up

1

That day was one of the most important days in my life — when our Baan Wha rowing team defeated that of Baan Koak Sup’s in the semifinal. It was our fourth victory this year and now, only the Zombie team and us remaining.

However, the dark shadow of the Zombie team threatened when we paddled ashore, all six of them waiting on the bank. I hadn’t noticed them so I had no idea how long they had been there. They challenged us to this final now instead of waiting for another week and Tan had agreed. The rest of us had to follow her decision.

The sound from the microphone echoed from the front of the pavilion, announcing the upcoming final round of the annual provincial boat race for the female category. Both teams were enthusiastic and eager to prove their skill. A hubbub arose from riverside villagers who were as excited as we were. We heard a huge cheer. I caught sight of my only younger brother, Odd, who had been a big supporter in all our races. He was dancing around under a tamarind tree.

The same month last year, we defeated the previous champion, the Klong Sai team. It was unbelievable for newcomers like us. Tan persuaded the five of us to enter the race. Someone like Oa in a boat race? I nearly choked with laughter, but Tan insisted we give it a try. So we ended up in the race just to get some experience. However, we’d have been ashamed to lose, so we practiced really hard. Our efforts paid off when we won.

It’s the other way round this year. We’re former champions competing to defend our title against newcomers.

I remembered the first time I heard about the new team a month ago.

Baan Klong Sai team, who had been the winner two years ago, had made a fuss about their defeat in last year’s final, saying that we were lucky because one of their first team players had taken ill and couldn’t be in the final. This might have been true, but I wasn’t happy the defeated team offered such an excuse. So we had started preparing for a return match after learning that they had been practicing really hard to retrieve their title. I was happy with this situation, hoping there wouldn’t be any excuse this time round if they lost.

Later that afternoon while paddling to the market, I passed Noi’s house. She called to me breathlessly to report the big news — the Klong Sai team had been knocked out in the first round by a rookie team from Baan Sam Ruen. I couldn’t believe my ears. How could that have been? I had never heard of that village!

Noi said she had gone to see the race herself. The Klong Sai team had lost by nearly a boat length. The Baan Klong Sai girls were devastated; many of them were tearful and even Noi couldn’t help feeling a little pity although she was not a supporter.

It was on that very day Noi gave this underdog team the nickname ‘Zombies’ because those girls had no trace of smiles or compassion. Their faces looked grave and indifferent, like zombies. I was quite anxious after hearing that. Not long after, they became the talk of the town and a favorite to win the title. Their reputation had continued to grow ever since. Our rival had thus changed from Baan Klong Sai to Baan Sam Ruen.

I had never thought that what we’d been anticipating would come true in a few seconds. I didn’t need to look into the mirror to realize I had turned completely red. I became a red pumpkin. I was always like this when I was excited, reddish with tiny drops of sweats appearing above my mouth, and sticky palms.

 2

The two teams’ boats were in place, floating at the starting point. I couldn’t help staring at our opponents’ extraordinarily beautiful faces.

We had talked about them many times without ever seeing their faces. One day, we saw them for the first time. It happened at the market two weeks ago, in front of Paeng’s house. Noi and I were chatting at the grocery run by Paeng’s family. While the three of us were enjoying our conversation, Noi suddenly stiffened, became wide-eyed, and whispered to us,

“That’s them. The Zombies.”

I turned to look and noticed three teenage girls shopping in a crowd. They were easy to spot. There was something about how they carried themselves that differentiated them from the other people around them. What struck me was that I found them all beautiful.

“Is that the Zombies team? I don’t think they deserve that name at all,’’ I whispered to Noi.

I thought to myself that the three girls weren’t less beautiful than Tan. On our team, only Tan could be called a beauty. The rest of us were plain, or at best, we were just acceptable-looking to the average guy. Tan was actually the village’s beauty queen, and our pride as well, though she was never aware of it. She’s boyish, stiff and mischievous. She describes herself as a violet without scent. How she described herself! I didn’t agree. I thought she was a peerless beauty. It was just that she was dark and didn’t dress up.

However, the three members of the Zombie team were no less beautiful than Tan. They were tall and slim, with skin fairer than Tan’s. They all had long dark hair. However, there was something hard and unforgiving about their manner. Just as Noi had said, they looked slightly malicious.

One of them seemed to sense she was being watched and talked about. She turned to stare at me firmly. I was startled and looked away.

Noi whispered to me, “That’s the captain.’’

“How about the other three who didn’t come?  How do they look?” Paeng whispered to Noi inquiringly.

“Not much different than this lot,’’ Noi answered as if unimpressed. Paeng and I looked at each other.

I exclaimed, “Oh wow! I can’t believe it. There’re only gorgeous people in that village, aren’t there?’’

Noi shook her head. “I don’t know. That’s not important. What’s important is I think they look like zombies.’’

Since that day, I was half-scared, half-amazed by them.

Now that the two boats were floating side by side, I was even more scared. My hair started to rise. What I noticed first was their silence, their serious air. If people look at us, they might wonder how dedicated to winning we are. I, for one, had never seen myself as a sportsperson. It’s just that I had been paddling since I was a kid so I could do it. It was only because of Tan’s determination that we were here in this competition, in my boat. I was positioned at the front, on Tan’s left. Behind her was Tao and behind me was Noi. Paeng and Deuan were at the back.

When closely compared, I could see more clearly that we couldn’t compete with them when it came to appearance. I was round-faced and tiny; my friends called me pumpkin. Tao was as slim as Tan and could be called a sporty type. However, she was not as good-looking as Tan. She was darker, had rougher skin, and beautiful white teeth. Above all, she was the quietest person on our team.

Noi, on the other hand, did not look good at all. She was short, hot-headed, and blunt. Her only good point was that she was terribly honest. She never had any hidden agenda. Unfortunately, Paeng was even plumper this year than last. If you judged solely from Paeng, you might think we had no chance to win because of her weight. She boasted that she was strong despite her excess weight, though I wasn’t convinced of it. I love Paeng, anyway. She’s the kindest of all and has never taken advantage of her friends.

Deuan, the last one to be described here, had light skin and wasn’t too bad-looking. Her lips were naturally red without lipstick and that’s why I thought she was the sexiest. On the other hand, she was tricky and often took advantage of the others. However, she was a permanent member of the team because we’d been in the same class since Grade 1.

The sound of the whistle suddenly pierced the humid air and the race began.

I started to feel indescribably afraid. I feared losing — it’s a kind of cowardice I’d suffered since I was a kid. This perhaps drew me to Tan, who’s an entirely fearless person. I chose to sit beside Tan because, at least, I felt motivated. Without Tan, I wouldn’t have had the courage to enter the race.

Looking back, the love I had for Tan began when we were in Grade 1, but it seemed to have been forever.

I remembered when we were kids. Tan was bold enough to fight with boys. More surprisingly, she actually beat them. She said all human beings had an Achilles’ heel. If you attacked that point, you could beat them, such as punching an opponent’s eyes. This sounded very easy, but I would never be able to do it. Tan, on the contrary, always got it right and sent many boys crying.

Tan wasn’t afraid of bigger kids. If opponents were much stronger, she’d use a stick. She said fighting was about spirit. If you had high spirit, you’d already won half the fight. I listened with understanding but whenever Tan’s not around, the notion of winning half the fight with spirit just disappeared. I was a better supporter. When there was an argument, it was Tan who’d come forward. Fortunately, all this is just a childhood memory. We’re big girls now and Tan’s just too cute for any boy to fight with.

Sitting beside Tan, I felt a special energy flowing through me. At least, I would paddle with all my power.

It was a straight row from the beginning to the finish line, where a red flag was stuck in the middle of the river bed as a marker. The distance was 400 metres. I didn’t know when we reached the finish line. I only knew I was so worn down that I couldn’t determine if we had won or lost. Lacking courage to look at the opposing team, I just rowed forward.

The sweat poured off my forehead and went down into my eyes, making it difficult to see. When I cleared my eyes, I looked at the bank and our Baan Wha fellows, particularly Odd. By his reaction I could tell if we’d won or lost. My heart sank when I saw him standing right there with no familiar jumping around. Had we lost? My eyes stung as if I were about to cry.

I then looked back at my friends. They were sweat-soaked and looked nervous as if they were also unsure as to who the winner was.

Then we heard an announcement from the microphone.

“The result for the province’s annual boat race between Baan Wha and Sam Reun is a tie.’’

3

The sun blazed that afternoon.

When I was in a race, I never dared to look at our rivals. I was afraid of being distracted, of losing, so I fixed my eyes only on the red flag that marked the winning line. When I learned that we had ended up in a tie, I could barely refrain from shouting hooray in delight, but was afraid we’d lose the dignity of a former title holder. They would have thought that we were the underdog. I held Noi’s hand tightly. Winning the title for another year was deeply satisfying.

But something unexpected happened. The Zombies paddled their boat towards us while their captain, who sat in the bow, said,

“We don’t want to share the championship. We want to race again. What do you say?’’

Their insulting look infuriated Tan.

“As you wish! Anytime you want!’’ she shouted back.

I saw them paddle back to the gazebo as I sat numbly next to Tan. I couldn’t believe we had to race again. How was I supposed to regain my strength? Noi would usually be the first to whine in this situation, but it was Deuan’s voice this time.

“Tan, my arms have nearly fallen out.’’

“Mine too.’’ Paeng’s voice followed in a gentle tone. “You should have asked for your teammates’ opinion, Tan, to check if we could still manage. It’d be embarrassing to lose, so why don’t we race another day?’’

I agreed with Deuan and Paeng, but dared not say a word. Upon looking at Tan’s strained face now, I realised she was angry.

“If we wait for another day, we might also lose. But if we don’t have the courage to fight them now, they will laugh at us forever. Is this what you guys want? Didn’t you notice the way they looked at us? Rather than choose to share the title with their contempt, I think it’d be better if we fight our best and lose now.’’ Tan said plainly.

“But we’ve raced twice now and they held the high card. They took advantage of the situation knowing that you would agree to continue after a challenge. Why do we have to fall into their trap? It’s not fair!’’ Noi objected.

“Noi!’’ Tan roared. ‘’Stop looking at it from that angle. Nobody looks at a race from that point. It’s about spirit. You have already lost by thinking that you’re being taken advantage of.’’

Paeng and Deuan dropped their faces without arguing. Everybody was used to following Tan’s lead in critical situations. She was angry. Who would dare to talk back?

The announcement of a rematch stirred some agitation and criticism from the villagers. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but I believed the crowd got even bigger. It was like a big festival. Where had all these people come from?

4

We slowly paddled back to the starting point. I felt a cool breeze and took the opportunity to have some rest.

The sound of the whistle signaled the race had begun.

I was already exhausted even before it began. My arms ached, yet I didn’t dare to upset my friends. It was in such critical situations that we became aware of our attachment. We would skip school together, whether to just hang out or find something crazy to do. This race might be the last year we’d do this kind of thing together. Our paths had gradually separated because now we didn’t even go to the same school anymore.

I was trying to concentrate and remain calm by thinking of something else, just letting thoughts flow into my mind while my arms worked rhythmically in accordance with my teammates. I believed letting my thoughts roam was the best way to relieve the exhaustion. I had always been a daydreamer, anyway.

The thought of my mother flashed in my mind for a moment. I hadn’t seen her since the morning. Sometimes, she’d come to give me moral support. As for my father, there’s nothing for him but drinking all day. It’d be a blessing if he’s in a good enough mood not to scold me.

Drinking caused his mood swings. There was always the possibility of fists if he got frustrated. He could lose himself when he hit me and there were many times that I fell ill after the punishment. Sometimes, when he wasn’t drinking and was in a good mood, he would cuddle me on his lap for a long time.

He wanted me to be more ladylike, to stay inside instead of being a sportsperson. I was the only daughter, so he was possessive of me sometimes. He never fussed over his sons, like my big brother Oat, who worked in Bangkok and rarely came home. Oat didn’t take any interest of me. Odd, on the contrary, was pretty close to me, probably due to the fact that I also brought him up.

Fortunately, my mother was sweet and patient and never told me off. Although my family was not the best, compared to my friends’ families, it was ok. Tan was orphaned at birth and lived with her aunt. Luckily, her aunt loved Tan as her own flesh and blood. However, I could feel Tan’s orphan mentality. It’s a kind of deep loneliness that nothing can remove.

Tao’s mother also died in childbirth. She had only an undertaker father to bring her up. Old as he was, Tao’s father loved her and even came to support her today. Both of Noi’s parents may be alive, but it’s as if they didn’t exist, leaving her in the care of her grandmother. Sometimes they sent money, sometimes not. It’s her grandmother who loved and took care of her since she was a baby while her parents only visited once in a long while. I didn’t really understand this. Why didn’t they love their own child?

Paeng had both parents, but they’re merchants. They spent the days trying to earn as much as they could. Paeng’s life was fine, but she never felt such warmth as I had from my father, who still had his gentle days despite his usual drunken ferocity.

Deuan lived with her mother. Her father left them a long time ago. It’s good her mother was very diligent and that was why they could manage. Come to think of it, all six of us had somewhat dysfunctional family backgrounds and this, perhaps, explained why we loved one another so much.

It was as if I had heard someone calling my name, as if I had been instructed “Chin up and fight, Oa!’’ If my ear wasn’t mistaken, it must have been Odd.

I was terribly exhausted during this replay, honestly. My muscles were overheated and pain had spread to my limbs, shoulders, and to my body and neck. I felt the racing distance was so long. It was as if it had been stretched twice as long and would take us ages to reach the finish line. Despite all this, I felt there was a gap for my imagination during each single stroke.   

5

Eventually, we arrived at our goal.

When we arrived at the finish line in the second race, my heart beat intensely. I felt the Zombie team had arrived around the same time. I nearly looked back but managed to refrain from doing so. Deep inside, I was so proud to have reached the finish line. I had been afraid of failing to arrive. I scooped a handful of water from the canal to wash my face and release my breath. I wanted to sleep.

“I think we lost.” Noi said.

“Bloody Noi! Say something better or I’ll kick you into the canal.’’ Tan replied sternly.

“But I saw their boat a little ahead of ours,’’ Noi argued.

“So why didn’t I see the same despite sitting at the front? You must have had an illusion. That ‘losing to them a little’ incident took place only in your mind.’’

“Tan, Noi was only giving her opinion.’’ I gave my opinion while Tan’s face twisted in tired anger.

I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. During the time we were racing in this replay, I only thought of her with love. I thought I’d never let her down. But when she’s frustrated, she just looked daggers at me.

“Tan, since when have you become a dictator?’’ Noi was starting to get angry.

“I could be one right now. Who cares?’’ Tan answered stubbornly.

Tan’s disturbing behaviour was increasing and soon nobody would be able to tolerate it any longer. In the blink of an eye, I saw something. It made me crack a smile before bursting into laughter.

“Hey, what are you laughing about?’’ Tan’s voice remained stiff.

“It’s your face! Your face now is just like when you were little, terribly ugly.’’ I replied, thinking of young Tan’s face when she was about to get into a fight, with that stubbornness and irrationality that were both irritating and funny.

Then, I heard some giggles from behind and eventually everyone in the boat burst into laughter including Noi and Tan.

Suddenly, the result was announced. I couldn’t believe my ears. We were tied again.

After the announcement was over, I felt a certain pressure on my chest, both relief and anxiety. I thought everyone was worried about what would follow. It was like we were desperate to get something done but were unable to.

I had never had a tie since I began boat racing, but today we had been tied twice. Deep down, I felt a sharp sensation of pleasure, believing today was a special day which I would never forget. However, I was afraid we would have to race again. When the Zombie team paddled in our direction to challenge us for another race, I knew how things would be.

Tan accepted their challenge.

When they came over to challenge for the third time, we all fell silent leaving the decision all to Tan, knowing there was no way to change her mind. Our boat floated gently. I turned around to see my friends’ faces only to discover that they looked awfully pale.

Tao, who hardly uttered a word, said, “Let us not go against one another. We should put our strength together. If we decided to follow Tan’s lead, we should follow her decision. If Tan should need to ask for our opinion every time, our strength would be weaker. We should agree to do whatever Tan wants.’’

Tao’s words came only once in a while, but what she said was reasonable. Everybody was silent.

Tan turned back and reached her hand out to stroke Noi’s arm gently.

“Noi, please don’t be offended. I’m just a crazy daredevil but actually, winning or losing is no big deal. It’s just for fun.’’

At that moment, Noi’s face beamed. I thought this was the best thing about Tan. Although she’s a very determined person, she’s ready to be flexible as well. I believed she really meant what she said. Looking back, there were many times that Tan tackled situations this way, picking them up and putting them down as if life was just a theatrical play and she herself a versatile actress. Although I had seen this many times before, I’d still be amazed, wondering how it came about with magic that could change a whole situation.

All of a sudden, we all lift up the paddle and shouted in unison.

“We Baan Wha, fight to the death!’’

This time, our village chief and committee objected, thinking we were already exhausted and should have been content with the result. But with both teams insisting, they could only shake heads at our stubbornness.

6

The whistle signaling our third match was blown. From that second onward, I discovered that the world would never be the same.

The first difference was the sound. All the sounds around me seemed to disappear. Gone were the loud noises of the spectators, the songs of the birds, the wind, and the water, leaving only dead silence.

All the movements around me seemed to slow down. I began to pick up on all the images as well as details I had never noticed. It was as if I had all the time in the world to see despite being in the most important final race. I had time to inspect the surrounding scenes. I could even see Tan’s face and notice her expression.

As for this round, I realized we had neared the horizon, heading for the point of no return.

Images from the past returned to me.

One day, we were playing in the water in front of Noi’s house. That afternoon, there were thousands of insects from somewhere floating along the tide. We were playing in the water with them. Actually, we felt irritated, itchy when touching them but it was such fun. We were like ships that had to avoid underwater mines. We never knew where these insects came from. They just arrived and disappeared. We never saw them again. I liked watching them swimming. I thought they swam beautifully, more beautifully than fish did.

I thought of lunchtime at school. The six of us often shared lunch. Paeng’s lunch box was the most abundant, with a huge amount of rice. Hers was my favorite. Tao’s was the most pathetic, having only a Thai omelette and plain rice. Noi’s lunch was often accompanied by a lot of her grandmother’s hand-made desserts. Most of the time Deuan’s was Chinese sausages whereas Tan’s aunt always made sure her niece had fish at lunch, so often that she became bored with it. We enjoyed sharing lunch, with Tan enjoying Tao’s omelette and Tao enjoying Tan’s fish.

I thought of the school’s tug-of-war game between Grade 9 and Grade 8. We were in Grade 9 and had to compete with our juniors, who were actually bigger and stronger than we were. Each side was comprised of twenty players. I had a good memory of the match because we were about to lose until Tan jumped and pulled the rope and we ended tied. She helped us to have perfect timing to muster up our strength together again. She had such a strangely quick fighting instinct.

I thought of the day Tao teased all of us.

That day, we were on our way back from a midnight outdoor cinema. It was one o’clock and we were walking on a levee with no electricity along the way. Tao was ahead of us and suddenly she just shouted “Ghost, ghost!’’ The rest just ran for our lives with Tan on the lead.

I was the only one left motionless, probably too frightened to move. Looking up, there was only a vague shadow. I was so scared that my heart almost stopped beating. It took quite a while until I started to be suspicious, and eventually realised that it was just a scarecrow.

Tao was hardly talkative but when she teased us, it was very naughty. We had a belly laugh whenever we thought of it. Now I could remember we couldn’t rely on Tan when it came to supernatural situations.

Looking far ahead, I could see clouds floating low, as if moving closer into my lap. Actually, the sky wasn’t as far as we thought it was while water didn’t have as much resistance as it used to. I felt as if I didn’t have to use any strength in each stroke. It was contrary to what I had thought it would have been. Instead of being the longest and most exhausting round, it was the least tiring race.

What had happened? It was as if I had had this experience before, in a dream, not in real life. But how did it happen in real life this afternoon. Who made us travel beyond the horizon?

Tan always said the core of a fight was in your heart. Loser and winner were decided in our hearts.

How could she know that? She couldn’t have known. It might be a memory from her previous life, or she might have stolen it from somewhere. But it looked nothing like a copied idea. It was hers.

I didn’t know whose words she borrowed, but the memory said…

Yes or no.

                                    The direction to the goal.

It’s barely comprehensible, but she liked it. It was her personal motto although she couldn’t remember from where it originated or how she could explain it to others.

Now it seemed I could understand, and knew its origin, or even saw beyond that. Words were meaningless without actions. This is a universal truth. The situation was difficult and frightening because the goal was also moving.

Not only our boat was moving, but the red flag in front of us and even the whole canal was also moving. I felt as if my lungs were expanding, my arms stretching.

I was surprised at why I seemed to use so little strength this time. It was as if the tide was taking us forward and this boat was alive and taking us to our goal and I had a lot of free time. There were so many dreams I could fantasize, time to ridicule myself or time to tease a friend in my mind.

Yes, did Tan understand what she had said? Whether she knew it or not, we were moving towards the same direction, in the same boat.

Everyone said Oa was morose. I cried out loud when dad hit me or even when I was agitated by others’ words. Now, I was about to cry, but they were just tears that slowly dropped one after another. They originated from the thought that we hardly would have come to this point, without Tan’s stubbornness and irrationality. Even the aloofness, stern face of the Zombies could be explained.

I remembered the first day I met Tan, as well as the days I met my four other teammates, the day I was playing chase with Deuan, the day Tao teased me. I had so much time I didn’t know what to do with it.

I still did not know whether we’d won or lost. I only understood why we had never lost in the past. At that time, I began to notice my breath was in harmony with my friends’, moving in and out with the same rhythm. We went forward as one breath, why hadn’t I noticed this before?

When we went beyond the horizon, winning or losing was no big deal although this didn’t mean there was no winning or losing. Without turning around, I knew my friends were also crying.

Not everyone got to arrive at the horizon, and go beyond it. I cried because I knew we were fortunate.

When would we arrive at the finish line? When would the time run out? I thought of everything about myself and others and there was still time. Eventually, the finish line arrived and all the sounds of the world returned to normal.

7

After the sound of the announcement from the panel judge declaring the third draw of the day was over, the applause and loud shouts from the audience erupted with the sound of music which was turned up so loudly it was as if the world was coming to an end.

I saw the Zombie team paddling to us again and the captain whose name I didn’t know said, “If we challenged you to a fourth race, what would you say?’’

Tan smiled this time, raising her eyebrows.

“I already told you, as many time as you want. We’d never pull back.’’

The captain of the Zombie team looked at Tan sternly. I wondered why they hated us so much.

While they went to notify the panel judge of the decision, we floated in our boat waiting for the answer. I looked behind to see the others. Noi and Tao were holding hands tightly, as well as Deuan and Paeng. Everybody looked happy. Tan seemed cheerful, too. I was pleased, although I realised I hardly had any strength left for a fourth race. It just suddenly occurred to me that my strength was used up but I wasn’t worried. This might be because the experience I just had was so meaningful that losing the championship in the next race was nothing to me. If they wanted to win that much, let them win.

For me, the race had ended.

There seemed to be some sort of disagreement at the panel’s tent. A moment later, I saw the village head coming towards us with the Zombie team behind him. He walked to the bank near where our boat was floating and said.

“The result was finalised. You all should go home now. As for the trophy, you have to wait for a while. The committee will give them to both teams.’’

“But please, we wanted a decisive result, not sharing the title.’’, the voice of the Zombies’ captain burst out. She continued, “Also, the Baan Wha team has the same opinion.’’

The village head wearily waved his hand and walked away. I began to notice more than half of the crowd leaving, one after the other. I was wondering why the Zombie team finally yielded when Noi nudged my waist. Turning back, she pointed above and now I realised it was  dark.

8

That afternoon, my friends and I were having some ice and syrup in the market.

It was the first time we had all met in one whole week. When we came together, we chatted non-stop. I told them after the race, I was stuck in bed with a fever for three days. Actually, all my friends fell ill after returning home, including Tan, because of over-exercising. Most of them, however, were sick for only a day. However, I was scared my father would rebuke me so I pretended to be okay during the day, waking up and doing housework as usual and taking a nap only while he was out. This delayed my recovery.

Everybody was talking about their own illness as a joke.

The school year was about to begin. We would never have a chance to get together. My heart sank at the thought, wondering why none of us went to the same school. The six of us, with the exception of Noi who would not further her studies, would go to different schools.

All of a sudden, there seemed to be some kind of electricity shooting through the shop. I felt my hair somewhat raised while my friends seemed taken aback. I started to realise what was going on. Turning to the shop’s entrance, I saw all six of the Zombie team, standing there.

Nobody uttered a word and the whole atmosphere was terribly awkward. Even the shopkeeper and other customers seemed to sense that. It’s as if a war was going to break out due to an encounter between two rival parties. Each seemed to be strangely self-possessed. The surrounding chitchat seemed to diminish.

I didn’t know what was going on in my mind when I said, “Would you like to join us for some ice and syrup?’’

When I finished, my heart sank. I wasn’t sure if I had done something wrong now that everything had fallen into dead silence…as silent as a cemetery. I lowered my face, smiling sheepishly.

Suddenly, I heard an unexpected sound. It was faint laughter from all the Zombies. It was such a little noise but it seemed to relieve the tense atmosphere.

They actually approached our table and sat down. The captain placed herself between Noi and me. Before she sat down, she gently messed my short hair teasingly.

As she sat next to me, I felt certain warmth. She was near enough for me to carefully observe her face. She was more beautiful than Tan. Her skin was very fine and her eyebrows were longer. Her lashes were curled and her nose prominent. Not only that she was alive, a very lively person.

I had thought that afternoon that we raced was the happiest day of my life. However, this afternoon was no less wonderful. Although it was so simple, with her sitting next to me saying, “What’s your name? My name is Nant.’’ 

up

1

From the 40^th floor meeting room of Thailand’s number one record company, there’s a view of Bangkok, covered with a fog of pollution that makes the sky look gloomy at noon.

All four main shareholders were present, sitting at a round table. They were the three brothers and their sister, all of the Wongtham-anant family and they were faced with a major problem which threatened the company.

The incident took place two days ago. News and rumours about it have been published continuously.

“We only have a few hours left before we have to talk to reporters. We can no longer stall for time. So, I think we need to reach some conclusion to this mess.” Surajet exclaimed. He’s a middle son and also the company’s vice-president. He’s now very moody after having been frustrated about this incident for two days.

“This is such a damaging news report. I can’t believe this is possible. I would have taken it with a grain of salt if it had been about someone else. But it’s about Prae. We’ve known her for many years and know she’s extremely naïve.” said Suwanna Wongtham-anant, the elder sister, gently.

She was talking about Prae, the company’s most famous and best-selling singer for a number of consecutive years. The girl was only 27 years old, and possessed a nice character, a pretty face and enchanting vocals, which enabled her to have great success.

“I can’t understand how the news that Prae used to be a sex worker came out and how it has been blown up all out of proportion. If this was a rumour spread by our competitors, I would ask them who they think they are to do such a thing.”

She paused for a moment, then asked the group, “Do you think the rumour could be true, that our Prae used to be a prostitute?”

Prae had been a singer in their company since she was 15. Within a short time, she rose to become the company’s most valuable talent. It has been said that for the past 12 years, it was she that propelled the low-ranking company to the top. The company could not afford to lose such a treasure.

The four Wongtham-anant siblings, from eldest to youngest included Suwanna, Surajit, Surajet and Surachai. Each was separated by two years. Suwanna was now 52, Surajit 50, Surajet 48 and Surchai 46.

“I think we need to deal with it.....because it’s true,’’ Surajit said.

He was the second child and the eldest son, as well as chairman of the company.

2

The air-conditioned atmosphere in the meeting room was almost cold, but to the four of them present, this noon was sultry, particularly to Surajit. His face was impassive, his eyes hardened. His chest was burning inside as he slowly told Prae’s story to his siblings.

His mind gradually put in order images of events that had taken place fifteen years ago. He had been 35, with no hopes left in life. He had been dissolute and endlessly lecherous.

He had met Prae, a child sex worker, in a cheap brothel.

For three nights, he had slept with this 12 year old girl, her face as lovely as that of a doll.

The first night he had met her, she had had short hair. She had been so tiny and had had such an innocent smile it seemed as if she had nothing to do with the world around her. Her beauty and innocence had triggered his interest, curiosity, and lust.

She had been quickly able to find playthings in the room. Every tiny little thing, even flies or mosquitoes, became a toy. At that time, he knew he had encountered a child and that this soul was different from that of an adult.

He remembered she had liked to sit by the window, watching the world outside with curiosity, from streetlights to stars in the sky.

He placed her on his lap. Compared to Oh, his daughter who would turn 8 this year, there was hardly any difference-one was his own flesh and blood, the other wasn’t.

Even though he had had two children, there were times he had lived life like a playboy as if he were a cloud floating to wherever the wind blew it. He hadn’t cared when or how he would die. Looking back, he thought of those days living in the present as happy ones. It had been a surprise to wake up each morning and find himself still alive.

He remembered opening his eyes one morning and finding her sound asleep, with something held tight in her left fist. With curiosity, he slowly loosened her grip and discovered it was just a candy. His chest trembled. He thought to himself that he’d never have the courage to return to this girl again.

Only a few days later, he had come back to her again.

Once again, she had been sleeping in his arms. She couldn’t even remember him when they met. For her, he was a void, just another blanket. He was less interesting than a cockroach.

He told himself that he would stop. However, he returned to her for the third time a few days later.

He suddenly woke up at the crack of dawn on their third encounter. He heard some music and opened his eyes to see, remaining still. He saw Prae sitting by the window, looking absent-mindedly far away. She was singing. Her voice was so beautiful that his hair stood up. It was that morning that he knew Prae, and knew himself.

3

Prae loved to sing. Learning from the radio, she could sing both pop and country songs.

That morning, he was listening to Prae’s singing. It was as if he had been born again. He knew what he was looking for. Hers was not merely a beautiful voice. There was a lot more to it. It was a different world, a different universe which was so clear, so sweet and pure than it seemed impossible to exist in this one. It made him so happy he could never have forgotten.

He knew the voice he was listening was not belonged to human.

He decided to buy her out of the brothel and support her as if she were his own child. He sent her to school and never had any sexual interaction with her again. He was cautious and never even gave her a hug. He felt he was deeply indebted to her.

When Prae was fifteen, he signed her to his company without ever thinking she would lift them to a number one market position. He was only thinking that her singing should be shared with others.

“All these years, the last thing I wanted to happen was that others would know of Prae’s background. I wanted those days to be a faded nightmare. But after what has been happening for the past three days, I have changed my mind. I want to uncover everything.’’

Surajit concluded with a stern, but calm face. He had changed during these many years from a playboy to a man who no longer desired anything.

His siblings sat there, amazed. They were waiting for his reason, but he was silent.

“Why expose her, brother? We still had time to cover it up?” Surachai, the youngest brother, couldn’t help asking. His voice was always sweet and gentle. Even in stressful situations, he never seemed to have any anxiety. His self-control was excellent. He still had a bright smile while others only nodded in agreement.

“Who would blame a girl sold into a brothel by her father at age 10?”, Surajit continued. “If there’s anyone to blame, it’s him. He disappeared long ago and her mother died long before the poor girl had any memory of her. As for me, whatever I could be accused of or blamed for, I couldn’t care less.”

When he finished, Suwanna said, “But it’s very risky, Surajit. I want you to think of Parnjun.”

4

He thought of Parnjun, his legitimate wife. He wed her not long after he had finished university. He had been 25 and she 21. Surajit was the eldest son so his parents wanted him to be properly settled down in order to become the mainstay for the family, including his two younger brothers. As for Suwanna, despite being the eldest child, their parents hardly gave her a thought.

He was introduced to Parnjun, a daughter of his father’s friend, and agreed to marry her in an instant. That day, he was young and had little experience and she was a very beautiful woman with long hair and a nice figure.

He only looked at her appearance because it had been the most interesting aspect to him at the time. He was interested in breasts, thighs, hair, lips, teeth, and smile. He cared nothing for her mind. With his arrogance and self-confidence, he believed any problem to occur was of no importance and could be solved.

The first year they were together, he had been happy because marriage was so new to him. It was the first time he had had a taste of sex. Prior to this, he had been an academically-oriented boy and his parents’ pride. However, his amusement and excitement were to be short-lived, in less than a year.

During the second year of marriage, Surajit found out that he and Parnjun were two incompatible characters. Marrying her was a mistake. Being near her was misery. He felt a constant longing, as if something spiritual had been missing from his life. Initially, he thought it was his lustful character but it wasn’t. He had an ordinary sexual desire, but there was something subtle to it that he couldn’t quite understand. There was something he longed for that Parnjun never had.

She was a harsh and ignorant person who was, like so many others, engaged in the material world with no thought of the spirituality he longed for. In some ways, her lack wasn’t a big flaw, but for him, it created a pain that directly pierced his heart. When he realised he had made a mistake and was considering divorcing her, she was expecting Oh.

When she had Un, it was the fifth year they were together and he was tired of her. He was confident their marriage was a failure. It was torture that as his feelings for her waned, she had two strong loops to bind him.

He gradually changed. With a sense of responsibility to his children, he didn’t dare break up with her. However, a craving started to grow and reached its peak within a couple of years. He didn’t want to keep a mistress, but started to sleep around as if he wanted to drain water from his body, to put out the fire inside.

The desires were endless and he could never feel satisfied.

He never seriously quarrelled with Parnjun or abused her. Their exchanges expressed coldness and hatred of each other. Even now, when he no longer chased after women, the hatred of his wife still remained. It clotted thickly. They were two totally opposite types of people.

Parnjun was his only weakness. She made him exhausted, as if he had been a common man who was born into this world and died. He was unable to think of anything superior to any other people in the world.

5

“If you confess to the public what you’ve told us, nobody out there will believe that this girl wasn’t your secret mistress, particularly Parnjun,” Suwanna warned. Kind and responsible for the family as she was, she remained conservative in her outlook. She said this while slowly shaking her head. Surajit looked at his only sister and what he saw was a woman who looked older than her age, small and thin as if her body had shrunk from last year.

Surajit laughed. “Although we’ve lived in the same house, Parnjun and I have hardly had anything to do with each other for many years. We’ve tried our best to avoid each other and, in fact, were near the point of divorce many times. If she wants to split up today, I only wish it would not be linked to Prae. She shouldn’t be used as a scapegoat. She has been exploited more than enough in this life.”

“Before, I had no courage for a divorce because Oh and Un were young. Now, they’re old enough to think for themselves about what has happened, who’s right or wrong. They know whose side to take.”

As he spoke of Oh and Un, his heart began to ache, because his two children were like their mother, particularly Oh. She was similar to her mother both in appearance and thought. She knew what she shouldn’t know and didn’t know what was important.

He remembered he spent nights making a handmade present for her thirteenth birthday. It was a tale he had written illustrated with his best efforts at watercolour in a hard-cover notebook. He gave it the title, “Oh’s Adventure.” He had created it from his recollections of her when she had been a baby. He thought he had already spoiled her too much and she’d had everything except that which he might make by himself. He intended to give her a pleasant surprise.

But as it turned out, the gift had the opposite result. She smiled weakly and took it out of courtesy. With his sensitivity, he was very disappointed during that little moment when she reached out her hand to take the notebook, knowing that this present meant nothing to her. She was so much like her mother.

He was upset with his own daughter. From that day onwards, he only gave her gift certificates so she could choose presents for herself. She seemed to be contented and he didn’t have to waste time.

This is such dryness, such coarseness. He was sad that what was one of a kind was worthless to her.

There was also a kind of secret dryness in Prae, but it was a serene and happy dryness.

His feelings for Un were ambiguous. He noticed a degree of coldness in the boy. Surajit wouldn’t have been surprised if Un took his mother’s side. One mistake made by an adult might bring about an unwanted outcome that’s not likely to end well.

He could tolerate his two children better than he could his wife, perhaps because they were still young and there was some sweetness and liveliness at their age. However, there were many times he felt tortured inside. While he loved his children more than he did his wife, there was also the fear of more vengeance.

Seeing their cold, coarse and soulless characters made his heart suddenly stop beating. It was incredibly severe, but he knew it was his own character. Perhaps he wasn’t suited to have a family because he would remember for a long time the pain inflicted upon him by his loved ones.

Why shouldn’t he love Oh? She was his first child. He remembered the excitement when he visited his wife at the hospital. He was hovering around in front of the labour room. It was the most valuable experience of his life, that time when he was expecting Oh’s arrival.

The day he met Prae, however, he discovered himself. He knew that he was actually looking for a love that may have been too delicate to find. It was something subtle and strong, a spiritual love.

6

“I have known my brother Surajit for so long. I know you’re straightforward, serious and now that you have lived for half century, I believe what you’ve said. But I have something to tell you.” It was Surajet who said this. Now, his expression was calm and peaceful. He was a tough businessman, and among his siblings, he was subtly clever.

“I look at things the way they are and now I’m 48, with four kids, all of whom are nearly grown-up. However, your story wasn’t easy for me to accept, let alone the people out there.”

“People are creatures with particular characters. I know them well because I’m a businessman. If I didn’t understand them, I wouldn’t be able to do business. They would be ignorant of many details even if those details were clearly served right in front of them, and would choose to remember only the part that they wanted to remember. Prae’s story is an example. Obvious as it is that her past was not her fault-of course, what fault could a ten-year-old child have-what’s peculiar is that at the end of the day, people will skip that and remember only that she used to be a prostitute and end up with the idea that once a prostitute, always a prostitute.”

“As soon as this news is released, the world outside will look at Prae differently. Actually, Prae is a really beautiful girl. There will be a number of lecherous people who want her and a number of incredible enemies.”

“There are those who are envious of her prominence. Pitying a sexually-abused kid is not difficult, but allowing a one-time prostitute to become so well known is unacceptable. Why? Where does this conflict come from?”

“The world we live in is a world of hypocrites. These people will be nice until you start to tease them. As soon as you challenge or offend them, they will step out to ruin you straight away. The enemies I refer to are those society people and activists who organize campaigns or do charity work to help children out of dirty brothels or for women’s rights. These are the people who may turn against Prae. Being humble enough to help others is one thing, but admitting that a one-time prostitute can be superior to them is unacceptable. It offends their self-righteousness.”

“Their reaction can be incredibly severe because an announcement like this hits right at their core, tears away their masks and damages the idea they have strictly adhered to. This is a mistake they can never forgive.”

“And you, Surajit? Having sex with a child prostitute is a crime. Expose the truth and you have one foot in jail.”

“There may be a lot of obvious information presented to show that this is what happened 15 years ago. The Surajit of that time was not the same man today, brave enough to stand by the truth and sacrifice himself because he possesses both fame and honour. Why should he do that? It’s such a delicate act that you should be stunned just by the thought of it. But instead of being impressed, people will choose to remember just that men who have sex with children are perverts.”

“People’s minds are like very rough sieves. What is fine will be sieved off and only the roughest part will be left, and that is,

Prae is a sex worker

                                    Surajit is a sexual pervert

It’s unbelievable that it would end just like this but that’s what will happen. This is a peculiarity of people,” he said slowly and clearly with a powerful voice.

7

The sound of Suwanna’s sigh penetrated the silence.

“I can’t see why Surajit should need to ruin himself. If we need to admit that Prae really used to be a sex worker, we can just say that one of our staff visited the brothel and spotted Prae’s talent fifteen years ago. That would do just fine.”

“I think this incident is more important than just a family matter or business. It’s about something deep inside our humanity. It challenges the meaning of human existence and I need to make everything factual.”

Surajit replied.

The room sank into silence, with only a low purr emanating from the air-conditioner. Surachai looked at his elder brother with amazement. He knew that his brother was honest, but every time he cast off a skin, there always seemed to be another character inside and this went on and on with no end.

Surachai stirred himself and said, “But I still don’t understand. Should Surajit confess the truth? What good will that do anyone?”

Surajit said plainly, “I don’t do this for Prae.”

8

Surajit stood up and walked to the CD player he had previously set up. A moment later, some music came up. He turned up the volume. Now, everyone in the room heard a song they were used to. It was Prae’s song.

Prae’s voice was magical. It had an ability to change the atmosphere and feeling of everyone in the room. Surajit’s expression relaxed. Even Surajet seemed to have a smile at the corner of his lips. Her voice was sweet, melodic and seemed to cheer people up all the time, as if everyone could now look forward to tomorrow.

Five minutes later, he turned off the player and took his seat.

“How’s Prae?” Suwanna asked absent-mindedly. She felt guilty talking all day without asking about the feelings of this girl. When she heard her music, her heart was less tense and she started to miss the girl badly.

“Last night, when I was talking to her, she was crying out of confusion,” Surajit continued. “Actually, she had nearly forgotten everything in her past except when someone really tried to dig it up, as is happening now. I comforted her, saying that what was going on wasn’t her fault and actually, it would be an opportunity for her to do the most important work of her life.”

“I mean, today, my life is meaningless. I’m old and will not live for many more years. As for Prae, not only does she have an angelic voice, but her heart is rare. Where could we find anyone with such a pure heart? She has sung hundreds of beautiful songs and has huge savings. Actually, I am not worried much about Prae because there’s not much to worry about.”

“But today, we are doing something for many other parts of society such as the other children who have been sexually abused and women who make a living in the dark with no future. There are thousands of these people all over the country. It’s they who need a guiding light, a moral support and Prae is the one who’s capable of being an example of success. It’s coincidental, to be sure, but she can represent them.”

“I don’t want to cover this up. On the contrary, I want to reveal everything and even blow it up like a big product advertisement so everyone will know that there’s still hope and light in that desperate life.”

“Prae’s voice can penetrate everywhere, in all nooks and corners, all houses.  We can use the media as a carrier to bring her songs back to the brothels, to massage houses, motels, cheap apartments, and the back seats of cars on lonely roads. Her voice has another dimension to it. It’s more piercing, more subtle and more touching.”

“This is a duty and an opportunity for Prae to do something for her fellow victims. Not many people will have such a chance because we all die sooner or later.”

“Denial will destroy Prae inside because confusion will live with her forever. Although the world outside may believe the lie, she will not be able to deceive herself.”

“Absolute acceptance will empower her in a way that our enemies would never think of. It’s a state of absolute forgiveness. We have to combine our strength and that’s why I called this meeting today.”

At that moment, Surajet’s eyes sparkled. He thought of a huge increase of Prae’s cassettes and CDs sales. However, he couldn’t help asking, “What if we don’t agree?”

“You have the right to remove me from the post of chairman, though I’ll continue to speak the truth in interviews as Mr Surajet Wongtham-anant,” he replied with a smile. He believed all men have different goals. He was clear about what he wanted. At that time, all four siblings were looking at one another in silence.

“I think we’d better leave the decision to Prae. It seems she hardly ever makes any decisions by herself.”

Eventually, it was Surachai who spoke first and Surajit replied plainly, “In fact, she’s on her way.”

At that time, a knock on the door was heard.

up

1 Langsuan School

In the office of the headmistress, Langsuan School.

As the office of the headmistress in a small school in the provinces, Pannee’s room could be considered vast and well-appointed. This is probably because she was keen on finding various little things from different places to decorate the office she’d been using for so long. On a low table was a jar, now filled with fresh roses. On the window there were several bamboo baskets in which orchids were growing. The room contained high quality wooden furniture that displayed its polished beauty to all welcome guests. Now, it was welcoming Rattana, a schoolteacher. She had been with the headmistress the whole morning.

Rattana had turned 33 this year. She was neither beautiful nor ugly. She was tall, thin, and strong with light skin and short hair. The best feature on her face was her eyes. They were sharp and calm. Everyone agreed that she was one of the best teachers in the school, loved and respected by students.

Pannee was a plump woman with face full of smiles. She wore gold-framed glasses. Half of her hair had turned grey. She was now 59 and nearly ready to retire. She was always smiling with good humour. She rarely reprimanded anybody. Some sort of charisma made everyone in the school regard her with great respect.

The conversation this morning began with Pannee holding Rattana’s thin but healthy hand while gently stroking it. She really meant to persuade this stubborn teacher. Pannee hadn’t attempted it before, not knowing how serious the outcome would be. Today, she had to begin with love.

“Rattana, the reason I asked to see you today is Kunghun. Now, he has lost all contests he participates in. It’s not like when he was with you. Back then, he knew only victory, which made him a renowned schoolboy. I would like to ask you to come back as his trainer. Will you please agree to do so?”

At the time, Rattana’s expression showed reluctance while her eyes were filled with pain.

“Headmistress, please. You already understand that I’m too tired to do the job. It should be someone else’s turn.”

“But why? You can do it best. You have had a full year of rest-how can you be tired? Are you still tired today? What’s your problem? Can you please let me know? Actually, I want to know why you quit last year when everything was going so well. Everybody was surprised back then. These days, Kunghan is having a rough time. Don’t forget this boy is highly regarded among all of us and once he was special to you too, wasn’t he? What happened, then?”

Rattana kept silent for a while, and then she began.

“Headmistress, everything started three years ago. During a physical education class one afternoon, I organised a race. There was a Grade 4 boy, tall and thin, with a lovely face, slightly curly hair and beautiful eyes. This student impressed me because he outran other students by so much it was as if he had come from a different world.

I felt my hair stand on end and believed I had found real talent.

Headmistress, I had a dream of becoming a professional sportsperson, but I didn’t make it. I was never particularly good at any kind of sports. I ended up a physical education teacher, yet my dream hadn’t burned out. When I saw Kunghun, my dream returned. My thought then was that I was going to make him the world’s number one sportsman.

Of course, he was only ten years old at that time.

It was strange, headmistress. A week later, when I took the students to swim, I saw that he was faster than everybody else in the water, too. It was strange because the two types of sports are so different. Normally, few sportsmen are capable of both fast running and fast swimming, but for Kunghun didn’t seem to know the limits.”

At this point, Pannee interrupted.

“But why did you have to stop in the middle of his training? Everything was going so well back then.”

“I don’t want to discuss that because it’s personal. However, if I don’t answer, the problem will go on and on. So, I’m going to tell you. It happened one afternoon, Kunghun told me:

                                    ‘You shouldn’t just prefer me over the rest’.

Since then, my feelings have changed.”

            “Rattana, was it just this sentence that changed everything?” a surprised Pannee blurted.

“Yes, ma’am, just that one sentence.”

“How could that be possible? I don’t see any substance in it. He’s just a kid and it might be something he remembered from somewhere and said with no particular reason. He might not even understand what he said.”

“Headmistress, this is not about intention or anger or anything.”

“If that is so, what exactly is it about?”

“I have asked myself the same question many times, also with surprise. I came to a half-formed conclusion that I had done too much. It was like a balloon that had been blown up so large that it would explode from just a slight irritation from a grain of sand. That afternoon, it exploded.

It was not Kunghun’s fault. He was young and that sentence wasn’t at all nonsense. It shook me, made my hair stand as if I had suddenly been pierced by a needle with no prior awareness.

I remembered it had been two years that I had been working insanely. It was too much. I cared more than even his mother did about his progress and I felt I had interfered with their lives unacceptably.

What he said had been true. It was as if I opened my eyes to see the world and what surrounded me once again only to discover that I had for the past two years devoted myself to one student. What about the rest? What had happened to them?”

Pannee objected again. “But a kid like Kunghun is one in a million.”

“That is exactly the point. I used to think so too, but that afternoon I discovered that, in fact, intelligence was not a static state or an unchangeable substance. It’s a relative wave. It’s a subtle issue; it’s about sending and receiving. I felt I had done too much with Kunghun and too little with the other students. When I looked at them, I found out that some of them were quite interesting, Urn, for example.”

“Which Urn? The one in Grade 2? That tearful one?”

“Yes, ma’am, that Urn. She didn’t have Kunghun’s strength but she had some simple skills. I had just noticed she was good at art and was able to slowly improve her, like the accumulation of groundwater that flows slowly and simply, while Kungun was like a wheel of fire.

I’m trying to say that this wave operates on many levels. Each is very different from the others, but all of them require sending and receiving. That is the difficult bit. As a teacher, I admit it’s difficult to help all students get to where they have the potential to be.

I looked around this school and saw something I had never seen before. I have to thank Kunghun for that. He has awakened me.”

Pannee exclaimed, while sighing, “This is more complicated than I had expected. I had never thought it would come this far. However, I’m glad, Rattana. I remembered the first day you came to this school eleven years ago. You were a young and nervous person and I wasn’t even sure you could be a teacher. Now, you’re a very good teacher. I really appreciate that. However, as for Kunghun…”

“Headmistress, I have had this dream since I was a kid, so when I met Kunghun, he was just like my dream come true. That’s why I had such great strength to work with him. But it’s over. There’s no way to take it back. It’s like when my mother died fourteen years ago. You might know that I loved her very much. When she had cancer and was terminally ill, I nearly went mad. I couldn’t take it.

One strange thing that I discovered the night of her passing was that death isn’t as painful or heartbreaking as people think it is. Death is a kind of happiness. Why did I believe that a child should always win and win as long as possible? It’s not possible. Those awards are based on an assumption. Who could know what exactly is best for a child’s life?”

“But, Rattana, those other students and I are just worldly people who need fulfilment. I’m not sure we can be stoic like you. I still want to ask you to coach this child for another six months during which time there’s a race in Malaysia and a swimming contest in South Korea. I still have hope. Will you please do this for our school?”

At this time, Pannee heard a sad laugh from Rattana. “If you insist, I couldn’t possibly refuse. Please understand that I have not cared about this boy less. Who wouldn’t love a child who had been shaped by oneself?”

“Thank you, Rattana. Please don’t be upset at this old woman who is still a common person with expectations.”

The conversation was interrupted by lunch break during which Pennapa and her 13-year-old son, Kunghun, entered Pannee’s office.

Pennapa was a beautiful woman possessed of an attractive face. She had been widowed for many years. What hurt her most was the fact that she couldn’t seem to get on with her son, no matter how much she loved him.

Khunghun was a handsome boy, cute with sharp eyes and slightly curly hair.

2 Kunghun

I walked into the headmistress’s office with my mother.

I have no love for my mother. She’s just another grey shadow, like many others, although she’s the one who has raised and fed me. I’ve never seen a human in colour. Everybody was grey, some in a shade so light that they nearly became white while others were completely black, like my father.

The only exception was Khru Rattana. She was the only human being I saw in colour, just like me.

If I was a blue butterfly, Khru Rattana was a red one. When I met Khru Rattana, I felt it was like one butterfly seeing one of the same species in a different colour while all other living creatures in the world were monochrome.

When I walked into the headmistress’s office this noontime, I saw the fat grey headmistress but Khru Rattana was now a dark brown butterfly. I hadn’t seen her for many months. It seemed as if she had been trying to avoid me.

I knew Khru Rattana could change colours, she’s a chameleon. But her colour had changed dramatically today. It was dark brown, or was she going to turn black? I couldn’t help looking with amazement. A moment ago, when she was talking to the headmistress and my mother, in the blink of an eye when she wasn’t aware, I noticed her transformation. She was like a big butterfly with wings shut and then spread soon afterwards. I saw her wings were made of brown alternating with yellow. There was a bright yellow design which was strangely beautiful. 

I’m not anyone’s doll. Somebody said that today Kunghun--the windmill--doesn’t move because there’s no wind and that wind is Khru Rattana’s dream. That’s not true. My wind is inside me. It’s true that it was discovered by Khru Rattana, but the wind was inside me all along. I knew while I was running that my body was uncommonly light. I have no idea where the lightness is from, but it’s as if I was able to fly like a bird.

When I swim, I can feel my breath is as one with the water. I feel like a fish.

I was trying to mean well that day, I told her:

You shouldn’t just prefer me over the rest.

I noticed she was nervous, worried. I just wanted her to calm down a little bit, but the outcome was the opposite. She lost all interest in me. She didn’t care what I did, lose or win. Or worse, I felt she wanted me to lose. She didn’t say it directly, but I could feel it. There seemed to be some contentment deep in her eyes when I lost.

I pretended to lose for the first time that day. I wanted to see regret, to see anxiety in her eyes. The outcome was the opposite. It was satisfaction that was in her eyes.

I enjoy running, swimming and most active sports, but that doesn’t mean I want to win, or want the trophy or praise. All that is nonsense. Those things belong to the world of the grey people or worse, the black people.

I’d like Khru Rattana to kindly ask me, with just a few words. If she said “Kunghun, I ask you to win the race,” that would be like winning by itself. Nobody else can ask me like her. If she wants me to lose or doesn’t care whether I win or lose, then I’ll lose.

The last thing I will be is a grey human like my mother or the fat headmistress sitting in front of me.

3 Rattana

That afternoon, I remembered my mother telling me,

Somebody please draw the curtain.

Those were her last words. Then she fell into a coma before passing away that night.

I remembered those words because they had been spoken during the afternoon in a brightly-lit room. Nobody shut the curtain, door or window but mother could no longer see anything.

I’m walking in the world looking at the transformation of lightness and darkness and every time the sun sets or rises, I will think of these words. I will hear her voice.

My father died when I was young, like Kunghun. The difference between us was that he never loved his mother, while I loved my mother with all my heart and soul.

When mum died, I was 19. I grieved madly. But when I actually lost her, I dealt with it. I stored all my feelings in those words and that was it.

When I was at university, I dated a man. His name was Theerayut. We had been dating for quite a while. One day, however, he noticed that I in a particularly jolly mood I had been talkative all day. That evening he said,

Why did you talk so much today?

I shivered, knowing that these would be Theerayud’s last words.

My voice was lowered and faded, particularly for him. At last, we broke up. For me, he had been dead since he uttered those words.

There is a brook of words deep inside me. It’s a narrow brook, but whoever crosses it can’t return. They leave forever.

Those who cross this brook need not be dead. They can be alive. That day, Theerayud left to stand near my mother. I could see them from this side of the bank, but couldn’t cross it to join them.

Theerayud might not have loved me that much. He might have forgotten me by now, but I haven’t forgotten him in the same way I can never forget my mother. When I look at bright sunshine, I think of my mother. When I see a transformation of light, I think of her last words. When I walk through noisy places like supermarkets or outdoor markets, I can hear Theerayud’s last words. In fact, I still love him more than ever. I love him as a woman can love a man, but I don’t want to be with him. I cannot live with someone who’s on the other side of the brook of words. Everyone who has crossed to the other side, I love them more than ever.

This brook is eternally long, deep, and narrow.

And one day, Kunghun uttered his last words.

You shouldn’t prefer me over the rest.

That day, he crossed to the other side on his own, to join mother and Theerayud and my two best friends. I was amazed, and of course disappointed, but happy deep down. This is the sweetest kind of refreshment to me.

Along with such fulfilment, there comes loneliness.

I won’t be able to tell anybody. None would understand until they get to see the brook of words with their own eyes.

I do not love Kunghun less. Actually, from the day he spoke those words till today, I love him but I cannot stay with him. I don’t mind a child’s words nor was I feeling disgruntled or angry. But my eyes have seen a different image. My life has entered a different phase.

One last word completes one phase.

He has awakened me. I can see other students at school in a more subtle dimension.

All last words are truths. They’re simpler than proverbs with a lot more larger spacetime. It’s a wholly new thing. A simple internal structure enables it to have a larger spacetime than proverbs. It’s a truth in itself with no need for definition.

These are my last words although nobody else can hear them. There’s a silence inside me, so I cannot cross the brook. I’m the only exception; I’m the one who always stands only on one side of the brook.

One day when all people in this world utter their last words, I’ll be left alone on this side of the brook. We will be parted eternally.

That afternoon, other people saw me walking with Khunghun, but inside, we walked separately on different shores.

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1

Once again, I dreamed of Praew.

I suddenly woke up. Looking outside the window, I found the train had arrived at Nakhon Sawan station.

I dreamed of Praew all night for the past three days. This was unusual because I’d  normally only dream of her once or twice a month. This week, I dreamed of her for three consecutive nights, always the same story and same location, like the same film with new scenes.

I called this part of the dream “the flower on the terrace” scene.

Praew was walking in front of the parade. Between her and me there were five or six people I didn’t know. The parade, itself, looked like a snake crawling on a building terrace. I couldn’t see clearly, but it must have been a very tall building. I sensed its height from the clouds that floated past us.

We all wore swimsuits and swim caps, except Praew. She was wearing a yellow ribbon in her hair.

It was a strange parade because there were people of all ages, male and female.

I could remember clearly that Praew had turned 10 this year. Every time I dreamed of her, she’d be wearing a ribbon which changed its colour depending on the occasion. However, in these last three dreams, she wore only a bright yellow ribbon, a beautiful girl wearing a swim-suit and a ribbon.

What were we doing on this terrace?

In the first dream, I felt really surprised. It was a surreal image with these hundreds of people walking in a circular movement around a terrace. It appeared like a flower petal. I called it “flower on the terrace.” Everybody walked in silence.

After having this dream numerous times, I was used to them. I no longer asked what we were doing there. We walked in a circle as if waiting for something. At the end of the dream, everybody stood on the edge of the deck as if in preparation to jump into water.

I always wake up at the moment we’re on the verge of jumping.

Looking out the window and watching the crowd at the train station, I hoped to relieve myself of some anxiety. I had been unable to sleep last night. A familiar darkness came back to haunt me. This morning, I had caught a train to Chiang Mai after ten years of not travelling by train. I chose the second-class. It was probably my intention to break my routine. I wanted to think and discover how to find an exit from this blocked way. However, I had fallen asleep on the train an hour ago.

When the train moved away from the station and gained speed, I watched people, fields and trees along both sides of the tracks. It was as if one moment they were before me and the next they were replaced by something else. I couldn’t help pressing my hand to my forehead. I’ve done that since I was a child whenever I was about to cry. It worked. I was able to hold back my tears. I rarely cry and I probably would not have embarrassed myself by crying in front of the other passengers.

Although familiar with this dream, I was, on the other hand, scared of it. It’s so unusual. Was it trying to tell me something? Its recurrence might have been due to several sleepless nights from stress. I couldn’t think of a sure reason and so fell into sleep once again.

I didn’t know how much time had passed but the jerking movements of the train woke me up. Feeling parched, I drank two bottles of cold water from a passing vendor.

I thought of my dream again. This time, however, I thought of Jenjira who stood further away in another circle on the terrace. She was quite far from the line where Praew and I were, but I could see her sweet and beautiful face. Whenever she looked in our direction, there would always be a little smile. It’s the smile I was familiar with over ten years ago.

I was puzzled because I had never dreamed of Praew and Jenjira at the same time, although it should have happened long ago. Why did things that never happened before seem to happen at the same time this week? It was this dream that prompted my decision to go to Chiang Mai, to see Jenjira.

I first met Jenjira thirteen years ago when I was twenty-seven, a well-heeled young man. Handsome and rich, I was arrogant and self-centred. Jenjira had recently graduated from university. She was six years younger than me.

It didn’t take a great effort to win her, just like so many other occasions in life when I had enjoyed the opposite sex. However, there was something different from previous experiences.

A day came when I was sick of her and wanted to find someone new. She fell head- over-heels in love with me and complied with all my demands. She gave me no reason to break up with her.

She obediently agreed to be my secret lover and never demanded anything from me. She didn’t care about my money. I found myself unable to leave her.

Three years later, she was pregnant.

I was furious, feeling trapped. I thought this was her plan to bind herself to me because I had told her I had never wanted to have a child. She said it had been an accident but I did not believe her. I’ve never trusted anyone. I felt it was a devious plot hidden behind an innocent face. I gave her an ultimatum-she had to have an abortion.

It was the first time she had protested, reacting with disobedience. However, I told her if she disobeyed me, we’d call it a day.

Jenjira was a beautiful and compliant woman. Because of her love for me, she eventually agreed to have an abortion.

After the operation, we gradually drifted apart. This might have been because whenever we met, there was a pang of regret, some guilt deep down inside her. As for me, I had thought I felt nothing. However, I had to admit there was something changing inside me. It happened gradually.

One day three years ago, I dreamed of Praew for the first time.

2

I have never forgotten that first dream. I was walking in a deserted department store. Amid the silence, I saw a long-haired girl, wearing a bright red ribbon running in the distance. When she finally arrived in front of me, she stopped and stared at my face. She had lovely an apple-shaped face with big round eyes. She smiled a little, showing her tiny teeth.

I had never seen her before but I felt a familiarity. Looking at her, I thought she might be around three years old.

“What’s you name, little girl? Where were you from?’’

Normally, I don’t like kids. However, at that time in my dream I warmed to this girl. She only stared at me. There was a bag of sweets in her hand. From the glow in her eyes, I understood that she was trying to tell me something. Surprisingly, I felt shaken. I had no idea what devil made me reach my hands out, hoping to give her a hug. Before my hands got to her, I woke up.

She has frequented my dreams since then. I knew that whenever I tried to reach out for her in my dream, she would disappear. Instead, I talked to her without touching. However, she never talked to me.

I began to realise she was the child I had killed three years ago.

From the day she began to visit my dreams, I could feel myself changing.  I started to feel guilt. Looking back, I couldn’t understand how I could have done what I did. Now, I wanted to have a child.

Eventually, I decided to call her Praew.

One night, I was with Jenjira in my private riverside condominium. After dinner, we were talking on the balcony while looking at the lights from passing river crafts. That evening, we had been particularly sweet to each other. In the evening, I had a significant thing to tell her.

I had been seeing Jenjira for six years. Although we had not been very close lately, we were still together. During that time, we sometimes met only once a month, probably due to her busy schedule or the distance between Chiang Mai and Bangkok. I noticed  she was beginning to be more mature.

I had thought how happy she would be if I asked her to marry me. I had meant to keep my plan a secret. Jenjira was much less well-off than me and her family was socially inferior to mine. However, since I began to dream of Praew’s existence, I had become softer and accepted her with no fear that my relatives might loathe her.

The last time Praew came into my dreams, I asked, “Praew, my girl, you want to be born again, don’t you? Won’t you come back and be my and mummy’s baby again, please? I’d love and take the best care of you this time. This time, daddy and mummy won’t let you go again.’’

From that dream, I began to love my little girl more strongly and was looking forward to the day I’d see her. I had planned the wedding many months before I told Jenjira. I wanted to surprise her.

That night, standing on the balcony, we gently and warmly kissed as in the early days of our relationship. And that night, she was as pleasant to me as ever.

“Wasant”, she whispered, “there’s something I want to talk to you about.’’

“Really? I have something I want to tell to you, too. You go first,’’ I replied gently.

My heart was so full of happiness. There had been something in her that I had overlooked but which I was able to see clearly that night. This was the woman who made me feel warm. Why did I have to wait until I saw Praew to realise this?

“I’ll be twenty-seven this year. I want to get married’’, she said softly.

There was something in her voice, in her disposition that revealed nervousness. I was about to burst out laughing. I had never expected she would talk to me about the same thing with which I wanted to surprise her. I tried to keep myself from laughing. There was only a smile on at the corner of my lips.

“Good, Jen, I agree,’’ I replied with a smile. She was clearly taken aback. In the darkness, I could feel there was shock in her face. She moved back a little.

“I thought you would disagree,’’ she said with a trembling voice.

At that time, I started to laugh, unable to control myself any longer.

“Why would you think that, Jen? Do you believe it’s the same thing I wanted to talk to you about? I’m thirty-three this year, that’s not young.’’

I couldn’t help being surprised she didn’t seem happy.

“But I wanted to have a baby,’’ she replied sadly.

“Go on. Who told you I didn’t want a baby?’’ At that time, my voice was still gentle and full of happiness.

“But it’s too late, Wasant. I’m seeing someone else.’’

“What do you mean?’’

Jenjira seemed to be scared at the change in my voice. She’d long been scared of me.

“I’ve been seeing another man for a year and believe he will be my good spouse. I intended to say good-bye this evening. From now on, let us just be friends please.’’

My heart beat intensely, in both surprise and anger.

“Are you mad, Jen?’’

My reaction might have caused her to fear I was going to attack her, she hurriedly told me.

“Please don’t attack me Wasant. I’m three-months pregnant by him.’’ These words softened my heart.

“During the past three years, I have been regretting what I had done and realised I definitely wanted to have a baby. That’s why I…’’

She was trying to explain, but her voice faded to a distant murmur. I only heard some fragments and barely remembered what she said.

3

Suddenly, Jenjira was out of my life.

She married another man and they had a son together. I didn’t want to hurt this woman anymore, so I let her go. It’s strange that from then on, all the women that have come into my life seem meaningless. I gradually realised that I loved Jenjira.

I could be with other women only for a short while before getting bored. I missed the warmth of being with her.

It was during that time I began to dream of Praew. This dream girl grew with time as if she had a life of her own. From a three-year-old, she gradually grew up but still never talked to me. In my dreams, we often met in different places. She came to stare at me as if in wonder or with curiosity, and I was the one who talked to her while she was only a listener.

Now I knew I wanted to have a baby and I wanted this girl to be that baby. I loved her more and more and I eventually began waking up from my dreams in a full sweat. I wanted all that I had thrown away. But where else could I find them?

Who would believe I tried to make up with Jenjira?

But I did. I called her. Sometimes, I travelled to Chiang Mai to meet her, and she came to meet me for all our appointments without ever trying to avoid them. It’s probably because she knew my personality. There’s something in me that shouldn’t be challenged. There’s a huge pitch-dark character in me that, although I’d never told her of it, she could feel.

Avoiding me would only be an invitation for me to appear at her door.

She often arranged for an appointment in a public place like a restaurant or hotel lobby. She often brought along Parn, her only son, as if trying to remind me that she now had a duty to her own family, and that I shouldn’t destroy it.

I always brought a lot of toys, to give as presents to Parn.

I knew the only way to win her back was by using goodness to capture her heart. I started to think about what she liked with an intensity of interest that I had never had before. I would choose presents she liked and be attentive to some little details about her. I tried to please her now more than I did the first time I knew her.

Jenjira was 34 this year. She happened to be more beautiful. Before, there was some delicacy, some foolishness to her that I didn’t quite like. Now, sweet and gentle as she was, there was an incredible strength inside. It was probably life experience and maturity that brought about the difference.

One day in a hotel lobby, I told her about Praew for the first time. Parn wasn’t with her. She listened with attention. At the end, I said,

“Jen, I regret what I have done. Now, I want to have a baby. Our baby has often come into my dreams. She wants to come back and she doesn’t want any new mother. Please come back to me, Jen.’’

“Wasant, the story you told me is very interesting, but that child probably isn’t ours. Our baby may have gone on with a new life much long ago because she has never come to my dreams.

Wasant, you are obsessed with this. We both made a mistake because we were too young. Please let us both begin our new lives apart. You’re good-looking, rich, and capable. I’m sure you can have your own family.’’

“But I love you, Jen. I love you more and more every passing day and I believe you love me too. Forgive me, Jen. Please don’t hold any grudge against me anymore.’’

I heard her laugh sadly.

For the past several years, my life has turned around the same circle. However, it has always come back to the same point. It might be my karma, but why was my life so heartbreaking, I kept asking myself.

I was at a disadvantage before her sad eyes.

4

I suddenly woke up once again when the train stopped at Pitsanulok. This time, I had fallen asleep for about 10 minutes and had a vague dream I couldn’t remember. I was exhausted as the trip was taking so long.

I bought two more bottles of water. I was sweating all over.  I always felt trapped by this kind of terrible outcome whenever I had made a wrong decision. I chose the train instead of a plane because I wanted to spend time thinking about something. I happened to choose second class, with no air-conditioning, on such a hot afternoon. Everything seemed to go wrong.

I was half-awake, saddened, and constantly thirsty.

All my close friends had been surprised. I was known as a wild party boy who often went clubbing with them. Then, I never went out with anybody again. I quit drinking, smoking, and headed home right after work without stopping anywhere else, and went to bed early.

That I went to bed early made some of my friends suspect I woke up later in the evening to night-crawl on my own as I did when I was a teenager. But they were wrong. If I woke up in the middle of the night, I would only sit silently on my own in my room and listen to light music.

Sometimes, I was even too lazy to listen to music. I would sit silently on a couch and muse over something in the dark.

My close friends had no idea how much I loved Jenjira now and they knew nothing about Praew. Unusually, I became a quiet person and good at keeping secrets.

During my teenage years, I loved girls and high-speed driving. Sometimes, I would race a motorcycle on a desolate road without ever thinking of the possible danger.

I thought of my childhood. When I was seven or eight, I loved to torture animals.

Now, I couldn’t understand why I did that.

I had become a completely different man. I was quiet and reserved. There were many times I drove out to the countryside on my own with lots of sweets and toys in my car to give to an impoverished school or orphanage. Sometimes, I bought birds or fish and released them in the woods or river.

Seven years had passed and Praew turned ten years old.

5

Two days ago, I first dreamed of Praew and the “flower on the terrace” scene.

Early in the evening of last night, I dreamed of Praew and the same scene for the second time.

I woke up in the middle of the night. I couldn’t stand it. I called Jenjira.

“Jen, I need a favour.’’

“What is it, Wasant?’’, she questioned.

“I accept your decision and will not force you as to where and with whom you will be, but please have a baby with me, Jen. It could be a boy or a girl and I’ll love and take the best care of my child.’’

“Wasant, what you’re asking for is not a thing. It’s a life. How am I supposed to give you that?”

“You can, if you want to.’’

“If I have a baby with you, I’ll love that baby for sure. I can’t give in to you.’’

Her voice was sad but I was burning with such desire that I felt as if my chest would explode.

“Jen, if you want to keep our baby, I’ll let you. Just let me stay with the child sometime during the year and I’ll be happy. I ask only for some opportunity to bring the baby up.’’

She fell silent as if making a decision. I anxiously waited for her answer. It’s incredible that I ended up in this situation.

I couldn’t remember how many times I had become so furious on the couch that I wanted to put an end to this matter, using cruel means as I had done before. However, I was gentle, knowing that it’s not the way that would get me to Praew. This would only drive her further away.

I could hear Jenjira crying.

“Wasant, you nearly made me give in but I can’t do it.’’

She hung up and I was left with my eyes wide open in the dark for the rest of the night.

Early in the morning, I caught a train to Chiang Mai hoping to come up with something new on the way, what to do in order to meet Praew without hurting anybody.

Suddenly, I noticed a girl walking past me. She was wearing a reddish yellow-coloured skirt with a small pocket at the waist, but most importantly, she’s wearing a bright yellow bow.

I trembled. Praew was on this train and she had just walked past me. I hurriedly stood up and ran to grasp her wrist.

She turned to me and her face was no different from Praew’s.

“Praew, my dear Praew.’’ I cried.

This was not a dream. In the dreams, I could never touch her.

Her big round eyes showed a surprised and frightened look as if she didn’t know me. I did not notice a dark man who was walking behind her. Now, he pulled my hand away.

“Are you mad? This is my daughter.’’ he roared at me.

“Ah…I’m sorry. I mistook her for another person.’’

My body trembled, I felt pain all over. I staggered back to my seat.

The train kept running in the same direction. In the compartment, some passengers looked at me with disquiet. That girl and the man walked past my compartment towards the north side.

I felt as if my body and brain were chilled. I might have had a fever. I felt cold, I sweated, and I heard a whirring sound in my ears. I had a stomach-ache like my bowels were twisted.

Suddenly, I remembered where I had seen that big man. Actually, he was also in my “flower on the terrace” scene dream. He was in front of me, but I had never noticed.

The train arrived at a bend. I poked my head out of the window looking further forward. I wasn’t surprised to see a southbound train coming quickly toward us on the same track.

I looked around with sadness. Nobody realised there’d be a big accident in a few seconds.

With such pity, I felt surprisingly calm.  The huge weight I had been carrying on my shoulders was about to be released. I felt inexpressibly relaxed.

I knew Jenjira was on that southbound train.

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1 Charnchai 1958

An adage from days of old states that the twenty-fifth year of a person’s life will bring misfortune. This probably proved to be true. When Apichit and I turned twenty five years old, we were filled with unusual ambivalence and anxiety.  Prior to that, I had been a calm and sedate person contented with what I had and easily enjoyed life like in the simple ways that a child did. This twenty-fifth year, I was filled with the desire to try out new endeavours in a way I had never wished before.

It was like I had reached the crossroads in my life and I was now faced with the task of deciding which path I would take. Unfortunately it seemed that the path I had chosen had been the worst because it turned out that danger was so tantalising. Rawness seemed strangely appealing. These were the perils of our salad years. Even though Apichit and I were quite different in terms of character, yet that same sense of anxiety had taken over both of us in very much the same way. We both were preoccupied with the same struggles of finding our place in this world.

But why the twenty-fifth year? Why hadn’t it happened before or after? I cannot be certain. It could just have been a coincidence for us both. It’s like our knowledge had reached its satiation point and we had come as far as we could have ever imagined.

I didn’t go on to further my education after high school while Apichit, though attending a university, never graduated. We spent out lives watching films, going to the theatre, listening to music or hanging out at some friend’s house or other. On some nights, we would take a stroll that would keep us out until daybreak.

To most people, we were but a pair of aimless, good for nothing guys.  However, we couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and dignity.  We were proud of our quest to discover what really belonged to us.  Yet, we were feeling overcome by boredom and could see no future for ourselves because we had been doing this for so many years and were now beginning to feel confused.

We’d had been the best of friends since our school days and had spent time in the company of each other day after day.

We never ran out of things to talk about and could walk about aimlessly along the roads, in and out of alleys and lanes revealing our dreams to each other, whatever came to our minds. We could watch the same film and view things so differently, as if they were two entirely different films. Sometimes, we’d play cards at other friends’ houses. Sometimes, we went gallivanting, picking up hookers or smoking pot. What we found most memorable, however, were the walks we took together all the way until dawn. It was probably our youth that provided us with the vigour to keep walking all night long.

We felt contented and it seemed that the world was already complete with just the two of us. This world of ours was divided into two realms, one half was his and the other, mine. We often discovered incredible things about each other. In each passing day, we each served as a critic for the other, even for the most trivial or insignificant matter. Then we laughed at our own idiosyncrasies.  All that seemed to have come to an end that year. We started to run out of topics to talk about. We seemed to know the tricks that the other person was up to all too well.

In fact, we had begun to be bored with our own lives. If some change hadn’t taken place, we probably would have taken our own lives.

That day, we had been strolling along since the morning. Our walk took us past  Amporn Gardens, along Dusit Zoo, around the Grand Palace stopping by to sit down and relax in the Marble Temple and other things. It was in the afternoon that we heard a loud noise. We realized it was coming from the Nang-Lerng Horseracing Stadium. Actually, we had passed the stadium several times before, seeing hordes of people headed to gamble on horses but we had never taken any interest. That afternoon, however, I changed my mind.

“Chit, lets try betting on a horse.’’

The idea came to my mind.

“No, why should we mess around with it?’’

He disagreed. At that particular moment we were leaning on the temple’s wall.

“There shouldn’t be any problem. None of us have ever bet on horses before. It seems like fun, a whole new experience for us. We both have tried many several things before so why not what is right in front of us now?’’

“There are so many other things we’ve never tried before so why this?’’

He continued to show his opposition. I turned to look at him with amazement.

“How strange! Why would you object to it? We’ve done so many things together haven’t we?  How can horse gambling should be worse than anything else? We used to play cards, visiting prostitutes and many many more. I wonder why you are hesitant.’’

I frowned with displeasure. It was another boring afternoon. We had been strolling around there so many times before. It was only this temple that we felt welcomed and could lie down in an idle manner to while away the time on so many occasions. He fell silent, as if he were questioning himself only to discover that there were no answers.

That afternoon was the first time we went to the racecourse.

After the races were over that evening, we walked home taking the route along Petchaburi road. We agreed it had been another enjoyable day because we got to experience something we had never tried before although we did not understand how it was that this game could lure hundreds of thousands of men. We talked about it and tried to analyse our experiences. Back then, we both believed we’d never return to the place.

How wrong could we have been?  From then on we became regulars.

At first, we placed our bets together. Not long after that day, however, we started placing our bets separately and left separately. On some occasions we would only run into each other and exchange a couple of words. Sometimes I saw him but pretended I didn’t. He might have done the same.

Back then, I had no worries. We had had enough of each other’s company so spending some time apart probably wouldn’t hurt. 

At that time, we both had less to talk about to each other as if we were each in our own battlefield and had so much to do that we had forgotten the existence of the other person.

I liked to bet forecast whereas he took to betting on the winner.

To bet forecast was to bet for the first and the runner-up, they were my preference because I was interested in the question of relativity. I felt a sense of mystery, an air of sentimentalism and romance whereas my friend was only interested in ultimate decisiveness. While he said he couldn’t imagine the way of the double bet, I was instead infatuated by it.

I was interested in a statement that

                                    From two impossibilities

                                    Make one possibility.

I was so taken by this particular idea. I decided to start my pursuit of it by following the trails of two horses. It was childish, an innocent fantasy that gradually expanded into a dream which was much larger than an entire horse-racing stadium could accommodate.

2 Apichit 1958

Charnchai once told me that human-beings shouldn’t live beyond the age of thirty. He thought life after that would become meaningless and boring. If this were the case then we would only have had 5 years left.

I didn’t believe that. It was all about Charnchai and his silly, childish behaviour. I  didn’t believe that time should have any limits. We lived as long as we lived, and that could even mean forever.

Most people forsook this quality of time. They had a certain schedule for time, at school or at work.

Charnchai and I had been so close since our first year in secondary school. He was the leader and I was the follower. I followed him into the horseracing stadium because I couldn’t find any reason to object. With no reasons not to come in, I walked in.

We both were the best of buddies and had we been man and woman, we would have got married.  As it turned out, we both were male and neither of us was gay so we only ended up having meals, hanging out, sharing our beds together. There were countless times that we talked all the way until the morning.

Our paths drifted apart little by little but we both seemed to be undergoing the same experience, we had nowhere to go. Charnchai was a manly guy but why did he like to bet for forecast? That was my first wonder. It was a girl’s style, it’s an illusion.

Should you bet, you should only bet for one horse, the one winning horse. It’s not as much about the amount of the payment as the decisiveness of the mind.

But we always disagreed and that was the strange appeal of our friendship. He made me see and understand many other things. However, being in the horseracing stadium was like being in the ocean. There are waves and storms and we seemed to be blown in different directions in no time.

When I entered the stadium with a question of how different horse gambling was from cards and other forms of gambling, I discovered that the difference lies in the number of people. I had played cards with a couple of friends but there were tens of thousands of people in the stadium. I was amazed by their fantasy.

I could hear the sound of their dreams, could see their dreams. I was always excited and alert whenever I was walking in the stadium.

The screams, the shouts and the chaotic run, and the determined observation of the ticket price until the last minute, the change of view point from one spot to another within the stadium, whether from one wing to the other or right to left. I was like a sentinel walking from one floor to another, up and down. It’s as if this stadium was a lonely lighthouse in a vast, empty universe. Sometimes, I walked into a dark floor, sometimes a bright floor, sometimes on the basement and sometimes the top floor. I had no fixed spot.

The screams and salvos in the stadium might actually be similar to what I heard in the boxing stadium Charnchai and I used to go in. But it’s different, probably because I couldn’t stand men fighting each other. I could feel the pain of the boxers. These were something that continued to bother me. 

There’s pain in the horseracing stadium, too. I have seen horses collapse and die before my eyes. That made me feel so depressed. However, the vastness, the diversity of the place helped me to forget the cruelty.

Since the time when I was young, there have been several questions coming to my mind that render me speechless with no answers. That was until the day I entered the stadium. One day, I ran into a huge mysterious black square plate that blocked my way.

3 Charnchai 2003

This was the first day I returned to the horseracing stadium after a 45-year absence. Back then, I was a twenty five-year-old man but now I was a 70-year-old man.

I only meant to stroll around Pathumwan area and stumbled onto the fact that it was horse-racing day. I happened to be passing the fence of the compound, peering in at images that were once so familiar. Back then, my obsession with horse-gambling had lasted for practically a whole year. My energy then was limitless, I was in my youth. My innocence was at its prime.

I had never forgotten that, and it was something that filled me with wonder whenever I recalled it.

It had been for so many years since I heard anything of Apichit, starting from the time I went to England.

For the first few years, we still kept up a correspondence. However, he moved away from his old place after his father passed away while in England I also moved to a new place, too. Eventually with a lack of attention, we lost touch with each other. I didn’t even know whether he was still alive. Walking past the stadium, I couldn’t help thinking of him.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Apichit standing in front of the gate, flipping through pages of a horserace forecast magazine. He had aged a lot, with all his hair gone grey. He looked like he had lost weight but he still wore glasses, but I could recognise him right away from his slouched posture while standing, his gestures while flipping through the page with his fingers and a faint smile on his lips.

“Chit, is that you?’’

I exclaimed while walking towards him. He glanced at me with an air of surprise, though only for one brief moment. He did recognise me.

I had planned on inviting him to lunch somewhere but instead it was he who invited me for a meal in the stadium. I agreed because I looked forward to reliving some of our old memories there. We chatted for an hour before going each our own way to place our bets, just like in old times.

He didn’t seem surprised, neither glad nor sad that all of a sudden I had run into him. We were no longer the closest friends we were before, nor had we become strangers.

On this day I felt that my horse-gambling days were over and was contented simply to look around. Even if I were made to place a bet for a baht, I had no idea what to bet on. There was absolutely no fun left for me in that exercise. 

Who would ever believe he would still be engaged in this activity for the past forty-five years. He was saying jokingly that God created the world in six days and rested for one day while for him he rested for six days and worked on the remaining day. That one day was the horse-racing day. Although it was said in jest, I must admit that I was taken aback. Those six days he spent idly doing nothing but wait for the horse racing day echoed in my mind. When I first caught a glimpse of him, all I wanted was to embrace him and cry.

That was all because I was the one who had persuaded him to start betting. I was into it for merely a year while he continued for forty-five consecutive years, and would do so until the day he died. I felt demoralised, blaming myself that it was all my fault.

He had aged tremendously. Not in very good health, he had remained single, without any achievement whatsoever in the world. All his relatives had abandoned him. However, his comments were still astute, judging from the way he carried on the conversation. His thoughts were still lucid and appeared as composed and subtle as before. I wasn’t really able to assess him because he could betray at once both shallowness and depth. He could be both a yes and a no.

I was never reckless in my lifetime. I was never going to underestimate him because one could never expect what would be the consequence. I would just remain calm and wait patiently like an old soldier who was cautious with each single step he took when treading onto the battlefield even when there seemed to be no evident traces of danger.

I was upset because that was my commonness, like the love, hate, hesitation, and fear that were in me. Of course, I never feared to fear, or to love, this was my ultimate beauty. I existed in this world with consciousness and vividly aware of my feelings and concerns.

In fact, he was the one who had chosen his own course of life. It was too long ago to decide what was right and wrong or dictate to him to choose another path. He would listen to no-one. No words could possibly reach him because he had been so obstinate in his younger days. Today, he was far more stubborn than before and even if you told him to leave, he would know of nowhere else to go.

He had never been rich and he remained just so today, with no occupation. He only had a small inheritance from his father but he was living in much the same way today. He probably hadn’t lost it all and might possibly have won on some occasions, at least enough to sustain his life. His life was too deeply rooted in the race course. I could feel that his roots had penetrated so deeply into the place although they weren’t visible to me. 

As for me, I hadn’t entirely given up on the practice of horse-betting, only expanding the course into infinity until the edges were no longer visible.  I was the original player, and I had never forgotten this.

I remembered when I had engaged in horse gambling for an entire year, I decided to expand the course of my double bet to the larger world. I made a complete transformation of myself from black to white. I went to study physics in England. I found that the two crucial elements in this universe, which are time and space, are actually just one thing.

Here is the first forecast.

                                                1. Time

                                                2. Space

It’s a subtle, endless pair that darts gracefully into the vast race course that stretches far beyond the human imagination.

I chose to study physics because I came up with the second forecast.

                                                1. Art

                                                2. Science

In them, I could perceive a sense of unity, a frightening mix in terms of depth. Only this pair could be breathtakingly beautiful.

I chose the third forecast.

                                                1. Private life

                                                2. Social life

I could see both galloping side by side into one spacetime. It was the most complicated matter in my life--trying to unify both elements.

I married Alison. It happened on the day I turned thirty-three. We were residing with the same host family during the time I returned to study A Level before entering university in England. She was a violinist, prim and proper, rather shy -- a country girl from one of the hills on the coast of Dorset.

We spent most of our time in England. My current occupation is teaching physics in a university. Alison is sensitive to heat so she rarely came to Thailand on visits, and neither did I.

We had a son and a daughter, Robert and Helen. Robert had a Thai name of Porames while Helen was called Patama. Robert is married to a French woman while Helen is with an Italian. Our family became more and more like a network of rivers intertwined and diversifying into smaller waterway.

Robert has three daughters while Helen has only one son.

I went into the horseracing stadium, inspecting each floor and each corner one by one, and suddenly I had walked into the past.

I was walking in the year 1958, alongside my own self in that same year, when he bet on each pair of horses. I was walking by his side but could not intervene. Even though I could, I wouldn’t do so because everything had already gone to decay.

I was only walking by the side of it.

4. Apichit 2003

What was in front of me was a black square plate that covered the whole spacetime. I was stunned.

This is probably what we call the Ten Commandments.

                                    Events and I are not relevant.

                                    Observers and events are not relevant.

                                    Doers and events are not relevant.

                                    Listeners and events are not relevant.

                                    Givers and what is given are not relevant.

                                    Recipients and what is received are not relevant.

                                    What is said is commandment.

                                    What is thought is commandment.

                                    Today is the last day of man.

                                    Man is the last day of every universe.

Man couldn’t survive unless we solved the riddle of the large black square plate in front of us, or we would end up victims who would be hunted mercilessly. At the end, we would enjoy being hunted, enjoy being the victim.

Today I met Charnchai after over forty years. I used to be amazed by Charnchai but this black square plate was far more subtle than him. Nowadays, I didn’t want to talk to him because I had nothing to say.

Before, when I ran into him in the stadium, I used to think there would be only two horses left in the end, which were

                                    1. Charnchai

                                    2. Apichit

These two horses could be bet on at any gambler’s will. Both ran non-stop until they died amid silence.

He bet in a feminine way while I bet in a masculine way but after a while, he became a man and I became a woman.

I noticed he lived a man’s life while I lived a woman’s life. It began with what was said in the old time that women craved domesticity and wanted to stay home while men wanted to wander far away from home. He travelled so far while I never wanted to go further away from home. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I was content within this short perimeter. I heard that women prefer small spaces and men prefer larger spaces. Charnchai’s space was incredibly wide while mine was limited within this stadium.

He was strange. He was successful. He had done various several things, had children and grandchildren but at the end, he had such unsurpassed silence.

He was stronger than vampires.

He was seventy this year but was still as fit and healthy as a man in his fifties. He played sports. Actually you could say he was stronger than when he was in his younger days. It was strange how he could get along with other people in the world. The world didn’t know him the way I did. If they knew half of what I knew of him, they shouldn’t have been with him. He had a frightening hollowness inside. It was the kind of emptiness that not many people could withstand.

I, on the contrary, was quite calm inside. I was as placid as a glass and I was gradually transforming into that mysterious black square plate.

There’s not much to talk about my physical condition. It was turning into a rotting boat due to my slothful existence.

I had aged a lot, and was weaker. I had watery eyes so there was this annoying tearing. Not only was I near-sighted, I also had farsightedness. I couldn’t walk far or stand for long. I couldn’t read much due to the pain in my eyes. Even the horse-racing programme was read with extreme difficulty.

From the surface, it seemed I bet on the winning horse, but it wasn’t the winning horse. It seemed like it but it was not. Winning the bet meant nothing to me, like my family life, fame, money and everything people in the world were striving for. They all were meaningless to me.

Standing in front of this one large mysterious black square plate, life came to an end.

That’s why I was looking for the fifty-first ticket counter among all these fifty ticket counters. I had to find it within thirty minutes and had to put on one bet. It was a highly peculiar search because the fifty-first counter couldn’t stand alone. It had to be disguised in one of those fifty counters.

Out of one hundred race horses, I wanted to find the one hundred and first horse. That was my difficulty.

Those six days I had to pause and wait were the weightiest spacetime. It was an odd rest. It was heavy, still and silent.

It’s all, however, due to the fact that doers and events are not relevant.

It was Charnchai who was still in the game. I had quit long before, some forty-five years ago. It’s all like a sham novel because it’s apparent that I was betting and he had quit betting.

Why does it have to be so silent on this universe?

up

1

If Nipat were to come home now, he’d be surprised to see me lying down looking like this.

I am wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a grey T-shirt lazing around on his bamboo bed as if in the comfort of my own home.

Gazing at the bright shining sky this afternoon and the mountains ahead, I couldn’t help complimenting him on how smart he was to find a house like this. He said the mornings and evenings here offered a view of thick fog in the valleys while the full moon would bathe everything in the soft moonlight. From this cliff, the moon felt extraordinarily large, like a lantern moving up and down that you could really reach for.

I began my journey even before daybreak for fear that I couldn’t find his house. Actually, it was just my anxiety because it’s not at all difficult to find with the help of the map attached with his letter. A short while after noon, I arrived at his place. It’s easy to find because it is quite unique and outstanding, and visible even from a great distance away. It was a shallow conclave into the cliff, facing the valley. It’s just that getting here took me several hours through quite a circuitous walk. Viewing it from below, it seemed there was no way anyone could get up here.

That I had spent my entire life, up until my fiftieth year, in the city, made the journey even more exhausting. As soon as I arrived, I changed and lay sprawled out on his bed. Closed as my eyes were, I wasn’t able to sleep. I was filled with excitement at the thought of reuniting with an old friend I hadn’t seen for twenty-five years.

The thought of the long twenty-five years that transpired was hard for me to reckon with.  It was so long that I once believed our paths would never again cross.  From those days of youth, I was now approaching old age.

He had disappeared from our circle of friends ever since he had suffered from a broken heart. We all knew he was sensitive, emotional and capable of hate and love in extremes and intensity. With no-one having ever heard from him, some of us came to the conclusion that he had probably killed himself somewhere. I knew he had run away from home but had no idea where to. After a while, I also believed he was dead.

Whenever I thought of him, it was with some pain involved.  Not simply because we had been close, but because we had been for two years in love with the same woman and both of us ended up disappointed. Unconsciously, we’d both drifted apart.

I didn’t take very long getting over my heartbreak, probably due to my own disposition. I got over it in a relatively short time and moved on in search of someone new. He, on the other hand, completely disappeared. It wasn’t my fault. And yet I feel a sense of regret now for falling in love with the woman my own friend was in love with. I should have given way, offered him counsel, giving him moral support. Although that wouldn’t have enabled him to win her, he would at least have had someone by his side at a time when he was down and despondent.

Back then, we each went our own separate ways, each one of us intent on healing our own wounds. On that day, there was nothing I could do to help him. I ran away to seek shelter, but he ran much further than I did.

When I entered his home, his cave actually, I saw no-one. Looking around, I was convinced that this was the house he had mentioned in the letter. However, just to make sure, I walked around the place. I saw a simple room with only the bare necessities, a pile of books and another item that really moved me--a group picture of all seven of us when we were Freshmen. In it, I saw Praderm, Chakkrit, Anek, Nukul, Woranut, Nipat and myself. We were the closest buddies during university years, together everywhere for four whole years.

The boyish looking girl in the picture was Woranut, the only female member of the gang. I hadn’t seen her for many years. I only heard that she was divorced from her husband.

In this room with hardly anything in it, he had a picture of us. It meant that actually he was always thinking of us. But why had he never tried to get in touch with any of us?

Today, all the six of us were legal officers pursuing a career based on the knowledge we had acquired; three lawyers, two attorneys and one judge while he had turned into a mountain dweller.

When I received this letter inviting me to visit him all the way on a high mountain in a remote province in Laos, I was filled both with delight and surprise. I was overjoyed he was still alive and surprised as to he had made contact with me. It seemed that the idea had come to him all of a sudden.

The letter didn’t mention spouse or children and upon entering his pad, it was clear that he was here on his own, just like when he was a student. Now, at fifty it looked like he had chosen a single life.

Or could it be that he had never forgotten Preeya after all these years?

This woman had inflicted such pain on both of us. She had actually broken several hearts.  Beautiful, intelligent and highly temperamental, that was what many men found enchanting, including the two of us.

I now have a family of my own – a wife who loves me and two children both of whom have graduated. I had almost forgotten Preeya. Today, I thought of her with youthful amusement. Falling in love with someone made those days memorable, however, it’s probably that when it comes to the affairs of the heart each of us is affected to a different extent. Some take their own lives because of love and some, to a different extent, emerge out with a different course of life, as in Nipat’s case.

What a shame it was, I thought. He was the smartest and the cleverest in our group. Why did this have to happen? I was lying with these thoughts in my head, and couldn’t get myself to fall asleep.

Looking back to the time two weeks ago when I had received his letter inviting me here, I put aside all the work I had and rushed here with longing and curiosity. One question that had been lingering in my mind would finally be answered.

2

I had no idea how long I had been sleeping but when I opened my eyes again it was Nipat’s face that I saw.

It was twilight with only the remaining traces of the day visible in the sky. The way he stood by the bed, with a huge pile of firewood on his back, meant he had just returned the moment I woke up. I jumped to my feet.

He put down the firewood and walked over to grab my hands while bursting into joyous laughter.

“What’s this? Prapan, sleeping soundly as if you were in your own home.’’

He had aged a lot, but that was only because I still had an image of his youthful self in my mind. He was now fifty but his robust physique, his voice and the firm hands that were holding mine told me that he was in excellent health. However, the most important thing was his exuberance--this relieved me of all my anxieties. It was my silly assumption. He might have managed to completely erase all the past even better than I did.

“Bloody Pat, you’re terrible, disappearing like you did for so long we all thought you were dead.’’

There I was cursing him. Crude as my words were, but emotionally I was so overwhelmed I could have broken down and cried. I reached out to embrace him.

“I could hardly believe my eyes when I received your letter.’’

Both of us sat down on a rock in front of the cave. I asked him.

“Why didn’t you write earlier? Have you been living here on this mountain for all these past twenty-five years?’’

“You could say so. Indeed I’ve been on this mountain for twenty-five years but in this house for only ten.’’

He told his story to me humorously. He said you could hear the sound of the wind when sleeping, particularly during night and early in the morning, it sounded like the sound of the waves at sea.

“Initially, I had actually lived further down while gradually learning to appreciate the simple, rustic life. Up until now, it feels like I have been promoted to higher grade, to live up here. It’s been a struggle, but every bit worthwhile.’’

“And why haven’t you kept contact with any of us? Don’t you know that we’ve all been anxious? There’ve only been rumours about you, most of which are not pleasant.’’

His face only betrayed a placid look. 

“I don’t know, Prapan. I’m here feeling as if all those twenty-five years flew by in a wink of an eye, it’s now all a blur to me. Up here, I live my life at peace with myself. Honestly, I feel like it’s only been a couple of days.’’

I gasped, and both of us broke out in laughter.  It was probably due to the fact that I had taken a long nap so my body felt strangely invigorated despite such of the initial exhaustion I felt upon arriving here after the steep hike. I was feeling much better now.

“Is it all due to Preeya that you were drained entirely of all your interest in any other woman in the world? It was because of her that you escaped here, right?’’

“Yes, I came here because of her. Back then, I had lost all hope in life and wanted to go away as far as I could. I didn’t care where I’d die although deep down I knew I wanted to commune closer with nature. I was in search of a peaceful refuge on a high mountain. I didn’t know how I ended up here.’’

“During the first year, I was still living like a man haunted by his past. My heart was broken and all I could do was think of her. Each night, for almost a year I had these incessant dreams of her. However, time gradually eased my pain. I then started to shift my interest to my surroundings”  he said.  Judging from what I saw in his eyes and heard in his voice, I was convinced of the agony he had been through. Today, Preeya is merely a friend we both once had.

“If it hadn’t been that you were enticed by a woman on this mountain, what on earth could have lured you to live in this place for twenty-five years and forget the outside world?’’

“I never fell for any girl here but you’re right, I have become attached to my friends here on this mountain.’’

He fixed his gaze over to another mountain beyond.

“This mountain looks stunning and very interesting but what’s more important are the nights. That’s the time I go out to visit my friends here. I’ll cook dinner for you in a moment and after we finish our meal, I’ll take to you meet these friends of mine.’’

3

We had a torch but there was no need to use it because the moon was so bright it was as though we had a lantern that lit our way. We walked through small passageways, upwards and then downwards. I noticed that we were heading to the other side of the mountain.

“We’ll get to Ta-chi’s house in a moment.’’

I was thinking that his friends were actually tribal folk living on this mountain. This seemed reasonable but what was so special about this particular person that made him forget the time?

I noticed that we could have reached our destination more quickly but my friend was ambling along very slowly.  He often paused to invite me to admire the scenery around us.  Under this moonlight, everything appeared like something I had never seen before.

“Why aren’t swallows here the same as those I’ve seen before?’’

I couldn’t help exclaiming after seeing several of them fly by.

“You noticed?’’

He laughed.

“But these birds are the same kind I had seen before and these fir trees too, I couldn’t say I’d never seen them but it’s as if I had never seen these firs before either.’’

I was still wondering. He smiled but didn’t answer my questions.

We chatted as we walked and sometimes just would suddenly stop walking just to carry on with our conversation.  Without realising it, we had been walking for over an hour. I wasn’t anxious or impatient neither did I find it surprising that this friend’s house could be located so far away.

Eventually we stopped in front of a hut. There was some light from inside. It looked like one of the most common houses surrounded by a wooden fence. There wasn’t any spectacular scenery around. Nipat approached the place with some familiarity. He knocked on the door.

We heard the voice of an old man calling out.

“Is that you, kid? Just come in.’’

He pushed the door and walked in while I followed closely. I saw an old man with grey hair, dressed in a simple black outfit and sitting by a small fire, on which there was a big teapot. Around the fire were a couple of small wooden stools.

“I have a friend with me today. He’s from Bangkok and we haven’t met in twenty-five years.’’

Nipat introduced me.

“Male friends I don’t want to see. Only female friends I want to see.’’

The old man replied nonchalantly, before breaking out in laughter. As soon as we sat down, he turned to Nipat and said.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you should bring some tribal girl here with you? That could make it fun.’’

I sat around gazing at the picture in front of me in wonder. I never expected Nipat’s friend to be this old. He seemed to be in his seventies or eighties. In the first instant, I thought he could have been some kind of sage who had retreated into the mountains but after listening into their conversation for a while I changed my mind. They were talking nonsense and more importantly, this old man was fond of telling off-coloured jokes. Although it was all harmless chit-chat, it somehow didn’t seem appropriate for his age.

Nipat poured hot tea in a small cup for all of us and all of us were sipping tea while watching the bonfire that glowed in the dark. I noticed that both men seemed share a close acquaintance and got along with each other very well, throughout the conversation there was constant laughter. 

An hour passed, we both bid farewell to our host. We walked through the darkness and the cold mountain air along the winding passages.

“I didn’t think that it would be an ordinary old man that would make you forget that twenty-five years have passed by. Unbelievable isn’t it?’’

“It’s a long story. Twenty-five years ago, I wandered around and found myself on this mountain. I didn’t know anyone and climbed up with no idea as to where I could find a place to sleep. I only had a sleeping bag with me  and thought it didn’t matter where I slept but I met him that night and he invited me to stay over at his house.’’

Nipat described his past.

“Back then, I was a heart-broken man. Ta-chi empathized with me. He tried to engage me in several conversations and invited me to stay with him and I ended up being a lodger with him for several months.  Each night he took me to visit one of his friend.’’

“His friend!’’

I exclaimed, realizing that we’re not on the way home.

“Yes, he’s even more important than Ta-chi. I’ll take to you Ta-yao.’’

4

Ta-yao’s house wasn’t far from Ta-chi’s. About fifteen minutes later, we arrived at another house which was located high up in the mountains, also facing the valley. I thought this house was more attractive than the first, but it didn’t surprise me very much.

Nipat walked to the door and knocked on it. There came no answer and he simply took the liberty to go ahead and swing the door open. This was probably because it was what he had done every night. We ended up around a bonfire just like in the first house, sipping tea with another grey-haired old man.

Nipat introduced me in the same manner. I stared at Ta-yao with curiosity. He appeared to be more sedate than the first man but they both seemed to be the same age. His hair had turned grey. He was tall and thin, his face seemed more elegant. He only said a few words, with a soft, gentle voice.

But they didn’t discuss any philosophy. They only kept to topics about the weather and a few other unsubstantial matters. The rest was all about sipping hot tea and nothing more.

The weather on the mountain was cold so I didn’t mind a cup of hot tea one after another. I felt a sense of tranquillity and yet my heart was still filled with wonder. What was it actually about this place that made my friend remain there for twenty-five years, and probably for the rest of his remaining life.

An hour later, we left Ta-yao’s house to walk under the cool breeze again. Once more, we strolled along the winding passages.

I began to notice that here, in these two houses, Nipat and I became just little kids. This was one surprising kind of happiness because I was turning fifty that year. Slowly, I began to think of their kindness and generosity.

“Ta-yao’s ninety now, he’s ten years older than Ta-chi.’’

Nipat told me once.

“You wouldn’t notice that. I think he seemed stronger than Ta-chi.’’

I commented.

“Yes, he’s a very healthy man. He also has a very good heart, polite, calm, and I really love him. You probably wouldn’t have noticed he has such a subtle awareness of the weather. He could feel all the wind, rain, or slight movement of the cloud or fog. You have to stay with him for quite a while to learn about this special sense of his. I’ve learned a lot from him. He’s both my friend and mentor to me.’’

“When I first came to this mountain, what struck me first was the way I slept.”

“Do you know back when I was in Bangkok, I had difficulty with sleeping even without the matter relating to Preeya. My mind was consumed by stress and tension. You couldn’t say it was induced by hard work and the lack of time for relaxation because as soon as I had some free time I would spend it watching movies or television as if I was so afraid of idleness. It’s true. That tension had an origin that’s far more subtle than the lack of time,

“It stems from human civilisation.’’

“I have always thought human civilisation was limited within the city. I had thought it’s such a great thing. Later on, I couldn’t help wondering what civilisation meant. It should have been something that responds to the basic needs in life.’’

I listened with pleasure, not wanting to interrupt him.

“However, life in the city could only respond to something while offering too much of something else and lacking in some others, such as sleeping. I could just learn to sleep soundly on this mountain. This was my first impression. Next, I discovered friendship.’’

Fifteen minutes passed and I noticed we’re walking through some passages we had never been before. I asked.

“Are we not returning to our place yet?’’

“Not yet, I haven’t introduced you to my most important friend.’’

I couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t tell me this friend is even older than Ta-yao?’’

He smiled in the dark.

“Your guess is right. O-nai was a senior friend of Ta-chi and Ta-yao. She’s an old woman over a hundred years old.’’

5

“How many friends do you actually have on this mountain?’’

I couldn’t help asking him as we were making our way to our next destination.

“I have six or seven friends but the most important three are Ta-chi, Ta-yao and O-nai. I intend to take you to visit them all tonight.’’

His answer put me into silence. I was drowned in thoughts.

Not long after, we arrived at O-nai’s house. It’s not much different from the previous two I’d seen. Actually, their houses were not that far from one another although O-nai’s house seemed further and deeper into the forest. It took us half an hour of slow walking under the moonlight. 

Nipat knocked on the door and there was a voice calling out to him as ‘’kid’’ from inside, then we entered. The doors of all these three houses was not locked.

The owner of this house was an old woman, her hair was silvery white. It was a whiteness that glowed and shimmered. She sat upright. Her eyes were still full of life. She smiled and I could see that her teeth still remained in good condition, white and beautiful. In front of her was a large pot of soy milk on the fire in the middle of the room.

“Kids, come and have some of my soy milk.’’

She invited. The two of us sat around the fire as before, the only difference being that we had soy milk instead of tea this time.

It was probably my exhaustion, or the cold weather on the mountain, or the excitement about something that night, I discovered that this was the most delicious soy milk I had ever tasted in my life. I finished two big cups on my own.

Apart from having soy milk instead of tea, every thing else seemed no different. It was like Nipat was with a grandmother he was so close to. Both of them talked in whispers. I no longer took any interest in their conversation because I could guess that it was as ordinary as the mundane things going on in everyday life.

An hour after, we were out, walking under the moon again. This time, we headed to the cliff where Nipat’s place was. It was already nearly midnight.

“How old is she?’’

I asked again.

“Actually, I don’t know. I only know she’s older than Ta-chi and Ta-yao. She couldn’t even remember it herself. I believed she is over a hundred-year-old but I don’t know exactly.’’

“She’s very healthy. Her memory is still excellent. Did she really make that soy milk herself?’’

I continued asking.

“Yes, she does it everyday, for herself and for selling to the neighbours. We all often support her soy milk. She can live her daily life just like anybody else does, let alone making soy milk. Some days, she can visit me at my place. She can walk up and down this mountain like everybody else.’’

“Really?’’

I exclaimed with surprise. I closed my eyes imagining an old woman aged over a hundred years walking uphill and downhill on her own. The thought of it overwhelmed me. This night was much longer than I had thought.

“Prapan, do you think how many times in our life that we’d get a chance to sit down and drink soy milk prepared for us by an old woman over a hundred years old. You cannot find this anywhere else in the world.’’

“My first acquaintance was with Ta-chi. He later introduced me to some other friends on this mountain, five or six of them. The most important ones are the ones I’ve taken you to meet.’’

“I have learned from Ta-yao, who’s like my teacher. However, there are other things here on this mountain that have been my teachers too.  One day, you’ll understand why all the trees here are different from those in other places. That’s just because we can focus more. When we talk about something so ordinary with our friends, there is something more subtle than usual. As for O-nai, I only have to think of the manner in which she does things, whatever she does, and that just invigorates me. I feel as if I have learned an infinite lesson by just thinking about sitting there drinking the soy milk she makes me, observing her whether when she’s sitting, standing, walking, picking things up herself, helping herself in everything. It’s a lesson learned by just looking, not by reading or thinking. It’s about looking and feeling.’’

“I have no right to be weak or to despair. How could I do that when a woman who’s over a hundred years old can do everything by herself? I remember her baking me a cake for each of my birthdays. Do you understand how much this means to me?’’

“On the surface, there doesn’t seem to be much to do up here. However, with this special kind of relationship, I’ve discovered that there are various endless activities to do aside from living a good life. The rest is all about my friends.  It seems like I have some special function here on this mountain.’’

Nipat’s voice now was filled with emotion. It was now that I began to understand him more.

“Have all the three of them lived on this mountain since they were born?’’

I asked again.

“Oh, not at all. It’s the other way round. All of them used to live on the lowlands during their youth or they wouldn’t be able to speak Thai. Actually, they have been through a lot but in the end, when they’re older, they retreat to the mountains, deeper and deeper. Now, they probably won’t move anywhere else.’’

“One day, I told Ta-yao that this place was  the eye of the storm. No matter how mad and tempestuous the world outside was, this place always remained as calm as ever. This serenity originates from the friendship and camaraderie we feel here and it has spread all over.’’

6

Tonight, we had so much to talk about and suddenly, he asked.

“Have you seen Preeya lately?’’

I replied.

“Ever since she married that man we hardly met though I did run into her and her husband twice. She didn’t seem to change much, still beautiful, stern looking and indecipherable. Her husband, on the other hand, is dark skinned, fat and paunchy and has a most unfriendly demeanour about him.” 

“Is she happy?’’

Nipat asked.

“I don’t know. We hardly had any time to talk. She never had any children.  Up until now, I could only look at the marriages of each of us with wonder. It isn’t something that can be explained. Why did she choose this guy over me or you?’’

I told this to him with a strange feeling. It was probably the moonlight that evoked past memories as if that past was only as far as another mountain.

Nipat was probably the same, drifting back and thinking of the past.

“The first year I came here, I dreamed of Preeya every night. Sometimes I had a strange dream. I dreamed that I had gone over to her house everyday and it was all closed and locked up. One day, I decided to climb over the window into her room, just wanting to know whether she was home. I found that there was a giant lizard on her bed. It had fierce, big swollen eyes and was sticking its long tongue out looking very hungry.’’

“From its eyes, I could see that this lizard was Preeya. I had no idea what caused this, what had transformed her but I wasn’t afraid. Do you remember Preeya was the kind of women who’s so difficult to approach, or to penetrate into her thoughts? I was delighted, therefore, to see her transformed into a lizard in the dream because this way I could be near her.’’

“I never dared to tell anyone for fear that they would kill her or put this monster in the zoo, so I kept this a secret. Everyday, I would buy her some food, lie nearby and stroke the scales on her body.’’

“This was a recurrent dream for me, much like a serialised novel. Sometimes during the day, I had the urge that nightfall should hasten thinking it would be another night I had to bring some food to her.’’

“However, one day, her mouth was gaped wide with hunger. It seemed as it she had grown bored of the food I had brought her. There was a glimpse of desire in her eyes.’’

“At that moment, I knew what she wanted. She wished to devour me for her meal and I was happy. In my thinking being her food was only second to having her as my spouse. The last image in my dream was of her opening her purple mouth wide, swallowing me into darkness.’’

“It was such a peculiar happiness. It was the final happiness and my last memory of her.’’

“A psychologist could find something to analyse about my feelings from these dreams but I never dreamed of her again after that. It’s like I had reached a saturation point and it had been going on like this for one whole year. After that I underwent a drastic transformation. I began my new life on this mountain.’’

That night was so long. I stood listening to him narrating his dreams.

Suddenly, he said.

“I had an agenda in writing that letter to you.’’

7

“One day, I began to think of the six of you, all of us close friends we were during our younger years. I was reminded of how you guys were advancing in age. One day when you are freed from your life commitments and feel that the end of life is approaching and that it will be filled with loneliness, I’d like to invite you all to come and live with me here.’’

“Is this really what you think?’’

I was dumbfounded.

“Yes, it is. Healthy as my old friends are, a human being’s physical wellbeing is nothing to rely on. One day, they will pass away, maybe one at a time or all at the same time. I may still have some other friends on this mountain and even with no friends, I can still live here. I have been trained to endure solitude for the past twenty-five years but if any of you want to come along, I’ll be glad. The thought of all of us being together again is so overwhelming. Please tell our friends that I invite them to live in the centre of the world.’’

“One day, you’ll understand why I call it so. It’s still, tranquil and can generate learning from such an incredible angle. I had never thought sipping tea and drinking soy milk with friends could have rendered such immense, endless effect. This made the Japanese tea ceremony, Japanese garden and Zen meditation merely child play to me.  What is generated by this is more real. It is real because it has no purpose.’’

“I don’t imagine all six of you could make it here. Perhaps there’ll only be just two, but that is amazing enough. We’ll become a new group of old men on this mountain and one day, there might be some kid turning up, some young men and women that came into our embrace.’’

“This evening, you told me that Woranut had divorced her husband. I could remember her well. She had depth. She was emotional and difficult to please. She had a lot of unresolved conflicts in her but deep inside there was such vulnerability. However, someone like her should come and live on this mountain when they get old because this place is a land of emotional subtlety. I believe she’ll grow stronger up here, be happy and will live long. Today, I was slightly worried about her and that’s probably because she was the only female member in the gang with whom we had never thought of as anything else than a friend. I ask you to convey my message to her, as well as to all four of our other friends. If they can come here, our friendship will be even stronger. There’s so much space left on this mountain for all of you to build a house.’’

These words pierced deep into my heart. The first question was whether I could really tear myself away from my family. I might probably not be able to that day but you couldn’t be that certain in the next ten years. Nipat seemed to be in no hurry.

“Cool, I’ll ask Preeya to join us here, too.’’

I said to him, casually.    

up

1

There I was, standing at the entrance of the Sirisampat mansion.

In fact, I should have called it a palace, located as it was on a sprawling four-acre compound in the suburbs. The imposing main gate and the long brick wall were already enough to overwhelm me.

I informed the security guard that I had an appointment with Mr Pakorn that noon. I was left staring at the exterior of the house from beyond the walls while the internal phone call was being made.

In fact, I had visited this mansion before but that was over twenty years ago. Back then, Pakorn and I were in high school. The mansion had changed a great deal in its appearance. That was evident even from the outside.

Pakorn had gone into seclusion living all alone in this mansion and rarely met with any of his friends.

Some of his former school mates and teachers declared that he had become insane, probably due to the fact that he had been reading too many books and become overly obsessed with himself. I took those comments with a grain of salt.

It was unbelievable. He had been the brightest student in our class, at secondary school. I recalled from some of our childhood conversations that he was a kid with amazing ideas and he was remarkably more mature than his age.

Human beings tend to be pessimistic and allow themselves to believe unfounded rumours.

I remembered a rumour circulating about the possibility that he was homosexual, just because he took no interest in the opposite sex, though in fact, neither did he take any interest in anybody of the same sex. Why was it that simply because he wasn’t that enthusiastic sexually and people believed him to be gay? Why hadn’t they seen him as a man who preferred seclusion and self-sufficiency? Or, he could have simply been an average guy who preferred to live on his own.

Being different from the mainstream often leads to all sorts of prejudices, and that might actually be the only reason.

He was a bright student but when we finished high school, it happened to be the same time his father passed away, leaving him with a huge inheritance. He had become a millionaire at an early age because he was the only son and heir since his mother had died long before. With this major change in life, he quit school and lived alone in his mansion, which up until today had undergone such huge renovations that I could barely recognise it.

I heard a rumour that he had built a large library in the mansion and locked himself alone in it, reading.

That’s what led most of our friends to question his sanity.  To them, this was most regretful considering the fact that he was so smart and so rich. Looking back, all those rumours were generated from assumptions based purely on the fact that he was so different from other people. We could probably have had some other answer if only we had tried to find one. For example, he refused to have a job because he was already very rich and might not have wanted to increase his wealth any further. This sounded plausible because why should we need to struggle to acquire what we don’t  need. Probably, he didn’t further his studies because he didn’t want to earn a degree.

What was strange though was why he would prefer a secluded life on his own?

This is indeed a rare quality. However, it’s shared by hermits or those who lead a contemplative life. I once heard about a man who swore never to utter a word for several years or may be for his entire life. If we are open-minded enough, we see that it’s not entirely impossible.

Didn’t he ever get bored or feel lonesome being on his own? 

Why could he be so contented with himself while all the rest of us had struggled to be educated, have a family or acquire our wealth up until this time when we had already reached our forty-third year in life? Again, we seemed hardly more mature than we had been before. Sometimes I bumped into those friends who were still out for some drinks or gallivanting and so on. We were just like when were teenagers, despite our advancing age.  Was this resistance to change something that had helped us to retain a sense of normalcy?

Who was it who had actually changed and who hadn’t?

My thoughts were interrupted when the security guard told me Mr Pakorn would come down to see me in a moment.

I had never thought that visiting a close friend who had been my classmate for so many years would be as difficult as trying to get an appointment to meet with a cabinet minister. I was left waiting outside for what seemed like an eternity.  This was probably one reason why nobody attempted to stay in touch with him.

He had built a wall that separated him from and every one else.

I remembered how he had published a book when he was twenty-one. It was a collection of five short stories that turned out to be a flop. There were rumours that his dream was to become a writer. With his first publication a commercial failure, he was said to have been extremely disappointed and went into seclusion.

I felt incredulous with rumours such as this. Indeed if it was true, it would be very ridiculous since becoming a successful writer involved a great deal of struggle, probably a large number of works. He had published only one book and had disappeared completely. If he had been too upset by this failure, it all would have been such a waste.

Incidentally, I happened to have that particular collection of short stories in possession, although I could hardly understand them.

Everything was a rumour. My experiences told me not to jump into conclusions. If rumours were parasites, all human beings would have their big stomachs crawling with them.  

A month ago one day, I couldn’t get over thinking of him and it was then that I decided to write him a letter, sending it to the old address. I never expected a reply answer because I wasn’t certain he was residing at the same place or whether he even had any recollection of who I was. Imagine my surprise when he wrote back in a very cordial manner.  It was as if it were only a matter of a few days that we had been parted.  He also invited me to visit his mansion at noon on this day.

I saw him approaching me from afar, walking along the spacious driveway lined with huge trees on both sides.

I felt goose bumps as he came closer because, at forty-three, he still looked so similar to his younger self. He had the appearance of a teenager. Of course, he had aged but from his posture, and something else that’s difficult to explain, I was convinced this was the same old Pakorn.

I couldn’t help being reminded of over ten of our other classmates who were still in touch with me. It was they who had changed and it was I who accepted changes as something natural.  Some who once had the robust physique of a sportsman had now become emaciated due to some disease. Some had overcome fatal diseases while others who had once had a beautiful body had now become so fat that they would complain of exhaustion, their legs aching after walking only a few steps. Some who had been placid and gentle was now hardened and cruel. Those who had once been fired with strong political and social idealism had now become money-minded businessmen who hardly spared any thought for anyone except the interests of their own families.

Looking back, what we defined as ordinary should instead be called madness. Instead, those ordinary people were the ones who should have been deemed insane.

But the one so many others, including former teachers from school, thought of as a mad man was instead walking to me with a physique and emotional well being that remained as fresh as if he had only stepped out of school twenty-seven years back.

What had actually taken place?  

2

“So glad to see you here. Please come in!’’

He came over and greeted me warmly and both of us started to converse as we walked along the way on the walkway. The huge trees gave us shade and umbrage from the harsh sunlight. Difficult as it was to have gained access to him, having surrounded himself with walls that kept him away from the rest of the world, once you actually got up close and personal with him he hadn’t changed all that much and remained very much just a school boy.

He spoke with words that were still vivacious and totally frank.

In my forty-third year, my hair was already thinning, especially around the crown. He, on the contrary, was wearing the primary school kids’ short crop that made it look like he still had a full head of hair.

His body remained beautifully in shape with no excess fat visible.  I felt embarrassed by all the weight I had gained. He was wearing a white T-shirt and brown shorts, with slippers.

Casually dressed and extremely easygoing, he was more like a child than an adult. He conversed animatedly with a smile that seemed to be plastered permanently on his face. I couldn’t help wondering what this paradox was, where did that self-imposed barrier that stretched as far as twenty-seven years came from?

What struck me was that his notion of time seemed to work differently from others.

His period of one year wasn’t the same as my one year and ten years of his life were even more different from the period of ten years in my life.

“You’re weird, man! You stopped studying, you don’t work, don’t go out and don’t hang out with friends. I’ve always wondered what you’ve been doing with your life.’’

It had taken only a few minutes after we’d met and I already felt a sense of familiarity  with him had resumed.

“My life has changed because I began my conceptual work one day. It’s something insignificant if you don’t do it but if you do, you have to devote your entire life and energy to it. It’s a game you have to play to the end of life.’’

He told me all this in good humour. I began to notice a glimmer in his eyes that was quite unlike other people. They were still and glowed with bondless energy and vigour. He wasn’t handsome but he had a demeanour that made it pleasant to be with.

“I’m very much the same person I was.  It’s just that I’ve been concentrating on my one hundred-room conceptual work. I had a new mansion built, attached to the old building until I had one hundred rooms altogether. Each room was devoted to a different concept. It’s a huge job that could take an entire lifetime.’’

“Come in. In a moment let me give you a tour of my work. I can only show you three rooms though.’’

“How come?’’

I exclaimed with disappointment.

“Viewing each room demands a great deal of energy, both from me as the guide and from you as the visitor. Covering more than three rooms would be too much, like when you over eat or spend too long watching a movie that you begin to lose your concentration. My work isn’t over yet. Some rooms are still empty whereas others are done and then some are partially completed.’’

“Why are you engaged in this one hundred-room conceptual project, anyway?’’

“Because it’s fun.’’

I couldn’t help being taken aback by this simple answer. Deep down, I couldn’t believe it could all boil down to just this. Is it worth the entire energy of one whole life? Isn’t it instead, total waste of energy?  Moreover, it doesn’t seem to yield any visible benefit to others or to society. In silence I was criticising him. 

3

His previous mansion was over sixty years old, a structure built in western style architecture supported with several rounded columns. Now, there’s an addition of a new building, a glasshouse similar in size. To me, it looked more like an art gallery than a residence.

In fact, he didn’t live in this mansion.

Nearby there was a small one-storey house, built on a slope. He told me he lived in that house and further away were the quarters of his household staff. 

He showed me into this house where we sat for a moment. There was a bedroom, a living room and a library.

There was no kitchen.

He said he couldn’t tolerate the smell of food. Every day he would walk out on foot to have one meal outside.  Sometimes, he would drive out somewhere far away to find a place to dine.  He said it was one of his ways to relax since he spent most of the time at home which meant he had to find some reason to go out at times. That one   meal a day served, therefore, as a physical workout.

He showed me a huge lawn around which he would jog every morning. It was the size of a stadium.

The staff quarters was situated in a separate building.  Five people lived there; a security guard, a gardener, and three maids who did the cleaning.

Eventually, he took me into his mansion to see his conceptual work. He said these one hundred rooms varied in size, each varying in importance and each posing a difference in the difficulty of production. Each room would be designated a number and name to make it easier to remember.

Then, he took me to                             

                        Room Number One: The One-Hundred-Year Short Stories

It was a small room in which there was a book cabinet. Inside the cabinet were the same books. I recognized it as his first ever short stories.

He said that he had published his first and only book in 1980. It was a collection of five short stories. The book was only ninety-six pages in length. He published a thousand copies but only twenty of them were sold. Stored in this room were the remaining nine hundred and eighty books and there they remained intact for the past twenty three years. I stood gazing at those nine hundred and eighty books with amazement.  

We sat down on the floor by the window. I noticed how clean the floor of the room was which meant that it was cleaned regularly. I was wondering whether this was exactly what he meant as a conceptual room. What was it all about?

“I heard that this book was a flop and you were quite devastated, right?’’

I asked him. He burst out laughing and there was happiness in his voice.

“I was young in those days, of course I was disappointed but not to the point of being distressed or devastated because I knew it was a difficult piece of work. It’s quite evident in the name even.’’

I couldn’t help looking at the cover. It said “The One-Hundred-Year Short Stories.”

“This was my first conceptual work. It will work to its full potential when turns one hundred years old. It’s been only twenty-three years today.’’

He explained.

“You mean to make people spend a hundred years reading it?’’

I exclaimed.

“Quite likely.’’

“Here’s an analogy. It’s like I’m selling a tree which will blossom only once in a hundred years. However, it’s not any ordinary flower. It’s an exquisite coral tree with blossoms of unsurpassed beauty, rarely found anywhere on earth. Wouldn’t you be interested in buying this tree?’’

“The average reader wants to grasp what he is reading in a few moments which is similar to the desire to buy a tree that can blossom in only a few minutes. If this is what they want, it’s the way they are. What I want to ask is why these readers are so contented with so little? Why don’t they try something new like planting a different tree perhaps?

“This is a conceptual work. It’s cutting-edge peculiar. It’s genuine. I ask myself why I didn’t go for something simple for my first book, an escape romance, for example. The answer is that a conceptual work has to be real in all elements. It has to begin with reality. I can’t start from lies.’’

“It’s difficult because the structure inside this book is designed to become a tree that blossoms once in a hundred years.’’

“Even nowadays, I still have to re-read it from time to time. This room is still in use, once a month or once in two months. I discover changes each time I re-read it. It’s like a new book. It’s very serene. Every point in this book runs in the opposite direction to itself.’’

“It’s my first but most frightening work. I don’t know how it happened.’’

“You’ve read it, haven’t you? You can try reading it again today and you’ll discover that it’s not the same. Although we’re so far away from the one-hundredth year, but the twenty-year time is enough to bring about some movement.’’

I couldn’t help blushing when he said this. I remembered buying this book out of mere curiosity only to discover that it was a very difficult book to tackle with. I actually never finished it. Some people said only those who were out of their minds would read this book. Rumours of his eccentricity intensified after he had published this book.

“But if the book is such a difficult work, why didn’t you provide some explanation or remarks?’’

I couldn’t help commenting.

“The explanations are all there but not in the footnotes. They can be found in the other ninety-nine conceptual rooms. It needs to be silent, vast and serious to the last in order to achieve the essence of a real conceptual work. It’s automatically forced to be so.’’

“Can’t you feel anything at all, up until the present?’’

He asked while I wasn’t sure what he meant exactly.

“Seriously, take a look at those nine hundred and eighty books in the cabinet! They project feeling and beauty.  As real as if there was a heart beating inside them. It’s such a tragic statement that they are left there unwanted, unnoticed by the world outside. However, that they remain there peacefully on the shelves, unfazed and unafraid, reflecting something strange and unusual in them.’’

“A conceptual work needs to bring about empathy. It can’t be something lifeless since it’s a creation by the hands of man. It doesn’t talk about love and yet how come we can feel love? It doesn’t talk about fear but why can we sense some fear?’’

“For example, you went to see a horror movie but here you are standing in a room which is truly a real horror film. You went to see a detective movie but now you’re in a room where a detective story is taking place with all the thrill and excitement. Why do you feel like you wasted your money? That’s because human lives are being controlled by a slow and ancient concept that’s as unyielding as ever. At the end, you’d just want a tree that blossoms in a few minutes and anything else will be thrown away. In fact, there are various flowers in nature and some can be a lot more exquisite than that.’’

He might have found my expression humorous and therefore he burst out laughing like a mischievous kid. He seemed to be somersaulting on the floor.

Eventually, he wasn’t the last bit disappointed when he managed to sell only twenty copies of this book. It turned out that its flop became its greatest appeal.

“It’s been so long ago so why don’t you take them out and launch them on the market once again. There might be more people who can understand it this time.’’

“You’re right but I’m in no hurry. I can wait for another five or ten years. One other thing is, only a few more copies will be sold even if we re-launch them.  I already know this.’’

I thought I could detect a tinge of sadness in his voice.

4

Next, he escorted me to the main hallway.  You could say it was a room itself located as it were at the heart of the mansion and it was named

                                        Room Number Seven : Dictionary Room

What greeted me upon entering this room was astonishing.  The two sides of the room were filled with hardbacks, each comprising approximately eight hundred pages. The left wing accommodated black hardbacks while the right ring had red hardbacks. They all were lined along the room to the marble stairs and along the staircase. I had no ideas how many there were altogether.

He said there were his two thousand dictionaries, divided into one thousand copies on the left wing and one thousand copies on the right wing.

This is another significant room because it’s a big-scale work.

These were dictionaries he himself had compiled.  He composed them himself and was still in the process of doing so. He said I could have a look at anything I wanted so I picked one from the left wing and took a look at its cover.

                                        Dictionary Alphabet A

                                        Master Pakorn Sirisampat

And when I picked one from the right wing, I saw

                                        Dictionary Alphabet B

                                        Miss Pakorn Sirisampat

I couldn’t help being shocked by the title on the covers. As soon as I picked some others, I discovered that those black covers on the left wing bore the male title while those red ones on the right bore the female title.

He told me that he had two thousand notebooks made one day in 1985, each as equal in size and volume as the Buddhist Tipitaka scriptures but all of them blank notebooks. It’s as if he had ordered plain paper from the printing house, with no lines on the pages but with well-designed covers imprinted with gold letters.

The letters were complete from A to Z.

However, these books were divided into two wings and arranged alternately with the first alphabet for the boy, the second alphabet for the girl, the third alphabet for the boy and the fourth alphabet for the girl etc.

I was quite bewildered so I inquired why they had to be divided as such.

He said it gave this work a dynamic and energetic dimension.  It inspired competitiveness. If it’s all boys or all girls, it would be too static and wouldn’t inspire any joy. He finished the sentence, laughing bemusedly.

Pakorn was a very strange person but on the other hand, wasn’t it quite evident that to him every thing was child’s play?  It’s just that he was so earnest with his game to the extent that none of us would be able to imagine it.

I was thinking about how we defined what was normal and what wasn’t. Was I a normal person? And Pakorn wasn’t? I felt a shot of terror while musing on this. Come to think of it, he was so normal, as bright and happy as an average kid. It was I for whom it was difficult to tell – not exactly dead and certainly not exactly alive.

For the past forty-three years, I have no idea what else I have done aside from aping and imitating others.

Where have many of us human beings disappeared to? They didn’t have

                                        1. Soul

                                        2. Mind

                                        3. Determination

                                        4. Commitment

                                        5. Words

We were like spirits floating aimlessly during the night. We were like police officers who went on a tour of inspection following our duty, like entertainers in night clubs, like clowns in a comedy café etc. Even love, I felt most of the love in the world had been created as a result of hypnosis. We’re hypnotised by various media from novels, movies, television to advertisements etc., but where do we find true, genuine love?

My heart quivered simply by looking at those two thousand books. I felt frustrated, as if I was angry with Pakorn but I was not. Or, should I have been angry with myself?

That was the intensity of this work. I flipped through pages of some books.

                                        AAA  = The deepest part of a valley

AAAHAH = The constant vibration in the body of the queen Khaki

PHPH = The parasitic worms inside the stomach of an Apsara angel

He allowed me to walk all over the place to read. He said between every two words in the Royal Institute Thai Dictionary, you could create an endless number of new words.

He used a pencil for every entry and some of the pages remained empty. Actually, ninety per cent of those two thousands were empty. He said he created this with a concept and seeing them all arranged in curved lines was a completion though he knew there’s no way he could complete the whole two thousand books.

A conceptual work was about presenting the concept in the most realistic way possible.

He said when he placed an order for the publication of these books, he was wondering what the largest number would be without having too many to handle. He settled at an amount of two thousand books which accommodated the whole huge wall. The intensity that fell right in your eyes was the first signal sent out by this work.

I noticed that there was a difference in the handwriting for the boys’ group and the girls’ group.

He said he used his right hand for the boys’ group but his left hand for the girls’. Actually, Pakorn was right-handed just like many others. However, there’s a wonder here when what was written with his left hand in the girls’ group of books seem to be more lively and beautiful. This was probably because it was really childlike, staggering handwriting. This happened without any premeditation on his part.

The handwriting in the boys’ group seemed slightly too mature. He said the complexity  started  from the handwriting process. It’s like a sports game, it’s a star war, he said all this with enthusiasm, his eyes brimming with happiness.

I took a walk while reading the books with curiosity. Some words had long explanation such as;

                                        NA = A non-existing planet, with properties:

                                        1. Dwellers on this planet have no ego.

                                        2. The language of the dwellers on this planet has no nouns.

3. The grammar of the language of the dwellers on this planet divides tenses into:

                                                        3.1 Past tense has more than one hundred tenses

                                                        3.2 Future tense has more than one hundred tenses

                                                        3.3 Present tense has only one tense

I couldn’t help telling him.

“Pakorn, I think this word is self-contradictory. You say it’s a non-existent planet but you turned out explaining its properties so it ended up really existing.’’

He laughed happily.

“If you look well enough, you’ll see what’s going on around us is full of contradictions. Time can be a good example. The quality of time is as follows.

1. If it’s the past, it’s neither present nor future. If it’s present, it’s neither past nor future. If it’s future, it’s neither past nor present.

2. All time, however, has been through being the past, present and future.

It’s this contradiction that assures the non-existence of time while we know in every moment that time exists. We know it with the watch, with our own conscience.’’

“Think about it, even what’s so common and is with us every moment like time seems to have self-contradiction. Why can’t this planet ณา be self-contradictory?’’

I was taken aback, not knowing how to respond.

“What’s even stranger was that despite its non-existent nature, it actually exists and it’s not anywhere far away in the universe. It’s superimposed in this world.’’

He told me this cheerfully. I simply had to keep my mouth shut and continued with the other books.

KRRRRRRH =The phenomena of having a black fish swimming in the pupil

KRRRRRRRRRRM  =  The phenomena of having a black dragon swimming in the pupil

He’s so thoughtful, fanciful and cheeky, I thought to myself.

KH   =  silence of a baby

KHKH =1. love of a  feeble-minded child

                                                          2.  frontier of a small country

                                            KHKHKH  = a set of triplets who are closely united.

I couldn’t help giving a comment that many of his words were unpronounceable. He admitted, saying they represent the sound of silence. Over half of the words in this dictionary were the sound of silence, he said.

MAY  = dream of going to the cinema but ending up only standing in front of the cinema due to some certain circumstances.

(compared with PAMAY = dream of going to the cinema but ending up standing in front of the cinema because it is crowded.)

I couldn’t help laughing.

TURAKAN  = a fish that jumps above the surface of the seawater for a moment.

At a blink of a moment, I felt a headache. It’s such a tough game he played and my brain couldn’t stand it. It throbbed so hard as if it was going to explode.

I asked myself what the objective of this dictionary could be. Was it to crush readers like me to scream at the top of our voice?

                                        MHMHMH  = The transformation of a loved one

It’s like I was facing a tempest. My body felt like a tiny creature floating in the ocean.

NAHH = The rule of a human language without noun that culminates in endless nouns, some of which are immense in size.

I couldn’t help exclaiming that most of his words were nouns and each noun was such a hard lump, too hard for my life experience. It’s like a person who spent all his life eating a moderate variety of food in daily life and spending time in the market buying only a few kinds of meat and vegetables, and had to face one day a kind of strange frightening kind of meat, a wholly unfamiliar plant and various other kinds of creatures which we never knew were living creatures. What’s more difficult was that I had to eat them as food. I began to feel sickened. There was an obtuse stubbornness and a refusal to accept them in my mind.

I didn’t accept these new words, they belonged to his own private world.

It’s his own private world, it’s thus a non-existent planet.

It’s the non-existent planet, and that’s why it’s right in front of me.

Alas, it’s a conceptual work, that’s why he had said it’s a game of chess that players had to play to their death.

                                        INPAKAD  = Space that does not exist in time

                                        JUNPAKAD  = Time that does not exist in space

I had no ideas how long time passed but I think that’s enough. I had thought this would be the last item I’d read but I couldn’t help reading on.

                                        TRRRRRRRP = The past that refuses to merge with the present

(Compared to TTRRRRRRRRP  = the past that refuses to merge with the future)

When I opened these books, I found them flocking in like an army. It’s as if they’re doors to other spaces. Each creature I found was scary, fierce and the weirdest I’d ever seen.

It’s a visit from extraterrestrial creatures.

TTY  = the impossibility to remain in the past for more than one second

BBY  = the impossibility to remain in the future for more than one second

He said his dictionary was essentially large enough to contain all the non-knowledge in the universe, with even some space left.

This non-knowledge, should it appear elsewhere, would seem silly and nonsensical. When in this dictionary, it would be calm. It’s pacified by words and became just one of an infinite number as if it’s spellbounded. It’s like a spoiled, naughty brat who was tamed upon discovering that he’s surrounded by countless other equally naughty kids.

                                        PARATH  = This life has passed.

                                        (compared to KARATH = This life has not come.) 

My eyes must have been reddened because I felt something might have stung me, however, I didn’t feel like putting these books down yet.

                                        RKKK = Only one in a million of this universe is truth

                                        (compared to KKKR = Only one in a million of time is truth)

A tear trickled down my cheek.

He said sometimes he came up with a new word that sounded difficult, confusing and self-contradictory because it’s the appeal of life.

He said everything in his mind was completely revealed and it’s now just like a transparent crystal.

He said there’s nothing scandalous in his mind.

DA = A non-existent planet. The denizens on this planet cannot lie, so they are incapable of knowing what truth is.

AANUTI =a child prodigy who hates his own father for his attempt to make a genius out of his own child but ends up destroying the ingenuity of the child instead.

PATI =The state during which every man has a full erection and finally become one man.

I felt as if had spent more than one day in that room but it’d been only a few hours.

TIHH = A discovery of a lost item that turns out to be replaceable but it’s not the same item. The newly acquired item is slightly more valuable than the old one.

For a long time, it’s as if some memory was coming back to me. I had never thought this would come back to me.

KAWWW = The creation of a new planet, which is easier than the effort to establish a new nation.

CHAWWW  = The fact that man cannot become enemy with fireflies.

(compared to PAWWW = The fact that man can become enemy with the sun, but not with the sunset.)

5

I had no ideas when I had left Room Number 7. He dragged me out, probably after seeing that I was too consumed by it. He then took me to a small room, which was a glass house.

                                        Room Number Fourteen: The Spatial Movement

Actually, it should be his greenhouse but what’s different was that each kind of flower was labelled with the word saying the first spatial movement, the second spatial movement and so on until the twelfth spatial movement and that’s all. So, there were twelve kinds of flowers in this room.

I had been exhausted from Room Number Seven so upon seeing two long benches, I lay down. He did the same and we both were lying on two separate benches. This reminded me of our schooldays together during secondary years.

It’s near evening now. The temperature in the glass house was warm but lying down to view the flowers gave me time to relax. He said he had expected me to view one big room and two small rooms today, and now he was also worn out for after guiding me to one room after another required high mental energy because each single room was a living creature and it’s not like walking in a gallery.

In fact, it’s I who was totally worn out. I lay there with my eyes shut consumed by exhaustion.

Although deep inside, I was curious to see what was inside the remaining ninety-seven rooms, I no longer had the stamina or the courage to pursue with the task.

I asked since when was it that he began work on Room Number Fourteen. He said it was in 1988. I asked if these twelve kinds of flowers had remained the same or undergone any changes. He said it depended on his mood but some of them were members since the first day and had remained so today, such as the first spatial movement, Mandevilla Vine, or the second spatial movement or Wild Allamanda. He was so happy with them that he didn’t change.

I asked what he saw in these flowers.

He said some days he’d sit looking at these flowers. He felt calm and it’s like he had learned something from them. It’s something so tiny that he called spatial movement.

It’s a small work station for which he had not much ambition.

Although each of the one hundred-room conceptual work is independent, they formed one single unit, like a one hundred-feet millipede with each single foot separated for others but walking together as a team. They supported and helped explain one another. Nowadays, he seemed to be hearing the footsteps of a giant millipede.

“Pakorn, have you ever showed these rooms to anyone else?’’

I asked, still lying with my eyes closed.

“Rarely. Your visit was not the first, actually. I sometimes let my friends in and I’d limit the tour to only three rooms every time. Last year, for example, I ran into Wisit, you remember Wisit?’’

He mentioned a school friend of ours from high school.

“I hadn’t met him for a long time so I invited him to come along for some fun and took him to see three rooms. He turned up with a friend I don’t know. That man is a painter so it turned out I had one gate-crasher. I said nothing out of courtesy and I thought perhaps letting a stranger view this work could be strangely fun.’’

“But that day, I was insulted.’’

Upon saying this, his voice was slightly filled with pain. I was surprised and exclaimed.

“Who insulted you and how?”

“It was that gate-crasher. After viewing them, his verdict was that I should have left those rooms empty.’’

“Hearing that, I was hurt, nearly angered. It was like an insult on my entire body of work despite having viewed only three rooms and it was an insult to my heart because they are efforts I have devoted my entire life to.’’

His voice was now saddened.

“I could understand what was the motivation behind his words and that was why I was saddened.’’

“These artists have little knowledge of Buddhist philosophy but are arrogant enough to criticise others. It might appear like a polite, harmless comment but I have thought a lot about this work and finished reading the Tipitaka since I was in high school. I dared not exploit emptiness to criticise anyone. I never dared to tell a painter to leave his canvas empty even if I was a monk. And for that painter who criticised me, he doesn’t leave his canvas empty.’’

“I was really angry because I hadn’t invited him in the first place – it was Wisit who invited him here. I let him in like letting someone else attack me. However, I gathered my self-control, thinking in a positive light that this was one strange experience.’’

“I am aware that letting people out there in to view my work will culminate more in criticism than praise.’’

He laughed with good humour again after saying this.

He walked me to the main gate and we parted with a promise that I would come back if I thought of him one day. He then would take me to see three more rooms.

He said he knew we wouldn’t get to meet often because he preferred to be on his own. This encounter was an exception and that’s why he was straightforward with what he said, with no pretension or concealment.

I walked out off his territory with confusion, pain, overwhelmed, respect, warmth, happiness and anxiety. There’re so many of them that he himself might not even think of it.

As an outsider, I was scared and anxious of so many things he had done unwittingly. 

Eventually, I thought of an old saying, which slightly lifted up my spirit.

Some said Kylin was a rare animal in this world and that’s why it could walk into the market without being noticed.

The human eyes are so used to what they’re familiar with that what they had never seen will turn invisible.

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