Năm Tháng Ngày Xưa... - Hai bờ giấy

NGUYỄN KHẮC PHƯỚC

NĂM THÁNG NGÀY XƯA
Hồi ký của Thy Lệ Trang
Dịch sang tiếng Anh: Nguyễn Khắc Phước

Sau khi dọn nhà về Biên Hòa, việc đầu tiên là ba xin cho tôi đi học. Từ nhà tôi đến trường tiểu học Tân Thành khoảng hai cây số. Ba dẫn tôi đi bộ để tôi có thể nhớ đường về nhà một mình. Thời đó nhà cử̉a thưa thớt - xa xa mới có một căn nhà, vẫn còn một ít nhà lợp mái tranh, vách đất. Hai bên đường là những luống mạ trải dài như tấm thảm màu xanh xinh xắn. Không khí thật bình an, trong lành. Ba rất thích phong thổ nơi này và tuyên bố sẽ ở đây cho tới ngày nhấm mắt. Thày Hiệu trưởng Huỳnh văn Rao tiếp ba và tôi tại lớp hai trong giờ dạy học - vì thày vừa là Hiệu trưởng vừa là thày giáo. Ba xin cho tôi vào lớp hai .

Vì công việc làm ăn thất bại, ba phải bán nhà ở Sài Gòn và đưa gia đình về Vĩnh Long theo lời mời của một người bạn. Nhưng chỉ được vài tháng cho là không thích hợp, ba lại đưa cả nhà về Sài Gòn. Sau đó ba nghe lời bác tôi đi về Biên Hòa. Di chuyển nhiều lần như thế nên sự học của tôi bị gián đoạn. Tôi chưa học hết lớp một. Tuy nhiên, nhờ học ở nhà nên tôi biết đọc và làm toán rất giỏi. Ba trình bày với thày Hiệu trưởng và khoe thêm về tôi: "Con bé còn thuộc làu thơ bà Huyện Thanh Quan nữa đấy." Thày nhìn tôi cười. Thật lạ, lúc này tôi không cảm thấy nhút nhát mà còn dạn dĩ hơn bình thường. Tôi đã đọc một đoạn văn thật rõ ràng và làm vài bài toán theo yêu cầu của thày. "Khá lắm." Thày nhận tôi vào lớp hai. Ba chờ tôi vào chỗ ngồi và yên chí tôi không khóc, ba mới ra về. Lúc này tôi mới nhận thấy cả lớp đang nhìn tôi. Chắc lúc đó mặt tôi trông rất ngố. Dảy bàn con trai yên lặng, chỉ nghe tiếng xầm xì phía bên con gái, nhất là lúc thày xoay lưng viết bài trên bảng - tiếng xầm xì càng rõ hơn: "Con nhỏ này Bắc Kỳ tụi bay ơi", "Con nhỏ Bắc Kỳ mỏ chu", "Con nhỏ tóc quăn dễ ghét "... Trước ngày tôi về BH, người chị con bác tôi - chủ một tiệm uốn tóc ở đường Gia Long Sài Gòn đã uốn cho tôi một kiểu tóc mà chị cho là mốt mới nhất: tóc quăn xuăn tít vào nhau. Tôi thường hay dang nắng nên da tôi đen sậm hơn. Mẹ gọi tôi là "Chà Và con".   Ở đây những đứa con gái trạc tuổi tôi chỉ để tóc dài kẹp lại hoặc cắt bum bê. Đến giờ ra chơi, tôi đứng sớ rớ trước cửa lớp nhìn các bạn vui đùa với nhau mà thèm. Một nhỏ học chung dáng to lớn giống Tây lai có đôi mắt rất đẹp lân la làm quen với tôi. Tôi chưa kịp trả lời thì có hai đứa khác đã đẩy nó ra và lớn tiếng trêu chọc: "Ê, bộ mày đi Tây Ninh bỏ dấu nặng hả?" Từ nhỏ tôi chỉ sống quanh quẩn với mẹ và anh chị em trong nhà -chúng tôi rất hòa thuận, chưa nặng lời với nhau bao giờ nên tôi không hiểu những câu "móc lò" hay "chửi xỏ". Sau này tôi mới hiểu đi Tây Ninh bỏ dấu nặng là “nịnh”. Không phải trong lớp ai cũng xấu với tôi, chỉ có một số thôi, nhưng vì bọn này "dữ như chằn" nên các bạn khác không dám trái ý. Mỗi lần đi ngang tôi, bọn chúng hay làm dấu "lêu lêu" tôi: "Bắc Kỳ con, bỏ trong lon, kêu bon bon, bỏ trong đít, kêu chít chít" và “uốn tóc quăn như con chó xù xách bóp đầm không có đồng xu". Tôi không biết trả lời thế nào nên chỉ lặng im. Không có bạn, tôi chăm chú vào việc học hơn. Tôi lắng nghe thày giảng bài và thường hay xung phong trả lời. Thày rất vừa lòng. Tuần lễ đầu, ba còn đi đón -sau đó ba cảm thấy yên tâm nên để tôi về nhà một mình. Mấy đứa "dữ như chằn" cùng đường về với tôi. Tôi không ngờ chúng đã sắp đặt sẵn kế hoạch "đánh cho bỏ ghét'". Còn một đoạn ngắn nữa là tôi về đến nhà, tụi nó khoảng năm đứa giả vờ xô đẩy nhau để đụng vào người tôi. Một đứa tên út Tám chỉ vào tôi nói to: "Ê tụi bây, mấy hôm trước tao nghe con nhỏ này nó "buồn cười" ha...ha... đã buồn sao cười được ... tức cười qúa ha...ha... Tự dưng tôi cũng vọt miệng phản pháo lại: "Còn mày thì sao đã "tức" sao còn "cười" được?". Con nhỏ tên Lắm dường như chỉ huy bọn này đã chỉ định một đứa khác: "Nhào vô đánh nó đi Phượng, bộ mày ngán nó hả, có gì tụi tao giúp cho." Con nhỏ tên Phượng cao hơn tôi, tóc dài cột đuôi ngựa chạy lại định ôm vật tôi xuống. Bất ngờ và nhanh trí, tôi nắm đuôi tóc nó siết mạnh. Tuy ốm yếu nhưng tôi nắm bằng hai tay và quay một vòng làm nó siểng niểng. Mấy đứa ở ngoài quăng cặp định nhào vô. Thật may, một chú nông dân dắt bò ngang qua: "Ê mấy đứa tụi bay con cái nhà ai tan trường chưa chiụ về nhà mà còn bày đặt đánh lộn, học lớp nào vậy để tao mét lại thày Rao". Nghe chú la lớn, tụi con Lắm chạy mất. Tôi được yên thân về nhà. Tôi không kể lại cho ba mẹ hay vì tôi biết ba thương tôi và nóng tánh, ba sẽ mét thày và ba mẹ chúng. Tôi không muốn bị chúng gọi là "con Bắc Kỳ nhỏng nhẽo". Sáng hôm sau, tôi vào lớp học như thường lệ. Trong đầu tôi dự định tới giờ ra chơi tôi sẽ trình bày tất cả sự việc cho thày biết. Bọn con Lắm và út Tám nhìn tôi bằng đuôi mắt. Bất ngờ thày gọi tôi lên bảng. Chẳng lẽ thày biết mọi chuyên rồi sao? Nhưng mà không, khuôn mặt thày tươi cười, hân hoan lắm. Chuyện gì đây? Tôi lên bục gỗ mà lòng nghe hồi hộp. Thày đưa một tấm giấy màu đỏ cho tôi, tôi liếc nhìn - tờ bảng khen tên tôi được viết thật to và thật đẹp. Nước mắt viền quanh mi tôi. Thày đặt tay lên đầu tôi vỗ nhẹ :-"Trò rất xứng đáng được bảng khen này." Nói xong thày đưa những bài tập tôi làm giơ cao cho các bạn xem - bài nào cũng điểm cao cả. Lúc này cả lớp nhìn tôi tỏ vẻ thán phục Từ đó có nhiều bạn đến làm thân với tôi, tụi nó không còn sợ áp lực của bọn con Lắm và út Tám nữa. Vài ngày sau, bọn con Lắm và út Tám rủ tôi tham dự những trò chơi chung với chúng. Thời con nít thật hồn nhiên, vô tư. Những trò chơi con gái làm chúng tôi gần gũi nhau hơn. Đánh đũa, nhảy dây, lò cò, chơi u, chơi hấp... trò chơi nào tôi cũng có mặt. Năm lớp hai của tôi từ từ trôi qua ... thật êm đềm...

          Lên lớp Ba, thày hiệu trưởng vẫn là thày giáo phụ trách lớp tôi. Cũng từng đó khuôn mặt quen thuộc của lớp Hai. Cũng hai dãy bàn, một bên con trai, một bên con gái. Có điều bọn chúng tôi già dặn hơn. Tôi có thêm cô bạn mới Trần thị Châu Châu ở trên xóm tôi, mỗi sáng chúng tôi thường gặp nhau trên đường đến trường. Châu trạc cỡ tôi, hình như tròn trịa hơn một chút. Nhỏ có nụ cười tươi và đôi mắt to. Tôi để ý đến Châu vì nhỏ ôm cặp táp giống tôi. Nói là cặp táp chứ thật sự chỉ là cái vỏ bọc ngoài của cái Radio Nhật Bản, tôi thấy xinh xắn nên dùng đựng sách vở. Những ngày vào Đông không khí se lạnh.Trên đường đến trường, tôi thích nghe mùi rơm và lá khô đốt từ vài nhà bên vệ đường. Mùi khói tỏa lên cao nghe thật ấm áp, dễ chịu. Con đường dài vừa đủ cho bọn tôi nhâm nhi củ khoai hay trái bắp. Ở trường làng, con gái học giỏi và mang tên đẹp hơn con trai. Thường là con gái mang tên các loài hoa hay các loại ngọc đá qúy, trái lại tên con trai được đặt theo thứ tự trong gia đình là nhiều: Hai, Tư, Năm, Mười... hoặc quá bình dân như Soài, Thôi... Tân Thành là vùng phần đông dân cư sống bằng nghề làm ruộng và đập đá, có một số ít người Hoa mở các cửa hàng buôn bán. Trong lớp tôi có một số bạn vừa đi học vừa phụ gia đình - nhất là con trai; phụ đập đá, chăn bò, cắt cỏ và những việc lặt vặt nơi đồng áng. Vì vậy, các bạn ấy không có nhiều thời giờ học bài. Thày Rao rất nghiêm khắc. Nhiều lần không thuộc bài thày sẽ lấy thước khẻ vào tay thật mạnh. Mắt thày "lé" nên thày hay đeo kính đen. Học trò rất sợ thày vì không biết thày đang để ý đứa nào. Khi vừa ý, thày cười ha hả rất vui vẻ. Những khi thày cười gằn trong cổ họng thì hãy coi chừng, sẽ có một tên học trò nghịch ngợm bị trừng phạt! Tôi chưa bao giờ thấy thày cô nào có nét chữ đẹp như thày Rao. Lối viết vừa đậm vừa lợt, vừa bay bướm như “rồng bay phượng múa”. Không những thày nắn nót trên những Bảng Khen, Bảng Danh Dự mà ngay viết trên bảng cũng vậy, lúc nào cũng cầu kỳ, sắc sảo. Kỷ niệm mà tôi nhớ nhất trong năm học này là những ngày lễ có hát Bội ở chùa Long Ẩn. Trước ngày lễ đã thấy nhộn nhịp, rộn ràng. Loa phóng thanh thông báo từ làng trên xóm dưới. Từ lớp học nhìn ra ngoài, tôi có thể nhìn thấy cảnh tấp nập hai bên đường, xe cộ nhiều hơn, người đi qua lại cũng nhiều hơn. Ai ai cũng nôn nao đón chờ ngày vui sắp đến. Chùa Long Ẩn với tôi không xa lạ gì. Tôi thường theo mẹ đến chùa trong những ngày rằm. Trong lúc mẹ và các bác lớn tuổi quỳ trên chánh điện, tôi mon men theo các bạn cùng trang lứa xuống nhà bếp. Ở đây có một tấm ván bằng gõ thật to, thường dùng làm bàn ăn khi có lễ lớn. Chung quanh tường có treo những tấm hình Hồi dương chánh quả. Lối vẽ thật sống động về sự trừng phạt của chín tầng địa ngục làm tôi vừa sợ, vừa thích thú.Tội nói láo sẽ bị cắt lưỡi, tội có chồng còn lấy trai bị cưa hai nấu dầu, tội buôn bán gian lận... tội giết người... tội nào cũng bị hình phạt xứng đáng. Ngoài xem những hình ảnh trên, bọn con nít chúng tôi thích tụ tập ở nhà bếp vì lý do đơn giản: được ăn. Các dì, cô nấu bếp sau khi sắp xếp chè xôi lên bàn Phật, phần còn lại phân phát cho bọn tôi; dù là chè cháy hay xôi cháy lúc nào ăn cũng thơm ngon, đậm đà. Những ngày lễ ở chùa Long Ẩn không phải chỉ dành riêng cho xã Tân Thành mà hầu như cho thành phố Biên Hòa và các vùng lân cận. Hát Bội được hát hai xuất: xuất trưa và xuất tối. Việc này làm ảnh hưởng không ít cho lợ́p học của tôi. Một số trốn học, một số đi học trễ, một số vào lớp ngủ gà, ngủ gật. Dĩ nhiên thày Hiệu trưởng không vui. Lúc này ba là hương chức, hương làng gì đó trong xã nên ba thường có mặt ở chùa. Tôi và thằng em út thường theo ba xem hát vào những ngày nghỉ. Những tuồng tích cổ xưa chúng tôi đã nghe ba kể cho mẹ mỗi ngày nên đã thuộc lòng. Tuy nhiên, đây là lần đầu tiên chúng tôi xem các đào, kép diễn trên sân khấu. Tôi đặc biệt thích cô đào chánh, vai nào cô đóng cũng xuất sắc. Khi đóng vai Phàn Lê Huê hay Thần Nữ dâng Ngũ Linh Kỳ, trông cô thật oai phong, đôi mắt sáng long lanh trông thật có hồn. Nhất là lúc cô đi bằng hai đầu gối, mọi người đều vổ tay khen thưởng. Khi đóng vai Hàn Tố Mai hay Bàng Qúy Phi, chao ơi cô đẹp quá, đẹp từ ánh mắt đến nụ cười. Cô làm nhà vua điêu đứng và làm tôi cũng ngẩn ngơ. Trong khi các bà cụ và các dì đứng tuổi ngồi phía trước tôi nguyền rủa cho cô chết đi, còn tôi mong cô đừng chết để vở tuồng được kéo dài thêm. Những ngày lễ vui tươi rồi cũng qua mau. Đời sống dân làng trở lại bình thường, lớp chúng tôi cũng vậy. Nhưng thày Rao không quên những tên học trò ham vui bỏ học. Khoảng năm tên được gọi lên bảng, mặt tên nào cũng xanh xao vì thiếu ngủ. "Đêm qua các trò xem tuồng gì?".   Thày cười gằn trong cổ họng. Câu hỏi lập lại hai lần mới được cả bọn lí nhí trả lời: "Dạ tuồng Ngũ Long Công chúa.” Đang cười, thày đổi sang sắc mặt giận dữ: "Ngũ long Công chúa, Ngũ hổ trùm mền ... ngủ luôn tới sáng… nè ...”. Thày dơ thước lên cao đánh cho mỗi tên vào lòng bàn tay thật mạnh.   Đau qúa, tên nào cũng rơm rớm nước mắt, xoa tay vào mông cho đỡ đau. Đám con gái chúng tôi nhìn nhau rụt đầu, le lưỡi...

          Lên lớp nhì, chúng tôi có cô giáo mới - cô Võ Thị Lành. Cô thật xinh xắn, dễ thương. Trên khuôn mặt đầy đặn phúc hậu luôn điểm nụ cười dịu dàng. Từ lâu chúng tôi chỉ học với thày Hiệu Trưởng - người nổi tiếng nghiêm nghị, khô khan. Bây giờ cô đến tạo một bầu không khí thật mới mẻ, sinh động. Có nhiều khác lạ trong việc giảng dạy.   Không giống như các thày cô khác mỗi sáng chỉ chọn một vài học trò lên bảng trả bài. Với cô Lành, chúng tôi phải trả bài mỗi ngày. Không phải trả bài với cô mà trả bài cho người bạn ngồi bên cạnh. Tùy theo mức độ thuộc bài, chúng tôi được phép đánh dấu trên bài học a, b hay c. Buổi sáng lớp học thật rộn ràng, tiếng trả bài xôn xao... Cô khoanh tay đi vòng quanh kiểm soát.
          Bọn con gái lớp tôi vẫn học xuất sắc hơn con trai. Những khuôn mặt học giỏi, siêng năng tiêu biểu như Trần Thị Ngọc, Trần Thị Châu, Đặng Nhựt Hưng, Mai Hữu Huệ... Bọn con trai học dở hơn, nhất là môn luận văn thật dở tệ. Có tên đã chép bài mẫu tả con chó để tả bà ngoại của mình: "Vì sợ trộm đạo nên nhà em có nuôi một bà ngoại." Vì vậy cô Lành đặc biệt quan tâm đến bọn con trai. Cô khuyến khích nâng đỡ các bạn nhiều hơn. Thật tinh tế, cô để ý có một bạn lúc nào cũng mặc chiếc áo sơ mi trắng sờn vai, cũ kỷ. Cô mua chiếc áo mới tặng cho bạn. Tuy nhiên cũng có bạn thật lì lợm, hỗn hào. Một lần, qúa tức giận cô đã dùng thước khẻ vào tay một tên. Đối với thày Rao đó là chuyện bình thường, nhưng với cô đó là điều đau khổ nhất, cô đã ôm mặt khóc nức nở. Cuối cùng bạn ấy đã biết lỗi và xin lỗi cô. Tôi thích nhất giờ đọc sách, kể truyện. Cô có những cuốn sách bìa cứng màu sắc và hình ảnh thật đẹp. Giọng cô nhẹ nhàng ... đưa hồn tôi vào thế giới thần tiên... Ở đó có những nàng công chúa mắt to, tung tăng chạy đuổi theo qủa banh và có những chàng hoàng tử đẹp trai, uy nghi trên lưng con bạch mã... Cô đã cho lớp tôi nhiều kỷ niệm khó quên. Buổi đi chơi trên núi Bửu Long, lần đầu tiên tôi và các bạn tung tăng ngoài trời, được ngồi trên Hàm Hổ, Hàm Rồng. Cô đã chỉ cho chúng tôi pha màu những chiếc lá để lưu niệm. Theo lời cô chỉ dẩn, tôi đã lấy lá cây mảng cầu xiêm ngâm vào bùn. Khỏang hơn một tuần sau lấy ra, lá cây chỉ còn những gân lá giống như một mạng lưới mong manh, đem nhúng vào mực xanh, tím hay đỏ trông thật đẹp. Tôi thích màu lá đỏ, dưới ánh nắng mặt trời màu đỏ lóng lánh vô cùng. Năm học lớp Nhì thật thoải mái dễ chiụ. Vừa học, vừa chơi, không phải lo nghĩ đến việc thi cử. Cuối tuần, tôi dẫn em trai tôi đi xem hát ở rạp Biên Hùng. Tôi có rất nhiều Bảng Danh Dự. Để khuyến khích học sinh giỏi, rạp hát Biên Hùng đã nhận bảng Danh dự thay vé hát. Khi vào xem, người soát vé chỉ cắt một góc nhỏ và trả lại BDD để học sinh giữ làm lưu niệm. Vào mùa hè, tôi thường đến nhà cô bạn trưởng lớp Trần Thị Ngọc chơi. Ngọc lớn hơn tôi khoảng hai tuổi, ốm và cao. Tôi không thua Ngọc về việc học chỉ thua bạn về sự ngăn nắp, cẩn thận. Sách vở của Ngọc lúc nào cũng thẳng tắp, sạch sẽ. Bìa bao và nhãn tên đàng hoàng. Ở bên trong lúc nào cũng có sẵn hai tờ giấy chậm. Nhà Ngọc xây theo lối xưa nên nền nhà thật cao, thật kiên cố. Vườn nhà Ngọc thật rộng có trồng nhiều loại cây ăn trái. Vườn nhà tôi nhỏ chỉ có một vài cây xoài, bưởi, mãng cầu xiêm, mận và cây cóc. Còn vườn nhà Ngọc có thêm các loại trái cây hấp dẩn hơn như chôm chôm, vú sữa, dâu và sa-bô-chê. Vú sữa nhà Ngọc trái tuy nhỏ nhưng mỏng vỏ và rất ngọt. Ngọc rất lanh lợi, tháo vát. Cây vú sữa cao thật cao, có những trái tận trên ngọn, Ngọc có thể khéo léo đưa chiếc lồng lên và hái xuống. Tôi đã cố gắng thử nhiều lần mà vẫn không làm được. Trái cây nhiều, nhà Ngọc lại ít người nên Ngọc thường đem trái cây ra chợ Biên Hòa bán, Ngọc thích rủ tôi theo. Theo Ngọc, có hai địa điểm bán tốt nhất: trước cửa tiệm vàng Kim Châu và cửa hàng bán xe đạp Đông Hưng. Tôi vốn ít nói, không lanh lẹ mời mọc khách hàng như Ngọc nên chỉ giúp bạn tính tiền và thu tiền. Bán xong chúng tôi kéo nhau đi ăn hàng. Cả hai đứa có chung một món khoái khẩu - món cá chiên của chú người Tàu có chiếc xe bán ở góc cửa tiệm vàng Kim Châu. Miếng cá nhỏ khoảng bằng hai ngón tay ướp với bột chiên vàng, chấm một chút tương ớt thật ngon, còn có thêm một chén súp nhỏ thật béo. Trước khi đi, mẹ đã cho tôi vài đồng nhưng Ngọc không để tôi trả tiền. Nhỏ vổ tay vào túi tiền bên hông: "Đừng lo, tao có nhiều tiền ..." Cũng có đôi lần bán chậm, nhưng Ngọc cũng biết khéo léo xoay sở nhỏ giảm giá và nài ép những người quen mua dùm, ai cũng cho là Ngọc có duyên bán hàng. Lúc đầu được tin cô Lành sẽ tiếp tục dạy lớp tôi năm lớp nhất, nhưng cuối cùng cô được lệnh đổi về trường Nguyễn Du. Ngày chia tay thật buồn. Cô và học trò đều khóc. Tôi chỉ còn một điều an ủi: cô về Nguyễn Du dạy lớp em tôi, tôi sẽ có dịp gặp lại cô. Cô Đổ Thị Ba thay thế cô Lành. Cô cũng hiền diụ, nhẹ nhàng. Tóc cô dài chấm vai, thỉnh thoảng cô thắt một bím tóc để qua một bên trông thật duyên dáng. Niên khóa này lớp tôi có một bạn từ Nguyễn Du đổi về: Trần Văn Ba. Lần đầu tiên lớp tôi có một bạn trai học giỏi. Có nhiều nhỏ xầm xì: "Tên này học giỏi vì học lớp nhất hai năm liền." Tôi chỉ chú ý một điều bạn ấy viết chữ thật đẹp, nét chữ thật lạ, thật hay. Vì tò mò, tôi đã quan sát và nhận thấy ngòi viết tre của bạn rất đặc biệt. Thì ra bạn đã khéo léo cắt ngang đầu ngòi viết một chút, khi viết chữ có nét đậm, nét lợt như những chấm phá của họa sĩ. Năm lớp nhất là năm học quan trọng. Cô giáo chú tâm hơn và học trò chuyên cần hơn. Tuy nhiên, vào dịp những lễ lớn, cô Ba cũng cho lớp tôi được trình diễn văn nghệ. Giọng hát nổi tiếng nhất là Nguyễn Thị Hòa - giống như tên gọi Hòa - rất nhu mì, hiền lành. Hòa hát bài Cánh thiệp đầu Xuân rất hay. Tôi và nhỏ Châu cũng tham gia văn nghệ nhiệt tình. Ở nhà, chị Mai tôi hay hát nên tôi cũng bắt chước theo ...Những bài Sương lạnh chiều Đông, Bóng nhỏ đường chiều, Về đâu mái tóc người thương, Ngày em hai mươi tuổi ... tôi đều thuộc nằm lòng. Nhỏ Châu cũng được chị Mai hướng dẩn hát bài Em không buồn nữa chị ơi, bài hát này hạp với nhỏ nên khi trình diễn cũng được bạn bè ái mộ. Không hiểu tại sao tôi lại chọn bài Ngày em hai mươi tuổi. Vừa nghe tên bản nhạc, cô Ba đã bật cười ... cả lớp cũng cười theo. Kể từ ngày đó tên tôi gắn liền với tên bản nhạc. (Năm 2005, trước khi đi dự đại hội trường Ngô Quyền, nhỏ Hồng có gọi cho Châu ở San Jose: "Kỳ này có Cúc đi nữa. Cúc học chung với mày ở trường Tân Thành mày nhớ không?" Châu ̣đã ròn rã trả lời: "Sao không nhớ, Cúc ngày em hai mươi tuổi đó mà …”)

          Vì là năm thi, nhất là thi tuyển vào đệ Thất nên tôi bỏ nhiều thú vui riêng để gạo bài. Ba mua cho tôi quyển 366 bài toán đố và một luyện thi luận văn. Nhân đọc báo tôi thấy bảng quảng cáo lớp luyện thi đệ Thất ở trường Khiết Tâm, tôi xin ba đi học. Lớp học vào ban đêm. Tôi không dám đi xe đạp nên đi học bằng xe lam. Lớp học thật đông, toàn là dân thành phố. Có hai thày phụ trách. Thày Kỳ dạy môn Toán và thày Chấn (?) dạy môn văn. Tôi ngồi bàn cuối cùng, cô bạn gần bên là Bùi Thị Duyên -chính là Duyên của Thà như giọt mưa... về sau này. Không khí lớp học thật sôi nổi hào hứng -chúng tôi thi đua nhau học tập. Một lần bị cúp điện, lớp học phải dùng đèn cầy. Chẳng hiểu hôm đó tôi loay hoay thế nào mà để lửa cháy xém một ít tóc phía trước, may là không bị phỏng. Đôi khi đi học về không có xe lam, tôi phải đi bộ về nhà. Sợ nhất là đi ngang nghĩa địa của người Tiều Châu. Vừa ̣đi tôi vừa khấn Phật Bà Quan Âm. Không ngờ lớp luyện thi cũng được tổ chức thật xôm tụ, khi mãn khóa có thi đàng hoàng và có lễ phát phần thưởng. Một bạn trai được xếp hạng nhất, tôi hạng nhì và Duyên hạng ba. Ngày phát phần thưởng có chương trình văn nghệ. Một bạn trong đám con trai đã hát bài vọng cổ nổi tiếng của nghệ sĩ Út trà Ôn ..."Tưởng giếng sâu tôi nối sợi dây dài... ngờ đâu giếng cạn, tôi tiếc hoài sợi dây ...". Duyên hát bài Giấc ngủ cô đơn; giọng Duyên thật trầm ấm, truyền cảm. Sau cùng là lễ phát phần thưởng. Duyên và tôi - hai con bé Bắc kỳ nho nhỏ - Duyên nói giọng Bắc còn tôi nói giọng Nam - khệ nệ ôm phần thưởng cao nghều về nhà. Năm học này tôi vui nhất vì được hai phần thưởng ...

          Đã bao mùa Xuân trôi qua ... có nhiều biến chuyển trong cuộc đời... Ba tôi và thày Rao đã yên lành nơi cõi vĩnh hằng. Tôi vẫn không quên những lần thày đến nhà tôi, ba và thày đứng cạnh hồ cá trước sân nhà. Cả hai nói về chuyện thời sự và về việc học của tôi. Thày luôn luôn quan tâm ... Nếu tôi chăm chỉ hơn một chút, bớt ham chơi một chút ... như thày luôn nhắc nhở... có lẽ cuộc đời tôi sáng lạn hơn chăng?   Đôi khi tôi cảm thấy tiếc nuối ... Khi cô Lành đổi về trường Nguyễn Du, năm đầu tiên tôi vẫn còn đến thăm cô ... Nhưng sau đó, tôi mất liên lạc với cô vì cô chuyển đi hay vì tôi mải mê ham chơi mà không nhớ đến ??? Bây giờ mỗi lần Thu về, nhìn màu lá đỏ, tôi vẫn nghe xôn xao, bùi ngùi. Tôi nhớ chiếc lá đỏ năm xưa và ao ước gặp lại cô dù chỉ một lần. Cô Ba ở Oregon, cách đây vài tháng cô có gọi cho tôi, giọng cô vẫn dịu dàng, đằm thắm như thủa nào. Nhắc về tôi, cô vẫn không quên con bé với chiếc áo trắng cúp tay và cái đầu luôn "bù xù tóc rối" - biểu hiệu của một thi si ̃- cô vừa nói vừa cười. Tôi hình dung nụ cười nửa miệng của cô và chiếc bím tóc để một bên vai của cô thật dễ thương. Dù bao nhiêu năm chưa gặp, tôi vẫn nghĩ cô không già vì cô sống giản dị, ăn chay và đọc kinh Phật. Một điều mất mát luôn làm tôi băn khoăn, muộn phiền: Tình bạn của tôi và Ngọc đã chấm dứt khi tôi thi đậu vào Ngô Quyền. Ngọc nghỉ học và tránh gặp mặt tôi. Cả hai lúc đó còn nhỏ nên không có những suy nghĩ chín chắn để tìm đến nhau hàn gắn lại những ̣đổ vở. Vài năm gần đây, khi nghe tin Ngọc mất ở quê nhà, lòng tôi rất buồn. Tôi vẫn nhớ những lần theo bạn ra chợ Biên Hòa, nhớ chiếc xe bán cá chiên của chú người Tàu mà cả hai đều ưa thích. Ôi, tất cả chỉ còn là kỷ niệm ... Trong giấc ngủ, tôi thường mơ về thời tuổi nhỏ... về ngôi trường làng ... Tôi thấy ba dẫn tôi đến trường ... Khung cảnh xung quanh vẫn êm ̣đềm ... hòa bình như thủa nào. Tôi thấy ngôi chùa Long ̉Ẩn với những ngày lễ hội tưng bừng... với nụ cười và ánh mắt của cô Bàng Qúy Phi một thời làm tôi ngơ ngẩn. Trong tiềm thức, tôi nghe văng vẳng tiếng chuông chùa và giọng ngâm nga của ba một bài thơ của Hồ Dzếnh mà ba từng yêu thích:
..........................................................
Chỉ nghe thiếu vắng trong hồn
Ít nhiều hương phấn khi còn ngây thơ
Chân đi đếm tiếng chuông chùa
Tôi ngờ năm tháng ngày xưa trở về

THY LỆ TRANG

&

DAYS IN MEMORY
By Thy Le Trang
Translated into English by Phuoc Khac Nguyen

After moving to Bien Hoa, Dad's first thing was to send me to school. It was about two kilometers from my house to Tan Thanh Elementary School. Dad walked me to school so I could remember the way home alone. At that time, houses were sparse - from one place to another was a long distance. There were still a few cottages with thatched roofs and earthen walls. On both sides of the road were beds of young rice plant seedlings stretching like lovely blue carpets. The air was so peaceful and fresh. Dad liked the landscape and the weather very much and planned to stay here until the end of his life.

Principal Huynh Van Rao met my father and me at the Second Grade classroom during the lesson - because he was both a Principal and a teacher. So Dad asked him to enroll me in Second Grade.

Because his business failed, Dad had to sell his house in Saigon and move his family to Vinh Long at the invitation of a friend. But after only a few months of considering it inappropriate, he took the whole family back to Saigon. After that, Dad listened to my uncle's advice and went back to Bien Hoa. Moved so many times that my study was interrupted. I hadn't finished First Grade yet. However, I could read and solve math problems very well, thanks to homeschooling. Dad explained to the Principal and boasted about me: "She still memorized the poems by Ms. Huyen Thanh Quan (the first lady of Thanh Quan district leader)." The teacher looked at me and smiled. Strangely, I didn't feel shy but bolder than usual. I read a passage very clearly and solved some math problems at the teacher's request. "Very good." The teacher accepted me as a new student in Second Grade. Dad waited for me to sit down and made sure I didn't cry, then he left.

Before I returned to Bien Hoa, my sister, whose father was my uncle, was the owner of a hair salon on Gia Long Street in Saigon, dressed my hair in a style that she considered the latest fashion: curly hair. I often played in the sun, so my skin got dark. Mom often called me “Little Javanese.” Here, girls my age liked long hair with clips and bob hairstyles. At break time, I stood in front of the classroom and watched my friends have fun with each other. A classmate as big as a Western mixed-race girl with gorgeous eyes came near with good intention to make friends with me. Before I could reply to her, two other kids pushed her away and loudly teased her: “Hey, do you intend to go to Tay Ninh with a dot under it?”

Ever since the early days of my childhood, I just lived with my mother and my siblings. We got along very well and never spoke harshly to each other, so I didn't understand malicious and offensive language. I later understood that “Ninh” with a dot under it meant “flattering.” Not everyone in the class was bad to me, only a few, but because they were "as fierce as hell," the other students didn't dare to disagree. Every time they passed by me, they made a "teasing" sign at me: "A Northern baby, put it in the can, squeal squeal, put it in the ass, squeak squeak." “Curling hair like a poodle with a purse without a cent to spend.” I didn't know how to respond, so I just kept quiet.

Without friends, I was more focused on my studies. I listened to the teacher's lectures attentively and often volunteered to answer his questions. The teacher was very pleased.

In the first week, my father escorted me home - then he felt reassured, so he let me go home alone. But, unfortunately, the devilish kids were on the same road as me. I didn't expect them to have a plan to beat me up to satisfy their hatred.

At a place not far from my home, five of them pretended to push each other to bump into me. A kid named Ut Tam pointed at me and roared: “Hey guys, a few days ago, I heard this kid say “buồn cười” (funny); if someone is “buồn” (sad), how can they “cười” (laugh)? It is very “tức cười” (ridiculous), haha.” Immediately, I burst out my mouth to attack her: "And how can you “tức” (get angry) and “cười” (laugh) at the same time?” The girl named Lam, who seemed to be the group leader, ordered another one: "Dive in and beat her, Phuong. Are you afraid of her? We are ready to help you if needed." The girl named Phuong, taller than me, with long hair tied in a ponytail, rushed to me, tried to hug and knock me down. Cleverly, I grabbed the end of her hair and squeezed it. Although I was weak, I caught hold of her hair and turned it around to make her dizzy. The other kids threw their bags and tried to jump in. Fortunately, a farmer walked by: "Hey guys, you bad children don’t go home after school, and what's more, setting up a fight. Which class do you belong in so I can inform Mr. Rao?" Hearing the man shouting, Lam's group ran away. I got home safely. I did not tell my parents because I knew that my father loved me so much that he easily became hot-tempered if he knew this, so he would inform teachers and their parents. I didn't want them to call me "a pampered Tonkin girl".

The following day, I went to school as usual. In my mind, I planned that I would tell my teacher all about it at break time. Lam and Tam stealthily looked at me. Suddenly, the teacher called me to the board. Was it possible that the teacher knew all about it? But no, the teacher's face was smiling happily. What would happen? I went up to the wooden platform with my nervous heart. The teacher handed me a red piece of paper, and I glanced at it – a Certificate of Merit with my name written really big and beautiful. My eyes welled up with tears. The teacher patted my head: "You are very deserving of this commendation." After that, the teacher held up the exercises I did for my classmates to see - all of the papers got good marks. The whole class looked at me admiringly.

Since then, many of my classmates made friends with me as they were no longer afraid of Lam and Tam’s group. A few days later, Lam and Tam invited me to join in their games. Children my age were innocent and carefree. Girls’ games brought us closer together. I took part in any games: chopsticks, jumping rope, hopscotch, hide and seek… My Second Grade school year passed slowly and smoothly.

In Third Grade, the principal was still the teacher in charge of my class. The students were the same familiar faces from Second Grade. We sat at two rows of tables, one for boys and one for girls, the same as before. Nevertheless, we were older. I had a new friend Chau Thi Tran. Chau lived in my neighborhood. Every morning we often met on the way to school. She was about my size but a bit rounder. She has a happy smile and big eyes. I paid attention to Chau because her school bag was the same as mine. My school bag was just a leather case for a Japanese transistor radio. I thought it was pretty, so I used it to hold books.
The first days of winter were cold. On the way to school, I liked the smell of burning straw and dry leaves from the houses on the roadside. The scent of rising smoke was warm and pleasant. The road was long enough for us to nibble a sweet potato or a corn. At village schools, girls often did better and had more adorable names than boys. Girls were usually named after flowers or precious stones, whereas boys were typically named after the birth order in their families: Hai, Tu, Nam, Muoi... or commonly as Soai, Thoi... Tan Thanh was an area where most of the population lived by farming and stone crushing. A few Chinese people were shopkeepers.

Therefore, they did not have much time to study. Teacher Rao was very strict. If they didn't memorize their lessons, he would hit their hands with a ruler hard. His eyes were "crossed," so he often wore sunglasses. His students were terrified of him because they did not know whom the teacher was looking at. When pleased, the teacher laughed happily. When he chuckled in his throat, beware, a naughty student would be punished! I had never seen a teacher with beautiful handwriting like Mr. Rao. His writing style was both bold and light, very artful and fanciful. He always wrote carefully and beautifully not only on Certificates of Merit and Honor Boards but also on the blackboard,

The memory that I remember most in this school year was the festival days with Hat Boi – a classic opera - at Long An pagoda. The neighborhood was bustling before the festival. Cars with loudspeakers ran around to announce the event. Looking out from the classroom, I could see the busy scene on the streets with more traffic and more people passing by. Everyone was eagerly waiting for the happy days to come.

Long An Pagoda was very familiar to me. I often followed my mother there on full moon days. While my mother and elders knelt in the main hall, I followed my friends down to the kitchen. There was a big wooden plank here, often used as a dining table for a big ceremony. Around the walls, some pictures depicted the law of cause and effect. The vivid drawings of the punishment of the nine hells made me both scared and excited. The liar would have his tongue cut off; the adulterer would have her body amputated and put into cooking oil, the crime of trading fraud... the crime of murder... any crime will be punished. We kid not only looked at the pictures above, but we also liked to gather in the kitchen for a simple reason: to eat. After arranging sticky rice on Buddha's table, the dinner ladies distributed the rest to us. Whether it was burnt sweet soup or burnt sticky rice, it was always delicious and tasteful.

The festivals at Long An pagoda were not only for Tan Thanh commune but also for Bien Hoa city and surrounding areas. Hat Boi was performed in two shows: noon show and evening show. This had a negative impact on my class. Some students played truant; some were late, and some fell asleep or dozed off in class. Of course, the headmaster wasn't pleased. At this time, my father was a village official or something like that in the commune, so he was often present at the pagoda. My youngest brother and I often followed our father to watch the shows on holidays. We had heard our father tell our mother about the ancient stories almost every day, so we knew them by heart. However, this was the first time we saw the actors perform on stage. I especially liked the leading actress who could play any role excellently. When playing the role of Phan Le Hue or Than Nu Dang Ngu Linh Ky (Goddess Offering Five Sacred Flags), she looked so majestic, and her bright eyes seemed so soulful. Especially when she walked on two knees, the audience applauded loudly. When playing the roles of Han To Mai or Bang Quy Phi, she was so beautiful, beautiful from her eyes to her smile. She captivated the king and made me dazzled, too. While the old ladies and elderly aunts in front of me cursed her, wishing her to die, I wanted her not to die so that the play would prolong.

Cheerful festival days were over. Life in the commune returned to normal, and so did our class. But Teacher Rao didn't forget the students who dropped out of school because of the desire to have fun. Five kids were called to the board; their faces were pale from lack of sleep. "What show did you watch last night?" The teacher chuckled in his throat. The question was repeated twice before the kids answered in a whisper: “Ngu Long Cong Chua” (Five Dragon Princesses). The teacher changed from a smiling face to an angry face: "The Five Dragons Princesses, the Five Tigers were covered with blankets ... slept until morning... hey ...".(“Ngu” in Vietnamese means “five” and “sleep”). The teacher used a ruler to strike them on the hands. The pain was so bad that all of them were in tears, rubbing their hands on their buttocks to relieve the pain. We girls looked at each other with our heads down, our tongues sticking out...

In Second Grade, our new teacher was Ms. Lanh Thi Vo. She was so pretty and lovely. On her kind face, there was always a gentle smile. For a long time, we studied only with the Principal, who was famous for being stern and dry. Now she came and brought with her a new and lively atmosphere. There were many variations in her teaching. She was different from the other teachers, who only chose a few students to answer the questions on the board. With Ms.Lanh, we had to recite the previous lessons every day. We didn’t recite the lessons to her but to the classmate sitting next to us each. Depending on the level of our memory of the lessons, we were allowed to give a, b or c marks (grades). In the morning, the classroom was buzzing with the sound of lesson reciting ... She crossed her arms, walking around to check our activities.

The girls in my class studied better than the boys. The good and diligent students were Ngoc Thi Tran, Chau Thi Tran, Hung Nhut Dang, Hue Huu Mai...The boys studied worse, and their essays were exceedingly terrible. For example, one of them copied a dog description to describe his grandmother: "To resist thieves, I raise a grandmother at home." Therefore, Ms.Lanh paid particular attention to the boys. She encouraged and helped them. For example, she noticed that one student always wore an old, worn-out white shirt, so she bought him a new shirt. However, there were also some stubborn and naughty students. Once, she was so angry that she had to hit a guy's hand with a ruler. For Mr. Rao, it was a common thing, but for her, it was the most painful thing, so she covered her face and sobbed. In the end, he realized his wrong behaviors and apologized to her.

I liked reading and story-telling classes the most. Ms. Lanh had beautiful hardcover books with stunning pictures. Her soft voice gently brought my soul into the wonderland where there were princesses with big eyes running around chasing the ball, and there were handsome and majestic princes on the backs of white horses.

Ms. Lanh gave my class many unforgettable memories. The sightseeing trip on Buu Long mountain was exciting. My friends and I roamed outdoors for the first time, sitting on Ham Ho, Ham Rong. She showed us how to color leaves for souvenirs. She instructed me to soak Siamese custard apple leaves in the mud for about a week. After taking them out, only fragile webs of leave veins were left. They looked very beautiful after being dipped in green, purple or red ink. I liked the red veins of the leaves that sparkled stunningly in the sunlight.

Second Grade is very comfortable and easy. We could study and play simultaneously, without worrying about exams. On weekends, I took my younger brother to watch shows at Bien Hung Theater. I had a lot of certificates of merit. Bien Hung Theater received Certificates of Merit instead of tickets to encourage good students. The conductor just cut a small corner and returned the certificates to the students to keep as a souvenir.

I often went to Class monitor Ngoc Thi Tran's house in the summer to play. Ngoc was about two years older than me, thin and tall. I was not worse than Ngoc in terms of studying but worse than her in orderliness and carefulness. Ngoc's books and notebooks were always straight and clean. The covers and labels were decent. There were always two sheets of blotting paper available inside.

Ngoc's house was built in the old way, so the foundation was very high and solid. My garden was small, with only a few mangoes, grapefruit, Siamese custard apple, plum and ambarella trees. Still, Ngoc's garden was vast with attractive fruit trees such as rambutan, breast milk, strawberry and sapodilla… Ngoc's breast milk fruits had a thin shell and were small and sweet. Ngoc was brilliant and resourceful. Although the breast milk tree was very tall and the fruits were on the top, Ngoc could skillfully raise the cage and pick them down. I tried many times, but I couldn't do it.

There were a lot of fruits, but Ngoc's family had few people, so Ngoc often brought fruits to the Bien Hoa market to sell. Sometimes Ngoc invited me along. From Ngoc's experience, there were two best-selling locations: in front of Kim Chau gold shop and Dong Hung bicycle shop. I was a quiet person, not as quick to invite customers as Ngoc, so I only helped her calculate and collect money.

After having sold all the fruits, we went to eat together. We shared the same favorite dish - fried fish sold on a mobile stall by a Chinese uncle at the corner of Kim Chau gold shop. A small piece of fish about the size of two fingers marinated with golden frying flour dipped in a delicious chili sauce and a small bowl of fat soup. Before leaving home, my mother had given me some money, but Ngoc wouldn't let me pay. She clapped her hands on the pocket on her waist: "Don't worry, I have a lot of money." There were also slow sales a few times, but Ngoc knew how to cleverly manage small discounts and ask acquaintances to buy for her. Everyone thought that Ngoc was a predestined vendor.

At first, there was news that Ms. Lanh would continue to teach our class in First Grade, but in the end, she was ordered to move to Nguyen Du School. The day of parting was sorrowful. She and her students all cried. I only had one consolation: At Nguyen Du, she would teach my younger brother's class, so I would have opportunities to see her again. Ms. Ba Thi Do replaced Ms. Lanh. The new teacher was also kind and gentle. Her hair was shoulder-length. She sometimes wore a side braid to look more graceful.

In the new school year, there was a new classmate from Nguyen Du School: Ba Van Tran. For the first time in my class, there was a boy who studied well. Some kids whispered a false rumor: "This guy studies well because he has been in First Grade for two years." I was interested in his beautiful, skillful and strange handwriting. Out of curiosity, I observed and noticed that his bamboo nibs were very special. It turned out that he had cleverly cut the tip of the nib a bit; when he wrote, the words had bold and light strokes like the painters’ ones.

First Grade was an important school year. The teacher was more attentive, and the students were more diligent. However, on the occasion of big holidays, Ms. Ba also let my class participate in a musical and theatrical performance on stage. The most famous voice was HoaThi Nguyen – like the meaning of her name (Hoa = Peace) - very meek and gentle. Hoa sang the song “The Greeting Card at the Beginning of Spring” very beautifully. Chau and I also participated enthusiastically in the performance. At home, my sister Mai often sang, so I imitated her. “Cold Dew in the Winter Afternoon,” “Little Shadow on the Afternoon Street,” “Where Is My Lover's Hair,” and “The Day You Turned Twenty” were the songs I knew by heart. Mai also taught Chau to sing “I'm Not Sad Anymore, Sister.” The music was suitable for her voice, so her friends greatly admired her. I didn't know why I chose the song “The Day You Turned Twenty”. As soon as she heard the name of the song, Ms. Ba burst into laughter. The whole class laughed along.

Since that day, my name has been attached to the name of the piece of music. (In 2005, before going to the convention of Ngo Quyen School, Hong called Chau in San Jose: "This time, Cuc will attend, too. Cuc studied with you at Tan Thanh school. Do you remember her?" Chau answered immediately: “Yes, I still remember her as When-I-Was-Twenty-Years-Old Cuc.")

Because the last year in elementary school was a time with many exams, especially the entrance exam for Seventh Grade (the first year of junior high school), I gave up many personal hobbies to study. My father bought me a book of 366 math problems and an essay writing practice book. Reading the newspaper, I saw a page advertising an exam preparation class for Seventh Grade at Khiet Tam School. I asked my father to allow me to attend the class. It was an evening class. I didn't dare to ride a bicycle, so I went to school by three-wheeled Lambro. The course was very crowded; all of the students were city dwellers. There were two teachers in charge. Mr. Ky taught Math, and Mr. Chan (?) taught Literature. I sat at the last table. The student next to me was Duyen Thi Bui - It was Duyen in the song “I’d Rather Be A Raindrop”... later on.

The atmosphere in the class was exciting - we competed in learning. Once there was a power outage, we had to use candles. I didn't know how I managed in that situation as the fire scorched a little of my hair in front; fortunately, I didn't get burned. Sometimes I had to walk home from school because there was no Lambro; I was terrified when passing by the cemetery of the Tieu Chau people. While walking, I prayed to Buddha and the Goddess of Mercy.

Unexpectedly, the exam preparation class was well organized. There was a rigorous exam and an award ceremony when the course was over. A boyfriend ranked first, I ranked second and Duyen ranked third. There was a singing performance in the award ceremony. One of the boys sang the famous Vong Co song by Ut Tra On with the verse: "Thinking the well was deep, I connected the rope to another to make it longer. It turned out that the well was dry. I regretted the rope forever.”

Many springs have passed, and many changes have happened in life. My father and my teacher Rao were at peace in eternity. I still do not forget the times when my teacher came to my house. He and my father stood by the fish pond in front of my house. Both talked about current affairs and my studies which the teacher was always interested in. If I had worked a little harder, a little less playful... as my teacher always reminded me... maybe my life would have been brighter? Sometimes I feel regret… When Ms. Lanh moved to Nguyen Du School, I used to visit her in the first year. But after that, I lost contact with her because she moved or because I was so absorbed in playing that I didn't remember??? Every time Autumn comes back, I still feel confused and regretful when I look at the red leaves. I remember the old red leaf and wish to see her again, even just once.

From Oregon, Ms. Ba called me a few months ago; her voice is still as gentle and passionate as ever. Talking about me, she still didn't forget the little girl with a white shirt with her sleeves folded and her head always "with messy hair" - the symbol of a poet ̃- she said while smiling. I visualize her fleeting smile and her lovely one-side braid. No matter how many years I have not seen her, I still think she is not old because she lives a simple life, follows a vegetarian diet and reads Buddhist scriptures.

The loss always bothers me: My friendship with Ngoc ended when I passed the entrance exam to Ngo Quyen. Ngoc stopped attending school and avoided seeing me. We were both so young, so we didn't have mature thoughts to find each other to mend our broken feelings. In recent years, when I heard that Ngoc passed away in my hometown, my heart was very regretful. I still remember the times I followed her to Bien Hoa market. I still remember the Chinese uncle's fried fish cart that we both loved… Oh, all of them now become just memories... I often dream about my childhood... about the village school... Once I saw my father taking me to school... The surroundings were still calm and peaceful... as peaceful as ever. I saw Long An Pagoda with jubilant festivals... Bang Quy Phi’s smile and eye wink once made me bewildered. (Bang Quy Phi: a female character in an old play). Subconsciously, I heard the sound of the pagoda bell and the voice of my father reciting a poem by Ho Dzenh that he used to love.
Just a feeling of missing in the soul
A little scent of innocence drifting
Footsteps counting the sounds of temple bells
I thought the old years were returning

THY LE TRANG
Translated into English by Phuoc Khac Nguyen.