Степан Мазур – Tai (*in english) (страница 11)
Losing interest in the fake pines, Tai noticed an abundance of hammocks. Made from fishing nets or rough, woven fabrics, these were a common sight, hanging from sturdy trunks by every café. All Thai people, no matter where they worked, indulged in an afternoon rest on a hammock on any day that wasn’t a mourning day.
The sun was already scorching early in the morning. Few were eager to work under such intense heat. Yet, no one was resting either. The Thais seemed to find a compromise; they worked at half their strength, spending more time in the shade and waiting out the heat.
Heavy labor was reserved for early morning or late evening. At dawn, elderly owners of a beachside restaurant were already busy clearing debris around the trees, tidying up the area from fallen leaves and fake needles, and picking up stray trash.
“Maybe we should help them?” Tai suggested. “Will they pay us?”
“If you want to help, never ask about pay,” the monk chided him, but then added, “But you’re right, we’re looking for paid work. These elders work for their own pleasure. They start it early, before the heat sets in. We shouldn’t disrupt their enjoyment of life.”
“Okay.”
In the shade of the casuarinas, the heat felt more bearable. One could nap in a hammock here without getting sunburned. Silent, breezy, and tranquil, it was a perfect getaway spot. Yet, few indulged in this luxury while the nation mourned its dead.
Walking another mile along paths lined with pines, palms, and hammocks, Dalai Tisein stopped across from a swimming pool at the start of the hotel and bungalow grounds. The first tourists strolled into sight, eager to get some swim after breakfast, undeterred by the high, open waves crashing onto the steep shore, or the absence of lifeguards.
Even during an emergency, the Thai government wouldn’t expel the foreigners, who generated a steady income flow for the kingdom. However, security was enhanced. Uniformed guards now patrolled the hotel grounds, while the military deterred potential looters in areas that were devastated by the giant waves but still had valuables to scavenge.
Tourists quickly adapted to the presence of guards, who didn’t restrict their vacation activities or impose any bans. And the guards soon realized that many tourists were eager to swim in any weather, under any circumstances, and despite any mourning. For many, it was their first time seeing a warm sea, a dream they might’ve saved up for years to experience. Even after what the sea had done mere days before, nothing could stop these people from enjoying their well-deserved vacation.
Tai turned toward the hotel. A tightly strung net protected the pool from the sand and dust, sparing the pool filters extra work. The poolside was lined by cabanas and deck chairs. At the intersection of the sand, grass, and concrete pathways, there was a changing room and restrooms, and an outdoor shower spraying water from three sides at the turn of a tap.
There was also a separate foot shower, ideal for washing sand off feet or rinsing flip-flops after a beach stroll. The coarse sand could be tough on the skin, so many would rather get rid of it before stepping on clean paths.
The sand at Mai Khao was coarse and heavy; another reason the beach remained undeveloped and unpopular.
“I’ll go get a job,” the monk said.
“What kind of job?” Tai asked.
“There’s always plenty of work, especially now,” the mentor replied, looking for something to keep his student busy. “In the meantime, you can complete a small task for me.”
Tai perked up. “What’s it?”
“Catch a crab. There are plenty along the shore. Just look carefully.”
“A crab? Easy!” Tai exclaimed and sprinted toward the sea, tuning out everything else.
Chapter 8 – The Crab
The pool was just three hundred feet away from the beach—a quick walk that all hotels on Mai Khao boasted as
On his way to the sea, Tai crossed a volleyball court where a local was already raking the sand to make it easier to walk on without sinking into sandy pits.
Tai stopped on a rise. Waves rolled ashore, up to five feet high, amusingly tossing bathers with or without inflatable rings ashore. The waves played with the swimmers, rolling them back into the water, or knocking them down as they tried to enter the surf.
Those using flotation aids, like inflatable rings, pillows, or arm floats, managed the waves best. You could only swim undisturbed by venturing far from shore, but today, few seemed willing to do so. Instead, yellow warning signs that prohibited entering the water lined the shore, but these were largely ignored. To solve that, the locals had stretched nets with buoys near hotels, at least marking a safe swimming area.
Tai squatted, touching the surf. His little sister had told him he’d be a friend to all waters; he had no reason to fear the sea. He spent some time listening to the surf and scanning the shore.
Crabs were all around, crawling out from small burrows scattering the beach from the trees to the water. They didn’t care whether they hid two or twenty feet away from the water; moisture and sustenance were everywhere.
For a moment, Tai even thought he heard the crabs talking between themselves.
He listened again. They definitely made some quirky, barely audible sounds. But no miracle had happened. He couldn’t understand them, or the surf.
However, these sounds were soothing, relaxing him. He had no idea how many days he’d need to spend next to the waves to learn to talk with them.
Too bad Alyona hadn’t told him everything. He could only talk to her again when it rains. But for now, he had a task. Remembering it, he jumped up and ran to the nearest crab to catch it on the spot. But the crab immediately retreated into the nearest burrow.
The young crab hunter began digging in the sand to extract the crab from its shelter. But it was no use. The burrow was very deep. His arms weren’t long enough to reach its bottom. And how many branches could it have?
“What is this, an underground maze?” the gray-haired boy muttered.
The crabs didn’t respond. Tai focused on another crab, approaching it from behind, but to no avail. The crabs’ eyes could pop out and rotate in all directions, providing a 360-degree view. Using this, the crab immediately noticed his maneuver and vanished.
But the crab hunter wasn’t giving up. Taking off his shoes, he made seventeen more desperate attempts to catch a crab until he collapsed on the sand, exhausted and out of breath. The crabs just kept escaping him.
“Whatcha doin’?” a Thai boy appeared before him, asking the question in English. Curiously, he looked at his exhausted peer with bandaged hands, who hastily pulled his cap over in a clear attempt to hide his prematurely gray hair, but it stuck out all around. Although Tai had become a novice at the temple, the monk hadn’t shaved his head.
“Catching a crab,” Tai replied, standing up.
They were the same height. The local boy had his hair cropped and ran around shirtless, in shorts and flip-flops. His skin was brown as coffee beans, well-adapted to the local sun tanning it all year round. “Why are you catching it?” he asked.
“I’m practicing.”
“You should be practicing in a training camp,” the local boy retorted, showing off a perfect leg stretch as he mimicked a head kick at an imaginary opponent. “You can’t even fight,” he noted, pointing to Tai’s bandaged hands.
“I’ll learn it someday,” Tai promised, clenching his fist only to relax it immediately. As he dug, sand had gotten under the bandages, and now the granules irritated his wounds whenever he stretched his skin. It wasn’t painful, but it was certainly uncomfortable.
“Will you learn to
“What do you mean?”
The shaved boy smiled silently and walked away toward the pool. Tai snorted and turned away, continuing his attempts to catch a crab. After two more failures, he nearly gave up.
Meanwhile, his peer came back with a large yellow plastic bucket. Scooping up some seawater, he approached the hole where the crab had hidden and poured the water in. Nearly a minute later, the crab reappeared. The local grabbed it as it peeked out of the water and proudly showed it to Tai. “See that?”
“But that’s cheating! I can’t do that,” Tai protested, though his mentor hadn’t specified
“Well, then keep chasing crabs all day until you collapse from heatstroke, Snow White,” the local mocked, pleased with himself for outsmarting the naive tourist.
“
“Silly Tai,” the boy smirked, twirling the crab in front of his face.
“You’re the silly one,” Tai said, turning away. “If I want, I can catch a hundred crabs.”
“Then you’ll need a lot of energy,” the local boy added amiably. “And for that, you must eat well. Get it?”