Chapter 25 — Mother's Last Painting

"Should we calculate preservation fees, restoration fees, and material costs?" The complainant immediately fell silent. Co Hanh Chu often came to help. He spoke little and worked with steady hands. One time, after helping me move a box of paintings into the warehouse, he suddenly asked: "What do you want to do in the future?" I said: "Reorganize Mom's restoration notes, open a restoration room." He said: "Is there a shortage of people?" I looked at him. "Do you know how to restore paintings?" He said: "I don't know. But I know how to carry boxes, make tea and stop people." Aunt Chu stood beside us and coughed. "Mr. Co, don't talk too much. I haven't retired from the job of blocking this person yet." I laughed. It was the first time in a long while that I truly smiled. One year later, the Hua family's restoration room opened. The restoration room was small, housed in a little building in the backyard. The sign was made from an old wooden board taken down from my father's tea shop. Aunt Chu wrote a few words herself. Thanh Hoa Restoration. On opening day, Ms. Truong brought a basket of pomegranates. "My mother liked this the most that year. Thanh Thanh, from now on your life will be bright and prosperous." Tieu Duong also came. She quit her job at the old restoration center and came to be my assistant. "The director knew I was coming to work for you, and his face turned pale." Aunt Chu said: "This girl is a talkative girl, suitable for looking after the front counter." Tieu Duong laughed. "I still know how to scold people." Co Hanh Chu donated a set of tools. He said: "Congratulations, Ms. Hua." I looked at him. "Ms. Hua sounds like the owner of a teahouse." He laughed. "So it's called artist Hua." Not long after the opening, Tham Minh Trach also arrived. He stood outside the door, not entering. Compared with a year ago, he had become much thinner and had grown quiet. In his hand he carried a cloth bag. "Thanh Thanh, this is what my father asked me to give you." I refused to take it. He said: "Inside are the books he kept for many years. The money he spent on school, the expenses at home, the money he had taken from my parents; he recorded it all. He said he would repay whatever he could." I said: "Leave it to the lawyer." Tham Minh Trach nodded. He placed the cloth bag next to the door. "After this I will leave this city." I said nothing. He looked at the pomegranate tree in the yard. "When I was a child, I always felt that this was my home. Later I realized that I never learned what other people's things were." I said: "It's not too late to learn now." He smiled bitterly. "It's late. At least for me, it's late." He turned and left. When he reached the beginning of the alley, he turned to look back. I did not look at him. I kept my head bowed as I wiped a restored knife. The blade was thin enough to catch the light after cleaning. Aunt Chu walked over. "Have you softened yet?" I said: "No." She nodded. "Good. People can forgive themselves, but they cannot forgive the dead." I put the knife back in the box. "I know." By afternoon, the restoration room was closed. I went alone to the master bedroom in the front yard. My parents' photos were still on the table. I placed the first restoration fee received today in front of the photo. "Dad, Mom, I opened the door." The pomegranate tree outside the window swayed in the wind. A ripe pomegranate fell to the ground and cracked. Red pomegranate seeds rolled out, sparkling. I walked outside, bent down and picked up the pomegranate. Mrs. Truong stood next door and called out: "Thanh Thanh, tomorrow I will stew chicken soup for you!" Tieu Duong called from the backyard: "Artist Hua, someone brought in a painting so torn that the shape cannot be seen, can you fix it?" Aunt Chu scolded her: "How can you call it torn to the point where you can't see the shape? It should be called seriously damaged." Co Hanh Chu's voice also came: "I have already moved the box in." I stood in the yard, suddenly feeling that this house was finally alive again. Not because of how many people lived in it, but because everyone who should not have stayed had left. All the things that should return are slowly coming back. I took the pomegranate and walked towards the backyard. "Fix." Tieu Duong poked his head out. "Artist Hua, this painting is very difficult." I said: "If it's difficult, slowly fix it." Aunt Chu looked at me, smiled and shook her head. "Exactly like your mother's spirit." I put the pomegranate on the table, put on gloves. The moment I spread out the painting, the old paper made a very soft sound. It was as if a period of time covered in dust had finally seen the light. I bowed my head and picked up the restored dagger. This time, I won't let anyone take away what belongs to me.