หลักฐานในคดีตัดสลับหัว(อุเทน พรมแดง) + 3.2กิโล(จัตวาลักษณ์)
posted on 06 Apr 2011 21:10 by ariasolstice in BookAriasยังไงก็เอามาแปะๆไว้ เผื่อได้เสนาะเห็นกัน,
อะนะคะ - -"
Evidence on head-changing case
(Translated from Uthen Promdaeng’s (อุเทน พรมแดง) หลักฐานในคดีตัดสลับหัว)
The event last night was happened just like a hallucination, a misty shadowy dream during sleep – like a blurred motion from very old film. All Buntherm’s consideration led to one conclusion – the heaven must pity on him, thus sent him such precious gift, never imagined. His love for Suangsuda had been rallying for four years, since the first undergraduate year; since he was just ‘underly ordinary’ man with normal hormonal conditions; acnes, unattractiveness, coiled hair, dark skinned, all negative descriptions, especially his shyness, all in contrast with Suangsuda. She positioned as the top beauty (as called “Faculty Star”) of the fine art faculty, which was just an addition, so compatible with the ability to express, talk and join different activities. Undoubtedly A lot of friends, and… ‘womanizers’ all gathered up around her – it was only that Buntherm’s friend was a fellow friend of her since highschool, he rarely had contact with Suangsuda, and never has counted the times they talked.
And Suangsuda knew that; one night, with friends drinking and partying around, Buntherm was overdrunk and confessed, kept pouring streams of words about his need, telling if death was needed to be traded. And like a crow that picked on berries, it was realized to her later. And she always gave Buntherm a bright smile after that like he was extraterrestrial.
And that is what happened. The man stopped dreaming…before started dreaming, again, couldn’t imagined how happy he will be with her lying beside. Only laughing he could do – she would never care for him, he had nothing in common with her…at all.
But it was like a turning point of destined line. It was just yesterday, she phoned him asking for a dining together, Buntherm couldn’t refuse and his mind had already shouted the answer at the first second, while wondered where did she get his number.
This ugly 4th year suddenly took a shower, prepared himself as far as possible. He, and Suangsuda had a real dinner with many glasses of alcohols which he deeply needed to say ‘no’ but could not. And it goes normal, she was obviously overdrunk – with legs shaking and inability to pace that far. Taxi served them right at her apartment. He ‘should’ end the day at that moment – but she persuaded him another drink which he… couldn’t say anything – for a drunken sense could not work properly.
Half an hour later, they finally started making love, the first ‘real’ bed activity in Buntherm’s life and he completed the ‘critical’ point in a blink of eye. The images of him…and her, naked was blurred… but firmly established in memory, surely he was the happiest man in the world.
Before falling asleep, she confessed about her broken heart, and that act had released her for a while. She wished she can hurt her ex in some way, and this is just good. Buntherm felt a sharp pain, in his chest…and tears rolling down., tried to think positive; at least he just somehow had times spending with her…’together’, grateful enough… So he kissed her softly when everything was fading.
…He had no nightmare during the night. It was the nightmare that waited him and the daylight.
*****
A scream, loud scream woke him up, it was Suangsuda’s. And he was fully wake by the ultimately shocking picture – a room with blood everywhere, on the bed, on the floor, on the wall. A knife showed itself to him, beside it was a thread and needle – all were soaked in red.
Suangsuda caught herself and struggled to pick up a phone, trying to call…she was speaking, screaming and he was shocked. Her condition, her physical appearance... was a bit unusual; the body was still hers, except her head…that was somehow replaced…by a teddy bear’s!!!
Such an extraordinary, out-of-this-world situation!.
He glanced around, and discovered a small teddy bear, sitting near the bed – with HER head connected, she was screaming and screaming and her eyes had shown great deal of confusion. There was no voice coming out of the bear’s mouth so her body moved a bit and carried the phone to her human mouth.
“I was attacked by a man in this room!! Help me!!..” she shouted and exhaled.
“No!! I didn’t!!” he said and it did not reach.
“If it’s not you, then WHO!?!!!??” screamed her anger, and picked up a knife, in ready for action.
“Don’t even think to escape! I will kill you!!, go on and think about your words for the cop instead!”
“But I didn’t!!! I do love you, and you know…” and he shiftily kept looking between…her separated head, and body.
“Your words have no weight! – you and me, in this room ONLY! with door locked. If it’s not you, so is it my teddy!!!???”
“NO!, I didn’t…how can I…” and he realized his hands, also covered with red blood.
“You maybe a serial killer, or like those crazy doctors who love cutting girls to pieces!!!” “Oh yeah, surely you are – MAD DOG!, you switched my head with my dear teddy!! Oh noooooo!!!!!”
He didn’t want her to release such an anger. The sewed line between hers and bear’s seemed not very strong; with that shaking and trembling, it could…be… he didn’t dream to see that.
“Let me explain… I love Suang, and always. I dream of us being a family with kids and a house – but it existed only in reverie since I’m just nothing, a nothing-man… So how can I break everything shattered? this first precious moment with you?... There must be someone who can explain…”
“I don’t know!!! It’s hard to understand mentally aggressive killer?... It’s YOU to explain these to the police!”
*****
Suangsuda was admitted to the hospital and Buntherm was carried to the police station. The forensic examiners broke into her room and collected everything, one of them also went to check her wounds.
Buntherm’s investigation lasted for hours with no ‘lawyer’ to find. Cops needed him to tell everything and he told them all, exactly all from the time she called him, through the alcohols, their sex and sleep.
“Means that you’re completely drunk…”
“We were both drunk, not very much… We still was able to call taxi”
“How many bottles?”
…And he counted silently, and told.
“If it was me, it would be like drowning…unconsciously with that amount!”
“We just took it slowly…we chatted for many hours so it was not that bad”
“What things did you bring with?”
“No I don’t”
“Means that everything in that room belongs to her? Even that knife and thread?”
“Possibly, surely they’re not mine…”
“Before both of you had…, did she lock the door?”
“Yes I can see that…”
“We has already checked the door, and it is in very good condition. No signs of hacking nor picking means there was no third person, so you’re there with her alone…” “…So please explain how can her pick up a knife and…replace her head with a teddy bear’s?”
“I have already told everything a thousand times! I know nothing!! I was just sleeping before woke up and saw her screaming! That was all! And I swear I’m not guilty!!:
The cop shifted the topic to talk about their relationship, and yes he also spoke out all things.
“…So you’re not her boyfriend?”
“No, I just secretly love her”
“How can you…come and share the same bed?”
“She told me she had an argument with boyfriend, thus she sarcastically appointed me, had a drink with me…and did it…”
The cop put his hands on the table “So her action did not really give you good impression?”
“Yes, I mean…I’m a bit saddened. I love her, and want her to care about my feeling…”
“Besides sadness, is it your anger?”
“No, absolutely…” Buntherm nodded and saw the police smile. It was such a…unattractive horrible smile.
*****
His parents left their home, from the countryside to help their son. They were both peasants, working, farming with no background education. All money was spend to employ a lawyer even though there was such a few dried-up information to defence.
His lawyer visited him one day, telling that all evidences inside Suangsuda’s room all pointed to a single man. Yes there was no footprints nor hair nor brokenness that led to the arrival of the third person, but…the fingerprints, on the teddy, on the knife, on the wall were all Buntherm’s. Also the team had stated about this guy’s capacity of separating human’s bone and muscles without costing one’s life, he must know how to slice, to cut, to put together and sew. Buntherm had this entire attribute – he was young, fresh, studying medicines and surgery for four years.
The officer also sent him to a psychiatrist. He was consider a normal man…with great depressive needs. This kind of ‘holding in’ people can commit any unexpected action when the opportunity and moment comes, as a kind of ‘release therapy’, ranging from violence to…attacking helpless victim. Also they had suspected Buntherm’s anger, possibly he was gone out of control and then, chose to teach Suangsuda a lesson.
“I see no way to win…I suggest you to confess” said the lawyer, in silent sigh of pity.
“Although I’m not guilty! I didn’t do it!?”
“It does not matter whether you did or not, but all evidences have pointed to you and you will surely lose. If you confess, the punishment will may be comprehended, to daily life in prison”
“I’m not wrong…I’m not…”
“Believe me…” “…Wish you’re clever enough to choose which way to go, excuses me..” and he walked away.
The day had come. And everyone in the court was readied, the judge on throne and juries, Buntherm in prisoner’s cloth and Suangsuda on accuser’s side with that weird bear’s head on her body, holding her real flesh head alive. Buntherm was then asked everything in details and he realized he was cornered up, lastly he could only replied “I don’t know…”
While his voice was so light… Suangsuda’s words filled the air. She pointed and claimed so heartedly, laterly stated that there is no guy who can watch over a girl for four years except a mad one. His lawyer tried to convince the court about Buntherm’s love for the woman, but it did not work at all… and he was slowly… put closer to the edge of death penalty. His parents were all rained in tears…
…All evidences – his fingerprints, his appearance, his knowledge, his love…
“Again, I advise you to end this up… accept that you’re guilty” The accuser’s lawyer claimed and was halted.
“I did not!!!!!! I didn’t do it!! How can!.....” and he, on his knees, cried and fell to the down with tears and despair.
…And he was judged, as everyone had predicted.
Original : Uthen Promdaeng (อุเทน พรมแดง)
Translated : Lasiara [31/10/53]
3.2 Kilograms
The story started when I decided to try to submit a story to “Nai-in Awards 2010”. There’re several interesting cases for me to pick up; one of those is Plack*, Mr.Plack of Nam-Yern Temple.
* “Plack”, in Thai means strange, weird, unusual.
I bowed my mother’s feet as always, traditionally during a Mother’s Day before took a long trip to Nam-Yern temple, located in far North East. My shoulders carried backpack with digital camera, mp3 player and some papers. Surely that place was not going to have internet, and rarely electrical plugs. So I also took another camera, fully charged – It was heavy like I was heading for a war.
A few photos of sunset and a few naps I took, it was about three hours before the destination. I walked up the grand monk’s house and was surprised about his age, still a firm, early adult guy. I should call him “Luang Por” but “Luang Pee”** was spoken instead. He smiled with tender and welcomed.
“How can I help you? Donating aims?”
I paid him homage and took a few photographs. He accepted my request that I was going to live there for two or three weeks for a project, and could live with the amount of rice after all monks finished eating. Then he asked what was the project about…
“I’m coming to talk with one of the temple’s child; Mr.Plack. I’m going to write a documentary according to his life. Do you know him? Plack…”
* “Luang Por”(“Sacred Father”) is a word to call high/grand positioned monk or very old one. “Luang Pee”(“Sacred Brother”) is for young aged monk (from teenage to early mature)
In my perspective, Mr.Plack was absolutely normal and usual. His cloth, hair, body scent, all physical things were clean and sometimes unusually tidy.
“He has been living here for about ten years…” The monk told me while I kept taking photos.
“Is this his real birth name?”
“I don’t know…” He laughed. “People call him Plack, sometimes in rude way, sometimes gently… so I just follow them actually”
“Have you ever asked?”
“No he only smiles. He remembers it, so simply it’s ok to call him”
“And what about his personality?...weird?”
“Ow!! Absolutely good man” He said with light voice. “All the need of help is granted. He never forgets to give aim, and helps whoever asks him. Good man…really”
“And his family?”
“He stays too long in this place. I don’t know, and never a relative visits him” “But you should try talking to him”
“Luang Pee…” I closed my camera. “Is there anyone sharing his room?”
“No no, he sleeps alone…but why? There’re many empty rooms left…”
“Yeah, but I want to stay with him all the time. I will perform a kind of…deep research”… “If you say this to him, I think he’ll be fine”
“…Are you sure?...”
“Sure” He looked at the monk, and he looked at me…questionably.
Nam-Yern temple was unexpectedly already developed. There were waters provided from a well, and a small river for bathing. Electricity runs through here, with help from the head of village. Beyond the temple fences was a small elementary school whose students were around forty, all were taught in the same big room. I walked around…and saw Mr.Plack at a distance. He came closer and as always, smiled. I greeted him merrily.
“I’m going to live here for a while…and may I share your room?”
“…Luang Pee has already told me” … “I have been sleeping alone for so long. Having a talking friend seems nice. Did you eat anything yet?”
“Already full”
“So then, relax…” He firstly took a step and opened the door, pointed to the innermost corning under a window “You can sleep there, it’s much cooler to be under the window. And I’ll be here”
“Gratefully thanks”
“I’ll go and take some bed spreads and nets. You can leave backpacks and clothes here, in this plastic cubboard. I have nothing in there” and he turned away, leaving me alone.
I looked around the room. I was well tidied up, all things were essential. Nothing was his collection, and the floor was so clean and smooth, no dust on the window or door. His mosquito net was rolled tightly. And I put down my personal things, slowly tried to rearrange and make orders. Mr.Plack then came back as he gave me a few handling tools.
I was asking him questions, and told him not to care about the functioning VDO recorder.
“How long have you been?”
“…around ten”
“Where do you come from?...your original birthplace?”
“I dunno…I can’t remember” He smiled foolishly.
“What? Can’t remember your home place?”
“…I don’t want to” …so I recorded ‘He doesn’t want to speak about his birth’
“Do you plan to stay here forever?”
“…yeah, I have no ideas of other places”
“Have any other names? Your original name?” I didn’t expect any particular answer, just want him to be honest. And yes, he smiled, and kept cutting grasses no the ground.
“Can you really tell me…?” …he was quiet “Can you?...I think there’re many who want to know more about you”
“Plack, this name is better enough”
“How is it? Better?”
“It’s weird enough”
So I lifted my face and took a deep breath.
Afternoon came when I reached the village head’s house, an uplifted floor with traditional decoration and a few wood repairs. Near his house was a gasoline pumper, the only one all around.
“How can I help you?”
“I come from Bangkok to make a documentary here sir”
“Documentary?...are you a reporter?”
“A writer, instead”
“Oh!” he was amazed. “Rarely I’ve seen real writer. Come in come in, please have a seat” he invited me gladly, took off his belt clothes and used it to clean up the chair.
“Thank you” “…Can I ask you a question?, are you free?...”
“Sure!”
“Mr.Plack…” … “I’m doing about Mr.Plack”
“Now I understand” he laughed “What do you want to know?”
“His past, his story…” … “Do you know anything about him?”
“Ever asked him?” he calmly stated, and I nodded. “Yeah, that is why he’s called Plack” he laughed again “He just suddenly came out of nowhere, and begged the grand monk for food and shelter. He’s accepted pitifully”
“So, nobody knows anything about him?”
“I am pretty certain. But you should check out Mr.Nuu at the coffee shop. He knows things real and in detail first, always before other people”.
“Mr.Nuu...who is his father?”
“Ow, he’s around seventy. All his parents were sent to grave” he said… and surely, my next destination was set. “So where are you staying?”
“At the temple”
“Good good…” touched his beard and asked “So what’s interesting about Mr.Plack?”
“His story seems weird, just like his name” …and I took off my camera,
“To put my photo in a book?”
“Yes sir”…that was always my trick; most people love to photographed and published in a book, thus they always give full accompaniment. “Seems like your gasoline is pretty sold out”
“…Well, nothing big.” “It’s not that…Our village is just too small, with just a few cars”
“When I entered the main market, I just saw a lot of cars…”
“Ow, they usually have already filled up from the city’s pump. My station is only used in emergency case.”
“So why don’t you move to the market?...It’s having good business location”
“No, it’s too noisy”
“Oh, well, there’s another thing” … “Do you have any ideas about that ball of clothes?”
“That ball Plack always carries?”
“Yes” I nodded, “I’ve heard he never let it go”
“He never stays a metre away from it, many people trid to ask him but he didn’t say a word, as usual”
*
I woke up the next morning to follow Mr.Plack, as he followed the monks. Recording was all I did along the way, first with VDO camera which later he was annoyed by it, therefore I took only still photos, but my eyes were always frozen on that cloth ball he was holding.
I think the weirdest thing of Plack was not his name, as he never told anyone about his part, but that thing. I still remembered a first moment I knew about Plack, my friend told me after a visit here…and I said
“Why does this man of earth have to carry it all around?...he must be crazy”
“No, he is a normal guy. Probably a bit ‘more’ normal than you”
“His name is Plack?” … “…That’s a fucking cool name”
That was the beginning.
So here, I waited until all monks finished their breakfast, and walked closely aside Plack. I asked…
“Need help?”
“Really want to help?”
“Yes sure, taking the remained rice for free does not look so nice”
“So, help me cleaning the temple’s ground OK?” and he gave me a bloomstick. We walked to the area and swept most black leaves that scattered. It does matter if I had a time alone with Plack. So I finally shot another question.
“Hey you… let me ask another thing”
“What?”
“That…ball of cloth, What’s inside?, I see you…keeping it around”
“…ow” … “Nothing special”
“Why don’t you just place it somewhere, it must be heavy”
“I can’t”
“Why?” …and he fell silent, no response for my question. Later he just walked away, left me in doubt. I don’t know…
I again watched Plack when he took a bath at waterside. The sun was slowly falling down to the horizon, and birds flying back to their nests. I knew I can’t record a VDO, so I took a voice recorder.
“Now I’m sitting here, at the river with Plack” … “It’s…six o’clock, cool weather and nice atmosphere” … “He wears single piece of belt cloth while bathing. He looks good, tall, strong, his back and arms are tattooed. I have no idea about what behaviors heavily-tattooed people should behave, where they’ve taken or else…”
… “All I care is that ball. It was carried at his waist right now…even in bath time, but was protected in a plastic bag.” …
…”Nothing physical or sociological says that he has psychological impairment. With that ball of cloth with him for more than ten years, we usually conclude that he’s crazy…but he is actually not. So there must be a cause, something that tells him to do.”
And I shouted to him “Is it heavy?, why don’t you put it down?”
And he said… “It’s 3.2 kilo”
Mr.Nuu’s coffee shop was not hard to find, it was the only one. I paned my camera to the areas around, from that old crushed public bus leaving away to the shop. It also sells some ordinary goods. I sat at the corner and watched people…then Mr.Nuu came and greeted me.
“Are you the writer?”
“Yes…”
“Chit told me there’s a writer recently coming here.” … “He’s writing things about Mr.Plack…and probably gonna ask me. So…”
“Yes, sure…” I smiled.
“How is it going?”
“Nothing…” … “Nobody knows about him. He kept silent… and kept laughing when is asked”
“That’s exactly him” … “But you’re talking to the right man”
“What?” … “So you know some of his past?”
“A little…” .. “Coffee shop is a place for gossiping and chatting, and I always overhear something”
“Great!”
…his grey hands was blown by wind, “I know that he was a prisoner, but he broke away”
“Prisoner!, really?”
“Yes, I am not lying. You can ask Mr.Dett. His house is behind the prison, around hundred metres from market” … “But Dett didn’t tell me directly. But I thought it’s true, you can see…” … “Have you seen his tattooes?”
“Yeah, …it’s possible…”
“It’s certain!” he insisted “Mr.Plack covers all of his past since the beginning! And guess what’s inside that ball of cloth?” … “Money! Money he had robbed!”
“…so why don’t Mr.Dett arrest him?”
“We don’t have such a clear evidence. Also Mr.Plack is under the monk’s protection, so it’s hard”
“…is it?” I doubted, I did not one hundred percent believe. “If it’s money, or robbed things, why don’t he hide it somewhere?”
“Have you ever heard “The safest hiding place is the most opened place”?” … “Maybe he’s just waiting until the case expiration, then he will escape and live a life”
“..but…but…why don’t the police do something?...or, or why does Luang Pee help a bad man?. Mr.Dett can probably talk and investigate”
“Yeah, but…Plack has already changed a heart, like Angulimala* ya know?, so Luang Pee pitied him and let him stay, as a result from his good deeds. Mr.Dett also knows this…and let things go”
…The sky was blurred, but shiny with moon. Lights through the window painted Mr.Plack’s body, lying in the corner of the room while I was sitting at another, my eyes are again, bound to that bag of cloth. My doubt and curiosity were spinning inside my stomach, the biggest secret was there!...just a little distance from my hand!...if I was brave enough…
And I woke up with muscle pain. I may have slept while watching it. A few exercises made it better, and then it was time for real sleeping.
Oh, geez…I really want to uncover that ball!.
* “Angulimala” is a man that appears in a Tripitaka, main bible of Buddhism. He was a murderer who collected all of his target’s forefingers by putting in a necklace. It was ninety-nine, and one more to achieve his target score, he saw the Buddha passing by…so he followed and tried to kill him, but then the Buddha turned to him and taught him foundation of life. So he changed his way and entered monkhood by the Buddha’s hand, forgiven.
*
I daily followed a roll of monks, I was the last man, behind Plack. This morning was fresh and beautifully scented, and melodious by different songs from the birds. It led us into the market. Everybody was fine, and all welcomed Mr.Plack, as I saw no distance or unusual thing that reflects from their actions. Ten years; he has been a part of this village completely, so I realized and doubted… How could he be an escaped prisoner?
And if it is, their relationship will surely disappear…
And a hand touched me, I looked back and saw a woman around thirty with makeups and clean dress, she asked me…
“Are you the writer?”
“Yes…”
“If you have free time, can you come to see me here? I have a story to tell…about Plack”
“What’s it?”
“…This is a real top secret, my name is Maew and I’m working at a salon overthere. Come and see me today, OK?”
So I had an appointment…
I visited her salon, and that was perhaps the only salon, again…Ms.Maew welcomed me happily, with her new colorful dress and powerful makeups renewed.
“Am I beautiful enough to take a photo?”
“Yes yes” and I took it… this village was so small, that meant news could travel around faster than I have noticed.
“When it’s coming out?”
“…around the mid of next year” I admitted it, or else; lied it. Because it will happen only if I win the competition.
“Mid of the year…” … “That’s too long…”
“I need time to make perfect work…”
“I understand.” … “So, the story I’m going to tell is a top secret” she turned her voice to a whisper.
“Yes…”
“Mr.Plack is actually a murderer that killed a man and escaped!”
“What…”
“Really… my customer told me this”
“Who is him?”
“I can’t remember. It’s too long…” She told, with quite a frown face “It was around the early time Mr.Plack lives here. I guess it is Plack’s relatives, or Plack’s victim’s relative. He just followed”
“And he went into your salon?”
“Yes”
…and I took a deep breath, cursing myself… “What’s next? Why don’t him tell the police…”
“Because all the evidences is with Mr.Plack!, things inside that ball of cloth!, so we have nothing to show the cops” … “And another thing, Plack has already turned good. He’s a real good man…and I think it’s best to forgive him”
“Are you really sure he has turned good?”
“Ow! All the heads in the village for guarantee!” … “You can ask all people here, everyone loves him”
“If he’s good, so why does he kill?”
“Well… think otherwise, the victim was perhaps a bad man, and Plack just protected himself”
“Possible…”
“Luang Por Pae knows everything, he was the grand monk at that time who accepted Plack.”
“Where is Luang Por Pae now?”
“…in heaven”
“Ow”
*
It was two nights before the full moon, but moonlight didn’t help me to clear out all darkness. Mr.Plack’s shadow was quite, still…and moving a bit as he breathed. Right now, Mr.Plack is an escaped murderer, or prisoner. I was going to see Mr.Dett tomorrow to see what’s ‘next’ Mr.Plack should be…
…3.2 kilograms was pressing upon me all the time.
And seemed like I was going to crazy.
“What’s it all about!!” I started shouting… “Just tell me what’s inside!! Why is it so important!!!”
“I won’t. It has nothing with you…” he spoke back while he was wearing a shirt, in preparation for the morning.
“I’m here to make a documentary about you! But you don’t pay me accompaniment!. You don’t tell me name, early life, relatives, and even about that ball of cloth!...what’s this?!”
“It’s my belonging, I don’t want anyone to interfere!” he told before walked away.
And I started a new day with an encounter with Plack. I saw a roll of monks walking out of the temple with bore. Perhaps last night I didn’t take a full sleep, so my mind was in chaos…and it should not be the reason I had to fight with him.
So I said…I’m going to apologize.
I walked from the temple, faced to the market. With these fresh air, slowly it made my mind a better condition. I reached the police’s house at the end. Mr.Dett was an old cop, readied to retire. I stop thinking that he’s going arrest anyone in physical status like that…
“Hello…nice to meet you” … “A writer, huh?”
“Yes”
“People’s saying you’re talking about Plack in every places”
“I’m making documentary, about him…”
“Why it has to be Plack? There’re plenty of other interesting things…”
“Well…he’s weird, after all…”
“So you come here to ask me questions?, well…I certainly know something about him, but I won’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“I kept my words for Luang Por Pae that I will leave Plack alone, I’ll let him go”
“I heard that he’s a prisoner.. a murderer” … “You’re a cop, why you’re still here?”
“Nonsense!” he just laughed. “All you have heard was nonsense…”
“So what’s right?”
…Mr.Dett fell silent for a big big moment, then he softly replied…
“He’s none of other things but the pitiful victim, the one who was burdened, and thus; he’s carrying the ‘result’ with him all the time”
I went back to the temple, Now Plack was…either a prisoner, a murderer, or a victim. I just walked straight to him, he was washing plates and bowls before saw me. And then he returned to his work…
“Mr.Plack…I’m…sorry, for…”
He replied by making ‘ooo’ in the neck.
“I’m seriously sorry for that…I’ve been here for two weeks, with nothing improves” … “If you just tell me something, it would be better for us…”
“I have nothing to tell”
“That’s it…you don’t want to tell, not because you lack it” …. “I promise I’ll not do that again, but…at least! Tell me something”
And it was only silence…
“Oh, gosh…” I held my head and screamed before stepped away. If I need to finish this thing, I can’t lose any more time…I may have to change the whole thing…or else…
It was dark, so dark. But I could see that ball of cloth clearly. I kept staring at it…all seconds were spent, it was tightly tied at the head and bottom. I raised my hand and touched it…slowly. My hair stood on tail…actually it looked so easy to untie…
I took a deep breath, moved myself away and screwed myself at the corner. I wondered how heavy it is…Is it actually just 3.2 kilograms?, is it possible for 32 kilos or 320 kilos…oh gosh! I know nothing!
…And damn! I terribly ‘need’ to know it.
Both of my hands was tight. I wanted to stand up and picked a log and smashed him to death, really.
*
At morning I met with Mr.Sarnk, the only teacher in the elementary school of Nam-Yern. I failed meeting with him for couple or days, until that day which was monk’s day. He walked to me and we went outside. He looked calm and deep…
“I know that you’re interesting in Mr.Plack’s stuffs.”
“I need his story to write a documentary.” … “I can also take your photo and put it in a book too… if you”
“No I don’t care…” … “I just want to tell you that, you should quit it. Leave Mr.Plack alone…don’t interfere with his personal thing, don’t dig up his bones…”
“Dig up his bones?...”
“No matter who’s Mr.Plack in the past, ‘that’ man is dead for ten years. Now this is ‘new’ Mr.Plack with nothing in connect with previous one”
“I understand…” I smiled “But the bones you told me, don’t you think it can be a learning lesson for next generation, to study, to understand things in the past, and thus understand future. His past may means nothing for himself, but it may has an essence for other people, for people who’s gonna take the wrong route like he once did.”
“Why do you think his past is a wrong route?”
“Knots in human’s mind always lead to strange behavior, to reject the past, reject his previous self…”
“You are talking about that ball of cloth…”
“Yes, exactly…” I answered “None of ordinary people do that, but he’s not crazy, not mentally disordered, so it’s not about his brain or physical condition. But it’s about knots in his mind…and he can’t untie it”
“And so you think making a documentary about him will somehow help him?”
“I expect nothing” I fought back with no hesitate. “I’m just a writer who writes and let the readers judge things by themselves”
“And will take no responsibility for consequences…”
“I don’t think there’ll be consequences…” I insisted.
“You’ll be sorry” and he left. I felt bad can not make good relationship with him, seemed like this is the guy who knows something.
I watched the day passed with broken down hope, I’ve got plenty of useless information from useless untrustworthy people. And for those who knew something, I couldn’t make it especially with Mr.Plack.
I saw a man with strong and good determination, a man with good deed he willing to do, it was Plack…and now I sensed that, I could feel that exactly; our bond of friendship we’ve created at the first time had been fallen apart.
I may have to leave this place empty hands, accept the truth that I can’t do it.
Oh shit!, I can’t accept this…how could this be?
I can’t be a loser…
That night, I told Luange Pee that I’m going to back home at next day’s morning, and I thanked Mr.Plack about the room he gladly shared with me and several things, I told him to forgive me if I’ve done wrong, because the next day…I will disappear.
“I don’t hold any grunge against you, nothing…so you don’t have to worry” he said.
Under the night sky, I waited until everyone slept then took a VDO recorder out, turned in night mode, through greeny screen and slowly stepped in Mr.Plack’s room. I stopped beside him, looked at that…mysterious thing; ball of cloth full of questions, before placed a camera…and, slowly slightly minutely untied the thing.
I smiled devilishly in the dark and softly put my hand inside… I touched a rough surfaced object, it was pretty big but hallow thus was not so heavy. Its shape was weird, organic, unsmooth…and there were some small stones and soils scattered inside as well.
3.2 kilograms…I thought…why?
I used my left hand to hold that large object and slowly opened the cloth so that I could see it clearly, and record it clearly.
Then, Mr.Sarnk’s voices whispered in my head…
“Don’t dig up his bones…”
I was watching a skull…
I screamed out, and the skull was thrown into the air and fell to the ground, broken to pieces. My foot was not respond to my command and I fell back. My foot suddenly uncontrollably pushed Plack’s body, it opened up everything and let those pieces of stones fall off and fill the room…
Mr.Plack suddenly woke up and sat. I couldn’t remember what was happened after that… it was Mr.Plack with his tears all over and he kept screaming in madness.
My consciousness faded away.
*
Sounds of different sequences woke me up, I saw the whole temple lightened up with flashlight of people. Luang Pee was watching me from side, and I found myself sleeping on the temple pavilion.
“Are you OK?...” He asked me with pitying voice. I felt like a monk teaching me… the memory of the skull was return. I pushed myself up and looked around…
“What happened?”
“I should be the one who asks you that…”
“I….” I could say only a word. Everything flooded into my mind; what I have done?, I asked myself repeatedly… what I have done?...
“Plack ran away like a mad man.” … “He kept shouting “mother! mother!” and cried”
“Mother…”
“Yes,” … “And his room is filled with dusty bones of the dead… so what happened?”
…and I started to cry.
No one had a sleep that night. Everyone was in search of Mr.Plack until morning, but there was no sign. I kept sitting with tire and stillness on the pavilion, pitied myself, cursed myself…I felt myself a useless, mindless man, such a beast.
“Luang Pee lied to me… Luange pee should have told me…” I said gently, my tears were all dried up.
“I have no choice…” he said “I have my words with Mr.Plack that I’ll keep his story alone, sealed it forever”
“…So what is this all about?”
“…Well,…it can’t be held back” … “He had his karma* and now it has returned… He once had another name which I have forgotten, since he had a new identity. But his past was well remembered; During his teenage, he kept playing around and suddenly addicted to drugs, and when money ran out he stole things in his own house, or even tried to be a drug dealer.”
“So, those tattoos…he received them from a prison?”
“Yes, he was imprisoned…but when was released, he returned to ‘it’. His family had got only his mother, and like she was burning in flame, she took him to the doctor and tried to make him rehab. It was temporally cured… and then, it was a cycle”
I was silent…
“In the end, all money was gone… The mother tried every possibilities to cure him, loaned a bank to help him…but he kept consuming drugs and drugs, until nothing was left. One day the mother didn’t pay him…and with evil possessed, he consciously killed his mother.”
“He killed his mom…”
“It’s the drug that killed her, not him…He was again in prison for years, ten tears… He finally recovered himself during that time and kept thinking about mother…”
“…and those bones…”
“He had been consuming drugs for a long time, so somehow, you know…it may affected some part of his brain or nervous system. He kept thinking what he’s going to do…and when the freedom came, he did it.”
“He dug up his mom’s bones?”
“Yes…I though his mom was pregnant for nine months until he was born, how his mom suffered through her life time…so he was going to be pregnant with his mom, he’ll carry his mom through the whole of his life. That’s it…why he ties a ball of cloth with himself all the time, and ran to live in this temple, ten years ago.”
I was shocked…
“Do you know why it is 3.2 kilograms?...” … “He was born 3.2 kilograms at birth”
* ‘He has his karma’ in Buddhist belief, our actions are called ‘karma’ and thus make consequences, and metaphysically those consequences can jump across incarnations. ‘He has karma’ somehow means he has not paid all consequences he ‘deserves’ yet.
*
I went back to Bangkok in confusion, or emptiness, like a part of my soul was taken away… I kept thinking about everything through ten hours I took, the cries, the screaming. I cursed myself, for what’ve done wrong, I’ve explored some forbidden part of his life in order just to write a thing and never had a though I was ‘hurting’ him, Mr.Plack.
I’ve hurt everyone around Plack, I destroyed faith and happy relationship between them, some of them dreamed of being photographed and published, had a chance to tell swinging made-up stories or what so ever, I totally destroyed my worthiness and trusts they gave to me…
And I can’t be forgiven, there is no Plack anymore, no one found him.
I sat inside a burial ceremony of Mr.Plack’s mother…
And I somehow…thought about my mother…instead.
Original : Jatwarak/Pornsask Uratchatchairat (จัตวาลักษณ์/พรศักดิ์ อุรัทฉัทชัยรัตน์)
Translated : Lasiara [6/4/2554]
edit @ 6 Apr 2011 21:17:41 by Icia
