Chapter 6 — Forest Keeper

The pickup truck of the Provincial Forest Protection Department stopped in front of the station yard at nearly noon on Thursday, road dust rolled up and then slowly settled under the hot sunlight. Khue was giving Mun - a hornbill that a villager had just brought to the station this morning because he found it lying on the side of the road, its wing seriously injured, suspected to be from a sling shot - to drink water with a dropper when he heard May calling from the yard.

"Miss Khue, the doctor is here!"

She put Mun back in the soft cloth-lined box, gave quick instructions to the assisting assistant, then walked out into the yard, her hands still stained with dried blood that she quickly wiped on the lapel of her uniform. The person stepping down from the passenger seat of the pickup truck was a man in his thirties, tall and thin, his skin not as tanned as that of a long-time mountain dweller, wearing a moss green picnic jacket, thin-rimmed glasses, and carrying a metal suitcase containing bulky veterinary medical equipment.

"Hello everyone, I am Dinh Vu Nguyen, a veterinarian sent by the Department to support," he said, his voice was clear, somewhat more formal than the usual way of speaking at the station, accompanied by a polite but somewhat reserved smile of a newcomer to a completely unfamiliar environment.

Ma Van Loc came out to shake hands and briefly introduce each person in the station. When it was Khue's turn, Nguyen held out his hand, his eyes stopped for a moment on the dried blood on the hem of her shirt, then looked up at her face with curiosity mixed with something like professional assessment.

"You are the person in charge of the rescue area, right? I read the report about the baby white-rumped langur. I was quite impressed with the initial handling." He said, his voice was somewhat polite but sincere.

"Yes, I'm Khue. Just now, there was another injured hornbill. You probably need to see it right away, its wing looks broken." Khue replied briefly, not very interested in social compliments, her mind still preoccupied with Mun's condition.

Nguyen was slightly taken aback by her straightforward, almost brusque manner, but quickly regained his professional demeanor. "Okay, take me to see now."

He followed Khue to the rescue barn behind the station, his gait was somewhat careful, his eyes looking everywhere as if evaluating the facilities. When he arrived, he put down the suitcase of tools, washed his hands with the antiseptic solution he brought, then gently lifted Mun out of the box, his fingers moving expertly along the bird's wing to check.

"Fracture of the upper arm bone, not a slingshot wound as initially reported," he said, his voice had completely changed to a state of professional concentration, no longer polite. "Looking at this wound, I think it's possible that it was caught in a net trap, trying to struggle free, causing a broken bone. Do you have any similar nets in the area that were captured recently?"

Khue paused for a moment, surprised by his sharpness. "Yes, last week the patrol team recovered a bird net near the Nam Dam stream area, but it has not been linked to any specific case."

"Can I see that mesh? The type of mesh, the material, can help further determine how it was injured, and also serve as additional evidence for the violation report." Nguyen said, his hand was still fixing Mun's wing with a small splint taken from the tool suitcase. His movements were so skillful that Khue had to secretly acknowledge in his heart that this person, even though he had just come from the province, really had solid expertise.

"Okay, I'll get it for you later." She stood and watched him work, and couldn't help but be a little impressed by Nguyen's meticulousness and calmness when handling a complicated injury case without appearing flustered even though this was the first day he set foot in an unfamiliar highland ranger station.

After completing the fixation of Mun's wing and injecting painkillers and anti-inflammatories, Nguyen stood up and looked around the rescue cage, from the row of homemade bamboo cages to the small water tank holding turtles. "Did you build this entire facility yourself?"

"Mostly that's it. The station doesn't have its own budget for rescue, I have to manage it myself." Khue replied, his voice a bit defensive, as if he was used to having to explain and defend his efforts in the face of skeptical looks from newcomers, familiar with the standards of the systematic rescue centers downstream.

"No, I don't mean to criticize anything," Nguyen quickly said, realizing her tone was a bit tense. "On the contrary, I find it quite impressive. With such limited conditions, our station's survival and re-release success rate, according to the reports I read, is even higher than some well-invested centers in the province."

Khue was a bit surprised by that straightforward compliment, her defensive feeling eased somewhat. "Thank you. Just do your best at whatever you do."

In the afternoon, the two of them went together to Nau's barn so that Nguyen could periodically check the baby's health. Brown, who was used to the presence of Khue and May, was wary of strangers, clinging tightly to the wooden bar in the corner of the cage, refusing to let Nguyen get close.

"It needs time to get used to it, don't be in a hurry," Khue said, squatting down in front of the cage, holding out his hand to signal Brown to come closer to him first, then slowly let him see Nguyen standing next to him, without any threatening moves. "Just sit still and let it observe you first."

Nguyen followed suit, patiently sitting a distance away, saying nothing, just observing how Khue interacted with the animal. After about fifteen minutes, Brown began to feel less afraid, poking his head out of the corner of the cage, his curious eyes looking towards the strange man.

"You're really good," Nguyen said softly, her voice filled with admiration that really lost her original politeness. "I've studied animal behavior for many years, but looking at the way you do it, it's much more natural and effective than the bookish procedures I was taught."

"Probably because I didn't learn from books, but from the animals themselves," Khue replied, not looking at Nguyen, his eyes still glued to Brown who was slowly crawling closer to the barn fence. "Each animal is unique, there is no general formula that can be applied."

That evening, after a shared meal at the station kitchen - a simple meal with stir-fried wild vegetables, braised stream fish and a bowl of sour bamboo shoot soup, Nguyen sat down with everyone, talking about the places he had worked and the difficult rescue cases he had handled in other conservation areas. He has a naturally engaging and humorous way of telling stories, making the whole station, which is usually quiet in the evening, become more lively.

Khue sat at the corner of the table, eating and listening, occasionally laughing at Nguyen's funny stories about the time he was almost attacked by a black bear that woke up mid-anesthesia. She realized that, despite her initial reservations and a bit of implicit prejudice about "city people not understanding the forest", this man had sincerity and a real passion for his work, not the type of person who just comes to do a mission and then goes home.

When everyone had dispersed to the room to rest, Khue went out on the porch to check on Nau and Mun one last time before going to bed. He saw Nguyen also standing there, holding a flashlight to look into Mun's cage, checking the wing splint.

"Are you still not sleeping?" Khue asked, standing next to him.

"Wanted to check one last time of the day, professional habits," Nguyen replied, not turning to look at her, his eyes still focused on the peacefully sleeping bird. "It'll be fine, but this wing will probably take at least six weeks to heal completely, and it's unlikely that you'll be able to fly again like before."

"What if I can't fly anymore?" Khue asked, her voice low, a question she was always afraid to face with every rescue case.

Nguyen was silent for a moment, then turned to look at her, the flashlight casting a dim halo of light on his face. "Then we'll find another way for it to have the best life possible, even if it's not as perfect as nature naturally is. But I think, with care like this, it has a good chance. Don't think too far ahead, just do your best every day."

That answer, although simple, made Khue feel something strangely relieved in her heart, as if for the first time in a long time, there was someone who understood her constant worries without her having to give a long explanation. She looked at Nguyen, the late moonlight clearly illuminating the features on his face - concentration, sincerity, and a bit of fatigue after a long day of traveling and working without rest.

"Thank you, for today," she said, her voice more sincere than she intended to sound.

Nguyen smiled and nodded slightly. "Thank you for trusting me to participate. I think I will cooperate well."

The two of them stood there for a moment, not saying anything else, just quietly looking at the two animals sleeping peacefully in the dark, before returning to the station together, each returning to their own room, carrying with them a new, albeit vague, feeling of the beginning of something - maybe a trustworthy partner in the arduous journey ahead, or maybe even more.