ATOATS [8 - Epilogue]

Chapter 8

The new volunteer teacher woke up late, just as he had announced. It was already 9:30 am when he came because of the heat from the sun that was burning through the roof.

Thien got up and lazily stretched his limbs. The man that had been lying next to him the night before had already been gone, perhaps going back to his camp. It didn't matter. He didn't care that much anyway. As he picked up his towel and toothbrush, his eyes caught a sporty travelling bag that the captain brought with him.

The young man cocked his eyebrow, puzzled, and rushed down the stairs to look at the space under the hut. He saw dishes of salted egg, canned fermented Chinese cabbage, and the cold boiled rice -- aloof the familiar, simple food -- being laid out on the litter. But there was no sight of the man he was looking for.

...Where the hell did he go?

Thien headed towards the earthen jar at the back of his house. He was still thankful that someone had filled the water for him every morning. He undressed, leaving only a boxer on, and placed his clothes on the toilet's door frame nearby, and brushed his teeth.

It was late morning and the temperature was warm enough for him to take a cold bath. He picked up a plastic bowl, scooped up the cold water, and splashed it all over his body. He did it with ease, compared to the first day, and thought that he could get used to it in no time.

The black charcoal soap made bubbles and gave off a sweet Jasmine fragrance that freshened him up every time. He pushed the bar under his boxer and poured the water down himself until he was thoroughly cleaned. Even if there was no one around, he still had enough decency to keep one remaining piece on instead of being butt-naked and getting the mountain and forest spirits to curse at him.

Thien lifted the towel from the door to dry himself before wrapping it around his waist. He pulled the wet boxer down and put on the t-shirt. His bath was done. The young man whistled as he went back into the hut to rummage through this backpack. Then, he let out a loud curse.

"Fuck!!! I've run out of clothes!"

The wealthy young man pulled at his hair. He finally wore all of the clothes he'd brought on the journey after one week. What now? He didn't know how to wash the clothes by hand and there was no detergent around.

"What's wrong with you? You're constipated or is the toilet clogged?"

The officer who had just returned asked, seeing how the younger man hunched with his hands over his head as if someone had just died.

"Worse!"

The fop who was on the brink of breaking down and crying said in a broken voice.

"...I have no clean clothes left to wear."

Once he finished the sentence, the captain almost flipped over.

"So you wash the clothes. It's simple."

"That's not simple! I don't know how to wash the clothes!"

Phupha slapped his forehead not too gently. How could he forget that this city boy was incapable of taking care of himself?

All he could do was play with an expensive mobile phone. The captain shook his head in exasperation and walked to pull out some spare clothes from his sporting travelling bag.

"You can wear mine. I'll take you to the waterfall."

Thien looked at the crumpled, faded green Khaki t-shirt with Phra Pirun, the God of Rain, holding an embroiled discus -- the namesake of the operating base -- and football sweatpants with a loose elastic waist, and freaked out.