[One-shot] The Abandoned - Những căn nhà hoang

[Eng] The Abandoned

Neil (-1)

I found myself hesitating in front of the B40 metal gate. The sun was pressing down the heat from straight above. Even the chickens majestically having a walk around the yard step-by-step was ignoring me. They only cared to talk to each other. I wanted to ask someone – anyone, but every house was the same, deeply sunk in silence. Opened door, closed gate, no one was in sight. It was possible that people residing in such a village had an ever-ending spare time at hands, so they were all off to a noon nap. I was at risk of missing the feeder bus back to the city. If I went looking for someone, however, I would definitely get lost.

Grabbing the gate, I stretched to look inside, desperately hoping for any kind of response. That was when I realized that the gate wasn't locked.

The house was old, despite the new paint layer, and the ceiling was low. I had to duck my head to get through the door. It was empty. Totally. Empty! No furniture, no cutlery, no light. There were only one shelf veiled by dust as an altar right across the door and a stained and dirty curtain hanging at the doorway to another yet empty room.

"Hey! Who are you looking for?"

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O' (-1)

"Mr. Victor! Oh, Mr. Victor!"

"Is that you, Mr. Winston? What's the matter?"

"You need to get to O's place quick. I saw someone standing there real long. She doesn't look familiar at all, so she is not a relative on my side for sure. You should check if she is a great-granddaughter of someone on your side."

So I leaned on my walking stick and rushed to O's place. Even though it was not quite faster than the normal speed of 10 minutes per step, I finally reached my destination before the strange girl left.

She looked around ten years younger than my children but quite older than my grandchildren. From her garments, I could tell that she came from some city. No village girl would wear jeans, a tank top, and a shirt, and would never wear a backpack. Village people preferred loose pants so they could easily go out or work on the farm, and they are easier to wash than jeans as people still prefer washing their clothes by hand.

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O'Neil (0)

"我 (Wǒ)... Um... I... am the daughter of Mrs. Neil, I come here to find Ms. O' as my mother's wish."

"Is that so? Where is N. then? How is she doing lately?"

The lady scratches her head, confusion shown clearly on her figures. The old man realized that her accent sounds quite strange and she did struggle to find a way through words. He suddenly remembers that his ears have been weakened.

"Follow me!" Clearly, Mr. Victor speaks a lot slower this time.

The cemetery is right at the center, surrounded by fields. Except for the dirt way leading from the bank to the burial ground, there is no official trail. The only way through is stepping on the low walls that people built to "keep their clan's zone". While walking through the grass patch, eyes must be stuck to the ground to avoid craps that some buffalos or cows left. The way doesn't make the old struggle but the young.

The zone they need to reach is one of the furthest.

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Neil (1)

I was doubting it back when I greeted for a while but there was no response. Now that I have realized that this is a family burial ground, there is no doubt about the owner of the house. However, I don't have any specific feelings. The one that is related to the person now in her peaceful long sleep is my mother. I didn't have any idea about her until my mother recovered from an illness and insisted on finding her sister.

I glance at my watch and recognize that it has stopped working. I pull out my phone to see the time then. Maybe that action makes the old man thought that I am in a hurry or out of patient, he frantically put down the rest of the incense sticks on some tombs and leads me out of the cemetery.

"If you have some time to spare, come over to my place for a drink, would you?"

My feeder bus won't come in another hour, so I follow him back to his place. His place is large enough to build a small villa, but the house is small and simple. Two third of the land is occupied by an artificial square pond and a garden. The pond doesn't have much water left in it, the green water squeezes itself in a far corner. The garden is as wide as the pond, full of different types of vegetables. There is a trellis full of squash, zucchini, and cucumber in form of a low pergola next to the house. The house must be rebuilt recently, high ceiling and spacious, cobbled with decorative glazed tiles, which give a modern look. The furniture, on the other hand, is the old-fashioned, simple-styled and solid, made of tali whose color has turned into blackish brown after years of using. Altogether, these elements don't quite match with each other, a new house with old furniture surrounded by the old setting of the pond and garden – like any other old house in this village, but the connection of every detail in this weird combination is undeniable and unbreakable.

When I finished washing my hands and brushing off the grass, the old man has settled down on the front porch. Both hands put on his walking stick, he looks out the garden but nothing stays in his sight, as if he is looking through to some places, some events, or some people in the far glorious past. I sit down on the porch, stretch my legs down the stairs.

"When will your children and grandchildren come home?"

"They are working and studying in the city. They only come back on long holidays or sometimes a year. How old are you? Are you still going to school or working?"

I get the first sentence but understand only a bit from the later part. Suddenly, I got a call informing me that the feeder is early and they are waiting for me right outside the village. I gather my belongings quickly and say goodbye to the old man.

As I turn around to close the gate, I catch him sitting as still as a statue, looking out the garden.

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Neil (2)

I come back home exhausted after the long flight, greeted by silence and darkness. The odd silence covers the entire apartment like a thick dust cover, weighed down by darkness. My mother is not the talkative type, either the television addicted type, but never before does she leave the house in total darkness. Turning lights on and forgetting to turn them off is her pattern. However, greeting me at this moment is a dark house. Dark and silence.

I don't even know when has my suitcase slipped off my hand. I hurry in and turn on the lights, looking everywhere. Everywhere. But no sight of my mother.

It's ten at night. However, I can't help knocking on every single door on the floor, asking about my mother. Every second passes by and I become more desperate that no one could give me an answer. It takes forever until I find a middle-aged lady who owns a grocery store on the ground. She says that she saw my mother took off a few days ago with a bag, but she was too busy she couldn't find a chance to ask where my mother headed to. That's too good a clue. Apart from this apartment, my mother only has one place, so I immediately buy a ticket for a coach to get there.

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O'Neil (3)

Dawn.

My legs almost give in as I see the light coming out of the small house. It's a small house surrounded by a narrow yard which is even older than the late aunt's place in a remote village of a faraway country. My mother is making breakfast in the cramped ash-grey kitchen.

"Neugeanie! You're home."

"Oh, Mom!"

I meant to say more but words are stuck in my throat. I suddenly think of the old man, I forgot to ask for his name, sitting on the front porch of the empty house. The man's figure drifts away, hidden in the silent village.

Opened door.
Closed gate.
Nobody's home.

Josephine Dawn
1410.2020