Chapter 8 — The Bookmobile Through the Mountains

Two weeks later, as promised, Nghi appeared again at the gate of Nam Cay School, this time carrying not only books but also a few plywood boards and a few screws and tools that she borrowed from Mr. Bon Senh after hearing about her desire to set up a permanent reading corner right in the classroom, instead of having to make temporary arrangements on the ground every time she comes.

Nam's letter sent town the other day made Nghi think a lot. She realized that if Nam Cay officially became a permanent stop, simply bringing books and collecting them in batches would not be as effective as leaving a certain number of books at the school, circulating periodically, so that children could read at any time, not just on the days the book cart stopped by.

"Hello, Ms. Nghi," Nam walked out to greet her, his voice much friendlier than the first time we met. "You're up so early, it's raining today."

"Yes, I took the opportunity to leave early to return in time before the heavy rain," Nghi replied, looking at the sky that was dotted with a few drops of rain. "I brought some wooden planks and plan to try setting up a permanent corner of the bookshelf in the classroom, if you agree."

Nam's eyes lit up. "This is a good idea. We are also struggling to know how to arrange it neatly, because the classroom is cramped and the tables and chairs take up all the space."

The two of them carried the wooden planks into the classroom together, under the eager observation of the curious children surrounding them. Nam took off his coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and Nghi measured, sawed, cut, and nailed a small shelf at the end of the classroom, right under the window to take advantage of natural light. The work was not easy - neither of them were professional carpenters. Sometimes the nails went wrong, causing the board to crack and have to be taken apart and rebuilt, but the atmosphere was happy, filled with laughter rather than tension.

"You hold this plate firmly, let me nail it," Nghi said, holding the hammer, but as soon as she swung it, it missed, hitting her finger, making her scream in pain.

"Are you okay?" Nam quickly let go of the board, took Nghi's hand to check, her fingers were red and slightly swollen. He rummaged through the school's small first aid bag, took out a tube of pain reliever, and carefully applied it to her swollen area.

Nghi stood still, feeling Nam's hand touch hers, a warm feeling spreading that made her cheeks heat up slightly, not necessarily because of pain but because of something more strange. "Thank you," she said softly, withdrawing her hand a little hastily.

Nam was also a bit embarrassed, quickly stood up, cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. "Let me do the rest for you, just rest for a while."

That afternoon, after nearly three hours of struggling, the small bookshelf corner was finally completed — not perfect, with a few places where the planks were a bit off, but sturdy and large enough to hold about a hundred books. Nghi began arranging the books she brought on the shelf, classifying them by age and subject, while Nam stood watching, nodding with satisfaction.

"It looks so beautiful, miss!" A voice rang out from the classroom door. Lo Van Pao stood there, still holding a bundle of firewood he had just brought back from the forest, his eyes shining when he saw the corner of the new bookshelf.

"Can you see?" Nghi smiled and asked.

"It's so beautiful! From now on we don't have to wait for the book cart to arrive to have books to read," Pao exclaimed, quickly putting down the bundle of firewood, running closer to the bookshelf, his eyes quickly scanning each spine.

Nghi noticed that Pao stopped the longest at a study guidebook for the district boarding school entrance exam. The boy picked up the book, flipped a few pages, then put it down again, his eyes slightly hesitant.

"Do you want to take the entrance exam to boarding school?" Nghi asked gently.

Pao nodded, then shook his head again, his expression torn. "I really want to, teacher. Teacher Nam said I can pass the exam if I study carefully. But my family still has three younger siblings, my father can't do the farming alone. If I go to school far away, who will help him with them?"

Nam stood nearby, heard the story, walked closer, put his hand on Pao's shoulder. "I've talked to your father many times. Your father supported you in taking the exam, remember? Slowly help your family, don't let it hinder your dream."

"But I'm still very worried, teacher," Pao bowed his head, his voice low. "Going to school far away is expensive, but my family..."

Nghi looked at the boy, his heart suddenly aching when he remembered the story about Tuat in his father's notebook - also a smart student, eager to learn, but in the end had to give up because of family circumstances. She didn't want history to repeat itself again, at least not with Pao, not while she was standing here, able to do something.

"Pao," Nghi sat down, at eye level with the boy, "you just focus on studying for the exam, about tuition and books, and let me think of a way to help. I know there are some scholarship programs for ethnic minority students in difficult circumstances. I will research carefully and inform you and Mr. Nam later."

Pao's eyes lit up, but there was still some timid doubt, as if he was used to the fact that good promises often do not come true. "Do you really promise?"

"I promise," Nghi nodded firmly, "and I won't let you down."

Nam stood looking at that scene, an indescribable gratitude arose in his heart. He realized that the woman standing in front of him did not just bring books for fun, but actually cared about the fate of each child on the route she passed, exactly like what he had been trying to do for his students for the past six years. Perhaps, two people, even though they come from two different paths, are headed to the same destination.

It started to rain harder when Nghi was about to leave. Standing under the classroom's awning, looking at the torrential rain outside, she was a little worried about the slippery dirt road ahead.

"Do you want to wait until the rain stops before going home?" Nam asked, his eyes truly worried. "The road down the mountain in the rain is very dangerous, especially the steep part near the end."

"I have to go home, my mother is waiting, and if it's too late, the road will get muddier," Nghi shook her head, even though she was a little apprehensive.

Nam looked at her for a moment, then decided. "Then let me go with you for a while on the motorbike. When I get to the most dangerous slope, I'll turn back. At least someone will follow closely, so if anything happens, they'll be able to rescue you in time."

Nghi intended to refuse, but looking at Nam's determined eyes, she nodded in agreement. And so, in the midst of the torrential rain, Nghi's old truck crawled slowly down the slippery slope, followed closely by Nam's motorbike lights, a small but warm image in the cold rain of the mountains, marking a silent turning point in the relationship between the two.

Coming to the steepest part, where the red dirt road had turned into a stream of slushy mud flowing down both sides of the road, Nghi was forced to slow down as much as possible, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, his eyes straining to look at every inch of the road ahead. The wheel slipped slightly once, making her heart pound, but thanks to going slowly and keeping the same tire track, the car slowly passed the most dangerous part without any trouble.

Through the foggy rearview mirror, Nghi could still see Nam's motorbike lights flickering behind her. Occasionally he would honk his horn two short times, perhaps a signal to let her know he was still following closely, ready to rescue her if anything happened. The feeling of having a companion, even for a short distance in the rain, made Nghi feel strangely warm - it had been a long time since her father's death that she had the feeling that she was not alone in facing the dangers on this road.

Coming to a flatter part of the road, where the forest trail began to connect to a wider dirt road leading toward other villages, Nam waved his hand to stop. Nghi pulled the car over, rolled down the window, and looked at Nam standing in the rain, his thin raincoat already soaked on one shoulder.

"It's safe to come here, you keep going, I'm going back to school," Nam said, having to shout louder than usual to be heard over the sound of rain falling on the roof of the car.

"Thank you very much," Nghi said, his voice sincere. "Be careful too, the road is very slippery."

Nam nodded and smiled, a rare smile that Nghi had never seen from him since their first cautious meeting. "If you come back safely, I'll rest assured. Next time, remember to let me know in advance, I'll come pick you up at this slope, it's less dangerous."

That sentence, simple but containing an undisguised concern, made Nghi's heart beat a little faster. She nodded, didn't say anything else, just smiled and slowly drove the car forward, leaving Nam standing there in the middle of the rain, watching until the car's taillights completely disappeared into the gray rain in the distance.

During the rest of the way back town, even though she still had to concentrate hard to drive safely through the slippery roads, Nghi still kept thinking about the image of Nam standing in the rain waving goodbye, about the way he worried about her safety so much even though they had only known her for less than a month. She told herself it was just normal concern between people sharing the same goal, but deep inside, she knew the warm feeling creeping into her heart was not that simple.