Xem trong Thư phòng    Xem định dạng khác Xem định dạng khác    Xem Mục lục Xem Mục lục 

SÁCH AMAZON


Mua bản sách in

Mom wanted to take another step. Just wanted to, didn't say it out loud, but I knew this. Mom hadn't said it out loud, perhaps because she was still waiting for the right time, still had to examine my attitude, her only daughter, and still had to wait until the new love of the widow's life was ripe and gave off a passionate fragrance.

It had been ten years, ten years of struggling alone to raise her children to adulthood since the day my father's life was taken away by a fatal cancer, Mom had never once complained, and had never once enjoyed a moment of peaceful rest. Mom only asked two things from me: to study hard and cultivate virtue. I did not disappoint my wonderful mother, from grade 4 to the end of high school I was a consecutive excellent student and passed the entrance exams to two universities with high rankings. I know Mom was very happy and proud of her good and talented daughter. But Mom was not satisfied. Mom still wanted more, higher. My mother also demanded that I graduate from university, become an outstanding talent to contribute my efforts to the cause of building and enriching the country.

When I finished my first year of university in economics, I realized that my mother's demands were not just anyone's demands. I was the one who longed to embrace the ambition of moving forward to reap the sweet fruits. I was the one who demanded that of myself. Study, study, and study. I knew that I was studying for myself, for myself first, so I found passion and enjoyment when burying my head in books and pens. While I was rushing at a strong and confident speed on the path of education, my mother distracted me, made me waver, and reduced my overflowing enthusiasm.

My mother was in love with an ordinary man. A love that blossomed in my mother's cold, withered heart when she was over forty years old. The man who jumped in and squatted right in the empty place that my father had left for the past ten years was Uncle Hung, a porter, pushing a tricycle outside the market where my mother had spent many years working in the sun and rain to earn money to send me to school.

Uncle Hung was a taciturn, uncouth person. With his huge body like a guardian, his shoulders and muscles made Uncle Hung even more frightening, very few people dared to get close to him. I heard that he used to be a scout soldier who fought life and death, and was injured near the day the South was completely liberated. Homeless, without family, wandering alone, living through difficult days in many new economic zones, Uncle Hung drifted back to the city, exchanging his labor for food and clothing in the bustling market place for the past few years...

When I was in 11th grade, my mother switched from selling baskets to selling stalls, every morning she had to carry bags of clothes to the market, and at dusk she had to pack them up and bring them home. The heavy work made my mother tired, so she really needed someone's help. I was busy studying, even if I wanted to help my mother, I couldn't because my mother wouldn't let me. She hired someone else to do it. Uncle Hung was the head of the cargo handling team at the market at that time, and took on the job of transporting goods for my mother from home to the market, and vice versa, for a very light salary.

Since then, Uncle Hung received his monthly salary from my mother, becoming a valuable assistant to help the weak widowed woman to have a smooth business. Uncle Hung became an acquaintance of my mother and me, and of the neighbor who was always curious and nosy around my house. Not only did he transport goods and clean up the stall for my mother, sometimes Uncle Hung also volunteered to help with small tasks in my house, sometimes he would reconnect the electricity and water, sometimes he would make chairs and fix beds, sometimes he would re-roof the house, redecorate the interior... with a face that was always pensive and cold.

As the months passed, my mother's business was doing well, partly thanks to the dedicated help of the strong man with a cold, harsh face that no one liked. I also had smooth sailing in my studies and exams, entering the economic university right in the city so that I wouldn't have to go far from home and my mother, partly thanks to Uncle Hung's efforts. I am very grateful. But, I don’t like Uncle Hung to become close and friendly with my mother. In my eyes, Uncle Hung is not worthy of my mother at all. My mother is beautiful, gentle and cheerful. The other man is ugly, taciturn and crude like a moving clay statue. Moreover, I don’t want anyone to replace my father to live with my mother in the house full of warm and painful memories of my mother and me. I don’t have the right to speak up. I can only express my opposition to Uncle Hung since I saw the relationship between two adults that has blossomed and is connecting two lonely fates together. I can’t smile when there is a dry, dull man in the house. I can’t enjoy meals with three people, and many times I find ways to avoid eating later, or eat quickly first to run to school with friends to forget the frustration and discomfort.

Over time, perhaps the two adults saw and understood my attitude, so Uncle Hung rarely came in and out of my house, except when he came to take goods to the market and then brought them back. He no longer talked to me as much as before, only glanced at me every time we met. Several times Uncle Hung asked me about my studies, I mumbled and answered curtly, not as enthusiastically and fluently as before. Several times coming home from school, I saw my mother and that clumsy man sitting next to each other talking very intimately, I angrily lit a whole bunch of incense in front of my father's altar, making the incense smoke fill the altar. I knew that all my bad gestures, actions, and words were very blameworthy, but I was still willing to let them continue just for the person who wanted to be my stepfather.

So neither my mother nor Uncle Hung once expressed any complaints or anger towards me. Both of them were silent in the face of the somewhat uncultured objection of a university student, a future bachelor... That scary silence made me even more angry and confused. So many things I wanted to say had been suppressed over the months and days without a chance to be released to relieve myself. The more I was suppressed, the closer the two adults seemed to become. An unwritten message was sent to me, I had to understand that nothing could separate two people in love, force them to leave each other. I controlled my heart to the maximum extent so as not to overreact and commit the crime of being unfilial and insolent. Just like that, I was distracted when I went to school, returned dejected, my mind kept thinking about the story of two adults in love, about my mother wanting to remarry at the age of over forty...

Oooo

The market burned down, right in the area selling ready-made clothes.

Luckily the fire was during the day, at noon, so I could turn around and save it in time. Eight stalls were burned down. My mother's stall was also reduced to ashes, but Uncle Hung had promptly moved the goods out, without losing any items. In the afternoon, on my way home from school, I heard the news and rushed to the market to listen curiously. I heard that the market fire was caused by a careless person burning incense to worship the Earth God. I also heard that a shop owner panicked and ran away when he heard the fire alarm, slipping and falling into a pot of boiling hot tea. I heard that a baby fell asleep and was trapped in the burning area. The parents were having lunch in the food court, luckily someone rushed into the fire to carry the baby out safely, to the admiration of everyone. The person who saved the baby's face, hair, and left arm were burned. And, that person was Uncle Hung.

I heard that only Uncle Hung dared to tattoo himself and rush into the fire at that time to save people. The others seemed to only care about saving goods and property. What I heard from the curious crowd outside the market shocked and moved me. I went home with an indescribable feeling, mixed with joy and sadness, pain and joy...

That dinner, it was rare for all three of us to have it. My mother talked on and on about the market fire at noon. Uncle Hung did not say a word. I secretly looked, Uncle Hung's left arm had been smeared with anti-burn cream and looked disgusting and slimy. His face was burned, especially his messy hair, which looked both funny and pitiful. I don't know why I had a good appetite at that dinner. I was happy, looking for questions to ask, forcing Uncle Hung to answer and tell me himself. That's all. The story of the hero at the market fire eventually faded away. I no longer saw that hero appear often, but instead saw a ferocious monster in my dreams in the following days...

I saw a huge monster. The head was Uncle Hung's head. The body of a wild monitor lizard, two long, scab-covered arms that looked like two deformed dinosaurs pouncing and biting everything... That monster kept appearing in my sleep regularly, causing me to lose sleep, waking up in the middle of the night with my body drenched in sweat... I fell ill. A painful, sudden fall left me unconscious, so exhausted that I couldn't even sit up. The high fever forced me to have even more terrible nightmares, full of demons and evil spirits, monsters and strange beasts, all of those hideous creatures had the appearance and appearance of the man who wanted to marry my mother...

Opening my eyes. Waking up, I looked around wearily, knowing I was in the hospital. Sitting next to my bed was a man with a funny face. But he wasn't smiling, but was deeply sad, tears streaming down his face. He was holding my hand and squeezing it, as if he wanted to transmit to me the life force to restore my health. Without saying a word, the man just stared into my eyes with a very affectionate look. I suddenly felt healthy, excited, my heart was filled with joyful emotions, and then I blurted out the words that I had not wanted to say for a long time:

“Dad… Dad!”

Then I choked up, tightly squeezing the rough, big, warm hand of the man who would replace my father to live with my mother for the rest of my short, limited life. Uncle Hung lowered his head, sobbing dryly, but I knew it was a cry of joy when happiness suddenly came rushing in right in the middle of the quiet, sad scene with the pungent smell of ether…

The monster had disappeared in my long, long dreams. It has stepped out into everyday life, becoming a hero for me to rely on on the long and arduous path to the future...

» Tải file Word về máy » - In chương sách này

Tiếp tục nghe? 🎧

Bạn có muốn nghe tiếp từ phân đoạn đã dừng không?