, there was a lot of controversy, and a volunteer was trying to explain to a woman in a red dress, riding an expensive scooter:

- Only give to each person once. You took it

- I took it for my mother, who is too old and can't walk.

- Yes, please leave your address, we will ship to your house.

- Such trouble.

- No, sister. Our goal is: "Whoever in need, take it, whoeverin good, give it". All are voluntary, attached love, please sympathize!

The woman scrambled to get on the motorbike, leaving no address, got out of the gate.

Having done my part, I hastily pulled grandmother out of the crowd. She went back and mumbled:

- It's nonsense!

The two of us happily brought rice home.

At dinner, when my grandmother picked up the rice bowl, she put it down again, choking and bursting into tears. She cried, really cried like a baby. I was afraid, so I sat next to her and caressed her back. Wiping her tears, she said:

- It's a story long time ago.

- It's over, what are you thinking about?

I told her to be happy but knowing that tears can only partially relieve but not completely dissolve the great loss that has been deeply imprinted in the mind of the elderly. I urged:

- Eat, grandma.

- Yes, I do.

And after a few pieces, she put down the bowl again, and told the story of the old days:

- That period of hunger in 1945, most of our people in hometown died, some of families died all. My family, grandparents, parents, siblings, were six people. Did not understand why God allowed me to survive, I was six or seven years old at that time, it was very difficult.

- So how did you manage to live today?

- Like duckweed drifting on the river. God gave mylife,the will save me. Just like today, so many people without jobs, lack of money, lack of food because of the pandemic, someone stood up to help rice.

The story of seventy-five years ago, everyone in Vietnam knows, everyone has learned; but my grandmother was an insider, so every time she recalled, in a slow voice, choked with tears, welled up in her eyes:

- At that time in our village, there was Mr. Ba Thuan who worked as a medicine man, so called as Healer Thuan, gentle and virtuous, did not oppress or exploit anyone. He also did not take money to treat the poor, so he cooked a pot of porridge every day and placed it at the crossroads of the village. Those who were hungry could eat it.But then there was too many deaths, every family ran away, worried about eating, worrying about funerals, hunger continued to cling to poor families, did not have anything to eat. Every day, I went to pick up banana tubes, Centellaasiaticaand eat whatever it could.Seeing this, Healer Thuan poured out all rice to distribute. The gate of his house was wide opened, and women, children, and adults poured into his yard. The tenants, servantssharedtheir works for help. HealerThuan's grandparents stood on the porch and called names in the order…

At this point, she choked up and could no longer speak. I was silent for a long time before asked her:

- Then you didn't come that day.

- Yes, but I sat in the corner of the garden for a long time, hearing my name called, I couldn't get up, the house was all dead and I was alone, both scared and sad, I just sat and cried, my body was only bones and skin, my limbs were shaking. Healer Thuan called for the second time, and then I crept closer and whispered "Here I am, dear sir” – “Yeah, come up here”.Mrs. Thuan quickly helped me up and hugged me. Like a child being loved by her mother, I burst into tears in her arms. Since the day the whole family died, I had no more tears to cry, so much pain was suppressed to this moment of love. Healer Thuan shook my head and said: “Don't cry anymore, you're lucky to be alive. Stay here, I will raise you, your whole family were died, poor you, I will let someone cook a bowl of rice and worship for the dead”. He turned to tell everyone “Tonight all go to the temple to pray for peace for the unjust souls to be released and reborn in the pure land”.

She paused, silent, late night, so quite. The Outside Area was already far from the noisy and bustling neighborhoods, the days of social distance was even more quiet. It was raining outside, sometimes the wind from the Red River breezing so cold.

I put on an extra blanket for grandmother, although it was worn out, she liked to wear it everywhere. I knew she had a talent for long-term memory and good at storytelling. Having heard her once, I still wanted to hear it again, each time new details so the story seemed to have just happened so fascinating. Even though it was late at night, I still wanted to listen.

- Then what, please go on.

- From hunger to cholera epidemic. The cholera epidemic was even more horrible, it was easy to die. Healer Thuan once again saved people, made countless medicinal herbs that were distributed everywhere, and cured hundreds of people. I went to pick leaves to make medicine and was loved by Mrs. Healer Thuan. My fate was also lucky.

She smiled shyly, then continued:

- I don't know how but I fell in love with the big and strong farmer like a fat buffalo, his skin was black, eating a lot, he was lying on a pile of straw, in the corner of the kitchen or the buffalo barn and sleeping. Then the two of us became husband and wife. Mrs. and Mr. Thuanalso cut the land along the river to live and work as a raft puller.

- What's a raft? Can I make one on the other side of the river?

I interrupted and asked her:

- Are you going to follow your grandfather? People won't let you do it, water of Red River flows very fast, only rafts can be built in the tributaries.

Grandmother said softly as if only she could hear:

- I was so scared, every time I saw a raft, I am fainted.

- Why is that? I asked hastily.

- It's like this, that year it was at night, it was very stormy, the rain poured down heavily, the river water flooded the fields, the wind pulled down the hooves and swept your grandfather away.

She fell silent again, and I crossed my arms on knees, bending down to listen to the rapid breathing of her heart.

- At that time, I carried your father and sat on the boat. The boat had broken anchors, without sails nor rudder, so it drifted on the vast water tank, drifting to some where I did not know. When woke up, I found myself lying in a strange house, I screamed for husband and son, then people gently told me that the boy was being fed on the other side. Glad my son was alive, I burst into tears.

The villagers rushed around looking for your grandfather everywhere, all in vain. I didn't know where to go, my parents' relatives were not there, so everyone took care of me and helped.

It was until your father grew up and returned to the hometown. I also wanted to return to thank Mrs. Healer Thuan for raising me during the difficult years.

That benefactor, planted in my heart a faith about the good things. Love and tolerance presented in my heart an eternal truth. Searching and searching long time, I found out that Mr. Healer Thuan was dead. During the land reform, he was accused of being a landowner that was executed. Heartbroken, frustrated a few months later, Mrs. Healer Thuanalso had a seizure and died.

I stood up and asked her:

- Why such unfair?

She said softly:

- Luckily. If I was in the village at that time, people would also consider me as the adopted daughter of the landowner, eating happily, wearing luxury clothes, sitting cool and eating golden bowls.

- Life is too complicated, isn't it?

There was a knock on the door, I just opened the door when Mrs. Xoan pushed in, before she could sit down, she said a long sentence:

- Grandma, I'm back now. In CauGiay, it doesn't give it twice, I can get it twice when you go to Lang area. I ended up and went to another place and all was fifteen kilos. So I sold ten kilos to buy meat for the kids, it's been so hard these past few days that I don't have any fat, it's expensive but try to buy it temporarily. Some women who sell meat too expensive, keep raising the price quickly, they said: go to buy cheap on the TV. So bad! I have a slice of good meat, I give it to you. Come tomorrow, grandma, I'll call.

- If you have a heart, I will accept it. As for tomorrow, come on, wecan eat for ten days enough. Old people can not eat much. The situation is about to end, it's okay to go to work.

- Well then, I'll go back to sleep.

- Come back

When Mrs. Xoan came back, the two of us were whispering stories.

- Human life is like a leaf in late autumn. Once a month, I went to the temple and the monks often lectured on the Buddha's teachings "Life is impermanent. All things are impermanent, sentient beings are impermanent, and human bodies are also impermanent. We are all impermanent, If there is only a moment of adversity, the soul can leave the body, but most people live in a state of racing for fame, lust, and money, extremely complex and chaotic society…"

- No need to act as Mrs. Xoan

I added:

- The house is full, her husband works as a road and bridge worker, with a regular monthly salary.

- People's hearts are very variety, my dear

My grandmother continued:

- Do you know that there was shortage of anything during the subsidy period, all distributed, from rice to tofu, meat sugar... I and son were given priority to set up a roadside shop, shaded from the sun with a sheet. We sold powdered candy and rolled tobacco, were given each month five kilos of rice.For each rice buying, I had to line up the night before, hold a place with a brick, a torn hat or put my name on a list. Five kilos of rice, half crying and half laughing. The rice was moldy or lumpy.

- Those were the eighties of the last century

I pretended to be knowledgeable via watching TV:

- Even now, the twenty-first century still doesn't run out of bad people and hard life. Yesterday, the radio said, many the rich cheated in exporting rice. While people are lack of rice, they hid thousands of tons, increasing the price to make a profit.

The air was down, the two of us were silent, the wet night weighed on the rickety roof like the vicissitudes of life covered on her thin shoulders. Life was suffering, even when everything was fine, that was the common human psychology that any of us have experienced. We were living with impermanence, but we did notrealize the truth of impermanence.

We can only feel impermanence in the body when they have passed. We seemednot to care about the meaning of life. Let's look deeply into the living, then we would see very clearly. Anything such as fortune, fame, career, it is only huge zero number.

To break the silence, I quietly asked grandmother:

- Grandma! Is there still a scene of distribution, queuing to buy dirty rice and receiving "ATM" rice anymore?

- The sun sets and then rises, not only in the East, but also in the souls of us.

Also published https://homouniversalisgr.blogspot.com/