Following is part 2 of Chapter 9: A stranger from the children novel "Open the window, eyes closed" by Nguyen Ngoc Thuan presented in both English and Vietnamese only published on Tuoitrenews:
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Uncle Hung used to tell me the story of a jasmine flower arranged in a heap of cow dung. He said the jasmine flower stood for a beautiful girl.
I got up and tiptoed into the garden. My parents were fast asleep. The wind was chilly. I picked a few flowers and put them in my pocket. Then I started to climb the jack-tree, right up to the highest branch. There was a fork in the tree up there where I would sit during the day. The night dew wet my neck. Through the canopy of leaves, a few stars twinkled like little eyes. I flattered myself that they were actually looking down straight at me.
The beggar’s son never came to my classroom again. It sometimes occurred to me that I should go to the village market to see how he was, but I didn’t do it. I was afraid he might see me. I don’t know why I had that fear. But when I came home from school in the evening and heard the crickets singing in the garden, I sometimes felt rather sad. We ran out of games to play at school. Uncle Hung wasn’t dropping in these days either. I went to see him sometimes but I couldn’t find him. He was busy all the time in the woods. He only came home every two weeks, looking unrecognizably sunburnt, and in terribly dirty clothes. He would make fun of me. “Will the neighbour go into the woods again?” One day my curiosity got the better of me and I went to the market to see u. He was lying there in the same wooden stall. His back was bare, revealing a coal-black body and a stomach as white as a frog’s. He was muttering something, but I couldn’t make out what it was. From my hiding-place behind the stall I saw him take out his matchbox and lift it to his lips. He then took the cricket out and placed it on his stomach. He said, “Don’t you jump away, little boy!” He lifted it to his chest and said, “I told you not to jump. I’ve never known anybody as stubborn as you are.” He lifted the cricket, this time onto his forehead and said, “You’re being bad again. Will you ever behave? Or is it because you’re hungry? Try this dry grass for now, and I’ll get you some fresh grass tomorrow.”
The old man, who was lying beside him and breathing like a Muscovy duck, said to him, “Isn’t there any fresh grass around here, my boy?” “No, father. I couldn’t find any anyway. And he’ll only eat what’s right for him. He only likes sort of grass that’s both fresh and tender.” It seemed to me that the old man didn’t know the cricket was already dead. He was blind after all. He said, “Then you should search for the grass again tomorrow. It takes trouble to raise a pet successfully, you know.” “I know. Don’t worry. I’ll find the right grass for him sooner or later.” “OK. You can find it. And remember to be careful. Don’t get yourself into any trouble.” “I’m not getting myself into any trouble. None of them dares to touch me. But there’s more of them, that’s all.” “Then you’ve already fought with them?” “No, I’ve told you already. We never fought.” The old man lay still as if he was trying to get some sleep. After a while he said, “Give me the bag.” “Are you going to count the money again? I’ve told you, it’s nothing like enough.” “Just give me the bag.” u put the cricket back into his matchbox, locked it with the safety pin, and put it in his pocket. “You’re being so odd”, he said. But he did what he was told. He got a package wrapped in an old piece of wrinkled newspaper from his cloth bag. He opened the package and there was a pile of notes, all smoothed down flat and tied together with a rubber band. “Here you are. Count them if you like.” The old man blinked his murky, clouded eyes. He said, “You see. We have already bought a small piece of a yard. Before long we’ll be able to buy a garden. We will then settle down, and not be beggars any longer.” “It’ll take too long. How many times have you told me this?” “No, it won’t take very long”, the old man said, raising his eyebrows. He went on, “You will see. We will own a garden and settle down. And promise you won’t blame me then because I’ve already told you in advance what will happen.” The little boy giggled. His stomach throbbed. “Don’t you ever forget what you promise me either, will you?” the boy said. “OK. I won’t.” I moved away from behind the stall and went home. That night I climbed the star apple tree and listened to the songs of the crickets. The crickets that lived in my garden always had fresh grass. I searched among those far away clusters of stars for a really bright star and gave it a name. Once I had asked Dad, “Can I give a star a human name, Daddy?”
Dad had nodded. “Of course. Stars are the same as human beings. Only they go to sleep in the daytime.” So I named that star Lê Văn Tí, after my friend. Dad laughed and said, “It must be a very beautiful star.” The next night I looked I was unable to locate my own star. There I sat up the star apple tree and searched for it until I was soaked to the skin with dew. I told Dad that some stars slept during the night time too. When they slept they closed their eyes and that was why you couldn’t see them. But who knows, they might just turn away from you altogether. I said to Tí, “I’ll show you your personal star.” He rolled his eyes, “Really?” That night we both climbed the star apple tree. I pointed out the brightest star to him. “Look,” I said. “Can you see it?” “Wow! That’s beautiful. Then where’s your star?” “Well, I forgot to pick my own star.” “Let me pick one for you. Do you like that star near mine? It’s also beautiful.” We together laughed happily. “Why don’t they build houses in star apple trees? Just like birds do.” “Because they’re afraid the kids may fall. That’s what kids do - if you don’t watch them, they fall!” “Yes. But why don’t the birds fall?” “Because they have wings. If you had wings you wouldn’t be afraid of falling. You could even fly.” “Uncle Hung said human beings used to have wings long ago. But because they worked too hard their wings wore out.” “What a pity. But imagine humans with beaks, how ugly we’d look.” We both laughed at the thought of protruding, beak-like lips. “Do you hear that cricket singing?” I asked. “Yes. That one must be excited. I’ve never heard such a proud cricket’s song.” “Do you reckon we should give one to the beggar’s son? A live cricket?” “I don’t know. I found that boy a little too strange.” “His father’s about to buy some land, a garden. Then they’ll go there and settle down, and they won’t go begging any more.” “I don’t think so. It will take them quite a while before they can afford it. A garden costs a huge amount of money. My mother said so.” “You saw him counting?” “Yes, I did. I also heard him say too he was feeling a lot of pain in his bones these days. But he said he would live on until he was a hundred years old.” “How old is the old man? Nearly a hundred?” “I don’t know. Maybe a hundred. He looks very old to me.” “Let’s give the boy a cricket.” “Let me see. I’m afraid he’ll say ‘I don’t want your damned cricket’ “Who knows - he may take it. He may like to have a live cricket.” “Let me ask Toàn tomorrow if he thinks it’s a good idea.” “He’ll like the idea. But he won’t want to hand over the cricket himself.” “Well, who will take the cricket to him then? Not me either. It’s odd. He may think we want to make friends with him.” “Do I look like I want to make friends with him?” “Let’s ask Phượng to do it.” “No, she’ll tell everyone about it.” “Then let’s just forget the idea.” “OK.” |
Chú Hùng hay kể cho tôi nghe chuyện hoa lài cắm bãi cứt trâu. Chú nói bông hoa lài tượng trưng cho cô gái đẹp. Tôi chồm dậy rồi rón rén đi nhẹ ra vườn. Bố mẹ đã ngủ. Gió lạnh ngắt. Tôi nhặt vài bông hoa bỏ vào trong túi áo rồi lần theo cây mít, trèo lên cái nhánh thật cao.
Trên đó có cái chảng ba, ngày thường tôi vẫn hay ngồi. Sương xuống làm ướt đẫm cả gáy. Dưới tán lá, một vài ngôi sao nhấp nháy như từng con mắt nhỏ. Tôi thích nghĩ rằng chúng đang nhìn thấy tôi.
Núp bên đây gian hàng, tôi thấy nó lấy hộp diêm ra, đưa lên miệng măm măm. Sau đó bắt con dế để lên bụng.
Ông lão nằm kế bên thở khò khè như con vịt xiêm, lên tiếng:
Lão nói:
Tuy nói vậy nhưng nó vẫn lấy từ trong túi vải ra một gói giấy báo nhàu nát, bên trong là một xấp tiền phẳng phiu cột bằng dây thun.
- Đây, ông tha hồ mà đếm nhé.
Tôi vòng ngõ sau, đi về. Buổi tối tôi trèo lên cây vú sữa nghe dế gáy. Những con dế trong vườn nhà tôi luôn được ăn cỏ tươi. Tôi nhìn những vì sao xa và chọn một ngôi sao sáng nhất rồi đặt cho nó một cái tên.
Tôi nói với bố: Có một đêm tôi không tìm thấy ngôi sao của mình. Ngồi trên cây vú sữa lục tìm trong những đám mây cho đến lúc tóc ướt đẫm. Tôi nói với bố, có những ngôi sao ban đêm vẫn đi ngủ. Khi ngủ nó nhắm mắt lại và thế là chúng ta không nhìn thấy nữa, cũng có thể nó đang nhìn về hướng khác.
Tôi nói với thằng Tí:
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