Chapter 7 — The Alley Is No Longer On The Map

In exactly one week, Vy will board the plane, her luggage has been stowed in a suitcase borrowed from a neighbor, an old suitcase with wheels that creak each time it is dragged across the rough cement floor. The whole alley these days suddenly becomes different - everyone who meets Vy gives her all sorts of advice, someone gives her some change "to save in case you need it", someone gives her a bag of ginger tea "drink to warm your belly, it's very cold over there", as if the whole neighborhood is preparing together for a common child.

That afternoon, after school, Khanh told Vy to go behind the car repair shop, where there was a small yard hidden behind a tarpaulin, few people noticed.

"What's up?" Vy asked, seeing Khanh squatting next to an old tin box, which was originally used to hold cookies but had been washed, dried, and lined with a layer of newspaper inside.

"I thought of this a few days ago." Khanh said, without looking up, still meticulously folding the newspaper to fit the bottom of the box. "You're about to leave. I want us to leave something behind and bury it here, as a promise."

"What appointment?"

"Someday, no matter how long it takes, we'll dig it up and open it again." He showed her the things he had prepared: the map of Gieng Chung alley that the two of them drew together before, carefully folded and wrapped in a layer of transparent plastic to prevent moisture; a broken corner of a bicycle mirror, which Khanh picked up from the first bike he completely repaired when he was twelve years old; and an old coin, sawed in half with a small hacksaw blade in the shop.

"This coin..." Vy picked up half of the coin and looked at the rough, unfinished saw. "When did you start sawing?"

"Last night, while mom and dad were sleeping." Khanh smiled, with a rare bit of awkwardness. "The sawing was so hard, my hands are still blistered, look." He raised his hand, a small red streak across his calloused palm from daily car repair work.

"Why don't you get another coin that's easier to saw?"

"This is the first coin I ever earned. When I repaired a bicycle for the old man selling lottery tickets, he paid me this exact coin." Khanh explained, his voice lowered a bit. "I've kept it as a souvenir for the past few years. Now I divide it in half, each of us keeps half. You keep this half," he gave her half of the coin with a number printed on it, "I keep the other half. When the two halves fit together, it'll be like we'll meet again."

Vy held half a coin in her palm, feeling the rough sharp edge of the saw lightly cutting into her skin, a very small stinging feeling but one that she remembered forever. She looked at Khanh and saw him attentively arranging the souvenirs into the tin box, moving carefully as if he were arranging something sacred.

"Why don't you keep all these things with you? Bury them in the ground, you never know when you'll dig them up again."

"It's because we don't know when it will be that we have to bury it." Khanh looked up at her, his eyes unusually serious. "If you leave it in the house, one day you come to visit, stop by and take it out to look at it for a few minutes, nothing special. But burying it in the ground, we have to wait, remember, keep our promise to dig it up. I want something to force us to come back here, no matter what happens."

That sentence made Vy speechless. She didn't expect that a quiet boy who was only used to wrenches and lubricants could think of such a romantic thing - not the colorful romance in movies, but a simple sincerity, just like the way he still lives and still treats everyone around him.

At that moment, Mo appeared at the back door of the shop, holding the two ice creams he had just bought, his face beaming until he saw the tin box and the things displayed on the cement floor, then stopped and curiously walked closer.

"Hey, what are you two doing so secretly? Why didn't you invite me?"

Khanh quickly closed the lid of the box and hid it behind his back, looking a bit flustered. "Nothing, just cleaning up old things."

"Get rid of old stuff and hide it." Fat squinted at the two, his eyes full of doubt, but then he just shrugged and gave an ice cream to Vy. "Forget it, keep it a secret, I'm not curious anymore. Eat ice cream to cool down, tomorrow you leave and I'll have no one to invite to buy ice cream in the afternoon."

"And here's Khanh, ask him to go buy it with you." Vy replied, trying to steer the conversation in another direction, taking the ice cream and taking a bite to hide her confused expression.

"He's busy repairing his car all day. He doesn't have time to go buy ice cream with me." Fat grumbled, but then grinned again, sat down next to the two of them, didn't ask anything more about the tin box, just chattered about school, deliberately filling the space with innocuous stories, as if he also sensed that there was something important going on between his two close friends that he shouldn't interfere with.

When it got dark, Mo went home first, and Khanh carefully packed up the souvenirs, waiting until late to carry out the burial plan as planned.

*

That night, when the tube light on the well yard was turned off and the whole neighborhood fell asleep, the two of them sneaked out to the tamarind tree - where three propeller-shaped roots were marked on the map from before - carrying a small shovel borrowed from Uncle Hai Moc.

"Is this place okay?" Khanh pointed to the space between two tree roots, where the soil was softer than other places.

"Okay." Vy nodded, knelt down to help him dig, wet soil covered her hands but no one noticed.

The hole dug was not deep, just enough for the tin box to fit in and be filled, but both of them did it carefully as if they were performing an important ceremony. When putting the box down, Khanh held Vy's hand for a second before covering it with dirt.

"Say something, take it as an oath."

"What oath?" Vy asked, her heart beating faster than usual, not necessarily because it was cold at night.

"It's up to you. I said it first." Khanh took a breath and looked straight at the box lying in the ground. "I swear, no matter where you are or what you do, this alley still has a place for you. I will keep it, keep the well, keep this whole neighborhood, waiting for the day you come back to dig up this box with me."

Vy was silent for a long time, her overwhelming emotions made it difficult for her to open her mouth. Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling but sincere.

"I swear, no matter how far I go, I will remember the way back. And I swear... I will not let this alley with... become a forgotten memory for you."

She was about to say something more, a sentence that she had tried to keep hidden in her heart for the past few months, but the way Khanh's eyes looked at her at that moment - deep, waiting, almost begging her to continue - made her frightened by her own emotions. She bent down and quickly covered it with dirt, to avoid having to face that fragile moment another second.

Khanh looked at her, perhaps realizing something was unfinished, but he didn't force her to continue, just quietly helped her fill the hole in the ground, gently stepping on it with his foot to make it level, erasing all traces as if no one had ever dug here.

"Done." He stood up, brushed his hands, trying to sound normal. "From now on, this place is a secret between the two of us, even Mo doesn't know."

"Okay." Vy smiled, even though her eyes were still filled with tears. "Our secret."

They stood there for a while longer, looking at the ground that had just been leveled under the tamarind tree, the crescent moon shining down a faint streak of light. No one said another word, but they both understood that this moment would be one of the things they would carry with them for the rest of their lives, no matter how far the road ahead led them, or one day lead them back to this exact place.

On the way home, Khanh led the way through the dim darkness of the alley, occasionally turning back to remind Vy to avoid the familiar broken bricks or potholes whose locations only those who had lived here for a long time would remember. Arriving at the door of the inn, the two stopped, neither of them was in a hurry to say goodbye.

"That half coin, keep it safe." Khanh advised, his voice suddenly unusually serious. "Don't get lost."

"You too." Vy replied, clutching the half coin she still kept in her pocket, not wanting to put it in her suitcase right away. "I'll wear it with me, as a pendant or something, so I can always remember it."

Khanh nodded, about to turn and walk away, but then stopped and looked back at her again under the pale moonlight.

"Vy hey."

"What?"

He opened his mouth, as if about to say something important, but then stopped and just shook his head and laughed. "Nothing. Good night. Tomorrow you have to wake up early to help your mother pack."

Vy stood watching his shadow disappear into the darkness of the alley, feeling both relieved and regretful, wondering what that unfinished sentence was all about, and whether she would ever have the chance to hear it completely.

She stood a moment longer on the doorstep, her fingers still twirling the half coin in her pocket, feeling the sharp edge lightly cutting into her skin as a silent reminder. Behind him, the lights in the house were turned off, leaving only the whirring sound of the fan echoing through the window. She took a deep breath, trying to remember the smell of damp earth, the smell of kitchen smoke left over from dinner, the smell of this small alley, before entering the house, closing the door behind her as if closing a chapter of her life about to turn a new page.