Akirame 2.1 - 愛想笑い(formal smile)
birth
Mili - String Theocracy
Aisowarai(formal smile)
- a tentative biography of Nicha Rapheephat (draft 0)
{CONTINUATION}
RECAP: little Nicha, curious about the meaning of life, has been brought to a certain northern province by the Rapheephats to play the role of their daughter.
I was bored on a Sunday evening,
so I walked down two blocks to attend church service.
The pastor preached the gospel in the northern Thai dialect, which I still can’t understand despite having lived here for two years. I mean, I’m not Christian, so I wouldn’t get it either way, but his dialect still caught me off guard.
Back in that country, I used to attend church every Sunday just to be with her. And, in the same spirit, I went to church this evening to replicate the feeling of being in her presence.
Of course, it didn’t work. Everything’s different, and nothing’s the same. This one is a beautiful Catholic church. Not the ghetto kind I’m used to. I’m a rotten fool. Not the naive child I used to be.
But my only option is to take the good with the bad.
Our guests tonight brought whiskey, and I'm not going to stop myself.
Shall we drink to our failures, my dear reader?
The birth of Nicha Rapheephat
I
Mr. Rapheephat was waiting outside the double front doors carved in floral patterns, smoking a cigarette.
“Show her around,” he said to the servant who drove Nicha and his wife there from the airport.
The servant bowed slightly and carried their luggage into the house, Nicha following him.
A maid exited the kitchen and approached Nicha.
“Follow me, little miss,” she said.
Nicha had never seen a house as big as the Rapheephats’: a western-style mansion in the northern countryside, boasting a large swimming pool, three bedrooms, a well-maintained flower garden, and an absurdly long wooden table in the dining room——all this for two lonely people.
“To your right is Mrs. Rapheephat’s room. At the end of the hall is Mr. Rapheephat’s room. And finally, we’ve reached your room, little miss.”
The room was well decorated——too well decorated for a person with no past.
Once the maid had stored Nicha’s luggage, she led her back outside. Mrs. and Mr. Rapheephat were already waiting in the car.
As they rode down the country road, the darkness outside the windows filled Nicha with unease. Or perhaps it wasn’t the darkness but the three strangers sitting in the car with her, taking her to god knows where.
She peered out through the side window in search of street lights like those in Bangkok, hoping to somehow find her mother’s face.
II
No matter where in Thailand, department stores are the same: unwelcoming, filled with overpriced products, too bright, and too cold.
But precisely because of that terrible sameness, department stores granted Nicha the feeling of familiarity no matter where she went.
That night, the Rapheephats didn't bring Nicha to any place as scary as she had feared but to a wholesome Japanese restaurant in the biggest department store in town.
The menu was full of food she's never heard of and at prices that sent chills down her spine. Seeing her so hesitant on ordering anything, Mr. Rapheephat ordered in her stead.
An overwhelming amount of food was served at their table. Nicha’s eyes were fixated on an assortment of raw fish served in a miniature wooden boat topped with glistening orange salmon roe like precious pearls from the deep ocean.
“Go ahead. Have some.” Mr. Rapheephat smiles.
The raw salmon melted in her mouth, and Japanese rice was far softer and sweeter than any rice she ever had. Nicha couldn't stop eating.
She ate so quickly that Mrs. Rapheephat admonished her.
“Isn’t it fine? The poor girl's hungry.” Mr. Rapheephat laughed.
“If you say so.” Mrs. Rapheephat sighed.
III
Nicha couldn’t tell exactly what Mr. Rapheephat's job was. From what she'd seen, it involved carelessly signing documents, attending ceremonies to give generic speeches his subordinate wrote for him, and drinking alcohol at a table full of strangers.
But wherever his job took him, Nicha was sure to be there, greeting guests with that formal smile. At dinner events Nicha would be mixing and serving whiskeys to the guests. According to Mrs. Rapheephat, having her daughter do so was good courtesy.
Well, that and answer the guests’ questions with prewritten lies.
When questioned, she smiled.
When questioned, her last name was Rapheephat.
When questioned, she loved her mother and father very much.
When questioned, she was a goddamn saint.
You see, the script for Nicha Rapheephat had already been written. Nicha only needed to act accordingly. And this acting gig of hers, as unusual as it may be, didn’t bother her much. All that mattered was that she got to watch cartoons, play with her toys, and read books Mr. Rapheephat bought her.
Author’s note
This part is pretty boring but I’m posting it anyway because done is better than perfect I guess haha.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to write some good stuff later.