Chapter 19 — Climbing Through the Storm

Six weeks after the storm, right when the cast on Thắng's hand was removed, another crane appeared on the coastal sandbank where column 42 had broken in half, but this time not in an emergency situation, but according to a previously scheduled plan.

The steel column temporarily erected during the storms, although still standing for the past six weeks, has now been replaced by a solid centrifugal concrete column, according to standard design, with a reinforced foundation much deeper than the old column, part of the new risk assessment process that Thắng and Lượng proposed, approved by the corporation just three weeks after the article was published.

"The foundation is one meter two deeper than the old column," Vọng said, standing next to Thắng, pointing to the new design drawing. "Including an anti-erosion reinforcement layer of crushed stone around the base of the foundation, as per your recommendation." Thắng nodded and turned his right wrist. It was still a bit stiff after six weeks of immobility but was able to grip normally again, a feeling that was both strange and familiar as he watched his hand function smoothly after a long time of having to depend on his left hand.

"Can I climb up to check one last time before pulling the rope?" He asked the physical therapist, who happened to be present at the final follow-up session this morning and whom he persuaded to stop by the scene to see the actual recovery situation.

"Your forearm is healed, but the muscles are about twenty percent weaker than normal compared to before the injury." The doctor replied, checking the range of motion of his wrist joint one last time. "I recommend starting again from low altitudes, gradually increasing, not rushing back to the same work intensity immediately." Thắng nodded, accepted the advice even though he was still a little impatient, and he decided to let Vọng and another worker pull the main connection wire, while he only monitored from the ground, a role that six weeks ago he never thought he would accept so easily.

Khánh Thi arrived at the scene a little later. As soon as she got out of the car, she quickly put on a helmet, her face unusually radiant.

"I just received the official decision," she said as soon as she approached Thắng, her voice could not hide the excitement. "The contract has an indefinite term, uncle. Three months earlier than the usual schedule."

"Worthy," Thắng said, a warm smile appearing on his face. "Congratulations."

"Thank you for your suggestion," she replied, her eyes slightly watery even though she tried to smile to hide her emotion. "I didn't think I would get this far when I started, I simply thought I needed a higher paying job to support Bin and mom."

"Sometimes simple reasons lead to not so simple paths," Thắng said, looking out at the new pillar being erected, straight in the middle of the sand now covered with weeds that had regrown after the storm, a sign of time passing and life gradually recovering.

The meeting with the general director that Khánh Thi had been worried about for many nights before, which took place three weeks ago, was much simpler than she had imagined. There was no formal meeting room with dozens of people sitting around as she imagined, only a small meeting at the branch office, where the general manager, a man in his sixties with a slow voice, sat and listened to her tell the whole story without interrupting once.

"What do you think is the most important thing we need to change?" He asked, when Khánh Thi finished telling.

She had prepared this answer in her head all week before, but when faced with the truth, she still had to take a deep breath before speaking.

"I think, the guys above need to trust the numbers measured in the field more than the numbers on the software," she said. "Uncle Thắng measured for three years and wrote three documents, but it still doesn't have the weight of an automatic score. If the system doesn't change the way it listens to people in the field, no matter how much emergency maintenance funds it has, it will be difficult to avoid the same thing repeating somewhere else." The general manager nodded slowly, jotted something down in his personal notebook, and the meeting ended with a specific promise: the new risk assessment process would be piloted at Duyên Hải first, with the direct participation of the field operations team in validating and updating seasonal risk scores, rather than leaving the decision entirely to automated software.

The column erection session went smoothly, much faster than the previous time because there was no longer the pressure of life and death weighing on each decision, and when the concrete column finally stood, concrete was poured to fix the base, the whole team stood back, admiring their achievement.

"Much more beautiful than the old column." Cả Xuyên commented, his hand resting on a small stick, a sign that his knees were a little weaker after the recent stressful work. "More definitely, I guarantee this tree can withstand at least five more storms."

"You have two more years until you retire, right?" Thắng asked, sitting down next to Cả Xuyên on an old concrete block left over from the demolition of the previous column foundation, a question he had avoided for a long time but today suddenly felt the need to say it.

"One and a half years left," Cả Xuyên replied, his voice a bit nervous. "After what happened this time, I think maybe I'll take a break a little sooner. This knee can't stand another storm."

Thắng remained silent, feeling a small loss creeping into his heart when thinking of the day when his companion for more than twenty years would no longer be by his side every time he was on duty during a storm, but he also understood that was the natural law of career, of age, of life.

"Then I have to teach everything I know to the children before retiring," he said, trying to keep his voice light even though his heart was a bit heavy.

"Doing this." Cả Xuyên smiled, pointing towards Vọng who was instructing a new young worker on how to check the tightness of the ground connection. His voice rang out as clearly as Thắng's the day before, an image that echoed what Thắng had done with Khánh Thi and Vọng many months ago, a cycle of experience passed down through each generation of electricians.

Khánh Thi stood looking at that scene, and in her mind appeared the image of herself standing on the eighth step of the exercise pole, trembling and not daring to move, less than a year ago, a short period of time that completely changed her path.

At noon, the whole team sat and rested under the shade of a makeshift tarpaulin, eating the boxed lunch they brought with them, a normal lunch with nothing special compared to the hundreds of other lunches they had eaten together in the field, but today, the atmosphere had a completely different lightness, no longer the constant tension of the days on duty during the storm.

"Mr. Lượng congratulated the new column, saying he was sorry he couldn't come because he was meeting with the inspection team from the corporation," Vọng said, reading the message he just received on his phone.

"What inspection team is that?" Khánh Thi asked, curious.

"Pilot evaluation of the new process before expanding to other branches," Thắng replied that he had heard Lượng briefly tell the story the day before. "If the pilot in Duyên Hải is successful, they plan to apply it to the entire Central region next year."

"So that means the story of column 42 doesn't end here," Khánh Thi said, a gentle sense of pride spread through her when she thought that their story could help other districts, other electrician teams, other unknown poles that could now be reinforced more promptly thanks to a changed process.

"That's right." Thắng nodded, looking out at the new pillar standing firmly in the noon sunlight, its shadow casting a long shadow on the sand, completely different from the broken image lying flat in half that he had witnessed six weeks ago. "Sometimes a fallen pillar is the only way for people to look directly at a problem that has been silently existing for a long time." Cả Xuyên patted Thắng's shoulder and laughed loudly, the laughter echoing throughout the deserted sandy beach.

"You sound like a philosopher, so I can eat," he joked, causing the group to laugh, a laughter that relieved after weeks of tension, a normal but precious sound that only those who had been through a real storm together could fully understand its meaning.

In the afternoon, when the sun subsided, the whole team packed up their tools and prepared to leave, leaving behind the new pole standing tall in the middle of the sand, waiting for the official pulling of the wire next week to connect to the general power grid of the entire Hải Lộng - Vàm Sương line, a small but stronger link than ever in the entire system, a silent testament to what has changed since that stormy night.