Chapter 6 — Climbing Through the Storm

The crane carrying the spare steel pole sank in the middle of the red dirt road. It took nearly forty minutes for the driver to drive through the flooded road before reaching the scene of pole 42. When they arrived, the sun was high in the sky, unusually hot after the storm, steam rising from the wet sand, forming a layer of mist on the ground.

The wind was still gusting intermittently, irregularly, sometimes completely calm and then suddenly rushing so strongly that the temporary sunshade almost flew away, two workers had to rush in to hold the anchor poles tightly.

"Level five, level six, shock level seven." Cả Xuyên estimated with experience, watching the homemade flag placed on the roof of the pickup truck flap continuously. "It's acceptable to set up poles on the ground, but not ideal for climbing up high." Thắng nodded, did not say anything more, and directed the group of workers to begin the first step: re-digging the foundation hole, cleaning up the broken concrete, and preparing the foundation for the new column. This is ground work, no need to climb high, and he took advantage of this time to give Khánh Thi his first tasks.

"Check and arrange portable grounding equipment in the correct order of use," he said, pointing to two heavy sets of tools placed on the canvas. "First is the ground clamp, then the wire, and finally the working pole. Remember, when you need to use it, always connect the ground terminal to the ground first, then connect it to the wire above. When removing it, do the opposite."

"Why must it be in that order?" Khánh Thi asked, already starting to arrange the tools according to his instructions.

"Because if you connect the wire to the wire before connecting it to the ground, in that split second, the person holding the pole is the only electrical path if an induced current suddenly appears," Thắng explained, his voice was slow as if he was lecturing even though there was still noisy machinery around. "This order is not a rule to make it difficult, it is something that ensures the person doing the job is still alive to continue doing the job." Khánh Thi nodded, remembering, her hands moving more slowly and carefully, as if each movement now carried a different weight than before.

By noon, the foundation hole had been dug, the new steel column was slowly lifted by the crane and brought into position under Thắng's manual command. The signals he gave to the crane driver were so concise and precise that no words were needed.

"Slowly, slowly, stop, take it easy, okay." He signaled with his hand, without taking his eyes off the contact point between the column's base and the foundation pit, until the steel column was in the correct position, vertical, temporarily held by four cables anchored in four directions.

Sporadic applause rang out from the group of workers, a rare moment of relief amid a stressful day. But Thắng did not stop to celebrate, he immediately checked the verticality with a level, then ordered concrete to be poured to fix the foundation.

"Concrete needs at least four hours to reach the minimum hardness that can withstand the load," he spoke to Lượng over the radio, who was still monitoring the situation from the branch. "While waiting, I let the team start pulling the rope from pole 41, and prepare materials for the next section through pole 43."

"Got it. Seventeen hours left for the hospital," Lượng replied, his voice over the walkie-talkie sounded crackly but the tension was still clear.

While waiting for the concrete to harden, Vọng led a small group to pull the cable from pole 41, the work was heavy but did not require high technology, mainly human strength pulling the coil through muddy roads. Khánh Thi was assigned to help record the pulled rope length data and compare it with the design drawings.

"There's about a hundred meters left to reach column 42," Vọng announced, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, leaving a long trail of mud. "At this rate, the rope pulling will probably be finished at five o'clock in the afternoon."

"So do we still have time to connect before dark?" Khánh Thi asked, writing down the number in the small notebook Thắng gave her that morning.

"Connection must wait until the concrete of column 42 is hard enough. You cannot connect wires to a column that cannot bear the force," Vọng replied, sat down and rested for a while on the side of the road. "So actually today we can only do the preparation step, the official connection must be tomorrow morning," He looked at Khánh Thi for a moment, then suddenly asked a question unrelated to work.

"Are you really planning on doing this job for a long time?"

"Why do you ask?" She looked up, a bit surprised.

"Because when I first joined, I saw many female students give up after the first month," Vọng spoke frankly, with no intention of offending, just the familiar way of speaking of someone who is used to working outdoors rather than talking tactfully. "I thought you were the same. Now that I saw you climbing pole 43 earlier, I'm thinking again."

"I don't have the option to give up," Khánh Thi replied, closing the notebook. "But if I don't have that reason, I will probably still try, because I like the feeling of seeing the work I do produce such clear results. It's not like selling, standing all day and at the end of the day not knowing what you've done," Vọng nodded and said nothing more, but the look in his eyes when he looked at her this time was completely different from the briefing session the day before.

In the afternoon, when the concrete was freezing, the wind began to calm down, the sky was strangely clear, as if nature was pausing to take a breath before continuing. Thắng took advantage of that silence to focus on Khánh Thi.

"Pillar 43 needs someone to climb up to install additional anchor cables, because its foundation also shows signs of erosion," he said, pointing to a slightly leaning pillar not far away. "Not very tall, about fifteen meters. You come with me."

Khánh Thi's heart beat faster immediately, not because of the number fifteen meters, but because this was the first time she was asked to climb a real pole, in a real field, not a practice pole in a safe material yard.

"Can you do it?" She asked, the question popping out before she could even consider whether or not to ask.

"I can't answer that question," Thắng replied, putting his seat belt back on, checking each padlock meticulously like he had done thousands of times in his life. "Only you can answer. But I believe it is, otherwise I wouldn't have called you out."

They walked to the foot of column 43, where Vọng had set up a ladder and briefly checked the condition of the column from the ground. Khánh Thi puts on the belt, checks the main and secondary hooks, in the exact order she learned by heart during practice sessions on the concrete pole in the yard.

"Remember the rules," Thắng said, standing right behind her at the foot of the ladder. "Always keep three points of contact with the pole, only move one hand or one foot at a time. Don't look down unless you need to check foot placement. Look up, look at your hands, look at each step."

"I remember," she replied, her voice shaking slightly but firmly.

She started climbing, slowly but steadily. Thắng climbed right below her at a safe distance, ready to assist if needed. The calm wind made it easier for her to concentrate than the previous exercise, but the real height, the real air, the small crackling sound of the steel pole when weight was applied, all made this experience different from practicing in a safe yard.

At the twelfth step, she stopped, her hands clasped tightly, her breathing quickening.

"I can't go up anymore," she said, her voice choked.

"What do you see right in front of you?" Thắng asked from below, his voice still maintaining the familiar calmness.

"Iron beam," she replied, her eyes fixed on it.

"So just get up there. Don't need to think about the top of the column, don't need to think about the height. Just get up to the iron beam in front of you."

Khánh Thi took a deep breath, her hand moved to the next step, then the next step, her eyes only focusing on the nearest point, not looking further. Step by step, she reached a height of fifteen meters, where additional anchor cables needed to be installed according to Thắng's instructions.

"Now, hook the auxiliary line first," he reminded, his voice unchanged.

She followed, her hands shaking but her movements precise, the familiar "click" sound rang out as the clasp was locked in the right position.

"Good. Now take the tools from me, install the anchor cable at the marked capture point."

The work went slowly but surely, Khánh Thi followed each instruction one by one, her hands gradually stopped shaking as her concentration on the work overcame her fear of heights. When the last rope was tightened, she looked up into the distance for the first time since she started climbing, and the sight before her stopped her.

From that height, she could see the entire coastal area of Hải Lộng after the storm, the stripped roofs, flooded rice fields sparkling in the afternoon sun, and in the distance, the chimney of Hải Lộng Medical Center, where the generator was still running to keep the eleven people on ventilators alive.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Thắng asked, standing a little below her, his voice almost smiling even though she couldn't see his face.

"Scary," she replied, then paused for a second. "But it's also really beautiful."

"Those two things are not mutually exclusive," he said. "Let's go down, there's a lot to do before it gets dark."

They descended the pole slowly and safely, and when Khánh Thi's feet touched the ground this time, she did not stand still and hold tightly to the ladder like she did in the training ground. She turned to look at the top of column 43 once, then took off her helmet, letting the afternoon wind blow through her sweat-drenched hair, a small smile, tired but real, appeared on her lips.