Chapter 23 — The Bookmobile Through the Mountains

About five kilometers from the district hospital, when the road began to become flatter, closer to the central area, the car suddenly stopped for a moment, the engine emitted a shrill screeching sound, causing Nghi's heart to stop beating for a moment. She quickly stepped on the clutch, downshifted, trying to keep the car from stalling in the middle of the road.

"What's wrong with the car?" Nam asked from behind, his voice filled with worry.

"Maybe the gearbox is starting to have problems, Uncle Bon warned me in advance," Nghi replied, his hands still adjusting, trying to coax the old car to continue operating. "But I'll try, there's only a short distance left."

She said but in her heart she was not completely sure. The car shook more violently, its speed decreased significantly, but fortunately, it continued to roll, although much more slowly and sluggishly than usual. Nghi held her breath, her eyes never left the road ahead, her mouth muttering words of encouragement to the car itself, as if it could hear and understand the urgency in her voice.

"Hold on, just a little harder," she whispered, her hands tightening on the steering wheel, "Dad, please bless this car to get there."

Like a miracle, despite continuously making unusual noises, the car still continued to roll, carrying the whole group through the stressful final kilometers. When the lights of the district hospital appeared ahead through the rain that had begun to subside, Nghi breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if a giant boulder had been lifted from his chest.

As soon as the car stopped in front of the emergency gate, the medical team was already waiting, thanks to Nam's advance call from the time of departure. They quickly brought Senh to the emergency room on a small stretcher. Mrs. Nai ran after her while crying, still holding her son's tiny hand tightly until the doctors gently asked her to step back so they could perform emergency treatment.

Nghi and Nam stood outside the emergency room, both wet and covered in mud, but no one paid attention to that. They stood next to Mrs. Nai, who was trembling, almost collapsing from worry and exhaustion, taking turns comforting and encouraging her to keep her spirits up during the long, anxious wait.

"Just trust the doctors, they have the expertise, Senh will be fine," Nghi said, although inside she was no less worried, just trying to keep her voice as calm as possible to reassure her panicked mother.

Fifteen minutes passed slowly like hours. Finally, the door to the emergency room opened, a young doctor walked out, his face was still serious but his eyes were somewhat relieved.

"The baby had an acute respiratory infection, high fever and convulsions due to the infection. Luckily, he was brought in promptly before the complications got worse," the doctor explained, his voice professional but no less warm. "We have reduced the fever, given him antibiotics, and his current condition is much more stable. He needs to stay in the hospital for a few more days of observation, but he has passed the most dangerous stage."

After hearing this, Mrs. Nai collapsed on the floor and burst into tears, no longer a cry of panic but a cry of extreme relief. "Thank you doctor, thank you Ms. Nghi, thank you Mr. Nam. If it weren't for you guys, I probably would have lost my child."

Nghi bent down and hugged Mrs. Nai, both women cried in each other's arms, tears of past fear, of happiness knowing a small life had been saved in time. Nam stood next to him, quietly wiping away the tears that were welling up in the corners of his eyes, his emotions as high as the two women in front of him.

After Mrs. Nau was allowed to visit her child in the monitoring room, Nghi and Nam had the opportunity to sit down in the waiting chairs in the hospital hallway. Both were exhausted, wet and cold, but their hearts were filled with an indescribable feeling of relief.

"We did it," Nam said, his voice still shaking slightly with emotion, turning to look at Nghi with eyes full of admiration. "I did it, Nghi. If it weren't for your determination, without this car, I don't know what would have happened to baby Senh."

Nghi shook her head and held Nam's hand, her voice choked. "It was us, Nam. Without you leading the way, without you helping clear the way during the landslide, I wouldn't have been able to get here in time. And the medical book I once lent to Mrs. Nau - without it, baby Senh probably wouldn't have been able to hold on until we got there."

The two of them sat quietly together in the deserted hospital hallway at midnight, still holding each other's hands tightly, no need for any more words. The rain outside had begun to gradually subside, and the hospital hallway lights were shining down, creating warm streaks of light in the quiet space after a long, tumultuous night.

Nghi recalls the entire journey — the fear of receiving the news call, the race against time in the middle of a fierce storm, the ominous whistling sound of the engine on the final stretch, and now, this moment of peace after all. She realized that this is the strongest and most vivid testament to the true value of the mobile bookmobile program - not only the books that bring knowledge, but also the steady presence, the trust built over many years, and in moments of life and death like this, the vehicle itself has become the only bridge between life and death for a child in a remote mountain area without any other means of emergency.

She took the phone, even though the screen was wet and flickering, she tried to text a short message to her mother, informing her that baby Senh was safe. Just a few seconds later, the phone rang, it was a call from Mrs. Dung, her voice was filled with worry mixed with relief when she heard that her daughter and everyone were safe.

"I'm so happy, Nghi," Ms. Dung said over the phone, her voice trembling. "You do exactly what your father did, always ready to rush into danger to save others. Mom is very proud of you."

Nghi smiled, even though tears were still lingering at the corners of her eyes, feeling more clearly than ever that, tonight, not only was a small life saved, but she herself had also found the clearest answer to the question she had been asking herself for more than a year - that she, with her own personality and way of working, was completely worthy of following the path her father had opened.

Near morning, when Mrs. Nai felt comfortable sitting next to her son's hospital bed, the night nurse brought Nghi and Nam two thin blankets and two cups of hot ginger tea, looking with concern at the wet, muddy appearance of both of them. "You two must be very cold sitting here all night. Let's drink some ginger tea to warm up."

"Thank you," Nghi replied, accepting the cup of tea, the warmth spreading through her palm, somewhat soothing the cold that had penetrated deep into her body after many hours of being in the rain. She glanced at Nam and saw that he was also shivering slightly from the cold, his hair was still wet, but his eyes when looking at her were unusually warm.

"Are you okay? Do you have a cold?" Nam asked, his voice full of worry, he gently touched her forehead to check.

"I'm fine, just a little tired," Nghi replied, smiling to reassure him. "You're the one to worry about, just now you jumped out of the car to clear dirt and rocks in the wind and rain."

Nam smiled softly, holding her hand tighter. "As long as I see that you and baby Senh are safe, I don't feel tired at all."

They sat quietly together, drinking sips of warm ginger tea, listening to the sound of the rain fading outside the hospital hallway window, occasionally exchanging a few short sentences, mainly just to feel each other's presence after a long night full of turmoil and danger. Dawn gradually appeared on the horizon, a pale streak of light piercing through the gray clouds still lingering after the storm, like a promise of a new day, tired but full of hope.

Before leaving the hospital to go home to rest a bit, Nghi stopped by the hospital room to see baby Senh sleeping peacefully. The baby's face was rosy again, no longer the scary purple look like last night. Mrs. Nai sat next to her, her eyes now filled with peace and gratitude.

"Miss Nghi," Mrs. Nai called softly when she saw Nghi preparing to leave, "I will come to your hearing, even if I have to walk all day, I will go. I will tell everyone about last night, so they know, your program is not just about books, but about human lives."

Nghi choked up and nodded, squeezing Ms. Nau's hand once more before leaving, his heart filled with a new belief, more solid than ever, that tonight's story would become an indispensable part in the battle to protect the program that was waiting ahead.