By Ho Huy Son

Illustration by Le Hoang

My parents got divorced. No one on my father’s side would agree to adopt me, until my uncle and his wife urged my paternal grandparents to take pity on me. I ended up moving in with my maternal grandmother when I was five years old.

Grandmother’s small vegetable garden on the right side of the house provided us with enough food to sustain ourselves. Grandma worked hard from early morning to late in the afternoon, which kept her looking younger than others at her age. Her face had some wrinkles, but her teeth were still strong and straight, while her neighbour, Mrs Bom, had to pound her betel nuts to make them soft enough to chew. My grandma had been a single parent, raising her daughter alone after my grandfather died on the Cambodian battlefront. After my mother married and moved to a distant village, my grandma had to live on her own. Mother had many times taken me to visit Grandma, and each time we said goodbye to her, Grandma cried, taking my hand as if asking my mother to leave me behind with her. Mother would leave me with Grandma but only for a week or so, then I had to come back to my paternal grandparents.

Grandma received a monthly allowance from the Government that she could have used to support herself, but she would instead save it for my future education. She lived meagrely on money she earned from selling vegetables and raised one pig on the left over food after meals.

***

With her tender love and care, I grew stronger, matured and started going to school. I had lessons in the morning and then tended a buffalo for Mr Duc as a hired hand. Mr Duc had three children who had gone to work or study away from home, so he had asked my grandma if he could pay us 10kg of grain per month and feed me dinner every evening in exchange for my services. I did not want to eat in his house and insisted on eating with my grandma instead.

The first time I saw it, I was amazed at the river: it was modest in size, with tranquil, transparent water that looked so enticing. A new world opened up to me after I saw the river.

***

I was learning how to swim in the river by using a portion of a banana tree as a safety line. My friends Tai and Nhan laughed at me, but I did not pay attention to them. I found it so hard to swim, but I tried and tried until I was dead tired. Standing by the river and watching my friends cross it, I felt a great desire to be with them, swimming as well as they could. Still, I could at least stand in the river and splash water over my body to feel fresh and cool.

In the afternoon, the river would become muddy as people drained water from their fields. To take the buffaloes home, the other children would drive them into the river and ride on their backs as the animals walked through the shallow sections. My buffalo followed the rest into the river, and I had no choice but to follow my friends. The current was so strong, though, that I was swept into the middle of the river. Water flooded my throat and down into my belly as I flailed my arms and legs in the water. When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying on the dike, my head buzzing and heavy. I was surrounded by my friends Tai, Nhan and Bom, as well as others, who all looked worried about me. All of a sudden, from afar, I saw my grandmother running along the dike toward me. She was crying, "Oh God! Lanh, don’t leave me!"

I tried to sit up but could not, so I lay still, my eyes welling with tears.

After that narrow escape from death, I stayed home for a week under my Grandma’s care, still ill. I missed the river after a week without having the chance to plunge in to cool off. So after I had fully recovered, I ran to my friend Bom’s house and asked him to come with me to graze our buffalo. As soon as we had arrived at the river, we saw our friends Tai and Nhan swimming. This time, they all helped me learn to swim, paying more attention to me. Tai came up holding a dragonfly the size of his finger. The other boys suddenly grabbed me, though I struggled, and let the dragonfly bite my navel as they made a wish that I would quickly learn to swim. I was surprised to find that their wish came true, making me so overjoyed that I cried in the river.

Once I learned to swim, our games became more animated. We would swim so much that we all had red eyes by the end of each day. One day, they began competing to see who could dive the deepest into the river bed.

I grew up, dividing my time between the riverbank and my grandmother’s loving home. Between my love for her and the river, I hardly thought of my parents. My friends lived with their parents, while I had only my Grandma, but it didn’t bother me. I knew that I was greatly indebted to her for her benevolence.

***

When I was 15, my mother returned. I was neither happy nor sad to see her. Mother no longer had the appearance of a hardened rural woman; now she looked much younger, with smart clothes. I suddenly remembered what Grandma had told me: when I was very small, my mother would bathe me on hot summer nights to help me sleep. I wanted to rush over to embrace her and cry for the days I had not spent with her, but my legs felt rooted to the spot. So I just stood there, gazing at her. Grandmother said nothing, looking in silence at the gifts my mother had brought us. I could not understand why Grandma and Mother weren’t showing any affection after such a long separation.

Mother suddenly said, "Mum, I’ve come back home first of all to express my gratitude to you for raising my son Lanh. I also would like to ask your permission to take him to the city, where he can get a better education."

Grandmother was silent for a moment before she replied, "Your son Lanh has grown into a fine young man; you should let him decide for himself." Then she turned to me. "Lanh, what do you think?"

I paused for a moment, looking at my mother, and then said, "Let me think it over."

Then I ran to the river and sat there, my mind muddled. I threw a small stone into the river’s rushing waters. I had just finished my education in the village school, and I would continue my studies in the district school next year. The district school was somewhat far from home, and I knew my grandmother felt sorry that I would have to make the journey there and back every day. On the one hand, she wanted me to continue my education in the city so that I could have a good job later, but on the other she did not want to live without me by her side.

I knew my grandmother would support any decision I made, but I felt unable to make one. I wished I could feel as tranquil as the river, that I could be with my grandmother and my friends forever but also do what was best for my future.

***

I came back home, my face devoid of expression. My grandmother and mother were sitting there, waiting for me. I stood in silence by my grandmother’s side, mumbling, "Grandma, I’m sorry...". Then I burst out crying.

"Don’t be silly. What’s the use of crying? Men must be strong," my grandmother said softly, but I could hear her voice choking.

I was going to pack clothes, but mother said that it was not necessary because she would buy me new clothes and books and notebooks. I didn’t know what to do or how to say goodbye to my grandmother, whom I knew I would miss so much.

My mother nudged me over to my grandmother and told me to say goodbye to her. I mumbled some words, as my grandmother wiped her tears with her shirt sleeve. My vision became blurred as I thought about leaving my grandmother to live alone.

"Goodbye, Grandma. I’m going now," I said and followed my mother. My grandmother stood there looking at us.

Mother and I said nothing to each other while we walked. When we arrived at the river, suddenly I stopped in my tracks. All the memories rushed to me so powerfully: the river was inseparable from my childhood experience. It was here that I had played with my friends so many times, where I’d narrowly escaped death. In a way, the river had raised me, like my gentle grandmother. I felt frozen. I turned to mother.

"Please forgive me!"

Then I ran straight back to my grandmother’s house, leaving my mother there, surprised. I ran and ran, my head spinning in confusion. When I came to the entrance of the alley, I found my grandmother still standing there, looking sad. I rushed to embrace her, murmuring, "Grandmother!"

And then I cried and cried. My grandmother also cried, but I could see that the corners of her mouth were smiling.

Translated by Manh Chuong