WESTTHESUNFROMANOTHERSTAR, Chapter 6: Father – Son
Direk
I looked away from the documents in front of me when my phone rang.
[Little Sperm Calling]
“What’s up?”
(Direk, the security won’t let me into the company.)
“Oh, why?”
(I don’t know, is he new? He said he doesn’t know me.)
“I’ll tell them right away.”
I hung up and immediately called my secretary.
(Yes, sir?)
“My son is stuck at the front of the company, security won’t let him in, can you help?”
(I apologize, we have new security guards. I think they might not know
Khun Arthit. I’ll handle it.)
“Uh-huh, and remind them too.”
(Yes, I’ll remind them, should I cut their salary?)
“No need, I bet my son already gave them an earful.”
(Understood.)
It didn’t take long for my good son to walk into my office. Looking at his appearance, it’s no wonder the security didn’t let him in. Look at how you’re dressed, a black tank top, shorts down to the knees, flip-flops, messy hair, tattoos all over your arms and legs, not even shaving like Jo.
“What the hell are you wearing?” I asked.
“Too lazy, what’s the problem with the chairman’s son? I told them I’m the chairman’s son, they didn’t believe me.”
“If I were security, I wouldn’t let you in either.” I said, finishing up some documents, then I walked out of the office with Arthit. I glanced at the secretary, who stood up immediately, “You’ve booked the restaurant I mentioned, right?” “Yes.”
“I’ll probably come back to the company in the afternoon.”
“Yes, enjoy your meal.”
She bowed in respect. Me and Arthit walked out of the company. On the way, I kept glancing at him. For heaven’s sake, could you dress more appropriately, you’re the only son of the chairman.
“Whose car are we taking?”
“Your car.”
“Direk, are you going to drive my car?”
“Shouldn’t you drive for me?”
“What’s this, thought I’d get the chairman to drive.” I sighed at his words. Arthit walked around to open the door and gestured for me to get in, why is he so annoying? I sat in the passenger seat, and he got into the driver’s seat, in a sports car worth almost thirty million, and looked at how you’re dressed.
“Next time you come to visit, dress properly.”
“Why?”
“Look at me.” I said, because for work, I was wearing a neat suit.
“Direk, do you want to change clothes, to match me?”
“Let me maintain my image, I’m the chairman after all. Even if I’m your dad.”
“Which restaurant then?”
“The one we went to last time.”
“Okay, Chairman.” Arthit said before starting the engine and driving off. Suddenly, the car accelerated, making my back hit the seat. I couldn’t help but reach over to slap his head, “Ouch! Direk, why hit my head?”
“Drive properly, damn you.”
“Complaining.”
“Arthit, this is not a race track.”
“Yeeees.” He dragged out his words in mock protest but did reduce the speed. Because our family has been in the car business for a long time, Arthit has been around cars since he was a kid, he loves this sort of thing a lot, and he’s good at driving too. Would it be too much to say I’m praising my own son? If he were to race, he wouldn’t lose. I’ve only seen him lose once when he raced against his friend named Johan, but the next time he won, they each won once, and they never raced against each other again.
It’s because last night, late at night, he called me. He seemed drunk. It’s not surprising at all, every time he gets drunk, he calls me, acting like I’m his ex. Yeah, at first, I was his dad, then gradually became a friend. Now, I’ve become his ex-wife.
I; Direk has been everything to Arthit.
I’m Direk, Arthit’s father. I don’t know how I raised him to have this personality, but I can say one thing, he’s exactly like me when I was young, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, this damn apple won’t fall from me at all, it’s pretty much stuck there.
Because my father raised me like a friend, he’s his grandfather. So I raised it like a friend from childhood. I don’t know, I wanted to be a friend, wanted to be someone my child feels they can talk to about anything, tell me everything, share everything without hiding, I can handle anything from you and have never been disappointed in you because I didn’t expect anything from someone like you from the start.
I’ve raised my child with a lot of freedom. Look at him, he drinks alcohol, smokes cigarettes, sometimes I call only for him to say he’s busy with a girl. I just say, “Okay, call me back later.” Maybe because I was raised like that too, but I never neglected him to the point where he’d end up a drug addict or in jail. There were times when he was a bit rebellious, especially during his teenage years, but he would manage to pull through; he knew what was what.
Let him live his life, my duty is just to support and prepare him to fly. Once he can fly, let him fly, let him choose his own path in life as long as he doesn’t bother others. When I die, he’ll have a fortune to use. If he doesn’t want to earn more and my money runs out, then he’s on his own. Take care of yourself.
I told him, if I get old and you don’t want to take care of me, it’s fine, just give me enough money for my last days to look after myself. Because I believe if you raise your child well, they’ll never abandon you. Just look at Arthit now. I don’t want to say it, but he’s really attached to me, he’s so clingy when he’s drunk, calling me with “Direk, I’ve got a headache, help me, Direk, I’m drunk, Direk, I can’t get back to my room, Direk this, Direk that.”
Last night, aside from the usual drunkenness, there was something else on his mind. When he spoke about his friend who was killed but is still here because his lifespan hasn’t ended, I realized he was thinking that his mother might still be around.
Because in his life, his heart broke only once, when his mother died, and he’s only prepared to break again once, when I die.
No matter how I raised him to be strong, no matter how rough Arthit might seem, he’s extremely sensitive when it comes to parents. It’s like he’s never given love to anyone but us in his whole life, friends are important to him, he loves his friends, but he’s very strong when it comes to others’ matters. When someone he knows dies, he’s sad, drinks a bit, but when it comes to his mother, he’s never been able to handle it. Just thinking about her almost kills him.
It’s not different from me.
Her matter is a forbidden topic between us.
We’ve never told each other how much it hurts. We never talk about her unless necessary. We turn our backs and cry in secret, but no one understands me better than him, and no one understands him better than I do.
Arthit cried when his mother died and at her funeral, he wouldn’t admit he cried, but it wasn’t sobbing, just a few tears that he wiped away. After that, he probably never cried again because he doesn’t cry and never expresses how much it hurts, so his wound has never been healed.
He’s not that weak; he’s strong to death, but this is the one exception.
He drove to the restaurant parking lot where I had my secretary reserve a spot.
“Why is the restaurant so quiet? Did Direk book the whole place again?” “Yeah.” I answered before getting out of the car.
“For what?”
“Just because I’m rich.”
“Are we rich recently? This won’t do.”
“…” I knew what he was going to say next. It wouldn’t be less than three hundred thousand.
“Can I have four hundred thousand? I want to customize a new car.”
“Which one?”
“Lexus.”
“LC?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the money you won from the last race?”
“Kept it in a safe.”
“Damn, instead of using your own money to customize the car, you choose to keep it and ask me for money.”
“Come on, I’ll return it after the next race.”
“You don’t need to race anymore, focus on your hospital ward duties.” “What?” Arthit said, sounding annoyed. When he races at my track, that night becomes particularly lively, he’s the money-maker for the track. If he doesn’t show up often, it gets quiet, and people start asking for him. So, I’m torn about whether to let him race or not. Even though he’s good, it’s still dangerous.
It’s not often we get to have lunch together. When he was in high school, I would always come back to have dinner with him. At first, it wasn’t like this, but after his mother passed away, I had to spend a lot of time with him. No matter how busy I was, I had to drag myself back to eat dinner and listen to his stories every evening. The gym teacher was very pretty and had big breasts, the PE teacher was old and always complaining, the girls from class three tried to flirt but he wasn’t interested because of their small breasts. In the evening, he got tackled while playing football, his knee scraped, the toilet in the math building had a weak water flow, he failed the Thai language exam again, a rival from class eight stared at him during lunch so he threw braised pork noodles at him, they fought in the cafeteria, the next day, the disciplinary teacher called for a meeting, go see the teacher but don’t apologize to his father, it would ruin my dignity, his school life was full of chaos.
When he went to university and lived in a condo, we saw each other less often. I’m busy with work, so we rarely have meals like this, probably because he’s studying hard too. He looks like Jo, studying to be a doctor, and look at your friends, Tonfah, you’re the last person in the world who should be friends with him.
We ordered food in a quiet restaurant, which I had reserved. I asked about his recent life, and heard that ward rounds were very annoying and he had already scolded several patients.
“Don’t scold them, you’re a doctor, man.”
“They’re just so demanding. There’s still a professor watching over us, but if I become a real doctor, I’ll definitely have to hit some patients. It’s either take your medicine or get a taste of the doctor’s foot, damn it.”
“I’m stressed about it. Will you specialize?”
“Nah, too lazy. What does Direk think?” He asked while poking at his steak.
“I think psychiatry might suit you.”
“Why?”
“Psychiatric patients meeting you would probably feel relieved; you’re crazier than they are.” My words made Arthit laugh so hard he almost choked.
“Yeah, but I heard Fah is interested in psychiatry.”
“He’s suited for it. Whatever Tonfah does as a doctor is good, but you, think carefully.”
“So, how am I different from Fah?”
“Wow, that’s the most shameless question.” I said, taking a bite of rice, shaking my head slightly in disgust, “Finish your studies first, I was really disappointed with your last semester’s grades. Don’t even mention an A, there wasn’t even a B to make me happy.”
“They say to do well to show your father.”
“Because you’re not good, you do well in grades instead.” I sighed again. Every time grades are released, he says the same thing, but I complain just to complain, wanting to try it out. A father must complain about his child’s grades, right? Otherwise, it wouldn’t be like other fathers. Though, to be honest, I’ve never been too serious about it. When I was studying, I got Fs pretty often too before I could graduate, damn it.
After finishing our meal, we prepared to go back. I had to go back to work.
“Direk, I’m going to get more tattoos.”
“Tattooing what?”
“I don’t know, I’ll let the shop choose.”
“Where are you going to get it?” I asked, because he already has a lot, but none are visible outside his clothes. When he got his first tattoo, I went with him, his first tattoo was on his chest, the words:
Direk’s son
Yeah, whatever, do what makes you comfortable, tattoo whatever, you’re Direk’s son, can’t even curse at your father because I’d be cursing myself, so annoying.
“Right shoulder, maybe. What should I tattoo, Direk?”
“Just don’t tattoo my face.”
“Why not? Lots of people tattoo their father’s face.”
“Please, damn it. I don’t need to be with you all the time like that.”
“You’re stingy. Not even this.”
“Sigh.” I sighed because of his annoyance, now I understand how Dilak felt when I annoyed him. Dilak is my father, you know the whole family name now Dilak, Direk, right? After eating, we drove back to the company, “With traffic like this, will I make it back to the company by the afternoon?”
“Doesn’t look like it, why is there so much traffic?”
“Right?” I looked at the road ahead, packed with cars, no sign of moving.
“Do you have to go in the afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
“Call your secretary, tell her you’ll be late.”
“I guess I have to.” I called my secretary to say I’d be late due to traffic, but she said there wasn’t much work in the afternoon anyway, I could spend some time with my son since we haven’t seen each other in a while, she would clear the work and push it to tomorrow. So, I agreed, “There’s not much work in the afternoon, want to go out?”
“Are you inviting me out? I’m embarrassed, a date with Direk.”
“Turn the car back to the company.”
“Kidding, where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Normally, where do you go on days off?”
“On days off like this, I just drive around. I don’t know where I’m going, it might rain.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He turned the car from the congested road to another route, driving along, playing some old tunes in the car, and we chatted.
“Direk.”
“What?”
“Now that you’re forty-seven, how do you see life?”
“Why ask?”
“I don’t know, just thinking about it. I don’t want to get old.”
“I want to get old and die.” I said with a sigh, “There’s nothing special, maybe I’ve become more at peace with life. You, in your twenties, how’s it going? Do you feel like you’ve grown up?”
“Not at all, still rebellious as ever. No different from before, but maybe a little, can’t really say.” He shrugged, his eyes on the road ahead. As the road cleared, he drove faster.
“How so?”
“It feels so scary, getting old,” He said.
“Normal, you’re in a period of change, I guess.”
“Direk, are you immortal?”
“What the hell are you asking?”
“I don’t know, will you die before me? Can you wait for me to die first?”
“Are you crazy? I’ll die first, I’m old.”
“Not necessarily.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Arthit. Are you still not sober? Or is it because it’s going to rain?”
“It…” He sighed and spoke in a softer voice, “Change the song, damn it.” He said, because now the song had moved to “Father & Son.” I switched to another song because it seemed too much for him, as if the matter of his friend named Donat had more impact than expected. I didn’t want him to bring up his mother, so he didn’t, but believe me, he was thinking about it, trying to deny to himself that it couldn’t be true.
He wanted to believe that his mother was still by his side.
But he knew it was impossible.
“I think the song is good. It’s not time to make a change, just relax, take it easy, you’re still young.”
“Yeah, I know, sigh. I damn well don’t like this.”
“I won’t die.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’ll die before me. Or if I’m going to die, I’ll send someone to take you out first, okay?”
“That would be nice.” Said Arthit. I don’t know why, but I smiled a bit. I wasn’t being serious, but he really wanted it that way; he wasn’t ready to break down again, “Enough, damn it, because of that bastard Donat, you are still annoying me, huh? Can I kill him again? It’s so annoying.”
He complained in frustration. That’s how it is when something affects him, but it only lasts for a moment. In just a few days, he’ll be back to normal, give him some time, he’s not like this often.
If you ask if he has anyone other than me, well, like I said, he has friends, but if you’re talking about a lover, I think it’s unlikely. Partly because of his damn personality, he loves freedom, hates being tied down. Also, he probably doesn’t want to feel pain again, so he doesn’t open his heart to anyone, he doesn’t believe in love, doesn’t get into having someone.
Sigh, my dear, our son doesn’t believe in love at all, or maybe it’s because of us. Because when you died, I almost died too, which might have made our son not want to fall in love. Is that how it is?
After a while, the rain started to fall. Arthit likes to drive around when he’s upset or bored; he keeps driving until he feels better. He once drove all the way to the sea, imagine that.
When I heard about his friend named Donat, I didn’t think his mother was still around because she didn’t die from an accident or murder; she died of cancer when Arthit was fifteen, turning sixteen. At that time, I went to every church, temple, sought priests, monks, fortune tellers, shamans, everywhere I thought I could make contact with spirits, but they all said the same thing, she had passed on, her time was up.
I told Arthit about this, and we understood that even if his friend might still be around because his time hadn’t come, his mother’s time had.
His mother is at peace now, and we are the ones left to carry on.
To be honest, if you think this is sad, it’s not sad enough. There’s a little more to it. Not many people know that Arthit is half-Thai, his mother was from California. We lived in California until she passed away. Both of us moved back to Thailand because we agreed we didn’t want to stay in a place filled with memories of his mother; it was too painful for him.
Arthit moved to Thailand to study when he was sixteen. I spoke Thai to him from when he was young, so he could speak it, and not long after living here, he was fluent, even too fluent, using Thai slang in ways that even native Thais would be embarrassed by.
He studied medicine because of his mother; she was sick since he was little, and as a child, he promised her he’d become a doctor to cure her. Sadly, she died before he could even start studying medicine.
It’s sad when you think about it.
He’s the kind of bastard who’s wounded.
At the end of the year, we always go back to California to celebrate Christmas because it’s our last memory of celebrating Christmas together as a family of three, before his mother died on January third. Since the end of the year marks the anniversary of her death, we stay together until the New Year’s period is over before returning. Therefore, whether it’s me or Arthit, no one is allowed to contact us during that time.
Arthit’s friends know this. They’ve agreed that if Arthit doesn’t return to Thailand, they should only contact him after January tenth.
This is the whole story of Arthit, a fourth-year medical student, but let’s clarify again, he’s not someone who wallows in sadness. Understand that he has his wounds, everyone has their sad stories, it’s about how we deal with them. Arthit has his own way, but when he acts like a jerk, it’s not to cover up anything. He’s just a jerk with wounds.
Moreover, he doesn’t like anyone feeling sorry for him. He hates it when people try to coddle him, especially when they think he’s weak. So don’t do that at all. He’s just an ordinary person who’s strong but has his sensitive moments. Just leave him be; he’ll get better on his own. Don’t coddle him unless you want a black eye. I let him drive on, nearly thirty minutes passed, and it seemed he was feeling better. I told you, he would get better. Just give him some time; he can handle himself. So I started a conversation.
“Hey, Arthit.”
“What?”
“Are you going to get married?”
“Wait, why ask that out of the blue?”
“The daughter of the president of NTY Group, she likes you.” I said.
“Direk, are you going to arrange a marriage for me?”
“Yeah, arrange it.”
“Arrange what?” Arthit asked, laughing along with me, “Are her boobs big?” “Why does it have to be big boobs? You should ask about her looks, her personality.”
“Big boobs can make up for everything.”
“Such a cliché.”
“Fine, give her my LINE, I’ll talk to her first.”
“Are you serious?”
“No, just kidding.”
“Damn.” I shook my head before laughing, “You can’t go tricking the daughter of the president of our business partner, just get married, can you? She’s rich, you know.”
“How rich?”
“Johan kind of rich.”
“No way, really? With that much money coming my way?”
“No drama like fathers forcing marriage for business like others?” I said, but saying she’s as rich as Johan was a joke. Not that rich, just saying.
“Why the drama? Money’s good, isn’t it? But do we have to get married right away? Can’t we just see each other?”
“You only think about one thing, huh? Is that all you have in your head?”
“I think about money too.”
“I feel sorry for her, I’ll tell her my son isn’t good enough for her daughter, this is better.”
“Really? Will I look like an asshole?”
“You can’t look any more like an asshole than you already do.” I said, and Arthit laughed again. Seriously, I was joking, her daughter seems to really like Arthit, but I wouldn’t force him into marriage. Apart from him tricking her all day, he doesn’t seem to take anyone seriously. If he ever gets into a serious relationship, I’ll go bow to her parents and give them all the dowry, like, take my son as your son-inlaw, just imagine that day coming.
Joking, I won’t bow, just appreciate it in my heart.
“And all your friends have partners now?” I asked.
“Friends from med school? Yeah, they’re all taken, forget about friends, they’ll fly high.”
“Don’t you feel anything being the only single one?”
“Not really, but I feel a bit left out. Johan doesn’t hang out with us anymore, he just follows North around. I’m so bored.” Arthit said, sounding annoyed.
“Even a playboy like Johan can settle down. I can’t believe it.”
“I guess it’s his first love.”
“Romantic, like something out of a novel.”
“Yeah, too novel-like, it’s sickening.”
“You might be the hero of a novel yourself, with sweet, profound love.”
“I’d rather be a porn star.”
“Yeah, but I for one won’t watch if you’re in it.”
“Why? My performance would be epic.”
“Watch porn with my son acting in it? What kind of father would I be?”
“Don’t be so petty, Direk.” Arthit responded dismissively, not caring much, “And Direk, have you ever thought about having a new wife? I saw you sneaking peeks at the secretary’s chest.” “Hold on, I wasn’t looking.”
“Come on, I saw you, pretending to be all stern but sneakily looking.”
“Don’t slander me, could you handle it if I got a new wife?”
“Hmph. No, if you want me to go crazy, go ahead.”
“Are you jealous, Arthit?” I teased, and he looked back at me with an annoyed expression, sighed as if to ask why I was teasing him. But because Arthit rarely shows such emotions, it was fun to tease him, “Poor you. Without me, you’d have no one, and whether your friends want to date you, who knows.”
“I don’t want to date them either.”
“Don’t say that, you should thank Tonfah and Hill a lot, go offer jasmine flowers to their feet when you graduate.”
“Does it have to be that much?”
“What about the boyfriends of those two? I only know North, you never talk about Hill’s or Tonfah’s partners.”
“I don’t know. I am not as close as with North, because they’re not as vulgar as
North, so I don’t really want to talk to them, afraid of catching their bad vibes.” Arthit said. I couldn’t help but laugh at the image, my son not wanting to talk to his friends’ partners because he’s afraid of catching their bad vibes, “They seem like they’re from another world. I don’t want to get involved. I even pretend I’m not me when I talk to those two’s partners.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, if I act like myself, I’ll get scolded by those two husbands.” We kept chatting casually until evening, then turned the car around, and he dropped me off at home. I don’t know how, but I felt a lot more at ease because he seemed fine. The issue with his friend, Donat, was settled since Arthit won’t get hurt in the same way again. Like last night, he was overthinking because Donat was still around, but if he’s feeling better, he won’t overthink about Donat anymore. I hope nothing else will trigger him. Even though he heals quickly, no father wants to see their child hurt.
“Drive carefully, the road isn’t a race track.”
“I know, you keep repeating it.”
“Yeah.” I closed the car door, and it drove off, and then he damn well did a drift show at the house exit, like he was being annoying. I had just warned him to drive properly. …
Arthit
I returned to my room after spending the afternoon driving around with Direk, honestly, I felt much better. It’s good to move on from the Donat thing, and to move on from thinking that my mother might still be around, what’s the point?
Direk already looked everywhere. I finally managed to shake that off my mind.
But first, I’ll curse at Donat and Meen, they’re so annoying.
Several days passed after that, she moved into the condo, and the semester started for other faculties. I was busy with ward rounds as usual. No time for drinking or racing, just studying, coming back tired, playing games, and sleeping. The noise from next door had lessened, probably because that kid had talked to them. I felt much more at ease.
Yeah, that kid is useful after all.
Donat should finally get his basil fried rice, and Meen doesn’t seem to have any issues, she’s back to studying as usual. I see her sometimes when we go out because our rooms are opposite each other.
Nothing much, just the same boring life.
Today it’s raining because it’s the rainy season. I don’t mind the rain; I don’t find it annoying. Standing in the rain isn’t a problem, and it seems the wind is strong today too. I went out to smoke on the balcony as usual, and just like the other day, I saw the same kid from the next room standing there.
The last time I was out smoking, he didn’t come out to sip beer like that day, I only saw him today.
Many times.
He looked at me and took out his wallet.
“Cigarette, how much?”
“A hundred each.”
He didn’t say anything, just handed me a hundred. I gave him a cigarette and let him borrow my lighter. I wasn’t overcharging; imported cigarettes are expensive like this.
“Nice lighter.”
“Yeah.”
“How much?”
“Are you going to buy everything?”
“Uh, how much?”
“Two thousand.”
“Give me the account number, I don’t have enough cash.”
“Yeah, can you do PromptPay?”
“Send me the number.” He said. I gave him my number to transfer the money using the phone number instead, since I couldn’t remember my account number. Who memorizes their own account number anyway? After a while, two thousand came in. I handed over the lighter I had just bought. I bought it for two thousand two hundred, used it a bit, so I discounted it to two thousand.
“Are you going to smoke seriously?” I asked, because seeing he didn’t have a lighter, I thought he didn’t smoke much usually.
“I don’t know.”
“A Seven Eleven lighter is just a few baht.”
“This one has a nice design.”
“Two thousand and you’re not complaining?”
“I like it.”
“Uh-huh.”
That’s all we said before we continued smoking on the balcony, facing a curtain of heavy rain. Last time, there were too many things to think about, so I didn’t question it, but now, looking at it, the person standing here smoking doesn’t seem quite normal. Last time, he was out in the rain too.
But whatever. It’s not my business.
I finished my cigarette and was about to walk back into the room when I heard the kid next door say something that made me stop in my tracks unexpectedly. “Sorry.”
“…”
Is he talking to me?
I turned to look, confused, but he didn’t look back at me.
“No, he doesn’t miss.” What’s going on…
“Actually, it just feels…relieved. Good. He is not attached.” Who is he talking to?
A ghost? Yeah, that kid can see ghosts. He must be talking to someone in the room.
“Emma, stop complaining.” Emma?
“Emma, since when have you been this whiny?” He said. I walked back into my room and closed the balcony door, my heart starting to beat harder. I sat on the bed and put my hand to my forehead, frowning without realizing it.
Emma…
My hands started to get cold and shake, I felt nauseous, my heart beating faster than ever before.
I immediately called Direk.
(What’s up?)
“Direk, Direk.”
(What, why are you so excited?)
“Direk, Emma.”
(…Arthit)
“The kid next door can talk to ghosts, he was talking to Emma. I heard him call her name.”
(Arthit, I’m not joking.)
“I’m not joking, Direk, Emma is still here, mom is still here.”
(…)
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