Chapter 11 — Seeds After the Rain

Part III — Risk of Obliteration

The article about the small garden project was published in the education section of the city newspaper in early November, accompanied by some beautiful photos of the garden and a short interview with Quynh Nhu. The whole club happily shared the article throughout the chat groups, proudly showing it off to friends and relatives. During that week, the number of students visiting the garden during recess increased significantly, many of them were curious to see for themselves the place that had just been featured in the newspaper.

But that joy didn't last long. One Wednesday afternoon, when Gia Huy came to the garden as usual, he saw that the atmosphere in the garden was unusually heavy. Anh Duong was standing and talking to Mr. Binh, both of their faces were tense. Quynh Nhu sat alone on a familiar stone slab, holding a piece of paper in her hand, her eyes blankly looking into space.

"What's up?" Gia Huy asked, quickly walking closer to Quynh Nhu.

She looked up at him, her eyes red as if she had just cried. "The school just received a notice," she said, her voice shaking, showing him the paper. "The school board decided to expand the school's parking lot next semester, to meet the growing demand from parents picking up and dropping off teachers. The land chosen for expansion... was this garden."

Gia Huy took the paper, skimmed through the official announcement from the school board, with cold administrative words: "...based on the school's actual need for parking space, and after considering existing land use plans, the board of directors decided to change the purpose of using the land behind the gymnasium (currently used by the Environmental Club as an experimental garden) to the purpose of building an expanded parking lot, expected to start construction at the beginning of the second semester of the year. learn this..."

"No way," Gia Huy exclaimed, feeling like someone had just poured a bucket of cold water into his heart. "After everything the garden has contributed, after just being in the news, how could such a decision be made?"

"That's why I find it even more confusing and unfair," Anh Duong said, her voice full of indignation, stepping closer. "Just when the project was most widely recognized, it was decided to be wiped out. It is said that this decision was discussed months ago, it was only officially announced today."

Teacher Binh, his face full of fatigue and disappointment, sat down next to the group. "I just met with the principal to ask more clearly," he said, his voice sad. "The main reason is because the number of parents dropping off students by car is increasing. The school's current parking lot has long been overloaded, causing congestion every hour after school. The school board has surveyed many options, and the land behind the gymnasium is considered the most feasible option because of its convenient location, suitable area, and legally, this is only land temporarily used for a pilot project, not an official school project."

"But it was two years of effort for the whole club," Quynh Nhu said, her voice choked up, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. "It's my father's mango tree..."

She didn't finish her sentence, just bowed her head, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress her emotions. Gia Huy, unable to help himself, sat down next to her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder, wanting to convey a little comfort even though he knew that no words could ease this pain at that moment.

"Is there any way to protest this decision?" Gia Huy asked Mr. Binh, trying to keep his voice calm even though inside he was also boiling with a similar feeling of injustice.

Teacher Binh pondered for a moment before answering. "The principal said that if the club has a convincing plan, proves that the value of the garden outweighs the need for parking, or proposes a viable alternative solution, the school board is willing to reconsider. But he must tell the truth, this is not an easy task. Parking is a practical need, supported by many parents and teachers, while the garden, despite its educational value, is still only considered a side project, not a mandatory item. in the curriculum."

"So how much time do we have left?" Anh Duong asked, her voice determined.

"The official decision will be approved at the school board meeting at the end of this semester, about six weeks from now," Mr. Binh replied. "If you want to change your decision, you need to prepare a convincing plan before that time."

Six weeks. Gia Huy calculated in his head, feeling that the time was both terrifyingly long and short. Long, because I have to wait anxiously every day; short, because to change a carefully considered decision from the school board, it requires a lot of effort and strategy that the group has never had experience implementing before.

Quynh Nhu, after calming down somewhat, raised her head, her eyes were still red but a ray of determination shone. “I won't let this garden be wiped out so easily,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. "Dad didn't give up when he found out he was sick, and I won't give up now either."

"We will fight together with you," Anh Duong said immediately, holding her friend's hand tightly.

"Me too," Gia Huy said, without hesitation. "No matter what I have to do, I will help."

Quynh Nhu looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude mixed with a bit of surprise at that determination. "Thank you," she said softly.

That afternoon, the whole group sat for a long time under the mango tree, not doing anything specific, simply being together, looking at the garden with a completely different look than usual - no longer the eyes of those who were taking care of a familiar project, but the eyes of those who were trying to memorize every small detail, in case these were the last days they could see the garden in this form.

That night, when he got home, Gia Huy couldn't concentrate on his homework like usual. He sat in front of his desk, opened his laptop and tried to draft some ideas for a campaign plan, but his mind kept spinning with the image of Quynh Nhu bowing her head and her shoulders shaking when she heard the bad news. He had never seen her so weak, even when talking about his father, and that made him even more determined to do something, even though he didn't know exactly where to start.

He reviewed in his mind what he knew about how to mobilize public opinion, about how community campaigns are often deployed - he had seen a few fundraising campaigns, a few signature drives on social networks that his friends sometimes shared, but had never really paid attention to understanding how they worked. Now, when he himself is faced with the urgent need to do the same thing, he realizes that he has many advantages that perhaps he has never realized the true value of - extensive relationships with students in many grades and grades, communication skills to persuade others, and a little experience in making videos and creating media content from the last Club report.

He opened the class chat group and looked at the long list of friends he had known through many years of school, through sports clubs, and through gatherings with Dang Khoi's group of friends. For the first time, he looked at that list not to ask out or chat, but to consider who could be potential supporters of a campaign to protect the garden.

But soon, another worry crept into his mind. If he publicly advocates for a campaign like this, he will no longer be the "sociable, cheerful, popular Gia Huy" like the image he has worked hard to build over the years at each new school. He will become a person with a clear stance, which may cause some people to disagree, and may even be ridiculed more than the gentle jokes like "Huy Vuon" that he is familiar with. But when he thought of Quynh Nhu's miserable face, of the small mango tree that was quietly growing every day, he put those worries aside, telling himself that this time, there were things more important than preserving a perfect image in the eyes of others.

On the way home, Gia Huy passed by the area expected to become an expanded parking lot, trying to imagine the scene of concrete covering the entire green garden, the mango tree being cut down, the flower trellis flattened. That thought made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He never thought he would feel so attached and fiercely protective of something, but now, faced with the risk of losing the garden — and perhaps, to some extent, losing what he had begun to build with Quynh Nhu — he realized he was willing to do anything in his power to prevent that from happening.