Chapter 13 — The Bookmobile Through the Mountains

On Sunday, taking advantage of the day when he didn't have to travel, Nghi spent the entire afternoon sitting with his mother on the porch, listening to Mrs. Dung tell the complete story about Khuong Vinh Trac - a story that Nghi had previously only known in fragments through the words of this person and that person, but was now pieced together into a complete picture.

"Your father was born in a midland commune, not too far from here, but back then it was very poor, poorer than some highland villages now," Mrs. Dung began, her voice slow, as if she were going through pages of old memories. "There are five siblings in my grandparents' family. My father is the fourth child, and there is a youngest sister under my father. My grandfather passed away early due to illness, so my grandmother raised five children by herself by working as a hired farmer."

She said, the year Nghi's father finished middle school, the family was in such financial trouble that they had to consider letting him drop out of school to work to help the family, like many other poor children at that time. But luckily, his homeroom teacher at that time, an old teacher who had been attached to the village school for decades, recognized the poor student's outstanding academic talent, came to his house many times to persuade his family, and even secretly paid the tuition on his behalf so he could continue his studies.

"Your father always mentioned that teacher with infinite gratitude," Mrs. Dung said, her eyes shining with emotion. "He said, if it weren't for that teacher, his life would have turned in a completely different direction. He would probably still be working in the fields or working as a laborer in the countryside, but would never have had the opportunity to study further or take the pedagogical college entrance exam."

After graduating from pedagogical school, Mr. Trac was assigned to teach in another mountainous commune, quite far from Van Thac, an equally poor place. It was there that he met a student named Tuat - a smart boy, eager to learn, but his family situation was too difficult. Most of Nghi knew the story about Tuat through his father's first notebook, but Mrs. Dung told many more details that the notebook did not record.

"Your father told me that after meeting Tuat again at the district market, realizing he had forgotten all the words, he came home and didn't eat or sleep for several days," Mrs. Dung said, her voice low. "At that time, your father and I had only been married for a few months. I was very worried, afraid that he would collapse. But then one evening, he sat up and said to me a sentence that I always remember to this day: 'You can't just stand on the podium waiting for students to come to you anymore. You have to bring literacy to where they live, so that no child has to leave books just because the way to school is too far and too expensive.'"

From that night, Mr. Trac began to cherish the idea of a program to bring books to remote villages. He saved his small salary, bought an old motorbike, packed his own cargo box in the back, and then started his first trips on weekends, when he didn't have to go to class. At first, he only brought a few dozen old books he asked from school, friends, and acquaintances, and crept into each village near where he taught.

"The first few days were very difficult," Ms. Dung continued, "some people were suspicious and kicked him out, thinking he was a scammer disguised as using the name of giving away books to sell multi-level marketing or something. One time he was chased by a family dog and bit his trouser leg. But he didn't give up, he kept coming back persistently, explaining, proving with actions, gradually people believed him."

A few years later, when the program began to have a small reputation in the region, attracting the attention of a number of philanthropists and charitable organizations, Mr. Trac decided on a big turning point - quit his official teaching job, and devoted all his time and energy to the bookmobile program. That was also the time when the family moved to Van Thac district, where he realized the need for books was much more urgent than where he used to teach.

"That decision was not easy," Mrs. Dung said, her voice a bit sad. "Giving up a stable job with a monthly salary to pursue a job that I don't know what the future holds, I was also very worried. But seeing him so determined, I didn't have the heart to stop him. I just tried to work together with him. I opened a small tea and book stall to have more income to support the family, so that he could feel secure to put all his effort into the program."

Nghi listened, her heart filled with deep gratitude for her mother, the woman who silently stood behind, shouldering a large part so that her father could pursue his dream. She never really fully acknowledged her mother's sacrifice. She always focused on admiring the image of her father driving through the forest and mountains, forgetting that behind there was always a woman who quietly supported the whole family.

"For sixteen years, the program has gradually grown, from a few dozen books on a motorbike, to a truck that can carry thousands of books like now," Ms. Dung continued, her voice filled with pride. "Your father not only brought books, he also connected with many publishers and volunteer groups, building a reputation to regularly ask for donations every year. But he always told me that what made him most proud was not the number of books or the number of copies of the program that had come to the village, but the children like Tuat in the past, now no longer have to forget all the words just because there are no books to read, no one brings the words to them."

Mrs. Dung stopped and looked at her daughter, her eyes filled with love. "You know, in the last days before your father passed away, he still mentioned the Nam Cay school site, still feeling guilty about not having time to expand the route there. He told my mother, 'If anyone continues this program in the future, remember to remind them not to forget Nam Cay.' At that time, my mother didn't think much, just said yes to reassure him. Now seeing you find your own way there, I understand that perhaps he had a premonition of something, or he simply believed that one day, you would follow in his footsteps and complete what was left unfinished."

When Nghi heard this, tears could no longer be held back and rolled down his cheeks. She held her mother's hand tightly, her voice choked. "I didn't know that Dad mentioned Nam Cay before he passed away, Mom. I thought I accidentally found the map and accidentally decided to go there."

"Maybe it's not really a coincidence," Mrs. Dung smiled, gently wiping the tears from her daughter's cheeks. "I believe, sometimes the deceased still watch over, still find ways to guide those left behind, in ways that we cannot fully explain."

Ms. Dung also told another detail that she had never mentioned before - about the old teacher who saved Mr. Trac's poor childhood in the past. "Many years later, when the bookmobile program had been running for a while, my father went back to visit his old teacher once. At that time, he was very old, his eyes were blurred, his legs were weak, and he could no longer teach. My father knelt down in front of him, crying like a child, saying that thanks to the old teacher, he could now do these things, and be able to repay the world by helping other children. The teacher just smiled and patted my father's head like when he was a child, he said, 'You make me very proud. But you don't owe me anything, you're just doing what a good teacher should do.'"

Nghi listened silently, feeling like the last piece of the puzzle had just been placed in the right place in the picture of his father's life. She realized that the bookmobile program was not only her father's legacy, but also the continuation of a chain of good people, from the old teacher in the past, to her father, and now, it was her turn to continue to carry that fire even further.

"Do you think, if Dad was still alive, what would he do in the situation where the program was threatened with budget cuts like now?" Nghi asked, his voice soft.

Ms. Dung thought for a moment, then replied, her eyes full of trust. "I think, your father will not sit still and wait. He will go to meet each person involved, will find every way to prove the true value of the program, and most importantly, he will never let fear stop him from taking action. I believe you are doing the same thing, Nghi. You are following the same path as your father, just with your own feet and your own will."

That afternoon, when the sunlight turned pale yellow on the roof, mother and son still sat together, continuing to review every memory of the man who spent his whole life on the pages of books and bumpy mountain roads. For Nghi, this story not only helps her understand her father better, but also gives her a new source of strength, stronger than ever, to enter the battle to protect the program that lies ahead.