The boy twisted his head to look at Arthit. After a few seconds, a strange smile formed on his lips.
On lowering his eyes, he caught a glimpse of the two loaves of bread that Arthit was holding in his hands.
When Arthit caught him staring at his bread, he waved the white paper bag containing the bread in front of his eyes, and asked, "Do you want some?"
The boy furrowed his brows, making no attempt to disguise the look of disdain on his face.
The white paper bag was extremely crumpled, and had a layer of oil and water on the interior of the bag. When Arthit noticed the shabbiness of the paper bag, his face gradually turned beet red. Embarrassed, he retracted his outstretched hand, "It's gone cold." It was no longer nice to eat.
Having walked a few steps, the boy suddenly asked, "You're eating bread for dinner?"
Arthit nodded his head.
After a few seconds, the boy asked, "Are you deaf?"
"..."
Realizing that the boy had failed to see him nod his head, Arthit squeaked out, "Yup." As his reply had come out of nowhere, it was unclear whether he was answering the boy's question about dinner, or his question about being deaf.
The boy slowed down and came to a stop, his brows furrowing in unhappiness. Arthit belatedly realized that the boy had been staring at him for some time, and raised his head to return the boy's gaze. Unable to stare a response out of him, the boy couldn't formulate an appropriate response and simply continued walking ahead.
Arthit didn't bother to catch up with the boy before him and trailed behind him slowly. By the time Arthit reached the traffic junction, the boy was already halfway across the pedestrian crossing.
As Arthit didn't have to cross the road, he readied himself to turn around the corner and return home. Although he wanted to bid the boy farewell, he felt that there was no need to do so.
After all, there wouldn't be any other interactions between the both of them in the future. It would be best if they simply parted ways here and now.
The boy slung his jacket over his shoulder. When he reached the midpoint of the pedestrian crossing, he turned back to look at Arthit.
Arthit stood quietly at the edge of the curb, his posture upright and erect, as though he was a small tree sapling. Standing there, Arthit gazed at the boy silently. His skinny and frail frame was evident even under his large uniform, which billowed around himself.
In the afterglow of the evening sky, the boy crinkled his eyes.
Arthit pointed towards his left, indicating that his house was in that direction.
In response, the boy jabbed his thumb in the direction behind him, signaling to Arthit that he (Arthit) ought to continue trailing behind him.
Arthit's hands slowly fell to his sides. He hugged his school jacket with both hands and simply gazed at the boy from afar, unmoving.
In the gentle glow of the evening sun, vehicles and pedestrians swarmed around them.
The boy didn't bother waiting for Arthit's response, and simply continued on his journey. When he reached the other end of the pedestrian crossing, he turned back to look at Arthit, only to discover that the other was already in the midst of crossing the road.
The boy snorted to himself, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile. Sticking both his hands into his pockets, he continued walking forward. Before long, the boy reached the entrance of a small restaurant. Sitting himself down on a plastic chair at the outdoor dining area, the boy pulled out a cigarette and started smoking.
After some time, Arthit finally appeared before his eyes. He stood quietly at the side and looked at him.
The boy raised his eyes and returned Arthit's gaze. Arthit had a small and pale face, and his long hair were tucked neatly behind his ears yet a few strands managed to find their way out shining like gold in the glow of the setting sun.
To him, Arthit was like a snail – he was extremely slow in all that he did, regardless of whether it was walking, talking, or some other task that he was focused on. The boy could even visualize how Arthit would gradually retract his antennae into his shell whenever strangers gave him a slight poke.
After a few seconds had passed, the boy waved his hand at Arthit and indicated for him to take a seat.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Any......anything's fine."
"Order the dishes."
Arthit shook his head, and pushed the menu back to the youth. The 'menu' was, in actuality, simply an oily piece of laminated paper. The boy glanced at the menu, and casually ordered three dishes.
Arthit lowered his head and stared at the plastic table cover and the oil stains on it, the honking of congested vehicles and chatter of the crowd surrounding him.
The sun was about to disappear. The final, remnant glow of the evening sun shone on Arthit's face, casting a reddish glow over his face.
Arthit couldn't open his eyes.
The boy placed his cigarette on the cheap disposable cup containing his tea. "Which Year are you in?"
Arthit lifted his eyelids. The boy's face appeared fuzzy to him in the glow of the evening sun. In response to the latter's question, Arthit didn't say anything, and simply raised three fingers.
"Primary 3?" The boy asked, displaying a rare moment of playfulness.
Arthit knew that the boy had misinterpreted his signs on purpose. However, he still chose to play along, and slowly shook his head. "Third year of.......High School."
"You have a very youthful appearance, like a little kid." His eyes swept over Arthit, the boy's piercing gaze seemingly able to look past his clothes. The boy commented drily, "You're malnourished."
Arthit felt a red hot wave of embarrassment rushing over him, as though it as a sudden rash that had unexpectedly broken out on his face. He curved his shoulders inwards even further.
Sensing his shame, the boy changed the topic, "Your graduation exams are nearing."
Arthit nodded his head.
Having finished his cigarette, the boy threw the cigarette butt into his cup of tea. He stared at Arthit, "You don't like to talk."
"When I.......I talk, others......laugh."
The boy looked at Arthit calmly whilst Arthit formulated his sentence. When Arthit completed his sentence, he responded with a single "Oh.", without a single expression etched on his face.
After some time had passed, the boy resumed questioning, "Why do they laugh at you? Is it because you're a Little Stutterer?"
"....."
For some reason, Arthit was never angry with the boy no matter how many times he referred to him as "Little Stutterer". After all, he was still able to differentiate different types of tones.
When the dishes were served, the boy ordered a bottle of iced beer. Leaning towards Arthit, he offered, "Want some?" Arthit hurriedly shook his head. The boy didn't insist on his offer and shrugged. The two of them proceeded to eat their meal in silence, and when they finished, the boy fished out his wallet to pay for the meal.
Arthit wanted to suggest splitting the cost of the meal equally between the both of them. However, just as he opened his mouth, he realized that he didn't know the boy's name. "Uh......"
The boy turned his head to look at Arthit. His eyes were extremely dark, and there were hints of harshness in his gaze. He raised his thick eyebrows, "You called?"
"What's......what's your.......your name?"
"You don't know?" His piercing gaze pinned him once more.
Arthit was unable to comprehend why the boy assumed that he had known his name.
"My friends hollered my name before." He stated coldly. "Twice." Once when they were outside the walls of his High School, and once when they were on the street. However, Arthit failed to notice on both occasions.
The boy stared at him for a long period of time. He then slowly raised himself from his seat, obstinately piercing Arthit with his stare all this while. Ultimately, however, he averted his gaze, a deep crease forming on his forehead. He kicked the chair and left.
Arthit tottered along behind him.
Their walk was spent in silence.
The boy swayed from side to side as he walked, whilst Arthit trailed behind him in an obedient fashion. Once in a while, the boy would intentionally turn back to glance at Arthit in a seemingly unconcerned fashion, so as to ensure that the other was still following him.
As Arthit's walking speed was terribly slow, the boy had to frequently wait for him. Once, he turned back and stared at Arthit for a few seconds before spitting out his chewing gum and wrapping it in a plastic wrapper. With a flick of his wrist, the plastic wrapped chewing gum flew straight towards Arthit's head. Stunned, Arthit froze on the spot as the plastic wrapper grazed his ear and ultimately fell into the rubbish bin right beside himself with a loud 'Dong'.
"......"
Ah, delinquents. Pfff! They will always enjoy tossing objects into specified targets.
Once the chewing gum found its way into the bin, the boy immediately turned back and continued walking. Behind him, Arthit rubbed his own neck morosely. Due to the boy's unexpected scare, he had accidentally swallowed the chewing gum which he had been munching on.
As they reached the alley near Arthit's house, it was time for both of them to part ways. The sky had already darkened.
Glancing at the alley, the boy turned back and asked, "Are you scared?"
Arthit raised his head to look at the boy, his gaze clear and bright. The boy's brows furrowed slightly, Arthit's honest expression betraying his internal feelings and thoughts.
The boy continued, "Let's go."
Sticking his hands into his pocket, the boy continued walking ahead. Before long, his ears picked up the soft footsteps that were trailing behind him. The corners of his lips turned up in a wry smile.
After having taken a few steps, he managed to finish out a sweet from his pocket and offered it to Arthit. Arthit shook his head. Once again, the boy didn't insist on Arthit's acceptance of his sweet, and simply returned the sweet back to his pocket.
Soon, they arrived at the entrance of Arthit's house. It was an old multistory building, with the surroundings engulfed in total darkness. Arthit pointed towards a unit on the second story, indicating to the boy that he stayed there.
The boy stuffed a cigarette into his mouth before turning around and leaving.
Arthit had only taken a single step on the stairs when he heard the boy's voice ring out, "Kongpob."
Arthit instantly whirled his head around, the gentle wind fluttering his long hair with ease.
Greeted with such an unexpected sight, the cigarette in the boy's mouth drooped down suddenly. The boy removed the cigarette from his mouth.
"My name is Kongpob." He continued, "Remember that."
Kongpob walked towards Arthit. Despite his slight frame, he was rather tall. His imposing aura was akin to a physical wall; when Arthit raised his head to look at him, Arthit subconsciously took several steps backwards. Before he knew it, the back of his foot was pressed against the stairs, and with nowhere else to retreat to, Arthit plopped himself down on the stairs and hugged his own knees with his arms.
Kongpob stood in front of Arthit and lowered his body. Squatting on the floor, he made sure that his eyes were level to Arthit's before he instructed him, "Say it."
"Say......say what?"
"My name."
"K-Kong-g......Kong pob......" Arthit's gaze was locked onto the latter's face under the dim moonlight.
Kongpob slowly shook his head carefully.
Arthit knew why Kongpob shook his head and sighed. Arthit rubbed his hands together, and focused all his energies on pronouncing the latter's name. "Ko......" He opened his mouth helplessly, "......Kongp-pob......"
"Repeat after me." The boy said. "Kong."
"......Kong."
"pob."
"......pob."
"Kongpob."
"......" Arthit stared at him, his eyes honey like eyes shining with innocence.
"......" Kongpob didn't show any signs of impatience, and guided him slowly. It was as though he was teaching a toddler who had just started learning how to speak. "Kong."
"Kong."
"Pob."
"Pob."
"Kongpob." He said.
"......" Arthit rehearsed the phrase mentally several times before opening his mouth. However, when he opened his mouth, he couldn't produce a single sound.
Kongpob didn't say anything in response, and simply looked at him. Arthit was unsure whether Kongpob was waiting for him, or whether Kongpob was trying to stubbornly compete with his stutter.
Arthit's mouth trembled slightly, "Kong, Pob." Kongpob continued staring at him, silent and expressionless. Arthit took a deep breath, and prepared for a while before opening his mouth once more, "Kongpob."
"Good." He continued instructing Arthit, "Repeat ten times."
"..."
Arthit stared at him.
"Do it."
"Kongpob." Arthit pronounced the boy's name carefully, his voice soft and muted, "Kongpob, Kongpob, Kongpob, Kongpob. . . . . . . ."
Arthit shut his mouth tightly. His gaze interlocked with Kongpob's as the gentle breeze of the night drifted around them. The single step that he was sitting on had some remnant heat from the blazing hot afternoon seat.
Kongpob placed his cigarette behind Arthit's pale ears, his tanned fingers lightly brushing against the side of the other's ears. The minute contact caused Arthit's sensitive skin to flush red instantly. Kongpob instructed, "Continue."
"Kongpob." Arthit opened his mouth once more, and gradually slowed down, "......Kongpob......"
Kongpob listened to him quietly, the shadow of a smile flitting across his lips. He reached into his pocket and found the sweet he had offered Arthit earlier. He tore the wrapper open and popped the sweet into his mouth.
Arthit was still obediently repeating his name, "......Kongpob......Kongpob......Kongpob......"
He had completed the repetition of his name. Ten times.
Arthit looked at Kongpob. Kongpob returned his gaze freely.
After some time had passed, he finally spoke up, "Finished."
"Little Stutterer," Kongpob cupped Arthit's cheeks in his warm palms, "You only said it nine times."
Arthit's heart nearly leapt onto his ears, and he stammered, "Ten......Ten times."
"You have to say it one more time to make it ten."
"No......"
"Yes."
Arthit pouted. He had no other alternatives, and simply wanted to be done with the repetition, "Kong......"
Suddenly, Kongpob knelt on one knee and pinched Arthit's chin, forcing the other to look at him. Lowering his head, Kongpob gently bit Arthit's lips.
It was different from the previous time. This time, Kongpob's tongue slowly reached into Arthit's mouth. The sweet and sour taste of tangerine exploded in Arthit's mouth, and a fire blazed across his face. Arthit's tongue trembled and his face was reddening from his inability to breathe.
When the kiss ended, the youth sniffed Arthit's lips before straightening up. "Since you pronounced my name well, I thought I ought to give you a prize."
Arthit didn't know where to put his hands and feet, an orange sweet quietly lying in his mouth.
19/11/2021