Chapter 40 — Summer After the Rain

On the night of the screening of the general film about An Binh, the theater was filled with two hundred seats, with not a single empty seat left from the front row to the entrance. The film is assembled from photos contributed by people, accounts of the flood, and footage of the theater repair process over the past few months. Linh intentionally does not appear too much in the film; She wanted this place to tell its story through many different voices, not just her own.

Her mother stood up and sang the song she once sang with her father, her voice trembling but still ringing clearly. The audience below quietly sang along to each verse, forming an imperfect but emotional chorus. Minh operated the projector carefully with each frame, while Hau stood selling popcorn at the door but accidentally ate nearly half of the goods before the show ended.

At the end of the film, the image of Linh's father appears, his hand placing the number 13 ticket in an old notebook. The words he wrote below: “A place for people to return to.” Linh is not sure who he wrote those lines for. She thought maybe it was for her mother, maybe it was for herself, or maybe even he was writing for himself.

When the movie ended, the whole theater stood up and applauded endlessly. Linh burst into tears amid the applause. Minh reached out to hold her hand, but she took his hand first, a rare proactive gesture.

Tuan arrived later than expected, standing at the door with a somewhat tense expression, carrying a thick bag of documents. He said his family's corporation had officially withdrawn completely from the construction project on the theater's land. He also wants to keep an anonymous donation to the theater's general fund, without having to put his company or family name anywhere.

Linh thanks you sincerely. Tuan said he was just doing his part, not to buy forgiveness for his father's past mistakes.

On the day the official recognition decision was received, everyone gathered in the theater lobby from early morning. The document was only a few pages, but Hau still deliberately enlarged it into a large poster to hang. Mai had to remind him to cover up the witnesses' citizen identification numbers before posting them publicly. Hau explained that he just wanted to hang it to look pretty. Ms. Nam said that looking good is not as important as doing things according to regulations.

Tuan arrived a little later than the ceremony, carrying another thick bag of documents. He just found another old email in the server, detailing how someone deliberately changed the date on the minutes after the flood. Linh thanks you again. Tuan reiterated that he was just doing his own part, and had no intention of using it to buy forgiveness on his father's behalf.

After that special premiere night, Ha Vang Theater was officially recognized as a community cultural space. The old nameplate was carefully repainted, but the peeling marks around the edges of the letters were still deliberately left intact as an indelible mark of time. Tan suggested placing a small sign outside recording the historical water level of the previous flood to remind future generations. Linh's mother wants to plant more bougainvillea bushes around the entrance. Minh just wants to add a few decorative lights for warmth.

Phuc submitted an application to contribute to the town's general dyke repair fund. Linh didn't know whether to agree to that proposal or not. Mai advised her to look at what he really contributed, instead of just focusing on what he wanted to be called in the eyes of others. Phuc attended the review meeting, sat quietly at the end of the table, ready to accept all harsh questions from the people. He said he doesn't want people to forget their old mistakes, he just wants to have a chance to do at least one thing right for the rest of their lives.

The meeting lasted quite a long time with many conflicting opinions. Some people definitely do not accept forgiveness, some people simply want the common work to be completed smoothly. Finally, the whole group agreed to receive the donation into a public and transparent account, without changing the name of any items to avoid misunderstandings. Linh signed the minutes first, Phuc quietly signed right after.

That night, the theater showed its first movie since it was officially recognized as a community cultural space. Before the lights went out, Linh looked towards row 13. Her mother was sitting there, Minh stood next to the projector, and Hau held the popcorn box like a treasure. She suddenly understood that this place could not be saved by a single decision. It is saved day by day, by people constantly coming back and voluntarily doing their own small part well.

Before the screening officially began, Linh stood up and read aloud the theater's new operating regulations in front of the entire audience: all records related to the theater's history are publicly accessible within the framework of respecting personal privacy; All revenues and expenditures are transparently announced periodically; and anyone has the right to give feedback without fear of being excluded from general meetings. The audience applauded loudly, not because the words were written beautifully, but because they actually heard themselves clearly reflected in each of those terms.

Minh gradually turned off the hall lights. The first beam of light from the projector covered the white curtain, marking the official start of a new life journey for Ha Vang theater.

After the screening, an elderly man timidly asked to meet Linh privately. He used to work in the district's cadastral department and was the one who signed the map that caused the old dyke gate to be removed from the periodic reinforcement plan in the past. He said at that time he did not know that the file had been edited by someone, but also frankly admitted that he did not read it carefully before signing. Linh asked him what he really wanted when he came here. He quietly produced a set of original maps that he had kept for many years, saying that he wanted to voluntarily return them all to the theater's general archive.

Mai carefully examined each map, carefully comparing the dates and clearly stating the origin. That man was not exempted from his responsibility, but his sincere testimony helped the whole town better understand how many different hands the mistake of the past had gone through before causing serious consequences. Linh thanked him, then added that this thank you does not mean completely erasing what happened in the past. He nodded, saying that he only hoped that when young people read the file later, they would understand that an ordinary person's signature could accidentally cause an entire road to disappear forever.

That night, Linh added a separate compartment called "inconclusive documents" to the common storage cabinet. She does not want Ha Vang to become a place that only stores truths that benefit one side. Minh asked her if she was afraid that people would search too closely in the future. She replied that if you don't have the strength to endure difficult questions, you shouldn't call it the collective memory of the whole community. He thought silently for a moment, then carefully added a moisture-proof label to the new cabinet. There are answers that do not need to be discussed any further, they just need to be preserved properly and wait for the right person to find them.

A few days after the recognition ceremony, a cultural inspection team from the province visited the theater for on-site evaluation before completing final procedures. They not only looked at the facilities but also asked carefully about daily operations, how the theater handled free screenings, and how community funds were monitored. Linh took them on a tour of each area, from the projection room, to the archives, to the small library corner upstairs, explaining in detail each process that had been built through months of testing and adjustment.

A member of the inspection team, after looking through the "inconclusive documents" drawer, seemed quite surprised. He asked why they publicize uncertain things, which many other places often choose to keep hidden to save their face. Linh replied that a real cultural heritage does not need to be absolutely perfect, it just needs to be true to its own history, including the unfinished parts. This person carefully recorded that answer in his notebook, saying that this was probably the most valuable thing to learn during the entire visit of the delegation.

After the group left, the group sat down to celebrate with a small pot of sweet soup cooked by Aunt Tam. No one is sure what the final result will be, but Linh feels that, no matter how long the procedure takes, they have built something to be proud of, regardless of any official certificate.