ATOATS [8 - Epilogue]

Chapter 11

Since the school was burned down, the teacher and students had to cancel their classes. Khama Bieng Lae had contacted the foundation to ask for new sets of teaching equipment and textbooks, which would take a while to arrive. In the meantime, the only thing the volunteer teacher could do was to design a new school so that the soldiers and the villagers could find the wood to build in the coming few days.

There were not many children who lived on the hill and got permission from their parents to come to school -- only some dozens. It would be a waste of manpower and time to build an excessively big school, so Thien employed the old structure, but enhanced it to be more solid so it wouldn't require much maintenance.

The engineering student sighed and rolled on his mattress, drawing lines across a piece of paper. If they had enough budget, he would order fireproof bricks along with fiberglass mixed materials. They were resistant to any fire set on them and would last forever.

Thien smiled at the two rangers who switched duties from guarding the school to guard his hut. As they patrolled by his accommodation, he spotted two men with food carriers and a bundle of bananas walking along the route that intersected with the village. Khama Bieng Lae was waving at him while another unfamiliar young man lifted his hand and greeted him with a wai.

The city boy sprang up to awkwardly accept the greeting. The village chief didn't keep the other man guessing and made an introduction.

"Teacher, this is my son, Long Thay. He's on a short break before exams so he came home."

Thien remembered. Uncle Bieng Lae had told him about the son who was going to a university in the city. He didn't look to be older than 18-19 years of age -- or just a few years younger than him. To get a wai from a person not much younger made him a little nervous.

"Sawadee krub, Kru Thien. I went to the woods with my dad this morning, so I thought a bundle of cultivated bananas for you would be good."

Long Thay said cordially. His handsome face was planted with a heartfelt smile just like his father's.

The man on the hut looked at the banana bundle -- not just one banana but a bundle of it, that he wouldn't be able to finish in one week and smiled sheepishly.

"Th -- thanks a lot. But please call me brother. You don't have to call me Kru."

The younger man agreed to do so and followed his father to the open space under the hut and put the banana on the litter. He raked his eyes over the local, upcountry items that had a sign of use, and turned to whisper to his dad.

"Does he know how to use them?"

He had been in school downtown since he was a kid but he had a belief that city people were modernized and had a different way of life than outback people like them.

"Not at first but now he's skillful."

Khama replied in the native dialect because he was afraid the teacher who was taking drawing paper and walking down the stairs would hear them speaking behind his back.

"My wife made grilled chicken and sticky rice today. I took some for you."

Bieng Lae opened the stainless pinto, revealing neatly-cut pieces of chicken and hot sticky rice, and the sauce on the top tier.

"Dip them in this jaew. I promise it's not too hot."

"Thank you so much. I could just have some omelet, though."

That said, Thien was salivating at the sight of the aromatic food before him.

"It's boring to eat an omelet and fried vegetables every day. If you want something, just let me know. My wife can cook anything!"