Remote Island…

(Baonghean) - Tonight is a sleepless night. Nha lies restlessly on the cramped folding bed placed in the yard of the boarding house with many messy, flickering, and intermittent thoughts amidst the sound of mosquito swatting. Nha thinks about the trip early tomorrow morning to Khanh Hoa and soon he will say goodbye to the mainland for the island. Nha can't remember how many such lonely, tireless trips he has made in his journalism career.

But this time there was something different, as if it was both sadness and excitement stirring Nha's heart. Gently looking into the dark room with the door still wide open, Nha smelled the scent of Bin's skin. Oh my, the fragrant skin of a baby's milk easily soothed people's anger. It seemed that Nha heard his young wife sigh, but he could not comfort or console her. It was not because Nha did not love her, it was simply because his heart had withered and tired after many years. And Vy was always sulking like a child...

Nha is almost 40 years old, and has been working in journalism for more than ten years, enough for him to see his life becoming more and more wrinkled. Having worked for four newspapers and been exposed to all kinds of joys, sorrows, and sorrows in life, Nha has now realized that he writes for the press because it is his job, not his passion as he thought. When he was still in school, Nha thought that journalism was too idealistic. Oh my! Now that he thinks back, Nha feels his face burning with shame.

Honestly, perhaps every writer has been as embarrassed as Nha at least once. Because life is not a lesson in a lesson plan. Sometimes the pen in your hand has to be held so tightly that it bleeds because you don’t want others to bend it. Sometimes, after finishing an article, Nha curses himself for writing this boring thing just for a few royalties. Writing complicated things to entertain readers, to sell more newspapers, to find advertising contracts…

Where did the initial good ideal go? Why did every morning only see the burden of food and money weighing down on the pen? Nha was very tired, like a weary plowman facing a vast dry field. Many times he thought about quitting his job, but what could he do if he quit? Then Nha turned to blame himself. It must be because he was weak and incompetent, all his colleagues needed to eat to live, but there were also people who did that job very well. Or maybe he had not found a suitable place to work and contribute. Or maybe Nha had made a mistake somewhere, in some link?

But Vy didn't understand, thinking that he was happy during his wandering trips, so she kept criticizing him. Like tonight, when she heard that he would follow a group of reporters to the island to capture the real situation in the East Sea during these turbulent days. Vy had sulked and skipped dinner, turned her back and cried, ignoring her crying child. But now lying here thinking about tomorrow's waves, she suddenly felt so sorry for Vy. As women, her friends were happy and carefree, while Vy suffered because she married him. Knowing this, Nha would rather stay single. Nha's eyes stung when she thought about her anger last night. Nha had slapped her child hard because she was angry with her wife. The child cried out and fell into his mother's arms. Just now, Nha had heard her child sobbing in grievance. It must be painful. Nha was so mean...

Nha guessed Vy couldn't sleep either, partly because of the heat, partly because of thinking too much. Mai Nha had left, well, he couldn't not go because it was both a duty assigned by the editorial office and an honor. Because there were many other colleagues who earnestly asked to go but the collective had chosen him. Nha was also very tired from walking, but journalism was the job he had devoted himself to. Wasn't it because Vy loved Nha's job at first that she fell in love with him? Nha's heart sank, heavy and numb with messy and crumpled thoughts. He stood up gently, walked into the house and lay down next to his wife and children. Nha felt Vy's shoulders shaking, gently hugged his wife's back, and comforted her with all his compassion:

- It's late… go to sleep.

- What time do you leave tomorrow?

- I'll leave early so I won't wake you and your mother. I'll be back soon, don't think too much and get sick.

Vy turned around and rubbed her head against Nha's chest. The night air was cooler, perhaps suitable for a deep sleep after a hot day. Cu Bin lay down and slept soundly after an hour of crying.

* * *

Nha was on the ship carrying reporters to Truong Sa. It seemed like he was a bit nervous because of the waves or because the mainland had retreated and disappeared into the vast sky and water. Nha's colleagues all seemed to be full of enthusiasm for this reporting trip. That was right, because the situation in the East Sea had been very hot since China illegally placed the HD 981 drilling rig in Vietnam's exclusive economic zone. They were all key reporters for the newspapers, they were full of enthusiasm even though they were no longer young, they made Nha find himself many years ago. Oh my! Nha wanted to live happily like the red flag with yellow star fluttering in the middle of this vast ocean. All the worries had been left on the mainland, Nha had to take the opportunity to rekindle his heart. At this time, Nha, like many other colleagues, only cared about one thing: following and reporting on the situation in the East Sea with real photos, accurate comments, and practical information. Only when coming here can one fully understand the bravery, calmness, and cleverness of the coast guard as well as the courage of the fisheries inspectors to stick to the sea in the face of all invasion plots. They have lived as resiliently as the waves in the face of all dangerous storms. They nurture their faith and love even though tomorrow they may have to lie in this deep sea.

The fishing control ship numbered 9296 carried Nha and many other reporters to the HD 981 rig. After being attacked by the Chinese ships, there was a fierce water cannon battle. From the ship's cabin, Nha could feel the terrible water pressure from the water cannon pouring down. Not to mention the previous strong and direct hit on the ship's side that made everything shake. Nha felt something was wrong, his mind was dizzy with each sway of the ship's side. His colleagues' voices rang in his ears with short, decisive questions, full of courage and without fear. In just a moment, many memories passed through Nha's mind. He remembered the train trip more than ten years ago, when he was just starting out in the profession. He and his colleagues went to write an investigative report on the situation of illegal train tickets when they only had enough money in their pockets to buy tickets and three tough loaves of bread.

The train derailed when it hit a truck trying to cross the railway. A strong impact caused Nha to hit his head on the window. His mind was in pain, confused, and dizzy, as if he was about to faint. When he regained his composure and looked for his colleague, the two of them hugged each other because they were still alive. Nha remembered the time he was on duty and was thrown into the middle of the highway when it was pitch black and vehicles were rushing by. Or the times he followed the forest rangers through the dark forest, startled at midnight by the sound of gunfire. When he came out of the forest, he saw a haggard face and a beard like a beast, then he breathed a sigh of relief knowing he was still alive. Nha had been beaten up so many times in his job, but it seemed he had never felt as dangerous as this time in the middle of the sea.

The ship was hit hard again, the impact knocked Nha from his memory back to reality. It was very possible that the glass would break and the risk of casualties would be very high. Nha was not afraid of danger and death. The vague thing that scared Nha seemed to be on land. Last night Nha received a text message from Vy saying that Cu Bin had a high fever. Lying awake all night, looking out at the vast ocean, Nha suddenly thought that maybe he wouldn't come back. How would his wife and children live then? Now that thought returned but Nha was absolutely not afraid. Nha saw himself from many years ago, more determined and steadfast. Well, maybe Nha wouldn't come back...

The ship shook violently again, pushing Nha forward. For some reason, Nha thought of the houses looming behind the banyan trees. The households living here were thrifty with every handful of soil, every green vegetable, every sip of fresh water. They lacked many things, but human love was always abundant. The laughter of children mixed with the sound of the waves and returned to people's hearts an endless peace. Nha could sit for hours listening to the i-teach class or watching the fishing boats come ashore after a night of casting nets. The burly men smiled with the salty taste of the sea, not forgetting to share with the soldiers some of the fruits they had.

Suddenly Nha thought how rich they were. Looking at them living, thinking about them, Nha suddenly felt small. The little hardships of Nha's life were nothing compared to theirs. Yet day and night Nha tormented and blamed himself. Nha grimaced and drooped like a tree lacking water. Nha made the family atmosphere more suffocating and gloomy. Has Nha ever tried to live a life of self-sacrifice like them? Journalism gave Nha the opportunity to travel and live. Like right now, in the middle of a dangerous island, Nha suddenly felt the fire of passion inside him being rekindled as if it had never died down. Nha suddenly missed his young wife and his innocent child, wanting to reach across the ocean and hug them in his arms...

The voice of his colleagues was still firmly in his ears. The brave sailors were still standing steadfastly at the bow of the ship, using water cannons to block the enemy ship. The confrontation that had lasted for more than an hour had finally ended, and the damage had been counted. The precious photos had been taken, the information was available, and all the wandering thoughts had long since left Nha's mind. Nha only thought about the urgent task of completing the article to send back to the mainland, where so many people were waiting. Among them were Nha's wife and children...

Vu Huyen Trang