This short story is dedicated to the victims of Tropical Storm Chanchu and their family members. The  short story was a prize-winner in a recent writing contest for children con-sponsored by the United Nations Children’s Fund in Viet Nam, the Viet Nam Committee for Mothers’ and Children’s Care and Protection and the Viet Nam Writers Association.

By Kim Hai

Quan took his sister’s hand and pushed his way through a big crowd on the beach. All were familiar faces of the fishing village. All looked with impatience at the distant open sea. Wave upon wave rushed ashore topped with violent white foam. The sky was off-white and sad. None of them said anything, except for cries from some children.

"Brother, no boat is coming home yet. I’m very hungry now."

Quan looked at his younger sister, his voice trembling:

"Yes, but let’s wait some more. Dad is probably just late."

It was getting darker. Wind was blowing harder. The sea looked blacker, as if there was a grey cloud shrouding the rough sea surface. They thought about returning home in silence. There remained only two old white-haired men who were occupying themselves building a fire.

"Go home now," one of the old men commanded.

Quan took his sister’s hand, walking away while turning back his head. His heart was gripped with pain.

***

A small house of the siblings was located at the end of the village. In the days before this area rung with children’s laughter, but today everywhere was quiet. The fishing boats were way past schedule for returning to base. The news of the storm spread, but only a few tattered, lonely boats were moving towards the desolate landing zone. Quan, like any other here, was left in desperate expectation.

Quan was 14-years-old and his sister Ba was five. Motherless, they had only a father with them. Now, with great confusion and worry, Quan was shouldering a heavier load with no one to turn to. His sister was still very small and to cover her misery laughed and talked constantly.

"Brother, our dad said to me that after this summer, he would take me to school," she said.

"Yes."

"I’ll join friends Dinh, Sun and Bi in the same class, you know."

"Yes."

His sister was surprised by Quan’s feeble replies.

Quan was cooking, wondering if they were having a mishap. But he thought they should try to be merrier in the hope that his father’s boat would be returning tomorrow, and they would find a lot of small fish which they would sell for some small change to buy candies.

"Brother Quan, if dad returns this time, I think we won’t buy candies any more. We will exchange with pens for my schooling, you know?"

"Yes...."

"And if we have some extra money, please buy me an eraser and some pink blotting-papers, brother. I will learn how to write well so that in the future, I’ll be a teacher to support our father and you too, do you get me?"

Quan laughed. His little sister’s wish moved him. Quan had once said that to his father and mother. Although schooling for him was a thing beyond his reach, his wish to go to school was still as full as ever.

"Well, our meal is ready, let’s eat it. My sister, do eat well and get well so that you can study. When the new school year comes, I’ll ask our father to buy you everything you need for schooling. Is that O.K.?"

"Yes. Please remember it, brother... Notebooks, text books, a pot of ink, an eraser... And also a new school uniform... Oh, brother, I saw my girl friend Dinh has an insignia on her shirt – she looks so impressive. Brother, one more thing, you’ve got to buy me a pair of sandals. I can’t go to school barefoot."

"Yes, I’ll get you all these things. I’ll even buy you a hat," he replied.

***

Quan could not live up to his promise to his sister. The sea turned blue again with no more roaring waves. But the boats were yet to be seen returning home. Many villagers were seen wearing mourning turbans and dropping golden and silver papers into the sea.

These papers were rolled back by the waves to the shore. Quan started to think about the miserable life ahead with no father. He did not cry, but he was so scared that he and Ba would be reduced to begging. His sister seemed to have a presentiment of bad luck, so she had become more taciturn. She began nagging him about taking her to the beach to wait for father almost every day.

"I’m going to welcome father home," she would say.

What his sister said frightened him. The siblings were sitting on the sandy beach until the evening came. No sails were seen coming ashore. No more fires were built to wait. The storm had abated the ships.

Quan did not nurture any more false hopes. His fear of hunger was much stronger now. He started his old chores of searching for oysters on the rocky beach.

His sister Ba began to cry night after night. The sea could still be helpful for them to live from hand to mouth, but Ba was frightened from loneliness. She looked wasted and she talked and laughed less. He took great pity for his sister, but he was never in the mood to talk with her, because he had to go and make their living.

***

The wind had again changed its direction. The sea had been groaning when the rain started falling unabated. Quan stayed home. The oil in the kerosene lamp was running dry, so the light got dimmer. Sand blown by the wind was rapping at the side of the house. He gave a hot sweet potato to his sister. She beamed and ate it with gusto. After eating half of it, she gave the other half to her brother, saying:

"Brother, the summer is over, isn’t it?"

Quan was taken aback, answering:

"Yes, the monsoon season is coming now."

"I’ve just seen the school with a new whitewash."

"Really?"

"When can I go to school, brother? Please go and ask for the permit for me. My friends Dinh and Bi have gotten ready for the new school year. Have you spared any money to buy me notebooks and books?"

Having seen his sister’s eager face, Quan had to give an answer for the sake of formality:

"Your brother is calculating things now. Let’s see, a pot of ink, an eraser, a pencil... O.K. I’ll try it, but mind you I can’t afford your new school uniform yet."

"I don’t mind. As for my school dress, I’ll wait for father’s return. But you’ve got to buy me a pair of sandals, you know."

A pain grew in Quan’s chest. He glanced at the altar. Half the incense had burned away.

"Brother, in the future when we’ve graduated from school and then get jobs, we will get out of poverty, won’t we?"

"Yes."

"If so, when I finish my education, I’ll buy father a new big boat. I’ll buy you a motorcycle for your work. What do you think?"

Quan forced a laugh, feeling a bit delighted. Yes, it was probably likely. His father often said that poverty bred ignorance and vice versa. If his sister could afford a good education, it was certain that their lives would be much better. Dreams did no harm at all. All of a sudden, he felt compelled to tell his sister about his own dream:

"You’ll be accepted into your class, and you’ll learn mathematics, how to read and write. So you should study hard to please your teachers. You’ll carry on your study now and forever."

His sister clapped her hands in great joy.

"Yes, you’re right. When the new school year begins, you should go with me. I’ll comb my hair and do my washing. I’ll sit at the head of the class. You know my name is Nguyen Thi Thu, so don’t call me sister Ba in front of my friends, O.K.? They’ll laugh at me with that name, you know."

"Of course."

Ba stretched herself out on the bed. Her eyes were very heavy now, but she went on saying:

"Brother, my friends won’t pull my leg any more because I can go into class with my head raised high and I won’t have to stand at the fence and look into the class any more."

Little Ba’s voice was getting weaker. Quan could now hear her light breath. For the first time after the hurricane, he was praying for his father to protect him and his little sister.

***

Quan’s body gave into sleep for only a short moment before he woke up twisting and turning. He felt a great pity for his sister. He knew that in two weeks’ time, a new school year would start. If his sister was not able to go to school, what would happen to her, he wondered? Could he act on his father’s behalf to console her then? As young as he was, how could he earn a living for them? In hopelessness, he cried in the dark. Tears fell from his eyes until his pillow was soaked.

There was a cock crowing. Hasty steps were heard running down the beach where the fishing boats were anchored. Quan quickly covered his sister with a thin blanket and then he tiptoed out of the house.

It was still dark. Chilly wind was blowing strong while the morning star twinkled in the clear sky. Wet sand was felt under his feet. He was going straight to the beach. The tide was waning against the black rocks that could be seen stretching far into the distance.

‘Wait until the day breaks,’ he told himself.

Those rocks looked so smooth and attractive. In addition to that, the lights on the boats from afar made him eager to go as far as he could to fish. It was the law of the sea. He was a little scared, but what he needed now was money to turn his sister’s dream into reality. He walked steadily on to those rocks.

Those oysters were so fresh, lying in wait for him. Never had he seen so many oysters. He also spread a net to catch fish. The bag he brought along was increasingly heavier. He got so involved in the job, his heart grew with every catch. He was thinking about the money he could earn to make his sister’s dream come true.

As he became engrossed in catching oysters, he failed to notice that the tide was rising fast and that he was far from the shore. When the waves splashed on him, he was startled and stood up. Behind him, the shore appeared very far away and the rocks looked like the small islets.

In a panic Quan collected the net and ran as fast as he could to the shore. The bag was full of oysters and the net full of fish. Never had he caught such a great number of oysters and fish. He was overjoyed and knew he should get the bag to the shore at any cost. He swam along those rocks, thinking if it got too hard he could leave the bag of oysters behind and only take the net of fish because he could earn more money with the fish.

But he changed his mind. No, his sister needed much more money for the upcoming school year. So he should try a little more... just a little more. He swam on and then rested on a rock and then swam on in great fear. He saw he was still very far from the shore. He thought about throwing everything back to save his life. But the other voice kept echoing in his ears: ‘Today is your chance, because you never know what tomorrow will be like.’ Quan was sitting on a rock, listening to the silent struggle between his heart and his mind.

High in the sky, the sun was coming out. From afar, boats were working hard to catch fish, but none of them could see the small silhouette of Quan amid the vast sea.

***

When Quan woke up he found himself on the sandy beach. He didn’t remember getting there. He felt gentle relief when he realised the oyster bag was still in his clutch, but when he stood up he looked in disbelief at the empty net. It was tattered with only one fish left. And the bag of oysters felt lighter than before. He licked his lips. So salty. The sea was strange to him and the sandy beach seemed uneasy under his feet. He staggered home with the net on his shoulders and the bag in his hand.

Ba had already woken up, ate the other half of the sweet potato on the broken plate and fell asleep again. Quan looked at her, lying down in silence beside her. His sister was dreaming, making some broken sounds:

"Brother... my notebooks... text books... Please take me to school... "

Quan covered his eyes with the hands and cried.

Translated by Manh Chuong