Chapter 47 — Summer After the Rain

The theater dedicates every Sunday weekend to children in the south bank area, which was most heavily affected by the flood last year. Tickets are completely free, accompanied by a light meal and a class on how to make short films using mobile phones. Linh was worried that the children would feel sad if they had to hear about the flood story, so she proactively chose to show a fun cartoon instead of any heavy content.

Minh took on the task of teaching the children how to film scenes of pouring rain beautifully. He was asked directly by a boy why adults always talk in circles. Minh replied that perhaps it was because they were afraid that their short sentences would easily be misunderstood by others. The boy replied that it was better to keep it short so it was easy to understand.

Hau took on the role of main host, but was constantly surrounded by children asking about all sorts of things non-stop. Mrs. Nam stood selling popcorn all day, and by the end of the day, her entire bag of supplies that she had prepared for the whole week was gone.

A young girl quietly placed a handwritten note in the ticket box: "When I grow up, I want to make a movie about the bridge." Linh was curious and asked why she chose that topic. The girl replied that because the bridge is a place that connects people who have never had the opportunity to meet each other before.

Minh looked at Linh thoughtfully. She said that the girl's answer was better than any script Hau had ever written in the past.

The screening ended with the children drawing pictures together directly on the outdoor movie wall. There are images of clouds, rivers, Ha Vang theater, and even a tiny character wearing a yellow raincoat. Minh pretended not to realize that the character was himself, but smiled all afternoon.

The painting class is led by Linh's mother herself. She had no expertise in painting, and simply asked each child what they wanted to keep in their painting. Some children drew an old house that was swept away, some drew a lifeboat, and some drew a picture of an adult holding a lamp standing right in front of the theater door.

A boy suddenly asked why no one drew a picture of Mr. Phuc. Linh sat down at his eye level and gently said that she could draw anyone she wanted, but don't draw a person just to turn them into a complete bad guy in everyone's eyes. The boy thought for a long time and then drew a shadow standing behind the door. No one knows exactly who that shadow represents, but everyone seems to implicitly understand that it represents things that have yet to be said.

Minh was busy mixing paint and accidentally spilled a bucket of blue paint on his shoes. Linh teased that he now has a special pair of hope-colored shoes. He replied that this paint color was more difficult to clean than the responsibility he was shouldering. Hau took the opportunity to take out his camera to take pictures of each painting, carefully creating a folder to save the artist's name along with the specific date.

Linh asked him if he planned to repaint that wall in the future. He shook his head and replied that this was the first time every mark of paint on the wall was entirely chosen by the people themselves. She said that one day the paint will fade over time. Minh said that they would continue to paint together.

That night, the girl who drew a picture of a raincoat sent Minh another small piece of paper. On it was written: "Uncle Minh, if you marry Ms. Linh, remember to invite me to watch a movie for free." Minh's face turned red, while Linh pretended to be busy checking the stack of tickets she had just printed.

Linh's mother accidentally read that piece of paper and jokingly asked her daughter if she needed to prepare a guest list. Linh replied that there was currently no wedding at all. Her mother told her to prepare for a normal movie night; adults sometimes confused the two things.

Linh carefully kept her note in a separate mailbox, not included in the theater's official records. She understood that it was not evidence or property at all, simply a lovely childish tease. Minh said she is gradually learning how to clearly distinguish between what needs to be kept for a long time and what just needs to be remembered in her heart.

One morning, the girl who drew a raincoat came to the theater with a worn-out schoolbag. She timidly asked Linh if she could temporarily borrow a corner of the hall to do her homework, because at home she had to look after her younger sister all day. Linh showed me a small table near the window, but clearly reminded me that it was a shared space so I needed to clean it up after using it. The girl nodded obediently, sitting and doing her homework amid the clicking sounds of workers repairing rows of chairs nearby.

Minh installed a small study lamp for me right on the table. He didn't say it was a gift, he just said it was originally in a pile of broken and discarded items. The girl asked if she could watch a movie after studying. Linh replied that it was okay, as long as she remembered to put the crayons back in the same place. She completed the work so quickly that Hau had to suspect that she had been properly trained in advance.

That afternoon, another group of students also came to the theater. The students expressed their desire to establish a film making club using mobile phones. Linh requires students to write their own specific plans, ask for full permission from everyone appearing in the frame, and absolutely not film anyone without receiving consent. Minh is willing to lend the projection room to the students on days when the theater is closed. Ha Vang, from then on, began a new generation of storytelling, not with secretly stolen secrets, but with eyes that proactively asked questions before pressing the record button.

That group of students then made their first short film, telling the story of a familiar bridge in the area. They interviewed people living on both sides of the river, but one woman refused to record because she did not want to recall the painful flood night of the past. Linh teaches them how to absolutely respect that refusal, even though this may make the scene less exciting. The girl who drew the raincoat suggested a solution: instead of filming her face, they would film her hands meticulously folding the life jacket.

When reviewing the finished film edit, the group realized that the quiet part of the film was the part that made viewers stop the longest to think. Minh said a truly good movie doesn't need to force anyone to cry; it just needs to give the viewer enough silence to remember something of their own. Hau was in charge of the subtitles, and for the first time did not insert any personal jokes into each scene. He commented to himself that growing up is boring, but when Mai heard that sentence, she just smiled slightly with satisfaction.

The test screening of the movie took place right in the theater lobby. The woman who refused to be interviewed sat quietly in the last row, not wanting to appear publicly on stage. When the movie ended, she just nodded slightly to Linh, not saying another word. That nod was small, but it was enough for her to understand that a properly told story can completely restore the right to silence to those who were forced to speak up before.

After the test screening, the woman stayed a while longer, waiting until most people had left. She went to Linh, her voice was soft, and said that the video of her hands folding life jackets made her remember something she thought she had completely forgotten: those same hands, that night, had tremblingly folded countless life jackets to give to strange children, while her own children were in another place, waiting for someone to do the same.

Linh listened silently to that story, not daring to interrupt. She continued that for the past eighteen years, she had never dared to tell this detail to anyone, for fear that people would blame her for not being by her child's side at the most dangerous time. But when she watched that video again, she realized that her hands, even though they couldn't save her child at that moment, had saved other children, and that also deserved to be remembered as part of the truth, without having to keep it hidden in her heart forever.

Linh held her hand, without saying any empty words of comfort. She just asked her if she wanted that part of the story to be added to the public records, anonymously, so that the children she had helped could later be grateful to the right people. She thought for a long time, then nodded slightly, her eyes were red but her look was much more relieved than when she first entered the theater.