Chapter 13 — Reef Keeper

A few days after the emotional conversation with Mrs. Bay Xuyen, Khue decided to go back to see her again, this time bringing her father's diary, hoping that the old words could evoke more memories that had been obscured by time in the old woman's mind.

Mrs. Bay Xuyen was drying a new batch of dried fish in her yard when Khue arrived. Seeing her carrying an old leather-bound notebook, she stopped, her eyes flashed with emotion when she realized what it was.

"Your father's diary?" She asked, her voice soft as if afraid to disturb the sleeping memories.

"Yes." Khue nodded and sat down next to her. "I want to read the last few paragraphs to her, before Dad passes away. Maybe it will help her remember something."

Khue turned to the last pages, slowly reading each line of his father's scribbles: notes about the water, about the fish, and in between, more and more exclamations about the strange survey team, about the "strange lights on the reef" that appeared continuously in the last nights.

Mrs. Bay Xuyen listened attentively, her eyes gradually blurred with tears. When Khue read the last line - "I saw a strange light on the reef tonight, I have to go check it out tomorrow" - she suddenly trembled slightly, her hand clutching the hem of her shirt tightly.

"She remembers now." She said, her voice choked. "She remembers that night."

Khue stopped reading and looked at Mrs. Bay Xuyen intently, her heart beating rapidly. "What do you remember, Mrs. Bay?"

"That night," Mrs. Bay Xuyen began to tell, her voice trembling as if she was reliving that very moment, "she was sitting in the yard mending nets. It was almost midnight when she saw three children running briskly past her house, carrying a lantern in their hand, heading towards the wharf. She asked him where he was going at this hour. He said he had to go to the reef to see if there was really a strange ship anchored there, saying there were rumors that someone was secretly surveying at night."

"And then what?" Khue asked, her voice hoarse with emotion.

"You warned him, it was too late, we had to go out tomorrow morning to see, the sea at night was dangerous. But he couldn't speak in time, saying that if we let them finish their work, then there would be no point in going out tomorrow, we would have to arrest them in person to have proof." Mrs. Bay Xuyen wiped her tears with the hem of her shirt, her voice becoming more and more choked. "She remembers him saying, 'Khue is still young, I have to keep this reef for her, in the future she will grow up and have something to live on'. That was the last thing she heard him say. The next morning, people reported that his boat did not return."

Khue burst into tears, unable to hold back anymore. For the past twelve years, she has only known about her father's death through a dry written record, and has never heard the details of the last hours he was alive, still speaking, and still thinking about her. That last sentence — "must keep this crack for him" — was like a knife cutting into her heart, both extremely painful and a strong confirmation of everything she was trying to do today.

Mrs. Bay Xuyen hugged Khue, both women cried in each other's arms, letting all the emotions that had been suppressed for many years flow out.

"I'm sorry, Khue." Mrs. Bay Xuyen said between sobs. "I should have told you this a long time ago, but I was afraid, I was afraid of bringing back the pain for you, afraid that you would blame me for not being able to stop him that night."

"It's not your fault." Khue said, her voice trembling but determined. "My dad is like that. Once he makes up his mind, no one can stop him. I don't blame her, I just wish I could tell him one more time, that I understand, I have continued on the path he left behind."

Mrs. Bay Xuyen pulled away and wiped Khue's tears with the hem of the shirt she was wearing, her movements gentle as if Khue was still the fifteen-year-old child she once comforted after the funeral. "You know, a few years later, there were nights when she dreamed of him, seeing him standing right at the dock, smiling at her as if nothing had ever happened. She woke up, tears soaking her pillow, and kept thinking about whether she had made a mistake or should have kept him that night at all costs."

"There's nothing wrong with you." Khue held Mrs. Bay's hand tightly, her voice earnest. "Your father is an adult, he decided his own path. If anyone is to blame, it is the people who made him risk his life to go out to sea that night, not you, and not even me."

The two sat quietly together for a long time, with only the sound of waves lapping in the distance and the sound of the wind blowing through the dried fish drying on the bamboo frame. The afternoon sunlight gradually faded, casting the last yellow-orange streaks on Mrs. Bay Xuyen's wrinkled face, making Khue suddenly realize that this woman was much older than the image of her in her childhood memories, and she appreciated even more the years she had silently carried the burden of that memory alone, just to protect her from the pain that was not yet time to face.

After the excitement subsided, Khue asked Ms. Bay Xuyen more about other details of that night — if she saw anyone else going out to sea at the same time, if she heard any other boat engines, if anyone in the neighborhood had mentioned seeing anything unusual out at sea that night.

"I vaguely remember," Ms. Bay Xuyen said, trying to recall her memories, "the next morning when they heard the news of the three-boat missing, someone told that night they saw Sau Cong's ship and a strange ship, not a familiar ship in the neighborhood, anchored near the Da Bac reef area. But that story was just a rumor, no one confirmed it for sure, and no one mentioned it again after that, as if everyone deliberately forgot."

"Could that strange ship be the ship of the geological survey team that you told me about?" Khue asked, piecing together the pieces of information in her head.

"I think it's very likely." Mrs. Bay Xuyen nodded. "But remember, this is just what she remembers after many years, it may not be completely accurate. You need more concrete evidence, don't just rely on the words of an old woman with poor memory."

Khue held Mrs. Bay Xuyen's hand tightly, deeply appreciating her sincerity and courage in bringing up a painful memory that she had tried to bury for twelve years. "What you told me is very valuable, Mrs. Bay. This is an important piece of the puzzle that helps me better understand that night. I will find more evidence to verify, but your story has given me a much clearer direction."

On the way home, Khue passed by Mom Vong, where she used to stand with her father watching the sea when she was young. She climbed onto the cliff and stood still, looking out to sea, where the sun was gradually setting, dyeing the sky into a strip of dark purple mixed with orange. She imagined the image of her father, that night, carrying a lantern, walking quickly to the wharf, with the determination to protect the coral reef for her future, even though she did not know that it would be the last trip of her life.

Khue's tears fell again, but this time, mixed with the pain was a strange feeling of closeness, as if the twelve-year gap between her and her father had just narrowed in just one afternoon. She understands more clearly than ever why she chose this path, and she is even more determined to complete what her father left unfinished.

The cool wind blew in from the sea, blowing a few strands of hair across Khue's forehead. She stood there for a long time, until the sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only a few faint streaks of orange light shining on the low clouds. She whispered, her voice so low that only she could hear it over the wind: "Dad, I'm doing exactly as you told me. I'll keep this reef, and I'll find out who made it so you can't return."

That night, Khue called Nguyen and told Nguyen the entire story that Ms. Bay Xuyen had just shared. Nguyen listened in silence, and when Khue told details about the strange ship anchored with Sau Cong's ship that night, his voice became heavy.

"If that's true," Nguyen said, "then it's entirely possible that my father knew about this from the beginning, could even have been nearby, or heard something from Sau Cong himself. No wonder he kept avoiding it every time I asked."

"What are you going to do next?" Khue asked.

“I will talk to you again.” Nguyen replied, his voice was determined but also full of concern. "This time I will tell you what you just learned from Mrs. Bay Xuyen. Maybe it's time for you to no longer be silent."

After the call, Khue sat alone at night, still clutching her father's diary. She feels she is standing at an important crossroads in her journey - where the disparate pieces of the past begin to connect together, gradually revealing a complete picture of what really happened that fateful night twelve years ago. And she knew, that complete truth now depended greatly on whether Uncle Suu was willing to break the silence that had weighed on him for more than a decade.