Chapter 5 — Where Old Elephants Rest

Mr. Thach was transferred to the provincial hospital three days later, according to the district doctor's instructions. Ha Lam arranged for Bay Kinh and one of his cousins to stay at the camp to take care of the elephants, while she followed the ambulance to the province with her father. During two days of in-depth tests, the results showed that his heart valve was leaking to a moderately severe level. The doctor advised early surgical intervention to avoid more dangerous complications, but also added that if he kept a comfortable mind and avoided stress and exertion, his condition could still stabilize for a while longer before surgery.

The doctor's estimate of the surgery cost was not small, a number that Ha Lam had to calculate over and over in his head all night while lying on a makeshift chair in the hospital hallway. The camp's operating funds are already tight, largely relying on small donations from a few known benefactors and a small amount of support from a foreign non-governmental organization that stopped funding two years ago because of a change in operating strategy. Now, adding this huge hospital bill, the financial burden seems to be beyond the endurance of a twenty-seven year old girl who is shouldering an entire property alone.

Sitting by the hospital bed, watching his father fall asleep after a tiring day of testing, Ha Lam took out his phone and scrolled through his work emails. Amid a series of advertising messages and spam, she saw a new email from the address of the Vietnamese Elephant Conservation Fund, confirming the field survey schedule would take place next week as scheduled, along with information about the person who would go directly to the camp - a veterinarian named Giang Tuan Khoi, who has many years of experience working in wildlife sanctuaries in many provinces and cities, and is currently in charge of the fund's technical assessment.

She skimmed through the few brief introductions attached, no photos, just some dry job information. A mixed feeling arose in her heart - both anticipation, because this could be an opportunity for the camp to receive a more stable source of funding, resolving some of the financial pressure that was weighing her down; both worried, because she didn't know how this reviewer would perceive their work, whether he - or maybe a young stranger from the city - could really understand what she and her father had worked hard to build over the years, or simply impose bookish standards that were inconsistent with the reality of a small camp in a remote area.

She texted Bay Kinh, instructing him to prepare to welcome the veterinarian on the appointed day, even though she herself was not sure if she could return in time before Mr. Thach was discharged from the hospital.

Bay Kinh called back soon after, sounding somewhat worried. "Don't worry, I'll take care of welcoming guests. You can stay there and take good care of Mr. Thach. But Lam, I think you should prepare yourself carefully for that survey. Foreign conservation funds, they have their own standards, sometimes very strict, it's not enough to truly love elephants."

"I know, Mr. Bay," Ha Lam replied, his hand tightening on the phone. "But I don't have many other options. Dad's hospital bills, food for the elephants next month, money to repair the termite-damaged fence on the west side... I've roughly lost more than a hundred million."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. "I know, daughter," Bay Kinh finally spoke, his voice low. "When Mr. Thach was still healthy, he could manage on his own, borrowing from everywhere. Sometimes he had to sell his whole herd of cows to buy medicine for the elephants. Now that burden falls on my shoulders, he loves me very much, but he is old and can only help me with his hands and feet, but he is powerless with money."

Hearing those words, Ha Lam felt a sting in her nose. She never thought she would have to face such a huge financial burden at the age of twenty-seven, but she also understands that complaining won't solve anything, only action can save the situation. She hung up the phone, opened her notebook, and began to list each necessary expense, trying to find places that could be cut back without affecting the elephants' health. At the same time, she drafted a more detailed plan to present to the upcoming veterinarian, hoping that careful preparation would partly compensate for the lack of facilities the camp was facing.

Five days later, when Mr. Thach's condition was temporarily stabilized and the doctor allowed him to go home for continued monitoring, along with a thick prescription and strict instructions about his living regimen, Ha Lam took his father back to the camp. In the car, he was silent most of the time, only occasionally looking out the window, his distant eyes watching the passing pine and coffee forests.

"What do you think, Dad?" Ha Lam asked as the car drove through the winding road along the mountainside.

Mr. Thach sighed, his voice hoarse from fatigue. "I think, if anything happens to me before I can tell you everything, you will have to face everything yourself - the whole Hoang Kim, the whole Chu Rinh village, and everything I have hidden from you for so many years. I don't want you to have to bear it alone like that."

"Dad, don't talk like that," Ha Lam interrupted, her throat choking. "Dad will get better, then he will tell you everything, and we will solve everything together."

Mr. Thach did not answer, just nodded slightly, his thin hand placed on his daughter's hand holding the steering wheel, a quiet gesture of comfort but filled with many unsaid things.

Arriving at the camp late in the afternoon, the first thing Mr. Thach did, despite the doctor's advice to limit travel, was to go to the elephant field to visit the herd. Ha Lam knew it was useless to stop him, so she helped him walk slowly, stopping to rest for a moment with each step.

When the father and son approached the fence, Sao Mai seemed to sense it from afar, leaving the shadow of the tree where he was standing, approaching, his steps slowly but surely. It stopped a sufficient distance away from Mr. Thach, stretched out its trunk, gently touched his hand, then let out a deep, long roar, a sound that, according to Ha Lam's father's explanation, was the elephant's way of expressing joy and peace of mind when meeting a familiar person again after a period of separation.

"Hello," Mr. Thach whispered, his voice trembling with emotion, his hand stroking the soft but powerful trunk of the old elephant. "I'm back, Morning Star. I still owe you and the entire Ama Rin family a full apology, I just don't have the courage to say it yet."

That sentence, although soft and somewhat like he was talking to himself, still reached the ears of Ha Lam standing next to him, making her heart ache. She didn't ask anything more at this time, just stood quietly looking at her father and Sao Mai, letting that moment of reunion be complete without being interrupted by unanswered questions.

That night, after taking care of his father's rest, Ha Lam sat alone on the porch, looking up at the starry sky on Chu Rinh peak. She thought about the coming days — the survey by the veterinarian from the conservation fund, the mounting financial pressure, the threat from Hoang Kim still lurking behind sweet promises, and the family secret still unfinished, untold.

She took out her phone, reopened the email from the Vietnamese Elephant Conservation Fund, read the name Giang Tuan Khoi again, wondering what that strange man would bring to her camp - an additional pressure to prove herself, or maybe, a real help that she needed more than ever.

The night wind blows down from Chu Rinh mountain, cool and fresh, carrying the smell of damp earth and the faint scent of elephant grass. From the beach, the sounds of four elephants stirring in their sleep, the chirping of forest insects, all blended into a familiar song that Ha Lam had heard for twenty-seven years of her life, a song she vowed to do everything possible to never extinguish, no matter how many storms were coming from all sides - from those who wanted to turn this place into a profitable commodity, and even from the secrets that had been dormant for too long in the hearts of her family.

She stood up, closed the door, stepped inside, carrying a new determination but also heavier than ever - determined not only to keep the camp alive through the storm before her, but also to learn how to face the truths that she had never been mentally prepared to receive, and from there, build a stronger, more honest future, for both the herd of old elephants and for the people who have been, are, and will still be attached to the land at the foot of Chu Mountain. This ring.