The Proposal

Lost in translation

"Don't worry. Mr. Traipipattanapong is never late."

"Never?"

"Never. Punctuality and pragmatism are the main principles of his approach to work."

Mew barely holds back a chuckle. Someone, and he knows exactly what his "new" boss is. But a person can change, right? And this should also be taken into account.

It took two months to get a work visa. And for two months, Mew did not allow himself to doubt the decision for a second. But now he is sitting at the reception, occasionally asking unobtrusive questions in English - he does not know Chinese, but in this publishing house, apart from Gulf, there is hardly anyone who speaks Thai. He sits and looks at his watch with a sinking heart: the time is approaching nine in the morning exactly.

Finally, a figure in a light blue suit appears in the doorway. Mew gets up from his chair, not understanding who should speak first.

OK. You were warned about the "intern," right? Did they hide the name? Or, out of the old habit of "I can't-see-further-than-my-nose", I simply didn't ask who exactly would be under your command again?

"Mr. Traipipattanapong, I would like to introduce you…"

"Hello, Gulf," Mew nods with a smile to the girl from the reception, making it clear that they are familiar and he does not need an introduction.

It's hard to guess from Gulf's face what's on his mind. He's frowning. And amazed. And, it seems, either upset or angry.

"Hello, Mr. Jongcheveevat," Gulf greets him in Thai, so that the administrator has no doubts about their acquaintance. Smiling at both of them, she wishes them a pleasant working day and begins to study the contents of the email.

"Follow me" with a nod, Gulf invites Mew into his office.

Once inside, he closes the door tightly and abruptly turns to Mew standing near his workplace:

"I'm not going to ask why you're here, how you did it all, and so on, because I am sure I'll guess the answer.… But you will go to the administrator right now and write a quit report."

"Why?"

"Why? Let's think about what kind of application you should write so that we never cross paths with you again."

"Gulf, what are you talking about, huh? I've been waiting for this damn visa for two months, I applied on the same day that you kicked me out, somehow found out about your new place of work, and now you want me to just give up everything?"

"You carried out these machinations behind my back! This, you know, smacks of fraud. By the way, according to the laws of this state, you can fly in for an impressive period of time for such an article. Being here on a work visa, you fall under the jurisdiction of China. How do you like this arrangement?"

"Oh, how you scared me, Gulf! Fraud? And what is my crime? And whose cow would low, dear Gulf, whose would!"

Again that frown crease between the eyebrows.

"So what exactly did I do wrong, Gulf? And what is my crime anyway? And also, you know, I doubt something already, as if you didn't know who came to train under you."

"I hoped until the last that it was your full namesake."

"Yeah. Also a random doppelganger, right, Gulf? My photo was attached to the resume."

It is impossible to look at Gulf without a smile. His anger looks so unnatural.

"Jeez, Gulf, what's wrong with you? Well, what happened out of the ordinary? Ugh? You are the boss, I am the subordinate. What's wrong?"

Gulf straightens his hitherto slightly hunched back, puts one hand in his pocket. After looking thoughtfully at Mew, who is still sincerely smiling at him, he goes to the counter, takes out a thick folder with documents from it and throws it on the table under Mew's nose:

"I'll give you two hours to sort the manuscripts by genre categories."

Mew brings the folder to his face, his eyes instantly widen:

"Mmm... are they... in Chinese?"

"Yes. As you can see. Does it surprise you that, having got a job in a publishing house in China, you will have to deal with the Chinese language?"

"But…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, probably, by your arrival, everyone urgently had to learn Thai?"

"Stop being such a jerk, Gulf. Actually, I was told that they specifically put me under your command, since you are the only one in the company who speaks Thai, and most of my work will take place with English-language texts."

"Do they put it on purpose? Oh, yes! I believe it willingly, Mew. After all, you have nothing to do with it at all. The main part of the job? Well, then we will assume that this is not the main one. Is that clear?"

"Come on, Gulf.

"No, Mew. Two hours. And if you fail, you will receive the first reprimand with entry into the employee's personal card today. It's strict here, keep in mind."

"Pfft, and how should I do it? Learn Chinese in an hour, so that in the second hour you can dig through something that even you would have been sitting with for two days?"

"Think of it. You're capable of even more, aren't you?"

Raising an eyebrow haughtily, Gulf, with a cavalry bearing, leaves Mew alone.

***

"And?"

"Your assignment has been completed, Mr. Tripipattanapong."

Gulf looks up from the monitor screen. In front of him there's a folder on rings, where manuscripts are collected by genre. As instructed. After reviewing several of them, he narrows his eyes and looks suspiciously at his "subordinate":

"How did you do it?"

"What's the difference? I did it, right?"

"Did someone help you?"

"Are you serious? Who?"

"I don't know. Probably charmed our administrator. She's unmarried, by the way, so take a closer look, Mew."

"I've already looked closely, Gulf. To whom it is necessary. I've been looking at him for a long time. Only for some reason you're still stubborn."

"You are free."

"No more errands for today?"

Gulf gets up from the table and walks to the window, standing with his back to Mew:

"You heard me. You can be free.

Mew goes to him. Standing very close, quietly interested:

"It's been so long since we've seen each other. Maybe we'll go somewhere in the evening, sit, drink, chat, eh?"

"I have a lot of work to do, Mew. You can go now. How many times do I have to tell you again to make you understand?

"I missed you so much..." Mew's palms slide over his shoulders.

Gulf does not have time to react, as another employee appears in the doorway. Mew almost bounces off. Muttering an apology, he hurriedly leaves the office.

A month of the most unthinkable assignments. Gulf is testing him for strength. But Mew wasn't ready for that either.

Perhaps.

Except for one thing.

One Friday evening, he discovers a postcard in his jacket pocket, on the back of which there is a set of numbers, from which it is easy to make up the coordinates of some place. And ps: exactly at 7 pm, the dress code is free (don't repeat my mistake).