Drizzle

(Baonghean) - The girl turned to look out the window: the night was hazy, lightning flashed from time to time, illuminating the white raindrops flying around. It was the end of March, the last drizzle of the season!

Illustration: Nam Phong

- How's work up there? - The boy, who had been drawing something on a large piece of paper spread out in the middle of the table, asked.

The girl shivered as if cold, and replied wearily:

- No way.

The boy quickly looked at the girl, shaking his head slightly. The girl bit her nails, her eyelids fluttering. No one said anything, clearly hearing the wind whispering on the top of the lemon tree right next to the window. Then a sad voice called: "Boat! Come over here" mixed with the sound of the oars cutting the water from the Duềnh River, echoing up, stretching out, sounding on the Đá Mountain behind the village. The boy lowered his voice:

- It's raining and windy, but there are still passengers crossing the river?

The girl said:

- That's Hanh's oar...

They were from the same village, graduated from grade 12 in the same year and both failed the university entrance exam. Both of their families were poor and the exams were getting harder and harder. One day, the girl asked the boy: “Hanh has the boat rowing job her mother left behind, but what about us two?”. The boy said: “Then stay in the village. There is so much work to do in the village.” That day, they were sitting in the same place, it was drizzling and the lemon tree had fallen against the door frame. The girl reached out and picked a lemon flower, dropped it into the boy’s palm and said: “Should we stay home and grow lemons?”. A hint of sadness appeared on the boy’s face. The days of Tet passed in drizzle and sweet cold. The grass along the road down to the river swayed in the rain, stretching out forever. Then, at the beginning of spring, the girl suddenly left the village. The girl’s father said: “She is a cadre in the province.” The villagers said: “What province or district? She wanders around the streets!”. The son went to the city for two days, and when he returned, he said that the daughter was cooking and cleaning the house for a family from the village. Before Tet, the daughter returned, thinner and dressed more colorfully. The son said nothing as if the daughter had never left the village for the city. He respected his friend's choice. Sitting together, the son painted before the daughter's eyes big business plans on the land where they had lived for nearly twenty years, while the daughter looked into the distance, indifferent. Then on the full moon of the first lunar month, the daughter left again. Ms. Hanh rowed the boat to take the daughter across the river. Since then, no trace has been found. Life has many paths, each person chooses his own path. The son thought so, but his heart still felt empty. Many nights, hearing the sound of Hanh's oars cutting water from the river, the son would look through the window, anxiously. When he could no longer wait for the daughter to return, that night she suddenly appeared. I don't know why my heart is indifferent, I just want everything to be quiet.

- Don't you have anything more to say? - The girl asked.

The boy curled his lips into a cold smile:

- Got a decent job on the street?

The girl raised her pretty face toward the boy and said:

- You lie.

- Are you working for that house again?

- Not.

- So what's different about a different house? Is it fun?

- How... happy? - The girl repeated, her voice dragging out as if mocking herself, unbearably sad.

The boy tried to act friendly, his voice softened:

- So what happened?

- Looking for a job everywhere, everywhere I go, I get asked: Which school did you graduate from, what major, regular or open system, good or excellent graduation... My legs are broken.

- So what? The boy seemed impatient.

- Then finally met Uncle Thoang.

- Who is it?

- The person who gave birth to your grandfather is the son of the person who gave birth to your grandmother, who is your mother's mother...

- So foggy!

- Yes, it's foggy!

- Then Mr. Thoang blindly gave the job?

- He asked a question.

- What sentence?

- Question: "Are Duenh River and Da Mountain still in the village?"

The boy suddenly laughed, raising both hands and waving in the air.

The girl was angry:

- What's so funny? Well, I'm going home.

- Then go home. When will you go back to town?

A hint of sadness crossed the girl's face. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her lips were trembling, the corners of her mouth drooping.

The boy quickly held the girl's hand and said:

- Sit down a bit longer, we haven't said anything yet.

The girl pulled her hand back:

- Don't believe me.

- I'll tell you what Uncle Thoang asked you. See the drawing of the Duenh River and Da Mountain on the table? Never mind, we'll talk about it later. Someone's coming.

As soon as the boy finished speaking, the door opened and a slender girl, her hair covered with tiny white raindrops rushed into the room. Her fresh face caught the electric light and turned red, the raindrops on her hair also sparkled. Rubbing her head against the boy's chest, the girl chirped:

- The rain outside the river is heavier than in the village. But the wind is warm and fragrant. My hair is all wet.

The boy seemed embarrassed with the girl, and stepped back:

- Don't. Wet me.

The girl smiled and said:

- Come on, spread your hands!

The boy turned his palm up. The girl dropped into the boy's hand a lemon flower, its white petals soaked with rainwater.

The girl looked at the boy and Ms. Hanh rowing the boat, a feeling of emptiness welled up in her heart. “It’s been more than a year now, two Tet holidays, a lemon blossom season!” - The girl thought and quietly stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the rain drizzles on the lime leaves. With this rain, the Duềnh River will rise, and the sim on the Đá mountain will surely be ripe, when the sim is ripe, the birds will return...

Short story byGerman Board

(Ha Tinh)