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 about. It was the end of March, the last drizzle of the season!

Illustration: Nam Phong

- How is 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 wearily replied:

- No way.

The boy glanced at the girl and shook his head slightly. The girl bit her nails and blinked. No one said anything, the sound of the wind whispering on the lemon tree right next to the window could be heard. Then a sad voice called: “Boat! Come over here!” mixed with the sharp sound of oars cutting through the water from the Duềnh River echoed up, stretching out, and sounded on the Đá Mountain behind the village. The boy said:

- 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?” The boy said: “Let’s stay in the village. There’s 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 window 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 bank swayed in the rain, lingering forever. Then, at the beginning of spring, the girl suddenly left the village. The girl’s father said: “She’s a provincial official.” The villagers said: “What province or district? She wanders 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 plans to do big business 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. 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 their 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.

- You have nothing more to say? - The girl asked.

The boy curled his lips into a cold smile:

- Got a decent job on the street?

The girl looked up at the boy with her pretty face and said:

- You lie.

- Are you working for that house again?

- Not.

- Different house, what's different? Fun, right?

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

- And then? The boy seemed impatient.

- Then finally met Uncle Thoang.

- Who is it?

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

- So foggy!

- Yes, it's foggy!

- Then Mr. Thoang gave you a 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 them 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 flash of sadness crossed the girl's face. Her eyes were brimming 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 more, we haven't said anything yet.

The girl withdrew her hand:

- If you don't believe me, that's fine.

- I will tell you what Uncle Thoang asked you. See the drawing of Duenh River and Da Mountain on the table? Never mind, we'll think about it later. Someone is 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 pink, 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 his hand a lemon blossom, 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 since then, 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 trees on the Đá mountain will surely be ripe. When the sim trees are ripe, the birds will return...

Short stories byGerman Board

(Ha Tinh)