The Hilly Road

While the war was raging in the early 70s, a young man left his home in Da Lat, a picturesque highland town in Central Vietnam where he spent his earlier years, for Saigon to continue his studies.… Lue lisää While the war was raging in the early 70s, a young man left his home in Da Lat, a picturesque highland town in Central Vietnam where he spent his earlier years, for Saigon to continue his studies. There, he fell in love with his school friend's sister but the whirlwind of the fast paced materialistic Westernized life of the capital and his overwhelming loneliness led him down different roads. Could he find true love? First, he must love truly and truthfully. In the end he found the answer . .. just in time. The Hilly Road is his first story published in English after being translated from Con Duong Doc. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .In his memory, it was a small house in the foothills. A garden ran all around the house with many rose bushes and a chicken coop in the back. Coming back to his mind was the image of his mother with her familiar purple sweater in the garden tending the roses and cutting a few for the vase in the living room, also the happy image of his family gathering around the dining table every evening in front of the fireplace while a light rain fell outside. But the most vivid memory was the night before Christmas Eve five years ago. When he, then fifteen years old, came home for the first time for a holiday vacation. Everything appeared blurred behind the drizzling curtain. As he was walking near home, he heard the sound of a motorbike coming from up high. A red bike emerged speeding down the dirt road from the hilltop. When it reached the foothill, he could see a couple riding. The girl sitting in the back behind a man turned and looked at him. In the light of the sole lamp post on that road, he saw and could never forget the terrified look in her eyes. The man couldn't slow the bike down enough at the turn; it skidded and threw the riders off. Hung rushed to them. The two were trying to get up. On the dirt road was an open bag with a few pieces of clothing and other items strewn around. "Are you two alright? " he asked. He remembered the pretty face of the girl and the fright, and a cut under her chin with blood dripping. The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped her chin and helped her to the bike he had just stood up. "Can you go on? " he asked. "Sure, sure. I can. Let's go. "He told her to press the handkerchief on the wound to stop the bleeding and hurriedly picked up the stuff on the ground and shoved it all back in the bag. The girl could only softly utter "Thank You" to Hung before they took off. He just stood there motionless, still shocked, watching the motorbike and the couple disappear into the wall of fog. The whole thing last no longer than a minute or two but had left a deep impression on him to this day. When turning around to continue the walk home, he saw something on the ground they obviously hadn't seen. He picked up a small photo album that fit into one hand with a leather cover. The memory of the incidental encounter that night had been shoved to a small corner of his head to make room for more important things but crawled back out after he read the letter from home.