Chapter 8 — Late Table Lady

Khang's bike repair shop is located at the end of the alley next to the Old Market, the sign says "Pham Gia - Bicycle repair, air pump, quick patch". The word "quick" has half disappeared, only "beauty" remains, causing Huy to declare that the shop specializes in repairing cars for people with bland personalities.

Khang did not correct Huy for talking too much. He gave An a towel and told her to wipe the dust off the old boards. The group came here after school to borrow a drill set and repaint the bookshelf. Grandma Khang sat on the porch, next to her was a basket of water spinach and a radio broadcasting the weather news.

“New guest?” she asked An.

“My classmate,” Khang replied.

“Who knows how to eat potatoes?”

An raised his hand. She smiled and placed a plate of potatoes on the table. Mai and Huy immediately sat down. Khang shook his head but did not stop.

An observed the shop. Half are bicycles hanging on hooks, the other half are tool shelves. The space is narrow but tidy. Each wrench has its own place, each box of screws is labeled with handwriting. Khang works with quiet concentration, different from the sarcasm in class.

“Who did you learn your craft from?” An asked.

"My father. He passed away when I was in eighth grade. My grandmother kept the shop."

An put down the towel. “I'm sorry.”

"It's okay. You didn't kill him."

Mai glanced at Khang. “Do you use this phrase with everyone?”

“Only to people who say sorry for unrelated matters.”

An took a bite of the potato and said no more. She realized that Khang's family story was not a sympathetic scene for her to enter. It was a part of his life he had learned to carry without letting it dictate every conversation.

Huy discovered an old bicycle with a distorted front basket. He asked if he could fix it. Khang said yes, but Huy had to remove the front wheel. Ten minutes later, Huy dropped three black dragons and looked at them as evidence of a crime.

“How can you fix it?” Khang asked.

“I will use my observation ability.”

“You are observing very actively.”

An picked up the black dragons and arranged them by size. She remembers building a wooden house model with her mother as a child, but gave up because the maid did it for her. She asked Khang how to place each detail, then first removed a stuck screw herself.

“Don't use force,” Khang said. “Use the right angle.”

“I often use force.”

"I know."

“Where do you know?”

“From the way you pull out the first desk drawer.”

An recalls. He had been observing her since day one, not because of her shoes or watch but because of her clumsy actions. That made her both embarrassed and reassured.

A man wearing a gray shirt came to the store and asked Khang about the notice posted outside the alley. He is a representative of the residential group and said that the old market area may soon be partially cleared to make a road to the hotel project. The car repair shop is located in the affected area.

Khang stood straight. “When?”

"There is no specific schedule yet. Just a survey."

“My house has a rental certificate.”

"I know. When there is an official announcement, everyone will be invited to a meeting."

The man left. Huy is not joking. Mai put down the brush. An looked at Khang and saw him clenching his fingers on the edge of the table.

“My father's project…” An began.

Khang interrupted: “I know you haven't decided.”

“But our family is involved.”

"I know."

“You might hate me.”

Khang smiled faintly. "Hating the person standing in front of you is easier than hating a plan. But it's not necessarily fair."

An wanted to explain that her father had not decided yet, that she would ask, that she did not want anyone to lose their home. Those sentences sound like promises from someone who isn't suffer the consequences. She remained silent, took the paint and continued to sweep it on the shelf.

In the evening, the group completed the first board. Huy suggested hanging it on his bicycle and carrying it around the neighborhood to offer books. Khang agreed, but said he had to ask permission from each house. Mai designed a small flyer, An created a list to borrow books without real names, just phone numbers or classes.

Khang looked at her spreadsheet. “You still write a lot.”

“I'm trying to write less.”

“So this is progress.”

Grandma brought out four cups of iced tea. She looked at the sign and said: "It's good to have books in the school yard. Young people with places to sit will be less likely to wander."

An asked: "Do you think this market can be maintained?"

She was silent for a moment. "Land changes hands, but memories don't know where to go. People often think that demolishing a house erases what happened in it. That's not the case."

Khang bent down to continue turning the screw. An looked at him, then at the sign with missing letters. She understood for the first time that the yard and the car repair shop were more than just a few square meters. They are places where people learn to live together.

On the way home, An walked with Mai. She said that she had to tell the truth to the group tomorrow.

“What are you most afraid of?” Mai asked.

“I'm afraid you'll think everything I do is an act.”

“Do you act?”

“Yes. From day one.”

"Everyone acts a little bit. Huy acts like he's stupid so no one will ask him what he's worried about. Like he acts confident so no one knows he's afraid of being looked down upon. I act carefree because I don't want anyone to ask why my photos always have the same angle."

An turned. “What do you like to photograph?”

“Things that are about to disappear.”

Mai did not explain further. An remembers the sign of the car repair shop, the corrugated iron roof in the backyard, and the damp pages of books. She began to understand why Mai was interested in the project.

The next day, before class, An placed the letter on the table. She didn't know who would read it first, but this time she didn't hide it in a drawer. When Khang arrived, he saw the paper but did not open it. He just pulled up a chair and sat down and said: "If you want to talk, say it directly. The letter makes it easy for people to guess the tone."

An took a deep breath. The classroom door opened, Mai walked in, then Huy, then Nhu. Four people sat around the end table. Outside in the hallway, the sound of the drum signaling the first period rang out. An looked at each person and placed his hand on the paper.

“I have something to say.”

An told her real name, family and reason for transferring schools. She didn't use words that made her sound like a victim, nor did she turn her father into a controller. Mai put her hand on the table, Huy stopped typing, Nhu looked straight. Khang just asked if she wanted the group to know about the black car and the gym card.

“No need,” An replied. "That's a private part. I will clarify things related to the project."

Mai nodded first. “I'm upset because my actor is poor, but I understand you're afraid of being looked at differently.”

Huy said: “I'm annoyed because you don't know the price of bread, but that can be fixed.”

Like asking: "Have you ever planned to use the house money to solve anything?"

An told the truth: "Yes. Many times."

“Have you used it yet?”

“I used the company printer to print documents, and was planning on paying for the pallet.”

Khang nodded. “So we record it, then agree on how to handle it.”

An felt his breathing lighten. No one declared her completely innocent, but no one pushed her from the table. They opened the income and expenditure table together, added the family resources section, and then decided that all support must be announced in advance.

Teacher Hoang walked in just as the group finished. The teacher asked Does the class know yet? Khang said the group will notify the class, but will not make private details public. The teacher agreed, reminding that the truth is not a license to be curious.

At noon, An returned to the shop with the group. She introduced herself to grandmother Khang by her full name. She looked at her and said: "I know. People who don't know the price of potatoes are not bad people, they just have never bought them."

An smiled shyly. She gave her a basket of screws and told her to sort them. Huy asked if it was necessary to change the shop's name to "Pham Gia and the little owner". Khang threatened to lock the door.

While working, Khang whispered: "You don't need to tell everything to prove it."

"I know. But I don't want you to have to guess."

“I already know you enough not to guess.”

An looked at him. “What do you know?”

"You don't know how to use a wrench, but you know how to listen to others. You often want to pay, but you're learning first. You're more afraid of being hated than you are of losing comfort."

“You observe too much.”

“Auto repair requires hearing small noises.”

The team finished repairing the shop's tool shelves, then applied new labels. An wanted to buy a box of waterproof labels, but Khang said to use old paper covered with tape. She agreed, cutting each piece herself. Huy looked and said: "You are really poor now."

An threw a piece of paper at him. “I'm just saving.”

“I call it evolution.”

In the afternoon, my grandmother told me that the shop used to have a red bicycle, which was the first one Khang repaired himself. The car was given away many years ago, but Khang still keeps the bell. He showed it to An. The bell was scratched but still rang.

“You keep it for memories?” An asked.

“Because it still works.”

Click to try. The clear sound echoed throughout the shop. She thought about her expensive watch; it's accurate but has never helped anyone go far. The old bell was only small, but people could hear it.

Before leaving, Khang gave An a piece of paper with a schedule for part-time work. He said she didn't need to accept it if she found it too much. An accepted two sessions per week, not to prove his poverty but to understand the group's work.

“I will pay right,” Khang said.

“I know.”

“No incentives.”

“I want that.”

The two shook hands as if signing a contract, then burst out laughing because An's hands were stained with oil.