Heaven's Sister

The new school is nearly 50km away from my house. Unfortunately, I can't cycle such a long distance with my broken bicycle. If I were to attend high school there, I would have to study away from home, possibly even abroad. The problem is not that I don't want to go to a school far away, but rather the various problems that would arise if I stayed in a boarding house – accommodation, food, school expenses, electricity, water, and so on. The most significant issue is money, which my family lacks the most at this time, especially since my father, the breadwinner, is no longer with us.While we were having a meal, I shared my thoughts with my stepmother: "It's okay for me to stay home and study. If I live in a boarding house, I won't have the money to continue my education. Besides, I prefer staying at home. I'll find someone to play with here." Upon hearing this, she stopped eating and spoke to me in a serious manner: "Listen to me, you must go to school. If I can take care of everything, you can focus on studying. In the future, I will grow old and weak, and won't have the strength anymore. Then, you will have to take care of Luyen's child on my behalf..." She spoke at length, emphasizing that I must fulfill my father's wishes, reminding me that the future is long, and that I should study well and be a role model for my younger siblings. She herself had limited education and struggled to express herself fully, but she understood the pain of not being able to go to school, not having the opportunity to receive an education. Luyen sat quietly and listened; she also wanted me to go to school, and she even expressed her own desire to attend school in the future. She mentioned that if she could attend a specialized school like me, she would study to become a teacher.One day, at the end of August, I woke up very early to prepare for my departure. I wrapped myself in a sweater and a hood to protect against the cold weather. My backpack was packed with Luyen's clothes which she had prepared for me the day before, along with a bag containing a jar of dried shrimp made by my stepmother, a bag of rice in a stork bran bag, and a few miscellaneous items. In our area, the local transportation facilities were scarce. Whenever we needed to travel, we had to rely on coal cars. Whenever my father went to town to buy medicine or attend agricultural skills classes, his clothes would be soaked in sweat, and coal dust and soot would stick to him, making him pitch black and his face dirty, like Bao Cong...That was also the first time in my life that I left the impoverished district town where I was born and raised. On that day, my stepmother had to continue selling goods because if she stopped for even a day, her capital would be depleted. The previous night, she had given me thorough instructions. As I sat and listened to her guidance, I began to sense her feelings towards me, her stepchild whom she had to deal with every day, a child who was often rebellious and caused trouble...I took Luyen to my grandmother's house, with her sitting behind me and holding my backpack and belongings. My grandmother knew I would visit her that morning, so she stood outside the door with her cane, waiting. After spending some time talking with my grandmother, I reminded her to return home in time for the car. She handed me a tightly rolled ball of money, secured with an elastic band, and told me to use it as needed. The money was old and worn. Perhaps my grandmother had been saving it for a long time... She told me to study hard and become a doctor so that I could treat her back pain and her eyes, and so she could proudly tell everyone in the neighborhood, "My son Bi has achieved great success. He passed the exam and got into the biggest school in town..." Now that I have become a doctor, my grandmother has already passed away...The bus station in my hometown is nothing more than an empty lot near the market. In the morning, it serves as a bus station; at noon, it becomes a place for fish traders to dry their fish; and in the afternoon, it turns into a soccer field for children. Luyen insisted on waiting for me to get on the bus before leaving. I was squeezed into the last row of seats. I pressed my face against the rear window, watching her small figure fade away in the mist of the mountain morning. Later, whenever I had the opportunity to travel by car or bus, I would often choose the last row of seats, the place most people avoided, just to occasionally look out the window, searching for something, something vague...