It'd been over two weeks since Pundara was stuck in her home, marking the end of the required quarantine period, which was the government's measure to control and prevent the spread of Coronavirus, an emerging disease her father referred to as "Damn germs" much like he would when he was irritated with someone.
Yes... at this moment, Pundara wanted to shout out those words, too.
You damned Heaven! She'd been an artist and creator on the online platform for many years, but when she decided to start a business in the offline market by renting a space to sell fashion and art products in Charoen Krung, spending months designing and decorating the store, carefully selecting merchandise, she hadn't even been open for a year before she facing the pandemic crisis. She was wondering if it was the end of the world.
Well, it certainly felt like it. After waiting in vain for government support and daydreaming that the situation might improve, the balances in her bank account never lied. She hadn't had any income from sales for months. The money from her freelance drawing work was just enough to scrape by from month to month. Eventually, she had to cancel the rental contract with the landlord, losing all her deposit due to several months of unpaid rent. Pundara decided to return to her home... a place that was the fortress of her life.
Even though the house where she'd lived since birth was just in Ram Inthra, Bangkok, she was the same as those people who left their homes and traveled to seek their own life paths. She was one of them until not long ago when everything she'd sought and accumulated vanished right before her eyes.
No... she wouldn't give up that easily. She wouldn't dishonor the title of the daughter of a boxing instructor and the owner of Dejdamrong Gym Boxing Camp. She'd only just returned to her corner with some help from her father.
Even if her father had temporarily turned to being a coach for cockfights.
"Is Mom in the kitchen, Dad?" Pundara asked her father, who was whistling while bathing his rooster.
"Yeah. Well, wash this coffee cup for me, will you?"
She picked up the cup on the ground next to the rooster cage. Dumkerng, the rooster, flapped his wings threateningly in an instant. Pundara recoiled, quickly withdrawing her hand.
"Imma throw you in a soup pot," she threatened back through gritted teeth. Then she heard her father's voice comforting his beloved rooster affectionately as she walked away.
She turned to find her mother in the kitchen, which had been extended from the back of the house. This place had once been both her home and a boxing camp, but times had changed. The boxers who used to eat, sleep, and train here at the camp had all dispersed to make a living elsewhere or had returned to their hometown. The once bustling home was now quiet, inhabited only by a middle-aged couple.
"What's for dinner, Mom?"
"We've got chicken omm[1] and omelet."
"Next time, don't bother buying chicken, Mom. We can just eat Dumkerng here. He just tried to peck at me."
"Don't brag. You were the one who clung to my apron in fear when you saw a live eel being cooked. Remember?"
The young woman smiled faintly before steering the conversation to the important question she intended to ask her mother.
"Mom, remember where I kept my old Game Boy and the game cartridges? I can't find them."
"When you weren't around, I saw they were covered with dust, so I put them in a box with some books on top of the wardrobe."
She acknowledged with a grunt and walked away without answering her mother's question about why she was looking for the game console.
Pundara went back upstairs, climbing a chair to reach the plastic box on top of the wardrobe in her bedroom. An old doll stored in a plastic bag fell onto her head. She was about to throw it away but changed her mind, wiping the dust off the bag, reminiscing about the time her father took her to choose it from a shop brimming with large dolls hanging in front of it. Shops like that seemed to have vanished with time.
But memories of the past weren't limited to just that. Pundara pulled out the Game Boy Color and the Famicom from the box, cleaning each game cartridge and the devices. Deep down, she felt reluctant to pass them on to another collector. In the past, she'd never have been able to let go, but life had taught her that she had to.
Pundara's portfolio and academic records lay at the bottom of the box. She picked up a hardcover book that was still in good condition. She could barely remember that it was her high school yearbook, as she'd never opened it ever since she'd received it.
She flipped to the page that showed the photographs of the Grade 12 Class 2 students. She couldn't help but think back to her high school days. The first thing that came to mind was the coincidence that there were five girls named 'Ploy' in her class, which led her classmates to add adjectives in front of their nicknames to distinguish them: "Prof" Ploy, "Prez" Ploy, "Pretty" Ploy, "Plain" Ploy, and "Punk" Ploy for herself.
How punky was I? Well, you can ask "Prez" Ploy that. Hmph!
Pundara shifted to sit with her knees raised, bringing the yearbook closer to scrutinizing her friends' pictures for the first time. She flipped through the pages until she reached the photograph of Class 5. Her eyes caught on a boy standing in the second row from the back. He didn't look particularly outstanding, but his face was firmly etched in her memory.
Before she and he had attended the same school,
Before she and he became each other's first friends,
And before she and he understood the meaning of the word "friend,"
They say everybody has made a mistake at the age of eighteen. Her mistake then cost her a friendship that she could never get back.
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[1] Omm (แกงอ่อม) is a northeastern and northern Thai dish.