Chapter 13 — When the Wind Crosses the Porch

The porch collapsed at twelve past three, followed by a strong wind that made the whole house shake. No one was injured, but the filing cabinet placed under the wooden column collapsed, sending papers flying all over the yard.

Mai ran out first. Hanh stood next to the sewing machine, her face pale. Quan and Sau Luu pulled her inside, while Duy climbed up the steps to pick up each waterproof bag.

“The original box is at Sau Luu's house,” Mai said. “There are only copies here.”

“Mom's report?” Quan asked.

“In the safe.”

The safe was crushed by a beam. They cannot be opened manually. The wind still pushed the rain through the door. Mai took the crowbar, Quan held the pole, Sau Luu pulled the corrugated iron sheet. The old house resisted them like a body that hurt but didn't want to lie down yet.

Duy discovered a plastic tube under the pile of wood. Inside is a memory card with a copy of Hanh's testimony. He held it up, water running down his arm.

“Give it to me,” Mai said.

“You keep it.”

“I keep it this time.”

Duy ran to his house and wrapped the card in a bag of rice. Mai doesn't fight.

The rain lasted until the afternoon. The company sent someone to take photos of the damage, saying the house was dangerous and needed urgent relocation. Mai asked them to stand outside the boundary, but an accompanying officer said this was the reason why the site had to be cleared.

“The roof collapsed because of the wind,” Mai replied. “Not because of the project.”

“The house is not safe.”

“Then temporary repair support.”

“In the control zone, you are not allowed to self-correct.”

The circle closes again: do not allow repair, then use the damage to say it must be relocated.

The letter submitted an urgent request for permission to reinforce the roof to protect people and records. The court approved the same day, but the materials had to be tested.

Vinh brought the tarp himself. He did not enter, just sat by the gate. Hanh looked and told Mai to accept.

“He doesn't need to buy forgiveness,” Mai said.

“A canvas is a canvas,” Hanh replied. “The house still needs covering.”

Quan re-measured the porch. The wooden pole is rotten to the core and must be replaced. Mai wants to use old wood in the warehouse, but Phuc has made a record that it is a material that needs to be sealed. Finally, seven households contributed a piece of wood to each house and temporarily built a new roof.

Mrs. Lai brought the rope, Mr. Dat brought the screw, and Ms. Tam cooked the rice. The person who was once afraid to say his name now stood in Hanh's yard, passing materials from hand to hand. The house is held up by things that don't appear on the appraisal.

Duy discovered that on an old wooden stick, the number 04–09–2 was engraved. Mai remembers the sequence in the notebook. Lightly chiseled, a piece of film fell out. That's another part of the recording, Mai's father hid in the slot of the column.

The sound was damaged by the water, but the father's voice could be heard: "If the porch collapses, find the person who helped erect the first column."

The person who built the first column was Mr. Bay, a carpenter. They called him. He remembered Mai's father once requested to leave a hole in the column, but then the column was replaced by someone else.

“Who replaces?” Mai asked.

"Phuc brought a worker. He told me to tie up a termite."

Mai looked at the collapsed column. Inside there was nothing but wood mulch, but under the floor was a different colored brick. Quan lifted up. A damp cloth bag appeared, containing cooperative meeting minutes from seven years ago.

The minutes were signed by Mai's father, Vinh and Phuc. Content: seven households only agreed to receive repair support, but did not agree to transfer land. Phuc has crossed out that part on the current copy.

This is the clearest evidence ever.

The letter said it was necessary to leave traces of dirt and bricks intact, not to clean them yourself. They took pictures, sealed them, and made records with neighbors as witnesses.

At night, water flooded half of the yard. Hanh coughed violently. Mai took her mother to Sau Luu's house to rest temporarily, but she refused.

“Mom is at my house.”

“The house is leaking.”

“A leak is still a house.”

Mai did not persuade further. She placed the bed away from the water, hung a canvas, and placed the file box on a high table. Hanh sat mending a torn curtain, the light reflected on the needle.

Phuc called at nearly midnight. He said if Hanh signs a relocation agreement, the company will help repair the roof and pay rent for one year.

Hanh asked: "There are seven households left?"

“They have their own plans.”

“The plan with the wrong map?”

Phuc shut up.

“I didn't sign.”

Phuc said to Mai: "Do you think those people will stay with you forever? When the house leaks, they will receive money."

Mai replied: "If they accept, that's their choice. That's no reason for you to lie for them."

“You are making your mother suffer.”

“You made my mother suffer before I returned.”

Phuc hung up the phone.

Hanh looked at her child. “You don't need to talk like dad.”

“You talk like you.”

The next morning, the storm passed. The temporary roof can stand, but part of the yard is eroded. The independent measurement team returned and recorded damage due to weather, unrelated to the house's foundation. They measured the land markers under the mud and confirmed the old boundary.

Phuc filed an objection, but the file was temporarily maintained.

Hanh finally agreed to move to Sau Luu's house for three days to fix the foundation. Before leaving, she stood in the middle of the living room, looking at the water stains on the wall.

“Your father used to say the porch is where people sit and wait for each other,” she said. “I didn't expect that one day I would have to wait for you to come back here.”

Mai doesn't know how to answer. She just closed the window and locked it carefully.

While cleaning, they found an old photo stuck behind a board. Father Mai stood next to the first porch pillar, next to Phan Huu Loc. The two smiled and placed their hands on the same embankment design. The back of the photo reads: “Before the promise changed hands.”

Vinh looked at the photo and was silent for a long time. “My father really wanted to build an embankment for the people.”

“Then he changed his mind?”

"He was sick and assigned the job to Phuc. After his death, Phuc turned his promise into a project."

“You knew?”

"Know part of it. Don't have the courage to ask the rest."

Mai gave the photo to Thu. She said it helps demonstrate the original purpose of the project, but does not automatically erase personal responsibility.

They prepare documents for the final dialogue session. But before arriving, it is necessary to determine the remaining money. The bank sent the appraisal results: Hanh's signature was forged. The “Bay Ben Fund” account was closed immediately after the money was withdrawn.

The last person to withdraw was Phuc through Liu's authorization.

“So Phuc didn't just talk,” Thu said. “He took the money.”

Mai asked: "Will my father return that part?"

Hanh Luc memory. She remembered that after the funeral, Phuc gave her a bag of money but said it was school money. Hau received the remainder and paid it to the cooperative. It is possible that the entire cash flow matches, except for the Blessings.

Letter requesting the bank to trace the receiving account later. Phuc objected to privacy, but the investigation agency got involved.

Duy gave Mai a copy of the memory card. He notes himself the time, the source, and the copyist. The letter praised him for being careful.

“I don't want anyone to say this tape was tampered with,” Duy replied.

Mai looked at him. “I'm learning to keep the truth.”

“Are you studying too?”

"YES."

When Hanh moved into Sau Luu's house, the house was more empty. Mai stayed with Quan to monitor the temporary roof. That night, she heard the sound of water dripping from the porch, as steady as clockwork.

Quan asked: "Are you still planning to sell?"

Mai looked at the people sleeping on the floor of Sau Luu's living room through the window. "If I sell, I want money to repair the embankment for the people. If I keep it, I want the house to become a place to keep community records. I don't know which is right."

“Not a decision today.”

“But the deadline is still running.”

“The company's deadlines are not your clock.”

Mai looked at the clock. It ran past 9:17 a long time ago.

The next morning, an unstamped envelope lay under the tarp. Inside is a copy of the money transfer contract between Phuc and a company outside the province, signed on the day Mai's father passed away. The amount is equal to the remaining support.

The sender's name is unknown.

Mai knows someone on the project who ultimately chose to side with the profile.

The wind has passed, but the newly erected awning is not yet dry. The house is still not safe. Yet among the seven households, for the first time, no one said "sell the coffin".

They said: “Wait to see the documents.”

That's another way of saying they're still here.

The temporary roof is built with wooden bars brought by each family, so the color is uneven. Mai intentionally did not paint it all over. She wanted to see where the connection was, see who the materials came from, so that if it broke in the future, she could call someone to fix it. Quan said that is not a normal beauty method. Mai replied: "This house doesn't need to pretend to be new."

Hanh moved to Sau Luu's house but still comes back every morning to check the sewing machine. She brought a new notebook to record the expenses for roof repair. She no longer hides bills in her pocket. When anyone asked, she opened the book to show her, including her medicine purchases. Mrs. Lai told Hanh to add a "decider" column, so that whoever pays will know who agreed.

Duy found a sound clip in the radio components, just a few seconds of Mai's father coughing and the sound of an iron door. Not enough evidence, but enough to confirm the time of recording. He clearly wrote down "undetermined", not trying to make the sentence sound muffled. Mai complimented him, then said that a good document maker is not someone who finds answers everywhere; that's someone who knows when there's no answer.

During the last rain of the season, everyone set up tables under the temporary roof and checked the fund statement. Water falls around, but does not fall on the paper. The house is not healed yet, but we have learned not to let one person stand and catch all the leaks.