Waiting area

Nhenh River is a branch of Cai River. In the dry season, it is only a few dozen meters wide, the flow is slow, the water is clear. In the flood season, it swells to hundreds of meters, the water is muddy, and it rumbles. People crossing the river rely on a bamboo boat that looks like half a giant plum split lengthwise, rowed by Mr. Bo and his son. The boatman is honest, regardless of storms, night or day, whoever calls for a boat, they serve wholeheartedly. To make it convenient for ferrying people, Mr. Bo asked the commune for a piece of land along the river to build a thatched house as a shelter for his family. The husband rows the boat, the wife takes care of the garden around the house, and sells the excess to help with family expenses. The beloved daughter, as Mr. Bo calls her, followed her friends to school when she was young, and when she grew up, she followed Mr. Bo's career. Life is peaceful like the river that has always flowed to the mother river.

One night during the flood season, the river water was rushing and roaring. It was drizzling. While he was dozing, a frantic call for the ferryman came from the other side. Mr. Bo got up, put on a raincoat, pulled a palm hat over his head, picked up a storm lantern, and rowed across. On the shore, a middle-aged man wearing a canvas jacket was waiting. Getting off the boat, he said he needed to deliver an urgent dispatch to the commune. The signal light on the bow of the boat was dim in the rain. There were still about ten meters to the dock. Crash! A tree crashed into the side of the boat, causing the boat to sway and capsize, throwing two people into the river. Being familiar with the river, Mr. Bo jumped after the dispatcher, grabbed the canvas jacket and pulled him to the shore. He did a few breathing movements to let the water out of the dispatcher's body, then helped the dispatcher up to the house. After the panic, the dispatcher opened his eyes and looked around. Mr. Bo gave his clothes to the dispatcher to change into. He told the messenger to rest and calm down, and gave him the document to deliver to the commune chairman. He told his wife to cook porridge for the messenger to eat to stay awake, then grabbed a flashlight and rushed out into the rainy night.

The next morning, the courier returned to the district. After saying goodbye to the person who saved him, the courier promised to return the clothes he was wearing and asked him to keep the wet clothes from last night. One year, two years… the courier did not return. Occasionally, Mr. Bo would take out the courier’s clothes to look. Each time, he would silently blame the courier for being heartless. The items were still there, but why was the person still missing? The story of saving the courier had also faded into the past.

He was over sixty, no longer strong enough to row the boat during the rainy season. He handed the oar to his daughter. The boat continued to travel back and forth between the two river banks. One evening, a call from the river bank echoed. Ben, his daughter's name, quickly put on her hat and got on the boat. The person crossing the river was a young man. The boat glided lightly on the water reflecting the sparkling sunlight of the last day. Sitting at the bow of the boat, the young man watched the boatwoman. Her image was deeply imprinted on the twilight space. Her body stretched forward, leaned back, rhythmically and gracefully pushing the oar to splash water, bringing the boat across the river. Her white hat was thrown back to let her hair frame her oval face, tanned by the sun and wind. Her body was slim and strong. Her full breasts were plump in a simple mahogany shirt. Her black silk pants clung to her strong thighs as she rowed.

The young man was captivated. So beautiful! If only he had a camera! He was stunned when the boat reached the shore. Asking for Mr. Bo's house, the boatwoman took the young man to her house. At first glance, Mr. Bo was startled, why did this young man look so much like the messenger from years ago! Through the story, he learned that the young man's name was Hoat, a bridge engineer, the son of the messenger from years ago. His father told him the story of how he was saved by Hoat at night to deliver urgent documents. His father said that when he had the chance, he would take him to visit his family. Before he could do so, he died while delivering important documents to the air defense position while American planes were fiercely bombing. As for Hoat, he was busy with the work of restoring bridges and roads after the war, then upgrading and building new bridges, so now he had the opportunity to fulfill his father's wish, to come here to thank and return the clothes of gratitude to the person who saved his father.

Hoat opened the bag and took out the clothes that Mr. Bo had given his father to change into that night. Mr. Bo took out the clothes of the courier that he had kept for a long time. The two sets of clothes were placed side by side as a form of gratitude and confidantship. Mr. Bo was sad and regretful for having had inappropriate thoughts towards the deceased. He placed the courier's clothes on the altar, lit incense, clasped his hands and mumbled a prayer. Seeing that, Hoat and Ben followed suit. In the fragrant, fragile smoke of incense, from a vague world, Mr. Bo saw the courier holding his hand and shaking it gently, thanking him and wanting him to help the young couple get married. Hoat saw his father carrying a large canvas bag containing all kinds of documents and letters on his shoulder, walking out, looking at Hoat as if he wanted to say something, but Hoat couldn't hear it, only feeling warm inside because he had done what his father wanted. Suddenly, Hoat's hand seemed to be commanded by a supernatural force, grabbing Ben's hand. A current of electricity ran through Hoat's body. He looked at Ben. Her hand was still in Hoat's, her body was light and dazed. A moment of thought passed, the three of them returned to reality. Mr. and Mrs. Bo looked at their daughter and then at Hoat. Their hearts seemed to tell of the emotional harmony between the young couple. The sincerity was like Hoat was a relative returning from far away...

Night fell, Ben took Hoat to the boat anchored on the river. The full moon shone brightly on the sparkling water. The two sat looking at each other, not knowing where to start the story. Suddenly a fish jumped up to play with the moon and then fell back down, causing the water to ripple into concentric circles. Ben shouted:

- Mr. Hoat, the fish are jumping!

Hoat grabbed Ben's hand. A current of air ran through Hoat. He trembled:

- Ben! Do you have a boyfriend?

- You're so stupid! You have a girlfriend and I asked you out here? Say something!

- I just want to look at you. If there is a lady in the sky, there is another lady on this riverbank. The lady up there belongs to everyone, but the lady down here, I want to keep it to myself!

- You speak as if you were reading poetry. When I was in school, I would just sit there and listen to the teacher reading poetry, forgetting to take notes. Do you like poetry?

- I'm a technical person and don't understand poetry much, but I like it. When I'm sad, I hum a few lines to cheer myself up!

- Read it to me sometime!

- That was a sad time! But now I'm happy because I have Ms. Hang by my side!

Hoat put his arms around Ben and pulled him close. For the first time in his life, he held a girl's soft, hot body. The fever of love and desire shook him. He wanted to lay Ben down on the floor of the boat to watch, to hug. Ben felt his body swaying, wanting to melt away, to blend into Hoat's body... The sound of Mr. Bo clearing his throat after visiting there woke the couple up. Hoat took his hands off Ben, his eyes still passionate:

- Let's ask our parents for permission to get married!

- Wait a minute, this is our first time meeting.

- Oh yeah! I thought we'd been in love for a long time!

- You are so smart!

Ben's two hands cupped Hoat's cheeks, she placed her lips on Hoat's. Too surprised, Hoat didn't have time to react when Ben stood up, walked to the shore and ran home, leaving Hoat stunned on the boat swaying in ecstasy.

Hoat said goodbye to Ben's family with the promise to take his mother to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Bo. The ferry and the river wharf created a love story between the charming bridge engineer and the charming ferrywoman. A love story as beautiful as the full moon. The coincidence between the two fathers was like a fateful arrangement for the two children. The love ferry found a place to dock and wait.

Hoat’s bridge work on the roads did not leave him much time to worry about his happiness. For Hoat, the bridges connecting the two banks of each river and stream were also a source of happiness. In the letter to Ben, he told stories about the places he went to build bridges, the nights he missed Ben, his future plans…

In the letter to Hoat, Ben told the story of the changes in the village, his longing and love for him who traveled along the rivers to build bridges connecting the banks and bringing joy to the roads. The words of the letter were filled with love and encouragement for each other to wait.

Every day at dusk, Ben longed for the passionate call of “Ferry!” from the other side of the river. Ben could not count how many people she had carried, how many happy and sad fates she had crossed the river, but that afternoon’s “Ferry!” was a heart-wrenching memory. The wait was also a challenge. Anxious, Mr. and Mrs. Bo once advised their daughter, Hoat is here today, who knows where she will be tomorrow. Ben was certain that Hoat would return. Mr. Bo, like the people, longed for a bridge across the river. At that time, his family would move to Bai hamlet to live with the villagers, Ben would have another job that did not require working in the rain and sun, working hard day and night, especially during the rainy and flood season when danger was always lurking.

The bridge was granted, the wish came true. After several months of surveying, machines, vehicles and bridge workers flocked to the bustling riverside. Camps sprang up. The sound of motorbikes was loud day and night. Ben's ferry still patiently crossed the old wharf, the old river, waiting for the day the bridge was inaugurated. The people crossing the ferry these days, besides the locals, were also the officials and workers building the bridge.

Every time the ferry passed, Ben asked about Hoat, but they all said that Hoat was at another construction site and would come later. Ben took a deep breath and sighed. It had been a long time since she had received a letter from Hoat. Worry invaded her mood. Sadness crept into her sleep, sobbing and wetting her pillow with tears.

One evening, she was sobbing when she heard a knock at the door:

- Ben, open the door for me!

Hoat is really back! Overjoyed, Ben frantically opened the door. She was stunned and then hugged Hoat.

Mr. Bo said sulkily:

- Is that you, Hoat? I thought you forgot about me and my father!

- Dad, really…! Let Hoat sit down and have some water.

- Uncle! I'm sorry to you two and Ben. I was so busy with work that I couldn't come visit you two and my brother.

Ben whispered:

- My mother is dead!

Startled Activity:

- I'm sorry! Please allow me to burn incense to apologize to my aunt!

Hoat went to the altar to burn incense, bow, and mumble a prayer. Hoat asked Mr. Bo for forgiveness and told Mr. Bo and his father about his job.

Responsibility:

- Why haven't you written to me for over a year? Did you receive my letters? Or do you have someone else?

Mr. Bo hemmed:

- Why do you say that!

Shocking Activity:

- I still write regularly, but I haven't received any letters from you. I thought you had waited too long, so I...

- I'm still waiting for you!

Me too!

Mr. Bo was stunned:

- So where did the letter go? Losing one or two letters is fine, but why are so many lost? It wasn't like that during the war!

Supporting speech:

- Maybe it's because I move around a lot for work.

He said that to ease Mr. Bo's anger, all letters were addressed to his office, when he was away on business, his colleagues would bring them to him. While he was wondering, the sound of gongs and drums rang out in the village. There was a fire breaking out from a house. Hoat pulled Ben's hand and ran into the village. People shouted: Postman Tuan's house is on fire! Everyone rushed to put out the fire. Tuan was carrying a box running out of the house, tripped over his foot and fell face down. The box flew out of his hand, the lid popped open. Everything inside the box was scattered. A bundle of dozens of envelopes fell out. Everyone hurriedly helped pick them up, one person held a stack of envelopes and shouted: "Why is there a letter from Hoat here? And a letter from Miss Ben too?"

Hoat quickly threw water on the fire and ran back to grab the letter. It turned out that Tuan had failed many times in flirting with Ben, so he retaliated by keeping the letters they sent and received, spreading the rumor that Hoat had forgotten Ben and had stopped writing to him. It was true that "when the house is on fire, the rats show their faces".

Doubts were dispelled. Love became even more passionate. Ben and Hoat got on the boat waiting at the riverbank. The electric lights on the construction site shone brightly down on the river. The sky was full of twinkling stars. Under the boat, passionate kisses filled the days of separation. The couple hugged each other tightly. Ignoring the electric lights, ignoring the roar of motorbikes, ignoring the rocking of the boat... Oh my, waiting created such an exciting feeling. The river still slowly flowed along the magical night. The bridge that was about to be completed not only connected the two banks but also connected the love that had been tested by time and the twists and turns of life. The love boat was anchored firmly at the riverbank of their hometown. The riverbank of the river would later only remain in memory, but the riverbank of love would forever remain in the hearts of the couple that the riverbank had created...

Source