'There is more between heaven and earth' a short story by Makut Onrüdi 

The phuyaibaan is afraid of communists. But it is still used today to frighten the Thai people.

Kampan had disappeared from the village. Many thought that Kampan had hired himself out as a mercenary and was fighting somewhere. No trace of Kampan had been seen since his disappearance. Not even his wife and children aged two and four could answer a single question.

'If he really works as a soldier in the jungle, he could send some money. They say Americans pay well,' said the official, the phuyabaan. "Maybe he has another wife," cried Mrs. Pien. Or he's already dead. If he were still alive, he wouldn't forget his wife and children, would he?' added old Pun.   

Just like before her marriage, Kampan's wife had to live with Pien, her mother. She had never made a nasty remark about her husband with a single word. She devoted all her attention to the education of her children and helped mother with the work. The family owned no land. They could live well for a year from the rice harvest, although they had to give part of it to the lessor. But there was nothing left to sell.

It was now a year since Kampan had left the village. He left the house as soon as the first rays of the sun hit the tops of the trees. Kampan was a janitor at the village school. After putting their only cow out to pasture, he cycled to school two kilometers away. But on that day, Kampan set out early as usual and on foot. His wife remembered that day exactly. 'On the way back, take a box of pills with you; they're gone' she called after him.

The head teacher went to Kampan's house once to look for him, but nobody could tell more than that Kampan simply disappeared from his house. "That is quite remarkable," said the teacher to the phuyabaan. 'Well, strange or not, he's gone. No one has heard from him, not even his own wife.' 'But I don't see his wife Rieng grieving for him. She didn't even cry,' the teacher expressed his reservations.

And suddenly Kampan was there again

He returned quietly. His wife only broke down in tears on this day when she had not shed a single tear before. She was probably overcome with joy. The two children were there too, clinging to Father's legs. His mother-in-law stared at him as if she saw a ghost.

Kampan sat down on the floor, exhausted. "Get the phuyabaan over here," he ordered his wife. "And don't tell him yet." Mrs. Rieng hurried and came back breathless after a short while, following the official.

'Good Lord!' squeezed it out when he saw Kampan. "Good day, comrade!" Kampan greeted him. "Say, you bastard, I was on an equal footing with your father, but never with you," said the phuyabaan indignantly. "Sit down first, phuyabaan," Kampan said. 

'Where have you been for those two years,' asks the official as he sits down opposite Kampan. "It's only one year," Kampan corrected him. 'Yes, OK, who remembers exactly? But tell me, where have you been all this time?' 'Abroad.'

'What, you, abroad? That doesn't exist, does it?' shouted the phuyabaan. 'Tell them you've been in jail, I'd rather believe that. Man, only rich and distinguished people come abroad but not one like you. Or did you sign on as a sailor?' "I was really abroad, comrade." 'Go on then, tell me. I'll take you to the madhouse this afternoon.'

'Listen carefully! Now I'm serious! I'm not kidding comrade!' Kampan looked at the man with determination. The two children, Kampan's wife and mother-in-law listened in silence, completely amazed because Kampan was no longer the same man. He had never spoken so presumptuously to people of higher rank. 'OK. I'm listening' said the official when he saw Kampan's seriousness.

'I was in Hanoi. The road to it ran through Laos and Cambodia. I have seen many comrades who left our village four to five years ago. There are many Thai people there.' Kampan said convincingly. 'What are those people doing there? Do they have a company or something?' asked the phuyabaan in surprise. He didn't know where Hanoi actually was.

'Listen! I learned how to handle weapons in Laos. Then I had four months of espionage training in Hanoi, then practice in Cambodia, and then in Hanoi classes in psychology and tactics of guerrilla warfare. In short, we were sent to school and given books to read.' 'What do you still have to learn at your age? Is your profession as a janitor not good enough?' interrupted the official Kampan.

'Dude, listen up. I learned the teachings of the people's liberation movement. They gave me the rank of officer of the People's Liberation Army. My main task was recruitment and propaganda because I already had prior knowledge of this work. After all, here at school I saw how the recruitment campaign went to teach schoolchildren an interest in the book. 

I didn't have much to do with weapons. But at a distance of two meters I really hit the target. I also received a salary, as high as an army officer in Thailand. I will tell you, phuyabaan, why I have not sent money to my wife and children. 

I felt that this money would be better spent on the work of the movement. I therefore returned my wages to the army so that they could be used for other purposes. What do you want to spend in the jungle now? There was plenty to eat and in the evening you go to sleep. Even today I am still an officer of the People's Liberation Army. My job is to recruit people here, in our village, to send them abroad for weapons training and education. 

They need strong young men, especially those boys who still have to become soldiers because of conscription. When they go to the guerrilla army, they end up abroad, just like me. I myself got to know three new countries. Those countries are different from ours and it is better there than here…..”

"Is it as beautiful as Bangkok, dude?" Mrs. Rieng asked her husband courageously. Kampan looked at his young wife and laughed. 'I've never seen Bangkok. How should I know that? In any case, you can live better there than in our village. 

'Well, phuyabaan, what do you think? I will start convincing the boys from our village to go there. And after a short while they are all back here.'

So you are a communist…

"If I understand correctly, you are a communist," the old man said hurriedly. “Just about. But we call ourselves the People's Liberation Army.' 'No. I forbid you, you are not going to betray your country. It's bad enough that you sold yourself. I'm going to get my gun now and arrest you as a communist.' The phuya track stood up.

'Whoa, don't be so hot-tempered. Why get your gun? I can shoot you before you reach the stairs. Don't you know I have a gun with me?' Kampan moves his hand under his coat but showed nothing. “I sacrifice my life. I will not allow you to betray the fatherland.'

'Phuyabaan,' says Kampan, 'it's about love for your homeland. The country needs citizens willing to make sacrifices. The chaos in our country today is because we have so many selfish citizens. People like you, for example, who are of no use to the country. You lie on your back all day and wait for harvest time to collect part of the harvest from the farmers. You live at the expense of the labor of others. That's exploitation.'

"You're insulting me, fellow," cried the phuyabaan angrily but didn't dare do anything against Kampan. Because Kampan had a weapon with him and could kill him without shooting. All he has to do is take the gun and hit him on the head. The official was not a shy person, but knew when to show courage and when not to. 'Oh, what do you mean scolding? I just told the truth. Or do you think I'm lying? You have been abusing the labor of your fellow citizens all along. Like a scammer, you rip people off. That is called corruption. Do you want to deny this, say it's not right?' 

The phuyaibaan gave up by nodding his head. He didn't say anything because Kampan's reproach seemed all too familiar to him, even though no one ever said anything. "I'll forgive you if you change your life." 'What do you want from me?' asks the phuyaibaan shyly and with disgust. The terror for his life was as great as his desire for money to buy a small truck. It had to be suitable to serve as a taxi, because if you have a car, other sources of income will automatically come closer.

'You have to start working differently and stop cheating and ripping off the farmers who have leased from you and the people who have borrowed money from you. You must treat everyone fairly, including people like me!' 'If you want it….' said the phuyaibaan and wanted to get up but Kampan pushed him back down. 'You, Rieng, go to his house and get a pen and paper. He has to put his promise on paper. Don't tell anyone else, you also face death. My bullet is not afraid of anyone.'

His wife returned quickly with pen and paper. No one had paid any attention to her. Kampan wrote down the statement of the phuyaibaan in the form of an agreement. He had the old man read it and sign it. The phuyaibaan obeyed with trembling hands. Then Kampan also signed, and his wife and mother-in-law as witnesses.

Later

"I went to Bangkok," Kampan told his family. Thought you could earn more in Bangkok and I wouldn't have to live as a janitor forever. I wanted to earn good money there to buy back our borrowed field from the phuyaibaan. I worked hard, day after day. But I didn't manage to make much money. I don't have a penny on me.

'What I told the phuyaibaan is pure fabrication. I took this from books you can buy in Bangkok. And Hanoi? I don't even know that. But it's not bad, is it, to bring some justice to our fellow residents?' Joy returned to their faces for the first time in the year since Kampan left. 

Source: Kurzgeschichten aus Thailand (1982). Translation and editing Erik Kuijpers. The story has been shortened.

Author Makut Onrüdi (1950), in Thai มกุฎ อรฤดี.  Educator and writer about the problems of socio-culturally disadvantaged villagers in the south of Thailand.