Chapter 2 — The Light Keeper at the Sea Gate

The sound of roosters crowing from the fishing village echoed to the lighthouse, waking Hoai An up early in the morning. She lay for a while, listening to the strange sounds of the ocean waves hitting the rocks, the sound of the wind passing through the door, completely different from the familiar sounds of car horns and noise of the city. She jumped up, changed her clothes neatly, then walked out to start her first day of work.

Khoi had woken up a long time ago, sitting at the wooden table in the kitchen, writing something down in a thick notebook, next to a steaming pot of tea. He glanced at her as she entered, then continued to bend over the notebook without saying a word.

"Good morning," Hoai An spoke first, trying to break the oppressive silence. "What are you recording?"

"Operation log," Khoi replied curtly, without raising his head. "Every day I record the lights, the weather, and any incidents that occur. That's the rule."

"Can I take a look? It will help a lot with my survey," she asked, trying to keep her voice light and professional.

Khoi stopped writing, looked at her for a moment with considering eyes, then reluctantly pushed the notebook towards her. "You can only watch it in the kitchen. You can't take it out."

Hoai An nodded, sat down opposite him, flipping through each page of the notebook with great concentration. Neat, careful handwriting records every minute detail of every light bulb change, every machinery maintenance, every storm that passes through this area. She immediately realized that this was not just the work of a normal employee, but the dedication of someone who truly loved and appreciated the work she was doing.

"How long have you been doing this job?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

"I've lived here since I was little, helping my father," Khoi replied, his voice softening a bit when talking about the past. "It's been eight years since I officially accepted the station."

"Your father was also a lightkeeper here?"

Khoi nodded, but didn't say anything more. His eyes flashed a bit of gloom before he stood up, carrying the notebook towards the bookshelf, putting it in its usual place. "Where do you want to start your survey?" he asked, clearly changing the subject.

"I think we should start with the main lighting system and backup generator," Hoai An replied, taking out his tablet. "Next is to check the condition of the tower structure, electrical wiring, and finally evaluate the possibility of installing automatic sensor devices."

Hearing the word "automatic," Khoi's face flashed with obvious tension. "Okay," he replied shortly. "I'll take you to the tower."

Together they climbed the spiral staircase inside the lighthouse tower, the old cast iron steps creaking under each step. Hoai An observed the internal structure as he walked, taking notes on points that needed technical evaluation. When approaching the top, the air becomes more airy, the morning sunlight pours in through the large glass windows surrounding the light chamber.

"This is the main light set," Khoi explained, his voice becoming more confident and proficient when talking about his professional work. "Using high-power LED bulbs, combined with a Fresnel lens system to amplify light, can be seen from a distance of more than thirty nautical miles in good weather conditions."

Hoai An took careful notes and measured technical parameters with the equipment he brought. "What about the backup generator? Where is it located?"

A short but heavy silence enveloped Khoi before he answered. “Downstairs, next to the main engine room,” he said, his voice suddenly much more distant. "We'll go down there later."

Hoai An noticed the change in his attitude but did not dare to ask further, just quietly continued his measuring work. They spent nearly two hours at the top of the tower, checking every detail of the main lighting system, before Khoi led her downstairs to take a look at the engine room.

When approaching the door leading to the room where the backup generator was located, Hoai An noticed Khoi's steps slowed down, his hand tightly grasped the key but did not immediately open the door. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, noticing the unusually tense expression on his face.

"I'm fine," Khoi replied, his voice a little hoarse. He took a deep breath, then opened the door and walked in first. Inside is a small, neat room, with a generator that is carefully maintained and shiny like new.

"When was this machine installed?" Hoai An asked, moving closer to check the technical specifications.

"A year and a half ago," Khoi replied, his voice was even but Hoai An could feel the repression behind it. "The old machine had... a problem."

He didn't say more, turned and walked out of the room, leaving Hoai An standing there with many unanswered questions. She looked at his figure, clearly realizing that there was something related to the old generator, a story that Khoi clearly did not want to mention. She made a note in her head, promising to find out more when the right opportunity arose, but also realized that this was not the time to question someone who was still so far away from her.

That afternoon, when they sat down to eat a simple meal cooked by Khoi himself - a pot of braised fish and boiled vegetables - in almost absolute silence, Hoai An began to realize that behind this man's cold, rigid appearance, there was perhaps a deep pain that she could not yet touch.

In the afternoon, after completing some basic measurements on humidity and corrosion of the tower structure, Hoai An decided to go to the village to find out more information and buy a few personal items needed for the upcoming days of stay. The path down to the village was now more familiar than in the morning, although her legs were still sore from the first steep climb.

Mrs. Tu Nhan's small shop is located right at the beginning of the village, under the shade of an ancient almond tree, and is a familiar gathering place for fishermen after each trip to sea. When Hoai An stopped by, an old man with a thin but sturdy figure, his skin tanned with wrinkles, was sitting sipping a cup of tea, his eyes looking out to the distant sea.

"Is this the engineer from the Maritime Bureau?" The old man asked, his voice loud but friendly, when Mrs. Tu Nhan introduced Hoai An. "I'm Nam Vong, a close friend of Khoi's father since he was young."

"Yes, hello," Hoai An replied, sitting down on the low plastic chair opposite him. "I'm surveying the condition of the lighthouse. I'll probably stay here for a while."

"How do you see Khoi?" Mr. Nam Vong asked, his eyes somewhat searching and full of concern. "Is it... uncomfortable for you?"

Hoai An was a bit confused by that straightforward question. "Yes, he's quite... reserved," she replied tactfully. "But I think he's just being cautious."

Mr. Nam Vong sighed and nodded. "That guy wasn't originally such a cold person. Before, he was very cheerful and lively, often going to the village to play with the children. Since what happened two years ago, he's changed completely, and he almost never leaves the lighthouse anymore."

"What happened, uncle?" Hoai An asked, unable to contain her curiosity, although she also felt that this was probably a sensitive topic.

Mr. Nam Vong was silent for a moment, looking out to sea as if recalling something sad. "That's better for Khoi to tell you himself when he's ready," he said, his voice low. "I can only say, it's not the boy's fault, even though he keeps blaming himself."

That sentence made Hoai An even more curious, but she also understood what Mr. Nam Vong meant, so it was not convenient to ask further. At that moment, a boy about seven or eight years old, his skin blackened by the sun and wind, ran over and pulled Mr. Nam Vong's hand.

"Grandpa, grandpa, I caught a very big fish today!" the boy exclaimed excitedly, his arms spread wide to describe the size of the fish.

"This is Coi, the neighbor's grandson, who often follows Khoi to the lighthouse to play," Mr. Nam Vong introduced, patting the boy's head affectionately. "Hello, this is the new engineer."

"Hello," Little Coi bowed politely, then looked up at Hoai An with curious eyes. "Are you the one who will take away Mr. Khoi's lamp? I heard the aunts and uncles in the village say so."

The child's innocent but straightforward question made Hoai An pause, not knowing how to answer properly. "I... I just came to check," she replied, trying to keep her voice light. "You didn't take anything from anyone."

Little Coi didn't seem to completely believe it, but he didn't ask any more and was quickly drawn into the story about the fish he had just caught with Mr. Nam Vong. Hoai An sat there, sipping the hot tea Mrs. Tu Nhan had just poured. Her heart was heavy thinking about the boy's question, about the worried eyes of both Mr. Nam Vong and Mrs. Tu Nhan when mentioning Khoi, and about some secret hiding behind the silence of the lonely man on the lighthouse.