Chapter 16 — Summer After the Rain

To have money to repair the roof, the group opened a food stall in front of the theater. Hau named it "Ha Vang Mart", even though the counter only had popcorn, kumquat tea and three packages of instant noodles neatly stacked on a rickety wooden table. Minh made a price list, scribbled with an oily brush, but mistakenly wrote kumquat tea as "impact tea", causing passersby to stop and read it over and over without understanding the meaning.

Customers came out of curiosity, each inviting the other to stop by and see the strange counter in front of the old movie theater. A child asked why the baker wore a raincoat when the sun was shining. Minh replied that it was a uniform, his voice was so serious that the child couldn't believe it. Linh corrected him that he was wearing it because he hadn't washed another shirt, causing the child to turn to look at Minh with suspicious eyes. The sale was noisy, Hau's sales pitch echoed throughout the small street, but enough money was collected to buy materials for the next repair.

Linh's mother called to say she would return in two days. Her voice on the phone sounded both excited and worried. Linh cleaned the room upstairs, changed the bed sheet, then changed her mind to remove all the clothes because she didn't know where her mother wanted to sleep or which direction she wanted to look. Minh said that adults can usually sleep anywhere if they have a pillow, a clumsy consolation that made Linh feel somewhat less stressed.

While repairing the roof, Minh discovered a brick bearing the old contractor's mark, engraved in the bottom corner, almost unrecognizable if not examined closely in the afternoon sunlight. That mark matches the mark on the Bo Nam Company profile. If Phuc had been in charge of the dyke, his company might have supplied shoddy materials for the very structure that was supposed to protect the town.

They send samples to engineers for testing. The results are not conclusive, but show that the cement layer does not meet standards and the mixing ratio is significantly lower than the prescribed level. Linh saw the picture growing bigger, each new piece hurting her father more, because each discovery showed that he had to fight more than she ever imagined.

In the evening, Minh cooked noodles for the whole group, his hands working quickly on the old gas stove. He mistakenly added sugar instead of salt, and the whole pot of noodles became strangely sweet. Hau ate a bite, his face grimaced, but he still said the taste was very new, trying to swallow it whole so as not to disappoint the cook. Linh laughed so much that she had to turn away, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back.

Minh asked her if she was afraid when her mother came home. Linh said she was afraid that if her mother apologized then everything wouldn't change, afraid that an apology would just be a ritual to close the story and not really heal anything. He replied that he was sorry, not an eraser, but maybe a bandage for people to start treating the wound, a simple image that Linh found more profound than she thought.

The rain came unexpectedly when the stall was most crowded with customers. The food counter was blown sideways by the wind, the noodle packages almost flew off the table. Everyone hugged the price list and laughed, while Linh and Minh ran to hold the canvas roof flapping in the wind. When the tarpaulin collapsed, they both fell into the popcorn bucket, corn kernels splashing all over their bodies. Minh said this was the most romantic scene of his life. Linh said he had low standards, although in her heart she also thought that there was something very memorable about that scene.

The day Linh's mother told the story to the group, she brought a plastic box containing a copy of the file. Her hand shook slightly when she opened the lid. Each page is carefully wrapped in a moisture-proof bag. Mai asked everyone not to touch paper with dirty hands, Hau immediately put on yellow dishwashing gloves, causing the serious atmosphere to break into laughter. Linh's mother looked at him and said that at least he had the spirit to protect evidence, even though the way she expressed it was somewhat strange.

She said that after leaving An Binh, she did not immediately cut off contact with Linh's father. The two of them sent letters through an acquaintance in the city. Each time they sent letters, they were uncertain whether the letters would arrive or not. Each letter had a question about their daughter, but no one asked if the other was still alive, as if both were afraid the answer would make things worse. When she heard that Mr. Khai was seriously ill, she bought a ticket home that night. However, Phuc appeared at the bus station, saying that if she returned, Linh would lose her scholarship and be dragged into the lawsuit. She was afraid, so she left again, still clutching the unused ticket.

“You let him decide your life?” Linh asked.

"At that time, I thought I just wanted you to be safe. If I didn't realize that peace was not the same as ignorance."

A woman in the group asked why her mother didn't report to the police. She replied that she had no proof, and Phuc had money and connections. The answer was simple but full of helplessness. The answer doesn't satisfy anyone, but it's true. Linh realized that adults in the past were not characters who saw the entire map. They just walk in the fog, choose a direction and then live with the consequences, just like she is having to do now.

After the meeting, Mai suggested opening a transparent fund account. All revenues and expenditures of the theater must be disclosed every week and posted on a notice board at the entrance. Hau created a spreadsheet, naming the columns "money for corn", "money for repair" and "money from nowhere". Mrs. Nam forced him to change the last column to "waiting for verification", her voice was strict like a real chief accountant.

Minh surveyed the roof of the theater and discovered a wooden beam that was almost completely rotten, with only the outer shell remaining to keep its shape. If it rains heavily, the screening room will be dangerous. The repair cost exceeds the amount of money they have. Linh tried to sell her car, but her mother stopped her. She said the theater cannot be saved by displacing another person, even if that person is her daughter.

So the whole street organized a weekend market. Vegetable sellers, second-hand goods sellers, piano teachers, children selling doodles. Ha Vang became a place where people both donated and argued about the price of cakes that were authentic to the countryside market. Minh was in charge of the stage, but was forced by a little girl to be his partner in the magic show. He hid the coin in her ear, and she hid his screwdriver, turning the whole show into a humorous chase.

At the end of the day, they had enough money to buy wooden beams. Linh stood in the middle of the yard, watching her mother count money with Mrs. Nam under the yellow streetlight. She understands that help doesn't make the debt go away; it turns the debt into a promise to make this place worthy of everyone's trust, a heavy but warm responsibility.

After the market, Linh made a list of materials and wrote down the names of contributors, careful not to miss anyone. She wants everyone to be thanked in the right way, not to embellish the report but so that those with little voice know the part they have seen, even if it is just a parking session or a basket of vegetables contributed to the shared kitchen.

Minh discovered that an invoice had the wrong price of wood, the difference was only a few thousand dong. He went back to the store to ask, the seller said he was wrong. Linh wanted to ignore it because the difference was small. Minh said if they want to be transparent with large amounts, they must start with small amounts, a principle he holds firmly to even though it sounds rigid. They correct the invoice, then return the excess to the fund.

Linh realized that saving the theater was not just about fighting Phuc. It's also about learning not to become the new authority figure and then give yourself the right to ignore the rules, a lesson she reminds herself of every day.

Minh suggested posting a board to publicize all contributions. Linh agreed, even though some people were afraid of their names appearing. They created the option to remain anonymous, but kept internal receipts to ensure everything was traceable when needed. Ms. Nam said the theater may be poor, but it must not be obscure. The saying was written at the top of the cash book in big, bold letters, like a declaration to the whole group.

A few days later, a strange man stopped by the "Ha Vang Mart" counter, bought a cup of kumquat tea, and stayed to ask questions. He introduced himself as the owner of a small wood workshop in a neighboring district. He heard about the roof repair so he wanted to contribute some of the surplus wood in the workshop. Linh thanked her but still asked carefully about the origin, quality and conversion value, according to the process Mai had established. The man seemed surprised by that caution, but in the end still happily signed the receipt, saying that he liked the way a small movie theater worked seriously like a real company.

That evening, when reviewing the entire weekly cash book, Linh realized that the amount of money collected this week, although not large, was enough so that they did not have to borrow more for the next roof repair. She sat down and recalculated three times to be sure, then called the whole group out to watch with her, as a way to share her small but sincere joy. Her mother stood silently watching her daughter add and subtract numbers under the light, smiling slightly without saying anything, as if she was seeing in that appearance a part of her deceased husband, the way he used to sit at the table calculating until late every time the theater encountered difficulties.