“How are you, P’Kram?” Dao asked cautiously.

“Much better than before, Nong’Dao.”

Dao looked at the man’s leg, which he had just wrapped with a bandage. He had feared there might be a fracture based on the initial descriptions of the situation, but it turned out to be just a severe bruise. Of course, there could still be a fissure, but that was unlikely to be found out. Dao skillfully applied the bandage, treated all the wounds on his body and patched them up with band aids. It wasn’t the best medicine, but it was better than nothing. The second reason he was returning to his neighborhood was to help the local residents. His knowledge and skills were quite sufficient for that. The nearest hospital was pretty far away, and many residents simply didn’t like going to doctors. There was a high level of distrust toward the local healthcare system. Dao found it incomprehensible. They accepted help from a freshman, yet refused to go to the hospital. Dao straightened up and smiled.

“P’Kram, let me check your ribs as well. You’re breathing suspiciously abrupt and irregularly,” Dao raised an eyebrow  questioningly and nodded for the man to turn over. He took a stethoscope. “How did you get into this?”

“Nong’Dao, as if you don’t know how it happens. You sit with the guys, drink, then you blink, and they`re three somehow already kicking you, you blink again, and you’re drinking with them again. The world is so unpredictable, Nong’Dao,” Kram wheezed while Dao listened to him before palpation.

“This is the third time I’m bandaging you. It’s not the world, P’Kram, it’s because of your friends and your behavior. You’ve never said why they beat you,” he stepped back and removed the stethoscope. “Well, I don’t hear any wheezing in your lungs or in the process of breathing. What do you feel?” He gently pressed on Kram’s right side.

“It’s not painful,” a frustrated Kram answered. “I would have solved this problem sober, but I don’t remember what I got beaten up for. You know, when I drink too much, I become quite irrational.” Dao even stopped examining him and rolled his eyes at Kram's statement.

Dao pressed on his right side, and he whimpered.

“It hurts a bit too much here,” Kram groaned. “Nong’Dao, it seems I fell right on the right side of my body. I hope I don’t have a fissure in my ribs; I can't go to the hospital.”

“If it was a bad fissure, you’d have to go to the hospital. But in that case, you would want to go yourself. I think you've got a severe bruise. Try not to injure this side and refrain from unnecessary fights for the next two weeks; otherwise, I won’t be able to help you anymore,” he finally pulled away.

“Thank you, Nong’Dao. What would we poor folks do without you?” Kram smiled with his half-toothless mouth, and even though he didn’t look great, he radiated kindness. “You really help us. Without bragging, I’ll say you are our pride! The pride of the whole neighborhood. None of your other peers have done half as much as you have.”

“P’Kram, you’re exaggerating. I’m just bandaging you up and treating wounds; nothing extraordinary,” Dao started to shrug off the praise but still blushed and involuntarily adjusted his hair sticking out in different directions. “On the contrary, it’s a pleasure for me to help.”

“We all know that,” Kram waved off Dao. “Modesty in so sharp-tongued guy is a miracle. All the same, thank you, Nong’Dao; without you, we would be struggling. It would be nice to build a hospital in our neighborhood.”

“A hospital, a school, a couple of stores, and a lot more,” Dao agreed with him.

Dao dreamed, as it seemed to him, of the unattainable thing. The neighborhood he and Kram talked about was just a long street of slums. However, there were four other similarly parallel streets adjoining it, and the situation with the living conditions of decent citizens was not very good. Sometimes, a corpse would stiffen up before the police or ambulance could arrive. Also, despite the eateries and cafes, there were occasionally shortages of food and basic necessities. The authorities were trying to fix the situation, but it pained Dao to see his homeland in disrepair. He had spent two days seeing residents and had not used his weekends as intended. He would get up at nine, got ready, and leave to work late. His grandmother would grumble but reluctantly let him go. Dao knew how to hide his exhaustion, hunger, and displeasure when the situation called for it. The next week was going to be really tough. There would be a dedication ceremony for all faculties.

“Khun Prakan hasn’t come yet?” Kram asked quietly, as though he feared being overheard. “Everything seems calm.”

 “No. Everything is fine,” Dao grimaced. “So far, everything is running smoothly, which means there’s no point in wasting time on us  paupers. My grandmother said that dessert sales are going well right now; I'm working part-time, and I’ve made pretty good money these few days. Things are a lot better than they were a few years ago.”

“That’s the main thing, Nong’Dao,” Kram also smiled crookedly. “Alright, I gotta go; I still need to apologize to my wife. I'll have to expose my left side of the body when she hits me, or she'll break me.”

“The drink will completely break you, P; so please stop or look for adventures less often,” Dao stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder, gazing up at the night sky. “That’s all for today; I’m going home too. I have to go to the university tomorrow. Classes on Monday start at noon, so there’s no need to come back anywhere late tonight.”

“When are you coming back to us next time?” Kram asked as he left.

“I don’t know; I’ll discuss it with my grandmother”.

He treated his patients in a half-destroyed building that used to be a police station. The gangsters didn’t come here out of respect for the building's past, and the locals thought the opposite. So Dao used it for help. He only visited those who couldn’t get out of bed. It was no more than a ten-minute walk through the narrow streets from home. And as he walked through them, he recalled once again that he wasn’t afraid to return home alone at night in the neighborhood. In Bangkok, even on brightly lit streets in a crowd, he didn’t feel safe. Sometimes, Dao even caught himself thinking paranoidly that he was being followed. Thankfully, it didn’t happen often.

He stopped in front of the green door. A bit of sadness swept over him. He thought about spending more time with his grandmother, but work and helping the residents had completely consumed him. Dao felt shame. He inhaled and exhaled the warm, dusty air of the slums.

“Grandma, I’m home!” he closed the door threw off his bag. It was only now that he realized how tired he was, that it even knocked the breath out of him.

“Finally, you’re back! I was about to go out looking for you! That’s it; I won’t tell anyone else that you can see them. Just look at yourself: pale, thin, tired, and earned barely anything,” she playfully hit Dao on the shoulder with a towel. “Go take a shower and come back to eat. We have to get up early tomorrow to go to the city. Oh dear, you didn't get any rest at all. And next week is supposed to be tough!”

“Grandma, stop it, I’m not a twig; I won’t break. I’m off,” Dao said.

This time, as he entered the bathroom, Dao covered the mirror with a towel. He'd had enough of the cheeky Niran in his reflection to drive him crazy. He quickly washed off the sweat and dust to avoid wasting precious time. In about half an hour, sleep would start overtaking him so much that only a pillow and a blanket could help. He pulled on some shorts, looked at the towel on the mirror, and decided to wipe his torso with a different one. Nervousness kept him from even removing his makeshift curtain.

“You’ve cooked again, like for a king’s wedding, Grandma. By the way, resting isn’t just for me, but for you too. Let’s keep it simple next time, alright? Rice with meat will be enough,” he smiled gently and sat down at the table. “How are you?”

“You’re asking me? You look like a chao kuai; you’ll spill all over the table right now. Well, don’t come over for the next weekend, and take a break with your friends. By the way, you have friends besides Kiet now, right?” his grandmother also took a bowl and filled it with some rice for herself. “You’ve been studying there for several months and haven’t made friends with anyone from your classmates?”

“It’s just not happening. This year, all the activities for our student council and the medical one will start later. We don’t even know our Ps. I’ve gotten to know Min and Kasem a bit better; they're neighbors of mine and Kiet's. So don’t worry, I think once the initiation starts... I’ll definitely find someone to talk to about studying,” he smiled. “So I won’t be able to come over that weekend anyway. And honestly, I don’t know how their organization will go.”

“That’s good. Let those drunks take care of their own bruises,” Grandma Ri frowned. “You deserve to rest a bit. It’s good that Kiet is quiet and doesn't disturb you from studying.”

“He's always drawing. You won’t hear any screams from him, even if you zap him with a taser,” Dao scoffed. “I’ll still have to come over in fifteen days and bring some money. I think everything will go well this month.”

“Maybe you won’t even have to dangle! Things are going well, Dao, I’ll definitely let you know if I need any help,” Grandma Ri placed her hand on his palm. “You're doing great. Really.”

“Thank you.”

Despite his grandmother's seemingly encouraging speech, Dao still withdrew into himself. He didn’t show her that he was a bit upset by the conversation and suppressed his smile. Then sleep began to overcome him, and reluctantly, he got up from the table, asking Grandma Ri not to wash the dishes and to do it herself tomorrow morning.

In his room, he looked out the window. Only from a certain angle he could see the sky, otherwise, just a tall neighboring building. He lay down on his bed and stared at the cracked ceiling. Dao hated this forced poverty and the fact that his grandmother had to work. He hated it all so much. He would gladly travel to a time when he had already graduated and finally wouldn’t receive twenty baht for a bandage or even food. And he didn’t like making coffee, constantly asking Min to do it. He just couldn’t manage it. He groaned and propped himself up on his elbows. Dao stared at the photo of a man and a woman with a boy. They were smiling and still were unaware of what future awaited them. Or the absence of it. He lay back down on the bed and pulled the blanket over his head.