Chapter 14 — Puppets Under the Lights

The final days before the performance passed in a hectic pace. The group practiced almost every day, sometimes late into the night, preparing every smallest detail — from checking all the pole strings, repairing peeling paint on the puppets, to practicing sound coordination with a team of musicians including three students from the traditional music class who were invited to assist.

Three days before the show, during the final rehearsal, an unexpected incident occurred. The Teu puppet - the most important opening puppet of the whole show - suddenly had a long crack along its head while Nam was practicing his turn to greet the audience, perhaps because the wood was old and subjected to constant water pressure during many weeks of practice.

"It can't be," Nam cried out in panic, picking up the cracked puppet to examine it, his voice almost crying. "There are only three days left, how can we fix it now?"

The whole group gathered together, an anxious atmosphere permeated the training area. Diem My picked up the puppet, her face could not hide the panic. "Is there any way to fix it, Minh Long?"

Minh Long took the puppet and looked closely at the crack under the light. The crack runs along the grain of the wood, not too deep but enough to damage the puppet's balanced structure if not treated properly. He remembered a technique his grandfather had taught him, used to repair old cracked puppets without having to start over.

"It can be fixed," he said, his voice calm, causing the group to breathe a sigh of relief. "But it needs to be done tonight, and requires some specialized tools that can only be found..." he hesitated for a moment, "at my grandfather's workshop."

This will be the second time Minh Long has returned to the wood workshop since the opening afternoon with Diem My, but this time it was in an emergency situation, there was no time to prepare mentally as carefully as before. "I'll go with you," Diem My said immediately, without hesitation.

The two hurriedly left the training area and went straight to Minh Long's house. This time, when opening the workshop door, Minh Long no longer felt trembling like the first time, although the nostalgia for him was still present somewhere in the familiar musty air of the room. He quickly went to the corner of the table where he kept specialized repair tools, took out a small wooden box containing specialized glue for thin wood and a few thin bamboo splints.

"This technique is called 'grain patching,'" Minh Long explained as he began work, his hands quickly handling the crack with surprising proficiency. "My grandfather used it to repair old puppets with historical value. He did not want to completely renew it because it would lose its original value. It had to be reassembled according to the original wood grain, using special glue that did not shrink when dry, and then fixed with bamboo for about two days."

Diem My sat next to him, watching attentively, occasionally giving him tools to help him when needed. “You learned so many techniques from him,” she said, her voice full of admiration. "I wonder how many more things he passed on to you."

"A lot," Minh Long replied, focusing on the task at hand. "There are techniques that I have never had a chance to apply. He only told me about them and only taught me the theory. Maybe now, when I start teaching again for the club, I will have the opportunity to really understand and apply everything he taught."

The repair job lasted nearly two hours, requiring extreme meticulousness and patience. While waiting for the first layer of glue to dry before continuing with the next step, the two people sat and rested on old stools in the workshop, the quiet atmosphere with only the sound of crickets echoing from outside.

"Are you scared?" Diem My asked, her voice gentle. "I mean, coming back here, at night, in this urgent situation?"

Minh Long thought for a moment before answering. "A little," he admitted. "But it's not like before. Before, I was scared because it felt like entering here meant having to face his death directly. But now, I think I'm learning to see this place as a place where he lived and loved, instead of just a place where he left."

"It's a big change," Diem My said, her eyes filled with pride for him. "I'm so happy to witness your journey."

They continued the repair work until it was completed, nearly eleven o'clock at night. The Teu puppet is now firmly fixed, the crack is almost invisible after being skillfully handled, just need to wait another day for the glue to dry completely before it can be used again.

"Thank you very much," Diem My said as the two left the workshop, locking the door carefully. "Without you, I don't know how the club would have coped with this incident."

"That's my job," Minh Long smiled, even though he felt exhausted after a stressful evening. "Besides, I think my grandfather would be happy to know that his tools are still being used to save emergencies like this."

On the way to send Diem My home, the two walked tired but satisfied, the feeling of people who had just overcome a difficult challenge together. "Only three days left," Diem My said, her voice both nervous and excited. "Do you think we'll be ready?"

"I think so," Minh Long replied, looking up at the starry night sky. "Not because everything will be perfect, but because I believe in the team spirit. My grandfather once said, a successful show is not a show without mistakes, but a show where everyone overcomes mistakes gracefully."

Diem My nodded and smiled at that philosophy. "I like the way you look at things, Long. You always know how to turn difficulties into meaningful lessons."

They arrived in front of Diem My's house, saying goodbye to each other with a short but warm handshake, a new gesture between the two since the night they confessed their feelings at the park lake. "Sleep well," Diem My said, her eyes sparkling under the gate light. "And thank you, for everything."

When Minh Long returned home, even though it was very late and his body was tired, his heart was still filled with an indescribable feeling of satisfaction. He lay down on his bed, thinking about the next three days, about his first performance after eight long months of staying away from anything related to water puppetry, and felt, even if he was still a little nervous, that he was ready, not only technically, but also mentally, to step into the spotlight with the people he had learned to love and trust along the way.

The next morning, Minh Long woke up earlier than usual, took the opportunity to stop by the workshop before going to school to check on the Teu puppet, which was in the process of drying. He stood in front of the workshop door, the morning sunlight shining through the small window, creating shimmering streaks of light on the old wooden floor. He looked at the Teu puppet lying still on the table, the crack almost completely disappeared under the meticulous patching, and felt a small sense of pride well up in his heart — not only because he had saved the puppet in time, but because he realized that the technique, the technique his grandfather had taught him many years ago, was still useful, could still save seemingly deadlocked situations.

He sat down at the carpenter's table, looked around the workshop, his eyes stopped at the corner of the cabinet where he still kept old photos of old performances. He stood up, approached, and picked up a yellowed photo of him standing among a group of young students, all smiling brightly after a successful performance at the village festival. Minh Long realized that among those young faces, there was also Mr. Phuc, much younger than now, standing next to him with admiring eyes.

He smiled, put the photo back in its place, more carefully than before, then locked the workshop door and prepared to go to school. On the way, he thought about how, perhaps one day, another photo would be taken, capturing the moment he stood among his own students, continuing a tradition that had been preserved for generations. That thought made his steps become lighter, filled with hope for what was to come, not just the performance three days from now, but a long future ahead that he was now no longer afraid to face. He walked faster to get to class on time, in his heart humming a familiar drum melody that he often beat when preparing for a new performance, as an eager welcome for what was waiting ahead, a new beginning that he believed that no matter where he was, he was smiling and watching his every step.