Winston's Wet Book

Day 1

I hope this makes it out in one.

My name’s Winston Garret. I’m an employee at H&M. Well, I was. Now I mine and sell dirt for a living. I know I wrote “Day 1”, but I decided today to write in my favorite leatherbound book; I felt hopeful after a droplet splattered my forehead when I was half awake. It had been exactly 1,946 days since I was thrown into this room and met this alcove and many unfortunate men like me, whose language I do not speak, but I was certain it was Thai.

The sole purpose I came to the Land of Smiles was to be one with its beaches and let its renowned spicy food burn my tongue numb. The thought of going back to the same job – having to fold clothes of the night before and talk to strangers who would at times throw tantrums, having to wish them “a good day” when they ought to wish me “a fantastic day, week” and having to smile at them when they roll their eyes or huff and walk away – was dragging me down to hell. But now I wish I was in hell.

Thailand gave me a gift. It gave me a permanent-resident status by making a volcano erupt and take the lives of most people here and destroy places. The Hat Yai airport was one of the blazed places. I thought I’d either die in flames or be lifted to the sky by angels. Well, I lived, but I was further away from the sky and too close to the land.

Only a few were witty enough to escape underground. I wasn’t witty, but I was forced to come down here – they seized me, tied me up too tightly and tossed me down a hole in the ground, along with a great deal of other Thais. Kilometers deep underground. The witty Thais decided role-playing was the best solution when the land wasn’t habitable and below it were hundreds of people cramped up. They would play the role of shepherds, and they managed to convince the rest that they were sheep. I guess I’m a sheep now…

I’m writing this in the only alcove in the bunker, with my only Thai mate, Chai, staring at me as if I have a tarantula on my forehead. Well, the droplet was darkened with dirt, and it had probably spread across my forehead now. That checks out. I have a tarantula on my face.

I have no idea if the sun is battling the heat of the lava flowing kilometers above or if its chum, the moon, is doing the work. But judging from the yawns from around the room, it’s rather deep into the night.

Chai taught me how to say “chicken” in Thai earlier today. It’s gai. Or is it kai? I think it’s kai. Now I’ll catch some z’s and find a kai in my dream.

Day 2

I’m in the alcove again. Today was unusually tough. The shepherds had us dig two pool-sized holes. They said the lava from above is hot enough to heat the air down here, which would create moisture. Then, when the dirt is too full of moisture, ponds will form on the dirt floor and the roof. Soon, there will be enough water for us to all drink and bathe and grow crops. Not sure what their “soon” meant, but I believe they were right. They are the shepherds after all; yesterday’s tarantula may really be a sign of hope.

The other group was tasked with expanding the area. They had to dig with anything hard enough. Some were struggling with wooden toothpicks. Some were breezing through with glass shards. Many were still using their bare hands. I never had to worry if my tool will break or will it break me. I had a pan at my disposal. Not the best, but not the worse. Guess what Chai had. He had a metal spoon. The one used for stirring coffee. And he was assigned to expand the area. Bless him.

When I had finished wearing away my pan, I climbed up the left empty pool, gripping a bag full of dirt with my right hand, and made for the office cubicle-wide grocer. I received two half-filled glasses of water for my bag ‘o dirt (why wouldn’t they just give me one glass? A business strategy perhaps? Give more low-quality products to make the customer feel as if they’re lucky, but still sell at the same price. It’s too obvious with the water, but I’ll try it on the Americans when I get back to LA). I also received two slices of bread with the tastiest spread they had (olive oil spread) as a commendation for diligence. I wolfed the slices down and washed them with water. My lunch was as bland as the act of chipping away dirt for hours, every day. Loneliness crept in, so I decided to find Chai. Minutes piled up into hours. It was an impossible task. They all looked the same with their backs turned towards me. Their dirt-covered clothes almost made them look as if they were part of the dirt. As if dirt was…mining itself.

Anyway, I gave up and made it to my bunker and carefully sat down on my bed, making sure not to hit my head on the top bunk bed. It happened before, loads of times. And it was not fun. The floor was fairly sopping now. The shepherds were on the right track after all. I reckon in a few days or so the pools outside will be filled with brown water for us to make use of.

I lied down and closed my eyes, imagining I was in an H&M store in Candyland where the people who want clothes are made from gingerbread and cookies and ice cream and warmth and happiness. A place where everyone had a smile on their face, where they would tell me to have a great year after I wish them a happy day.

I jolted up to the scream from outside. My forehead hit the top bunk bed. Sigh…The last time was two days ago. The streak was broken. Need to start all over again. The voice bounced in the hallway louder as it neared my bunker room. First I saw a shadow and heard a moan. Then a woman appeared and said, “They’re all liars – the shepherds. Get out of here.” She was the first English-speaking person I’d encountered in five years.

I stared at her in silence, happy and perplexed at once.

Someone threw a Molotov at her and yellow flames engulfed her body. Yells in Thai came from behind her as she fell and crawled towards me. In between moans and yells she said, “We. Are. All. Doomed. Down. Here.” She reached for my ankle, but I pulled my leg away.

“I. May. Burn. But. All. Of. You. Will. Drown,” she continued and writhed in pain for a good minute before falling still. The flames disappeared into the air, leaving a darkened body on the ground. Five men tucked her out of the room. And I went back to daydreaming about Candyland.

Later that day, possibly at the same time as yesterday, Chai tapped me on the shoulder and either said gai or kai. We both laughed and he turned to his Thai friends and started talking about me (or something completely unrelated to me). I was really popular among them. They all chortled every time Chai finished a sentence, like he was the best comedian in the world, like his jokes were created in a conference room where great comedians gathered and joked and laughed and decided which were best. I laughed at their laughs, not at what Chai said, not at what anybody said. Man, I wish I had learned Thai before I came here. That way I would know what they were saying. And know for certain if gai or kai is for chicken.

By the way, whoever’s reading this, earlier Chai taught me how to say “fire” in Thai. It’s phai. I guess the woman earlier was on phai!

***

The underground civilization was located six kilometers away from where it was first established, near the coast. They found that the dirt wasn’t much nourished (by falling to find fungi and earthworms) and was relatively dry (by poking their fingers into the dirt) and decided to find a place where it was. The shepherds chose to move toward the source of the lava, where the dirt was moisturized and filled with living organisms because of the heat from the lava. The sheep dug the area in a circle until they found the direction that was the hottest and went on from there.

Days went by. Packets after packets were being emptied. Sweat was stirring the smell in the 6-kilometer-long tunnel, so they decided to settle down and grow their underground town from there. Unbeknownst to them they were moving toward a fresh hotspot undersea, away from the land volcano.

Day 5

In compensation for not receiving sunlight and fresh air, the last two days were brimful with thrill and pain. Every sheep had to expand the dirt. With that came great moisture and heat. And the pools were half-filled before we knew. We were jumping and singing and skipping merrily like children. Everyone was probably thinking, I can finally take a shower. Everyone else too! No more sweaty pits smell down here. Well, where will all the smell go, then? Into our lungs, dummies.

I’m in my alcove, muscles spasming, back aching, arms shaking, but not because I want to. I wanted to keep jumping around and soak my eyes with the sight of half-full brown pools I had dug, but the shepherds, they told us to stay in our bunker while they “test out” the water. Man, I’m glad I have Chai to translate everything for me.

Happy yells sounded from outside as everyone inside the bunker frowns. Droplets were dripping frequently now, as if there was a shower. Tarantulas crawled on the faces and arms and legs of everybody. The bunker was spider-infested. Who would Chai stare at now?

I look under my bed and saw water leaking from the dirt wall, and soon, after everyone had done the same, the water was an inch tall. We all grabbed as many belongings as we could and rushed out of the bunker, to where to shepherds were testing…They were washing their clothes and singing, swimming and dancing.

I could feel anger circling among the sheep as I clutched onto two glasses of olive oil spread. Who would eat bread with olive oil spread? Only those who were sick in the mind. And it turned out most sheep disliked the food; some had the spread in glasses like me. Some had it on their hands, arms, shirts, pants, neck, hair and shoes. After someone had yelled something in Thai – it sounded like phai, but without the h – the herd rushed toward the pool, toward the shepherds. 

Each pool received one glass of olive oil from me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a man trying to burn the pool with a lighter. He had it as near to the brown water as much as possible. Then sheep started diving into the water, grabbing the shepherds and pulling them down.

I had a bad feeling about this.

I heard the roar from the herd…That was ear-piercing. But there was another roar, from the dirt roof – that was ear-rupturing. It started raining dirt water just before the pools were aflame with yellow and red and orange. A surreal sight it was. Then blocks of dirt poured down from above and water cascaded down. I rushed to the bunker room, with water and dirt and floating people and olive oil and Chai on my tail, and went into the alcove.

Last Day (It’s still day 5, only a few seconds after I grabbed my book. I just want it to look dramatic. “Last Day”. Wooh.)

If you’re reading, congratulations. How are you able to read soaking-wet pages? That’s so cool. Are you superhuman? If you’re reading, it will also mean I have tasted the flood at some point. It was salty, so I knew it was seawater. I hope. This means the sea is about to swallow me whole. How cool is that? A whole lot cooler than just seeing the beach or being in Candyland. And, maybe I’m crazy, but I heard Chai yell, in the water, “Gai!” I guess “chicken” in Thai is gai and not kai after all.