In the still of the night, within the quiet rooms of Pinyo's parsonage, a woman appeared in his dream. She was dressed in a simple white blouse and a traditional Thai skirt, seated with her hands clasped in worship at the foot of the entrance stairs. From above, Pinyo looked down at her, a familiar warmth mixing with a sense of distance.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, Khae,” he said gently. The woman, Khae-khai, prostrated herself three times before lifting her face. A faint smile crossed her lips, though her once-beautiful eyes were now weary, tinged with sorrow.
“Hello, Luang Phee,” she replied softly. Khae, or Khae-khai, had been Pinyo’s late wife. She had passed away over seven years ago but lingered close to her child, too worried to move on. Often, she would visit his dreams to share stories like these.
“What brings you this time, Khae?” Pinyo asked, a hint of worry in his tone.
“Luang Phee, please don’t let Khem return here,” Khae’s voice trembled.
“Why is that?” he inquired gently.
Khae-khai’s eyes dimmed as she recounted the recent troubles that had befallen Khemjira. “The protective magic in the takrut from Por Kru Sake has worn off already, and Khem’s luck has begun to wane. He’s gotten into several accidents. But ever since meeting a certain friend, he’s received something to protect him, to keep spirits away from him... including me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, acknowledging the irony that she, too, was a spirit.
“Who is this friend?” Pinyo asked, curious yet concerned.
“The friend’s name is Jhettana. He’s a student of a magic master. His mental power is much stronger than Khem’s. Jhettana has been helping Khem all along.”
She paused, a trace of hope in her gaze. “If Khem is separated from him during the semester break, I fear that it might kill our child this time,” Khae-khai spoke through tears, then prostrated once more, her form trembling with grief. “Please help him once more.”
As the scene began to dissolve, Pinyo’s consciousness stirred, and he slowly opened his eyes, reality creeping back around him.
Since Khemjira had received a handkerchief with a yantra from Por Kru Parun, his life had gradually returned to normal. Most noticeably, the frequency of accidents had dwindled, and he no longer dreamed of those traditional Thai houses from two different eras. Although he still saw spirits, they no longer frightened him; with the yantra as protection, he felt secure.
However, since that day, Khemjira hadn’t found the courage to draw his mother’s image again. The picture that Jhettana had crumpled, Khemjira had taken to the temple to burn, offering its merit to his karmic enemy, following Por Kru Parun’s advice as relayed by Jhettana upon his return. Nearly six months had passed since that moment.
It was now the final exam period, and the semester break was fast approaching. While hanging laundry on the balcony, Khemjira’s phone buzzed nearby. Without glancing at the screen, he knew who it was.
“What’s up, Jhet?”
[Khem, got any plans for the break?]
“Um, my dad isn’t feeling well, so I was thinking of going back to visit him. Why?”
[I wanted you to come to the volunteer camp our club is organizing with me. Initially, the seniors planned to go to Ubon Ratchathani, my home province. So I suggested we go to Por Kru’s village because there are a lot of things we could do there. Plus, you’ll get a certificate for community service, and I can introduce you to Por Kru.]
Khemjira and Jhettana were both members of the Community Service Club. Normally, the annual camp would be held in a nearby province, but this year, with an expanded budget, they could go as far as Ubon Ratchathani. Jhettana had intended to take Khemjira to see Por Kru during the break anyway. Now, with the club organizing a volunteer project in his hometown, they could use the opportunity to do good deeds, accumulating merit while introducing Khemjira to Por Kru.
At first, some seniors opposed the idea, fearing the project would be too ambitious. But after Jhettana asked his father to sponsor the event, they finally agreed.
[So, what do you say? Will you go with me? I really want you to go.]
Khemjira hesitated, pursing his lips before replying. “Let me ask my dad first, okay?”
[Alright, keep me posted.]
“Okay.”
After Jhettana hung up, Khemjira’s father unexpectedly called before he had a chance to reach out himself.
“Hello. How are you feeling?” Khemjira asked, his tone filled with concern. His brows furrowed slightly as his father replied,
[I’m fine, don’t worry. You don’t need to come visit me during the break.]
“Oh, are you sure?” Khemjira asked, unsure.
[Yes, if you have somewhere to go, then go. It might turn out for the better.]
Khemjira’s heart skipped a beat. “Do you know where I’m going?”
[I’m just saying. Do what you want to do. And take care of yourself.]
Khemjira pursed his lips slightly, nodding as he replied, “Okay. And please take care of your health, too.”
That night, Khemjira called Jhettana to agree and ask him to register for the camp on his behalf. Their departure was set for the following week, right after the exams concluded.
Before their scheduled departure, Jhettana stayed over at Khemjira’s room, planning for them to head to the university together the next day.
“Khem, take more clothes with you,” Jhettana remarked, lying down on the bed and watching Khemjira pack.
“Why? It’s only a four-day trip, right? I’ve already packed two extra sets,” Khemjira replied, not looking back.
“Well, you might end up staying with Por Kru until the semester starts.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Nah. I just don’t want you to be alone for the break. I might have to stay and help with work at home.”
Khemjira thought about it, wanting to tell Jhettana not to worry, but truthfully, he felt a pang of fear at the thought of being alone. So, he hesitantly asked, “Then... can I stay at your place?”
“I mean, you can, but then what? Staying with Por Kru is the safest option.”
Khemjira looked uncertain. “Wouldn’t I be bothering him...?” He felt uncomfortable at the idea of imposing on Por Kru, whom he didn’t even know personally, unlike Jhettana.
“Don’t worry about that. Por Kru’s house is as big as a temple. A small guy like you won’t take up much space.”
“But I don’t want to bother him. Besides, Por Kru probably doesn’t want anything to do with my problems anyway.”
Without warning, Jhettana slapped the bed hard enough that Khemjira jumped. “That’s the look! Remember that expression you just did. When you meet Por Kru, just pout like that, and I guarantee he’ll soften up!”
Khemjira was so irritated he nearly threw the deodorant in his hand at him. “How would you even know if Por Kru will soften up?”
Jhettana thought back to his early days as Por Kru’s student, then cracked a smile and replied, “Well, you’re exactly his type.”
“Cough!” Khemjira choked on his own saliva, grabbing something to toss at Jhettana, who easily dodged it.
“What are you saying? That’s your master you’re talking about.”
“My master, not yours. Trust me, dude; if you want to stay alive, just do as I say.”
Khemjira shot him a glare. “If I do that and still die, you’ll be the first person I haunt.”
Jhettana laughed, pleased by the idea. “Yeah, I’d tear up Por Kru’s ghost-repelling yantra just for you.”
When it was time to sleep, Jhettana laid out his bedding on the floor next to Khemjira’s bed, as he usually did when staying over. His sleeping habits were unpredictable; he always seemed to end up with his head at the foot of the bed, which was why he avoided sharing the bed with his smaller friend, afraid he might accidentally kick him off.
“Night night. Don’t let the ghost bite ya.”
“NiGht NiGht. DoN’t LEt the GhoSt bITe yA.”
Jhettana chuckled at Khem’s sarcastic reply. It was these funny reactions from his little friend that made him enjoy teasing him. Soon after they turned off the lights, silence filled the room, and both were fast asleep.
And Khemjira was dreaming again...
Khemjira found himself in a large traditional Thai house from the distant past, situated by a riverbank. He observed the lifestyle of the house’s residents: a young girl around eight or nine years old playing with the servants, and a noblewoman in traditional attire stringing a garland. This time, the dream was unusually vivid. He gazed at the woman’s face, softly murmuring, “Mom?”
Moments later, the woman pricked her fingertip with the needle. The servants, also seated on the floor making garlands, quickly crawled over to check on her. Khemjira wanted to approach and tend to her injury, but it was as if he were yanked back, transported to a different era’s wooden house with eggshell-colored walls.
As always, whenever he dreamed of the ancient traditional Thai house, he would be pulled back here before he could get closer or interact. Here, he was only an observer, peering through the windows from outside.
Often, he saw a couple, though their faces were always obscured. Sometimes, he saw only a lonely, sorrowful woman dining by herself.
And, as usual, he’d hear a chilling male voice behind him asking if he wanted to stay there with him, but he never responded. Shortly after, he would awaken. Over time, these dreams had become a routine occurrence. But ever since he received the yantra from Por Kru, Khemjira hadn’t dreamt of it—until tonight.
This time, the atmosphere felt strange.
Khemjira saw no one, not even the lady of the house, who was usually seated at the dining table...
A chill crept up Khemjira’s spine, forcing him to straighten. He sensed someone standing behind him, yet, as always, he was unable to turn around.
Khemjira was certain it must be the owner of the mysterious voice that always asked him if he wanted to stay there. Yet, even after a long suspense, the one behind him remained silent.
Usually, when the sentence was spoken, Khemjira would wake up, but this time, several minutes had passed, and he was still in the dream.
Does that mean if that person doesn't speak, I won't wake up?
His heart began to fill with anxiety to the point where he had to break the silence himself.
"Why aren't you speaking?" he asked, his voice laced with unease.
The owner of this dimension was overjoyed to hear that the person in front of it was talking to it for the first time. However, it couldn't speak to send the other back to the real world because a pair of pale white hands belonging to another malevolent spirit were covering its mouth from behind. The evil spirit's legs were entwined around its waist, squeezing tightly enough to cause pain.
How did it get in here? That was the echoing question in its mind. Normally, dealing with this malevolent spirit was already difficult. But this time, it seemed its power had increased, even to the point of being able to invade someone else's realm. This was very dangerous…
Khemjira didn't get an answer, even though he could still sense that the owner of the mysterious voice was standing behind him. Instead, he heard the voice of someone else—someone very familiar.
"Khem..."
"Mom? Is that you, Mom?" Khemjira shouted, his heart leaping. It was the first time he'd heard his mother's voice so clearly.
"Help me, I'm in so much pain."
"Mom, where are you?" Khemjira shouted in panic upon hearing the pained voice of his mother. As soon as he could move, he hurriedly ran to search for her, concern overriding any caution. He didn’t think to look back at the mysterious owner of this dimension, who was wide-eyed and groaning in its throat, Don't go.
Khemjira was brought back to the first traditional Thai house once again. In his ears, he could still hear his mother's pleas for help.
"Mom! Where are you?" Khemjira cried. He ran all over the house, which was now devoid of any inhabitants, as if it had become abandoned. Then, he heard another woman's voice he'd never heard before.
"Come to the pier."
The voice was flat and devoid of emotion, but Khemjira could sense that the speaker was smiling…
However, he had no time to think about it. He remembered where the pier was and immediately ran out of a bedroom, heading straight to it.
Outside, the rain was pouring down. He saw the figure of his mother clinging tightly to the mooring post of the pier, her lower half submerged in the fierce current.
"Khem, help me."
Khemjira heard his mother's voice even while standing far from the spot. Suddenly, his eyes widened in shock as his mother could no longer hold onto the post. Then...
She disappeared from sight as if she'd never been there.
"Mom!" Khemjira's heart was torn apart in that instant. He screamed for his mother amidst the raging storm, starting to run forward to leap into the river to save her.
Jhettana was in a deep sleep when he suddenly heard a woman's voice shouting, "Jhettana!"
Startled, he jolted awake and sat up, quickly pulling off his cartoon-printed eye mask. The first thing he saw was the room's still-lit balcony and what his friend, who should've been sleeping on the bed, was about to do.
"Shit, Khem!"
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[1] Luang Phee (หลวงพ) is a title given to a Thai male monk whose age is around that of the speaker's older brother.
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