Free Bangkok Boy by Chai Pinit Page A

shortly be dismissing the case.
    My parents were right. The judge dismissed my case and instructed that I be released on the grounds of insufficient evidence. Despite this, untold damage had been done to my family, who had spent a fortune protesting my innocence. Among the casualties of this expenditure were my necklace, which was sold, and the pick-up truck, which had to be reclaimed. In total, I spent 48 days in prison for a breaking a window. Those 48 days felt like an eternity to me.
    Oddly, I found my university friends the most judgemental of all—they didn’t believe for a second that I had not intended to rob the house. My parents and I agreed it would be best for me to put my education on hold. I couldn’t have cared less if I never had the opportunity to resume it; I didn’t want to be part of a system that, in my opinion, had betrayed me. I returned to Sisaket with my parents just as I turned 22. Yet another year under my belt, and still I’d achieved nothing.

CHAPTER 6
    My failure to pursue a higher education and my imprisonment was broadcast everywhere by gossiping villagers. I decided to become a monk in order to escape the constant whispers and stares. My parents readily gave me their permission. I intended to be ordained for a three-month period, during which time I’d seek to better myself. Thai men are expected to be ordained at least twice in their lives—as a boy, and again in adulthood—in order to express gratitude to their parents by making merit on their behalf. This merit is especially important where mothers are concerned because women are forbidden to enter the monastery; therefore they can’t earn merit for themselves. However, parents can cling onto their ordained child’s saffron while making their ascent into heaven thus securing their own entry.
    Initially I thought I would stay at a temple in my village, but this proved problematic—how could I expect anyone to respect me, let alone the robes I wore, when they knew firsthand of my grievous faults? My lengthy list of enemies could easily use my ordainment as a perfect opportunity to taunt or attack me.
    I hoped to work on construction projects within a monastery because such efforts would procure greater merit. A friend recommended a simple temple in a remote part of Prachinburi Province where only a few facilities existed, so I went to survey it. There were very few monks residing in this somewhat primitive monastery and I liked it immediately. I felt I could make a real contribution there.
    I’d been sober since my release from prison and this was the first time in ages I wanted to do something good, for both myself and others.
    As a novice, I was ready to follow my abbot’s commands. He sent me to live in an old and dirty wooden pavilion. It had only three walls, leaving one side completely open to the elements. My room was covered in cobwebs, and beneath the pavilion there were several empty coffins. There was a black bat on the floor, which is a bowl carried by Buddhist monks to receive offerings from the public during the morning alms. It was filled with various charms and little Buddha images that were covered in dust. I supposed it had been placed there to ward off evil and to comfort whoever occupied the room, but from the look of it, no one had taken up residence in the pavilion for years. What a foreboding place indeed. The sounds of bodhi tree branches scraping against the roof and walls as the wind blew added to the fearful atmosphere. In fact, on my first night I was so terrified, I didn’t sleep a wink. I garnered some comfort from the holy robe I shrouded myself in, hoping that it might imbue me with supernatural protection against ghosts lurking in dark corners.
    It was approaching dawn when I heard a sharp knocking sound. I bolted upright, trembling as I attempted to seek out its source. There was no one to be seen and I couldn’t imagine what caused the noise. Then I remembered the coffins directly beneath the