— Chapter Nine —
Cenat squeezed Vitchae’s hand,
“Are you okay old friend?”
Vitchae was elated and turned his head in Cenat’s direction,
“Yes, I feel fine.”
The Royal Bangkok hospital is a modern and luxurious medical facility. The rooms in the royal wings are the best in the country, which along with its high paying patients it also caters for royalty and high-ranking government officials. Although a relatively small hospital, it houses state of the art operating theatres and some of the countries, if not the worlds, top surgeons.
Nurses rushed in and out to check Vitchae’s vital signs every 30 minutes.
Wednesday 14th December was a day Vitchae and Cenat would remember for a very long time. In fact, the events of the last five days would be unforgettable.
They had travelled for about 20 minutes in the helicopter and landed on the grounds of the Imperial Palace, Bangkok. The flight had been uneventful, which surprised Vitchae, he heard the roar of the engines and felt the aircraft move, and heard only a slight hum after an airman closed the door. And only felt a small bump on landing. ‘Not too bad, glad I’m blind,’ he thought, trying to imagine the view if he wasn’t, birds flying past, bumping into clouds, and maybe even crashing into the sun.
The S-92 was like a small hotel room with its plush upholstered interior, a large seat was raised higher than the others, where the King sat, there were two seats in the front for the personal guards to sit, and then four rows of three, which faced the cockpit, for soldiers, airmen or the other members of the Royal family. Large intricate carvings, and gold leaf covered etching covered the sides, which was of a thick covered velour material, and totally sound proof once the airman closed the side door.
The five soldiers who were in the village, mumbled about fearing they would be stuck in the jungle, and the six king’s escort guards quietly sniggered. Cenat and Taksin were talking, Vitchae listened, while he held onto his friend’s hand for dear life.
When they arrived at the Imperial Palace, they were escorted to the ‘Temple of the Emerald Buddha’. Vitchae and Cenat felt strange, as they had not been to the temple for many years. The last time Vitchae was there was when he was the Prime Master and, he had not seen the temple since his sight failed. Although he still could not see, he still felt in awe by the atmosphere created by the holy temple, which sent a tingle down his spine. They both went into the temple and up to the statue of the Emerald Buddha, arm in arm they stood and prayed, asking Buddha for guidance. They were then shown to the monks’ quarters and housed for the night.
The next morning the two monks ate, studied their scriptures and meditated. Late morning they were summoned to the Royal residence. The King was in the stateroom, and stood around a medium sized table, with five men and one woman. Large sheets of paper had been spread out around the table. The King would ask a questions, and one of the experts would explain something, and point at the drawings, whereupon the King either nodded or shook his head.
The two elderly monks entered the large room and Cenat lead Vitchae over to the King, the party all gave them a respectful Wai. Cenat returned the Wai to the group and reverently Wai-d the King.
“I am truly sorry for the loss of your brothers, Khun Vitchae and Khun Cenat,” said the King.
Vitchae had grown up alongside the King, who was only six years, his junior. Vitchae remembered seeing him as a boy. He came to the temple with his father and watched the ceremony. Vitchae, himself only on his second cycle as a novice monk was 12 years old. He had seen the King ascend to the throne in his early 20’s and had blessed and chanted with the King when he was made Prime Master 30 years ago. Apart from the last four years, they had developed together, although with different lifestyles. On the day of his birthday, the King would perform the ceremony with the monks, chant at the side of the Prime Master and then leave to perform his other royal duties. The monks would blend into the background and follow the King the whole day as his bodyguards, until all the Kings other duties were completed. At the stroke of midnight, when it was no longer his birthday, the monks would return to Pong-Nam-Rom, and home, until the next birthday a year later. The King would never speak to the monks. He was the ruler, the living Buddha, and they were his servants and finest warriors. The King himself had noticed Vitchae for many years. The King never spoke to his warrior servants, but had often wondered what had happened to the old blind Prime Master. The King had noticed Vitchae’s sight failing year by year, and then four years ago, Somchay had taken up Vitchae role as prime master, so he presumed that the old monk had died.
The King beckoned them closer to the table. The six people around the table shuffled to make room for the monks, so they could see the papers on the table. The smiling old face of the King put Cenat at ease, and the King asked him if this, pointing to a large aerial photo of the village laid on the table, was the village of Salaburi and surrounding area. Cenat had never seen the village from the air and stared at the photo, he could make out the Wat, and several things he started to recognise.
“Yes,” he replied, at which point the King ordered the six out of the room, they gathered up all the papers and photographs from the table, and the six bowed and left. When they had left the room, the King and the two elderly monks went to sit on three chairs at the side of the room, next to a large picture window which looked out onto the vast grounds of the royal palace. The King then explained his proposals, while the two monks listened with great interest.
“We will draw up some plans, and you can go over them. Then return to the village and see what the villagers think,” said the King.
The King appeared to be like a shepherd wanting his lost sheep returned to the flock, and into the 21st (Gregorian) century. The same thing he had done with the rest of his beloved country and people.
The King then went on to explain that as he became older and approached the end of his cycle of life .He would soon have to hand power over to his son Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongorn who, although now middle aged, was not a traditionalist. He liked all things modern and had no time for the past, so maybe now was time for the Tinju to step aside, maybe after this tragedy it was time to rethink the customs of the past. The King went on to explain, as diplomatically as possible, how nowadays, the use of technology had outweighed the old ways and he was not about to let a tragedy that had just befallen them, happen again.
“There is too much greed in our world now,” he said.
Vitchae and Cenat sat silently and listened to this wise old King. They both had tears in their eyes, but they both knew the King was right. That had also been Vitchae’s train of thought over the last few days, he had mentioned to Cenat, that he knew the Tinju could, and probably should, be restructured.
“And we are no longer needed my old friend,” he said to Cenat. “Our ways have not changed in centuries, perhaps it had been a sign from the Lord Buddha that they moved on, and now his majesty, living Buddha had confirmed it, we must accept it”
Vitchae knew he was also close to the end of his life, but would embrace this challenge, and enter into this strange new world with the people of the village, his flock.
The next three days were hectic for the two elderly monks, but they had more energy and strength than most people did in their twenties and they wanted to be consulted on everything.
The King had left most of the decisions to them. They would take the ideas to the village. On the third day, the King returned to the discussions; he looked over plans, drawings and projections with the monks and the team of surveyors, architects and geologists, who had been in the room on the monks’ first visit and now worked closely with them. The King wanted to stay personally involved with the fate of his most loyal subjects. Vitchae had given his thoughts and ideas for the continuation and survival of the Tinju, but with many changes in their structure. The King agreed and plans were formulated, all were happy and pleased with the outcome. Vitchae had presented the King with the last ornament he had carved, he had finished it after he lost his sight and it was of great significance to him .The King had never seen anything cut and shaped with such precision on this four inch tall red stone. The King spent several moments admiring it before thanking Vitchae, he then gave it to the woman in the group who looked at the ornament, and with eyebrows raised looked at the smiling King. She held onto the ornament, and then left the room. The King had promised that when the holy relic was returned, it would be placed with the Emerald Buddha, safe in the Imperial Palace for all, not just Royalty to enjoy and worship. Pon would be rewarded, in the way befitting the Kingdoms greatest warrior. There were no ifs about Pons success, as he was on the side of right. On the evening of the third day, when business in the stateroom had concluded, only the two monks and the King remained. They wanted to get back to the village and relay the exciting news. The old King gently took the old monks arm.
“Khun Vitchae,” he said, “You have faithfully served me through boy and man, now let your King try to repay you.”
The private hospital room door opened and a large Swiss man and a Thai man both wearing white coats entered. They went over to Vitchae’s bedside and the Thai doctor spoke.
“How are you master Vitchae?”
Then, without waiting for a reply, he sat Vitchae up. A nurse, who had followed them in, pulled the backrest out and propped Vitchae into a sitting position.
Doctor Wansuk Tapakit and Doctor Fritz Hienbach had visited the Imperial Palace two evenings ago. The Swiss doctor being recognised as one the best at his field, Ophthalmology. The King summoned them personally and on their arrival, shown to the stateroom, where the confused monks were waiting The king asked if there was anything that could be done to help with the slightly older monk’s vision. Dr. Hienbach looked into old monk’s eyes with an ophthalmoscope and mumbled about cataracts and a bit of lens damage caused by the cataracts .He moved the scope around asking Dr. Tapakit to translate. After ten minutes of examining Vitchae, he stood straight up looked at Dr. Tapakit, and spoke in English with a strong Swiss accent.
“Schedule the surgery for tomorrow afternoon, OK.”
The Thai doctor, who was used to this abrupt but brilliant eye surgeon, nodded.
“Have him prepped and ready for surgery at two o’clock sharp. OK.” continued Fritz.
He then bowed at the King and strode out of the room.
The surgery had gone smoothly, it was a simple but effective procedure to remove the severe cataracts, and replace with new lenses. Bandages were applied overnight. The following morning doctor Tapakit cut the bandages that were wrapped around Vitchae’s eye’s, removed the gauze patches and stood back. Slowly Vitchae opened his eyes and focused around the room, Cenat was at his bedside, someone unfamiliar to him entered the room, which he ignored as he was engrossed in his new, crystal clear world, and he took hold of Cenat’s hand.
“I can see again old friend, I can see!”
Cenat laughed with joy. Vitchae looked around the room again and again.
“Ready for discharge,” instructed the Swiss doctor, and strode out of the room, on to his next patient, with the small Thai doctor rushing to keep up.
Vitchae, gazed at everything, then he focused on the man who had entered.
“Hello, Master monks,” said Taksin.
“Hello Taksin” replied Cenat.
Vitchae smiled and said
“It is very nice to finally see you Khun Taksin”
Taksin Wai-ed the monks and said.
“I have some good news for you.” He looked at Vitchae.
“Well” said Taksin “more good news.”
Taksin went on to tell them that Pon had called him late the previous evening, and he’d arranged for his friend at the Thai consulate in Phnom Penh to pick him up that morning, and now Pon was on his way to Thailand.
Pon had informed him that his ‘duty’ had gone to Pattaya. He was in pursuit and confident the holy relic would be returned in the next few days. My friend dropped him off and made sure he got on the ‘aeroplane’. He has just phoned and confirmed Pon was in the air and on his way to Pattaya.”
The two old monks looked at each other.
“Come on Vitchae,” said Cenat excitedly, “We have to get back to the village and make ready for our warriors return and start on our new mission.”
The two monks thanked Taksin, who had made arrangements for a helicopter to fly them to the village. Vitchae did not mind the prospect of a flight, as he was confident the pilot could miss the sun again.
“Excuse me,” said Cenat “What is an aeroplane?”