Chapter 8 — The Alley Is No Longer On The Map

That morning, Gieng Chung alley woke up earlier than usual. It was still dark, Mrs. Nam Xoi had put her goods out for sale, but instead of selling them like usual, she quietly wrapped a separate package of red Gac sticky rice, tied it carefully with an elastic band, brought it to the door of Vy's boarding house and put it in her hand "to get lucky before leaving". The whole small alley, each house, had its own way of saying goodbye: some stood in front of the door waving, others just quietly watched, an old lady even clasped her hands and prayed something towards the car taking Vy to the airport, as if she was sending off a grandchild who went away to settle down.

The seven-seat taxi rented by Uncle Hai Moc was packed with people: Vy, Mrs. Nhien, Mrs. Vui, Uncle Hai Moc, Khanh and Mo were crowded together, luggage filled the back trunk. All the way to the airport, no one spoke much, only the hum of the radio broadcasting the morning traffic news, occasionally interrupted by the sound of Mrs. Nhien sniffling, trying hard not to let anyone see.

Khanh sat next to the window, eyes watching the familiar streets passing by, trying to remember the image of Vy sitting across from her, her hands clasped tightly around the handle of her bag, her face mixed with excitement and worry. He wanted to say something during this rare private time, but the car was crowded, every word became awkward, so he couldn't help it, telling himself he would find another time when saying goodbye at the airport.

The international airport is much noisier and colder than Vy imagined. The glossy marble floor reflects the white lights from the high ceiling, the loudspeaker announcing the flight resounds regularly in both Vietnamese and English, mixed with the sound of suitcase wheels rolling on the tiled floor and the bustling sound of people passing by. Standing in that vast space, Vy felt strangely small, like a grain of sand that had just been lifted out of a familiar alley and dropped into a strange ocean.

The group of people seeing her off today was larger than she thought: her mother, Mrs. Vui, uncle Hai Moc, teacher An took advantage of the break from teaching to run out, and of course Khanh and Mo were indispensable. The whole group stood huddled together in the check-in area, looking out of place among the neatly dressed business passengers pulling luxury suitcases.

"Remember to stay warm, it's very cold over there in the winter." Mrs. Nhien reminded her again and again for the fifth time, her hand still constantly adjusting the collar of her daughter's jacket even though it had been straight from the beginning.

"I know, Mom." Vy smiled, but her eyes were filled with tears. "Mom, remember to take your medicine on time. Don't stay up late sewing anymore."

"We haven't flown yet, but your mother told me to say goodbye." Uncle Hai Moc joked, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, but his voice was a bit lost at the end of the sentence.

Teacher An walked over and gave Vy an old leather-covered notebook with pure white pages inside.

"The teacher gave you this book. Write in a diary, write in Vietnamese or English. When you're far away, sometimes you forget what you thought or felt, the notebook will help you remember." He patted her shoulder, his voice warm. "I believe you will do many great things. But remember, no matter what you do, don't let yourself forget where you came from."

"Yes, thank you teacher." Vy bowed her head and hugged the notebook to her chest like she was holding a treasure.

Time passed so quickly that Vy didn't have time to realize that the loudspeaker announced that her flight's passengers needed to go to the quarantine area to go through security procedures. She turned to each person and hugged her mother tightly. Her mother cried without making a sound, just squeezing her daughter's shoulder tightly as if she didn't want to let go. Mrs. Vui and Uncle Hai Moc also hugged her and told her a few more trivial things about her health and eating well.

When it was Mo's turn, he gave Vy a small paper bag, inside was a carefully packaged package of dry mixed rice paper.

"Let me bring it with you. If you crave Vietnamese food, you'll have something to eat." Fat said, his voice trying to sound happy but his eyes were red. "Hey, don't forget me, without me I'm sure you'll be able to pass the tenth grade Math exam."

"How could I forget?" Vy hugged her chubby friend, smiling through her tears.

Finally, Khanh remains. The group seemed to understand and took a few steps back, giving the two of them some privacy.

"So..." Khanh started, but didn't know how to continue, his hands were in his pockets, his posture was awkward and rare for him.

"So I'm really gone." Vy continued, her voice choked.

"YES." Khanh nodded, trying to force a smile. "Remember to keep in touch. Don't go overboard and forget my phone number."

"How could I forget?" Vy shook her head, her hand raised to touch the newly worn necklace, where half a coin was dangling, with a small hole drilled for the string. "I carry this with me all the time."

Khanh looked at the half coin sparkling under the airport lights, something in his eyes softened, both emotional and as if he was trying to suppress another, larger emotion.

"Vy, I have something to say—"

But at that moment, the loudspeaker rang for the last time, a monotone female voice announcing that passengers on the flight to Sydney needed to urgently enter the quarantine area, the door would close in ten minutes. Mrs. Nhien quickly ran over and pulled Vy's hand, her hurried voice mixed with tears.

"I have to go, I'm going to be late."

Vy turned to look at Khanh, her eyes pleading as if she wanted him to finish the unfinished sentence, but the crowd was noisily jostling back and forth, a group of tourists dragging suitcases rushed past, temporarily blocking the view between the two.

"Tell me, what's going on?" She shouted through the crowd, trying to keep her eyes on him.

Khanh opened his mouth, but the loudspeaker announcement rang out again, completely drowning out his voice. Vy only had time to see his lips move something, not sure if it was "go strong" or some other more important sentence, before Mrs. Nhien pulled her hand and walked towards the security gate.

"Go ahead, don't miss your flight!" Mrs. Nhien urged.

Vy walked in regret, constantly looking back, seeing Khanh still standing there, in the middle of the stream of people passing by, his hand raised to wave but not following, as if he knew his limits - only being sent off here, the rest of the way, she had to continue on her own.

Arriving at the quarantine area, Vy turned back one last time, only to see in the distance, the silhouettes of familiar people standing in a small cluster, waving their hands nonstop. She could no longer distinguish who was Khanh, who was Mo, who was mother, they all blended together into a blur of tears.

The security officer checked the passport, stamped the exit, everything happened so quickly and unintentionally, as if the stamping machine didn't know it had just interrupted something unfinished in the heart of an eighteen-year-old girl. Vy dragged her suitcase through the long hallway leading to the waiting area for the plane, on both sides were bright duty-free shops, completely strange to what she had been used to for the past eighteen years.

Waiting in the isolation room, she took out her phone and saw a new message from Khanh, probably sent right after she disappeared.

"I was about to say it just now, let's save it for when you come back and tell me later. Walk well, study properly. Chung Well Alley is waiting for you."

Vy read and reread that message many times, both relieved that he was okay and regretful that the unfinished story had once again been pushed back to an unknown future. She typed back a short line: "Okay. I'll be back. Remember to keep your promise." then turned off the phone, mentally preparing for the upcoming long flight, my heart was both heavy and light in a strange way that was hard to name.

*

Sitting on the plane, when the small window next to her gradually revealed a miniature city scene below, Vy took out the notebook that teacher An gave her and wrote the first lines in shaky handwriting.

"Today I left Gieng Chung alley. Khanh wanted to say something before I left, but I didn't have time to hear it all. I don't know what it was. Maybe I'll spend this whole flight guessing, and perhaps, the answer can only be found when I return."

She closed the notebook, leaned her head against the plane window, watching the city where she was born and grew up gradually shrink into a dot of light mixed in with the clouds, then disappear completely, leaving behind an unanswered question, and ahead was a completely unfamiliar horizon.

The woman sitting next to her, perhaps recognizing the young girl's blank expression, softly asked in a kind voice: "Are you studying abroad for the first time?"

"Yes." Vy nodded, trying to smile.

"Everyone goes there for the first time. It's very sad, but then you get used to it." The woman said, looking out the window where the sky was only a deep blue without clouds. "I'm just afraid that if I get used to it, one day I'll forget even that initial sad feeling."

That unintentional sentence made Vy startled, clutching the notebook tighter in her arms, telling herself that no matter how long it took, she would not let this feeling - the feeling of standing in the middle of the airport, watching her most loved ones disappear behind the crowd - be forgotten.