TILL MY LAST BREATH

C1

“I want to eat your pancreas.”

We were in the archive of the school library. While arranging the books on those dusty shelves - our duty as library committee members - Ping Krittanun made an odd confession.

Though I was thinking of simply ignoring it, the only ones in the vicinity were him and myself. Since talking to oneself would be a little bizarre, it must have been directed at me.

It couldn’t be helped - I responded to him, who was facing another bookshelf with him back to mine.

“Have you suddenly been awakened to cannibalism?”

He took a large breath and promptly choked on some dust, coughing a few times to clear his throat. Only then did he start to explain, his voice tinged with a sense of triumph. I didn’t turn to look at him.

“I saw it on TV yesterday - if someone in the past had a part of their body that wasn’t well, they would eat the corresponding part of another animal.”

“What about it?”

“Eat liver if your liver is unwell, eat stomach if your stomach is unwell - it seems they believed that doing so would cure their illness. That’s why I want to eat your pancreas.”

“Could it be that the ‘your’ you mentioned is referring to me?”

“Who else could it be?”

He giggled without looking my way, seemingly engaged in her work. I could hear the slam and rustle of hardcover books being arranged.

“My little organ could never bear the burden of something like saving you.”

“Seems like the pressure’s starting to make your stomach hurt, huh.”

“That’s why you should find someone else.”

“Then who should I find? Even someone like me wouldn’t consider eating my family.”

He giggled again. As for me, since I was calmly and diligently carrying out my task, I would’ve liked for him to take his work seriously too.

“In conclusion, there’s no one else I can depend on but Secret-Knowing-Classmate-khun.”

“So while coming up with your plans, you haven’t considered the possibility that I too need a pancreas?”

“But it’s not like you even know the function of a pancreas.”

“I do.”

I knew about it - that seldom-mentioned organ. I’d read up on it before. Naturally, he jumped at the opportunity.

I heard his breathing and his footsteps behind me, and knew that he had excitedly turned around. Staying angled to the bookshelf, I took just a momentary glance. Behind me was a sweaty boy, flashing a smile that no one would’ve expected from the terminally ill.

Even though we were in the era of global warming and it was already July, someone had neglected to switch on the air-conditioner; I was sweaty too.

“Could it be possible that you’ve read up on it?”

His voice echoed a little, and I, who didn’t have a choice, answered his question.

“The pancreas aids in digestion and energy production. For example, it creates the insulin that’s used to turn sugar into energy. Without the pancreas, people would be unable to obtain energy and die. That’s why I can’t let you feast on my pancreas. Sorry.”

Having said everything I wanted to say, I returned to my task. He was roaring with laughter. Receiving my jokes like that had become a little speciality of his, though this felt a little different.