Chapter 19 — Puppets Under the Lights

The tomorrow that Minh Long promised himself did not come, and the next day after that did not come either. Every time he was about to text and apologize, a vague fear stopped him — fear that the apology wouldn't be enough, fear that Diem My was too disappointed in him, fear of having to explain the whole heartbreaking story about the wood factory that he wasn't really ready to say out loud yet.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere at home is also becoming more and more tense as the day of signing the land sale contract approaches. Minh Long's parents spent the weekend starting to pack up what they could from the lumberyard, a daunting task that the family avoided until the last minute.

"Long, do you want to help your parents clean up the workshop?" his mother asked one Saturday morning, her voice cautious, afraid of touching the pain still fresh in her son's heart.

Minh Long was silent for a moment, then nodded, although his heart was filled with reluctance. He knew he couldn't hide forever, even though having to watch the lumberyard be cleaned out, classified into "keep" and "sell" or even "throw away", was one of the most painful things he could imagine.

That morning, the whole family walked into the workshop together, carrying large cartons to sort things. Minh Long's father, with a heavy expression but trying to stay calm, began to check each puppet, deciding which ones could be taken home to keep, and which ones needed to be sold to antique collectors to make up for the debt.

"This is so beautiful, it should sell for a good price," his father said, holding up an almost complete phoenix puppet, the tail meticulously carved down to each small feather.

Hearing those words, a sudden anger welled up in Minh Long's heart. "Are you going to sell all the puppets you haven't finished yet?" he asked, his voice shaking with suppressed emotions.

"Long, I have no other choice," his father replied, his voice also filled with fatigue and pain. "The money from selling these items will help our family pay off debt, you must understand."

"I don't understand," Minh Long replied, his voice choked. "I don't understand how dad can think of these things as just money, when it's his whole life!"

The atmosphere in the workshop became suffocatingly tense. Minh Long's mother, standing between father and son, tried to calm the situation. "Both of you, calm down," she said, her voice also shaking with emotion. "We are all equally heartbroken, no one wants this to happen. But arguing won't solve anything, it will only hurt everyone more."

Minh Long, unable to bear it any longer, put the puppet he was holding on the table, turned and walked out of the workshop, leaving his parents behind to continue their unfinished work. He went straight to the embankment, sat down, hugged his knees, trying to hold back the tears that were about to overflow.

He stayed there for a long time, until the sun rose, the bright sunlight shining straight down, but he still didn't want to go back, didn't want to have to face the heartbreaking scene taking place in the wood workshop. His phone vibrated a few times, but he didn't bother to check, just let it vibrate in his pocket.

Meanwhile, at school, the situation of the Water Puppet Club is not very positive. Without Minh Long's technical guidance, new members began to become discouraged by slow progress, and some even mentioned wanting to withdraw from the club if the situation did not improve before the upcoming district festival.

"We can't keep waiting for Minh Long forever," a veteran member said at the club meeting, his voice filled with worry. "There are only two weeks left, if he doesn't come back, maybe we should shorten the performance program, only keeping what we can definitely do."

Diem My, standing in front of the group, felt the pressure on her shoulders more than ever. She knew everyone was counting on her to make a decision, but she also didn't know for sure whether Minh Long would come back or not, and she didn't want to give up that hope, even though her heart was still hurt from the text message conversation the day before.

"Give us a few more days," she said, trying to keep her voice calm despite her panic. "I will find a way to contact Minh Long again. If there is still no progress by the end of this week, we will adjust the plan."

After the meeting, Diem My stayed alone by the lake, looking at the puppets arranged on the shore, her heart was heavy with many mixed emotions - worry for the club, missing Minh Long, and even a little anger at the way he treated her in the last conversation. She took out her phone, looked at the unfinished conversation with Minh Long, her finger hesitated on the screen for a long time before finally typing a short message.

"I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm still worried about you, no matter what things are like between us," she wrote. "If you need someone to listen, I'm still here." She sent the message, then turned off the phone, not daring to wait for an immediate response, just quietly packed her things and left in the pale sunset, her heart heavy with worries about both the club and the boy she had gradually opened her heart to love.

Minh Long, still sitting on the embankment as the sky began to fall, finally took out his phone to check, and saw a message from Diem My. He read it over and over again, feeling the sincerity in every word, even though she had every right to be angry and ignore him after what he said. A deep feeling of regret welled up in his heart, mixed with the pain that still lingered from the morning at the wood workshop.

He intended to text her back right away, but then hesitated, afraid that the words he wrote now, when he was still in such a confused mood, would accidentally hurt her again. He decided to type a short, careful line: "Thank you. I'm sorry about the other day. I need a little more time, but I won't disappear." He sent it, then stood up, wiped the dust off his pants, and prepared to return home, even though his heart was still full of chaos.

When he got home, he saw that his parents had finished part of the cleaning work, the cardboard boxes were stacked in the corner of the yard, some marked "keep," others marked "sell." He stood looking at those cartons for a long time, not having the courage to open them to see what was inside. He just quietly went into the house, avoiding the eyes of his parents who were sitting tiredly in the living room.

That night, when the whole family was asleep, Minh Long went out alone to the backyard, standing in front of the workshop door, which was now much emptier than the last time he saw it. He didn't open the door, just stood there in the dark, listening to the sound of the wind blowing through the crack, feeling like he was witnessing the last moments of something extremely precious that was gradually slipping out of his reach, even though he tried to hold on to it in every way possible.

He thought of Diem My, of the short message she had just sent, of the patience and tolerance she still had for him even though he had treated her unfairly. He promised himself that, as soon as possible, he would find a way to explain everything to her completely, and would not let his own pain continue to hurt those who cared about him. But right now, standing in the darkness of the backyard, looking at the workshop door that is gradually becoming a memory about to be separated, Minh Long only feels a deep sadness, a sadness that he knows will take a lot of time to truly subside.

He sat down on the steps in front of the workshop, not intending to go inside, just wanting to be closer to it a little more before having to go back into the house. He remembered what he once said about each puppet carrying its own soul, awakened by the hands and heart of the artist. He wondered if this factory was sold, if the puppets were scattered everywhere, would that soul still be preserved or would it disappear forever, like a candle blown out by the wind in the middle of the night.

He sat there until the night dew began to seep into his shirt, then stood up, went into the house, and quietly closed the door. Before going to bed, he opened Diem My's message again, re-read every word, and for the first time in many days, he felt a small ray of hope shining through the gloom that was covering his life - hope that, although everything else might change, at least there was still one person willing to patiently wait for him to find himself, even though the road ahead was still very difficult.