The village chief announced there would be a meeting at the community hall in the evening, so I prepared dinner early.
I pulled up some bok choy that Khang liked, picked a few eggplants to make braised eggplant with beans, and gathered some tomatoes for a soup. A dinner like that was enough.
Seeing me cooking, Khang rolled his eyes and then turned to the people still in line:
"Everyone, it's dinnertime. You should all go home and cook for the children. You can leave your containers here; I'll watch them for you. Tomorrow when you come by, you can get your water right away."
Khang grinned, his words sounding very sincere.
The people, who had grown impatient from waiting, thought for a moment before setting down their containers and dispersing.
When Khang saw me looking at him, he winked and stuck out his tongue.
"I wasn't about to let anyone else get a taste of our dinner."
I was used to his unfiltered remarks.
Grandpa didn't say anything either, just chuckled and served us food.
Khang was so hot that his forehead was beaded with sweat. He shoveled a few bites of braised eggplant and rice into his mouth.
"So delicious."
He looked like he was about to cry as he ate; I found it hard to look directly at him.
I handed him a cup of cooled tea. He took a sip directly from the cup while it was still in my hand, grinning at me. His lips, red and slightly swollen from the heat, breathed hot air onto my cheek.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable, I shifted away.
Khang grinned at me again before lowering his head to eat.
I glanced at Grandpa and saw him squinting at the two of us without a word.
Embarrassed, I lowered my head and ate, ignoring the noisy Khang beside me.
When I left for the meeting that evening, I locked the door carefully.
Khang stood on the second-floor balcony, watching me from a distance. I squinted but couldn't make out his expression.
The yard of the community hall was already crowded with villagers; there were even a few people from the next village.
When they saw me arrive, everyone smiled brightly.
I figured they wanted to talk to me about asking for water.
Sure enough, an older man sitting in the front row saw me and walked over, smiling.
"You know, you should call me uncle. You've been back in the village for a while, and I haven't had time to visit."
I've never liked listening to such pleasantries. Seeing my indifference, the village chief changed the subject:
"Look, with this drought, there's no running water in the village, and we don't know when it will end. The well at your house was dug well; it still has water even now."
I didn't want to beat around the bush, so I asked directly:
"What is your point?"
The men surrounding the village chief showed expressions of delight.
The chief didn't search for words either and said plainly:
"We've discussed it, and we plan to divert the water from your well into a large reservoir. That way, not only our village but also the neighboring Doai village will have water to use."
I frowned.
Never mind that they had made plans for my property without my consent, stripping me of my rights to use it. Just the task of diverting the water to a reservoir was not easy, and there was no guarantee of success.
I thought for a moment before saying:
"To build a reservoir like that, do you have a specific plan?"
The village chief said awkwardly:
"What's so difficult about that?"
I shook my head, feeling extremely annoyed.
"I don't agree. Water is already scarce. If you don't have a thorough plan and the diversion fails and ruins the water source, who am I supposed to hold responsible?"
The men around the village chief were stunned, not expecting someone as quiet as me to publicly humiliate them.
One of them snapped at me:
"Aren't you just unwilling to share with everyone? Who are you trying to fool with all those fancy words?"
Hearing this, some people, as if following a leader, started to get noisy, and the looks they gave me became complicated.
I suddenly felt a chill in my heart.
"When everyone came to ask for water, I never charged a single penny. This well was dug through my father's hard work. To some extent, I have the right to decide about it. You should all think it over yourselves."
After saying that, without waiting for their reaction, I left the community hall and walked home.
Before, I only felt they treated me harshly; now, it was just exploitation.
Halfway home, the stout man from down the slope caught up to me, panting.
"Phuong, don't be angry. I understand what you mean. Those old men just got hot-headed and acted recklessly without considering the situation."
I knew the stout man meant well. His family had always been on good terms with mine, helping out often.
"If they want to do it tomorrow, I won't stop them. But if anything happens later, don't come looking for me."
The stout man sighed and punched my shoulder lightly a few times. We walked home in silence.
After that, people still came for water in large numbers. After all, no one can live without water.
One by one, a few of the neighborhood women came to my house, crying.
"Phuong, I know you're a kind child. You can't bear to see our whole village depending on this one small well to live, can you? If it dries up one day, wouldn't that be a death sentence for us..."
Another woman chimed in:
"Phuong, you're not just being stingy with your water, are you?"
She said this while looking at me with an accusatory gaze, as if I had committed some heinous crime.
I was utterly fed up with their nagging and crying in my ear.
"Do as you wish."
That woman looked at me suspiciously, but seeing that I wasn't joking, her face lit up with joy, and she ran back to share the news.
Both Grandpa and Khang knew about the well situation.
Grandpa didn't show his opinion, waiting to see what I would do.
Khang, on the other hand, was furious when I told him about it. He was practically baring his fangs and claws, wanting to devour whoever had proposed the idea.
He sat beside me, resting his head on my shoulder without saying a word.
A wave of warmth spread through my chest.
A few days later, a large crowd of people came to my yard.
Not wanting to see them, I covered the vegetables in the front yard, locked the main gate, and left Grandpa and Khang at home to rest.