Short story: The red marble

Illustration: Vu Thuy

The street is long and sad like a monochord. The two banyan trees listening to the music are probably a hundred years old. The rain plays the music with a million white fingers.

Sad streets give birth to sad markets. People are like banyan leaves. They come and go suddenly. They don't need the wind. They just land in the market for a while and then they scatter.

My house is near the market. I love the afternoon smoke. It's all dry Indian almond leaves and sugarcane bagasse. The smoke is sweet and pungent. Like the calls of poverty but purity. It rises silently with the afternoon mist...

Next to my house is Aunt Mai's house. Everyone confirms that she is the woman who curses the most viciously and melodiously in the area. 52 years have passed, but I still remember some of her curses:

- "I pray that you get bitten by a snake while you're in the field. You get struck by lightning at home. Your wife gets pregnant and gives birth to a crowbar. I pray that fire never burns in your kitchen. Your child can't speak and just bows his head and eats with the dogs...".

Why do the imprints on childhood take so long to fade? Hoa is 8 years old, very pretty, a good student, the daughter of Aunt Mai, in my class. How could a tall, skinny woman who drinks alcohol and smokes tobacco give birth to such a lovely little girl?

I secretly loved her with the love of an 8-year-old boy. That means whether there was a ripe guava or a sweet star fruit, I would save it for her. Sitting and watching her eat deliciously, a thought burned in my mind: Why did I give it all to her? I should have bitten half first and then given it to her so she wouldn't feel sorry. But why did she eat so greedily? Not letting her take a bite...

It seems that Uncle Mai hates Hoa. He often beats her. He only loves Hoa's younger brother Son. That guy has terrible asthma. Every time he has an attack, he wheezes, rolls around, and convulses like he has epilepsy. Uncle Mai was collecting duckweed to make medicine to cure asthma while muttering curses at her husband who is a geologist, who has gone to hell and never comes home. I heard Uncle Nam sweeping the market say that Hoa is not this husband's child, Uncle Mai can go and raise crops. I've only heard of raising potatoes and cassava. How can he raise people?

That day in class, Hoa cried the whole time, her face was swollen, with five finger marks clearly visible. Teacher Hien asked her and then cried. Hoa hugged Teacher Hien and sobbed: - Teacher. It hurts so much...

A flame of hatred burned fiercely inside me. I would not let Hoa be tortured like that. I would protect her like a hero in a fairy tale. That night, I took human excrement, wrapped it with bricks and stones, and threw it at Uncle Mai's roof. The next morning, the whole neighborhood had to listen to an unforgettable and terrifying song. Of course, the song was filled with the scent of my creation.

Met Hoa on the way to school, she said: - Don't do that again. I was just beaten up for no reason. And it stinks. No matter how much you wash it, it won't go away...

Suddenly heard that Uncle Mai sent Hoa to a mental hospital. I skipped lunch. I was so hungry in the afternoon. I ate again. Even if I was beaten to death, I still wouldn't believe that Hoa was mentally ill. She was such a good student. And pretty too. How could a mentally ill person be so pretty?

Then that Fall, I was cutting grass for the fish behind the house, suddenly Hoa jumped out from the bushes, grabbed my hand and burst into tears:

- Help me. I'm going to die in there. I just escaped. Mom's hunting me. I'm not crazy...

Hoa was very thin. Her shirt was torn. There were red marks on her wrists like those from a rope. Her mouth was still bleeding...

I looked up at the sky, looked around, there was only the bewildered sesame plants, the skinny banana trees, and the wind that came from somewhere, making me shiver, even though I was sweating. Trembling, I gave it the raw potato I had just picked, along with three marbles of green, red, and yellow, my most precious possessions. Hoa held it, bewildered, still crying and pleading:

- Save me. I'm going to die...

Suddenly a kick made me fall backwards. The next slap made Hoa's mouth spit out bright red blood. Uncle Mai dragged her away. Hoa cried and begged. The potato fell to the ground. Two marbles shattered under the heel of the man who was the doctor who came to take Hoa back to the camp. Tears blurred my vision. I could only see the blood-red marble rolling around, trying to catch up with Hoa's worn-out sandals but couldn't. Hoa turned back to look at me one last time. Why were her eyes like two red marbles?

Uncle Mai kicked me in the stomach. Since then, my chest has been aching. Many nights I dream of Hoa standing at the head of my bed, vomiting up red marbles and blood.

A few months later, there was news that Hoa had died of illness in a mental hospital. The news made my neighborhood buzz for half a day. It was wartime. Enemy planes were constantly bombing. So many people died. I got used to being near death. What was a crazy child dying of illness...?

But I don't believe that. I often sit by the river for hours. I lift my hand up and look at the water. My hand is so small. The river is wide and cold. Is my reflection in the water cold? So many questions like floating water hyacinths...

It has been 52 years since that Autumn. I have never forgotten. I read books. When I was a little older, I picked up a pen to write. Under the pages, there were often Hoa’s blood-red eyes and pleading voice. The red marble became an eye, looking at me painfully.

Many nights I dreamed of Hoa coming back. With white wings like an angel. So happy. Yes, fly away my friend. There will be a fairy tale world for you. Fly away safely...

This afternoon it's Autumn again. I went back to that village. So much has changed. Why can't I still see the red marble from years ago rolling down the slope? I hurriedly chased after it. Oh my. That marble has turned into the sun.

My friend. I owe you so much, please forgive me... It seems that Autumn smiles softly. Then the red sun marble rolls to a far away place...