OOPS! MYSTERIOUS SOUNDS: BOOK 1.

The fourth voice [Jinna]

"Nong Jin"

 

The owner of a popular local food stall greeted me as I walked in. He smiled broadly and beckoned me over to pick up the box of rice the customer ordered through the app.

 

"This one's for Jin."

 

The kind shop owner gave me two extra lunch boxes. So I bowed my head in thanks. Actually, besides me, there was also a 'big sister' (a guy with a feminine heart). The shop owner is always this kind to the food delivery drivers or GrabFood riders. This restaurant is a frequent stop for GrabFood delivery drivers, especially since the owner's sister cooks incredibly delicious and flavorful meals.

 

I could barely keep up with the orders from regular customers. It was especially busy in the evenings, during dinner time. I grabbed almost ten food boxes that customers had ordered, loaded them into my food storage bag in the back of my car, and then went to pay for my own meal.

 

"No, I don't want to, Jin." My sister waved her hand in refusal.

 

"I can't refuse, sir. You've been giving me free food for many days now."

 

I spoke seriously because last week he'd been giving me free lunch boxes almost every day, to the point where I felt indebted to him. In a business transaction, it's unfair to take advantage of one another. Selling things so frequently that it becomes a habit isn't right. Everything has a cost. Even if he was kind enough to give it to me, I shouldn't just accept it without thinking.

 

"Then I'll charge you fifty baht."

 

Gary quickly handed me change with smaller bills and shoved the money into my hand, afraid I wouldn't accept it. A good boxed meal with a fried egg on top would cost at least thirty-five or forty baht each. He gave me two boxes but only charged me fifty baht. That's only 25 baht per box; nobody else sells it for that price.

 

"I'm sorry to trouble you, sir."

 

"Oh, I wish the customers at that table could think like Jin."

 

He gave me a small smile before gesturing towards a table in the restaurant where people were talking loudly and animatedly.

 

"We eat here almost every week, and I always send the bill to the coach to pay."

 

I paused when I saw the familiar face of someone sitting at that table.

 

"And the coach only comes to pay occasionally, sometimes even monthly."

 

He was complaining and laughing at the same time, not really taking it seriously. His shop is near a national-level stadium that athletes often frequent.

 

I quickly turned my face away, but it seemed like a familiar face at that table happened to look this way, so he stood up and walked straight towards me. It stopped in front of my car just as I was about to start it, blocking my path.

 

"It's been a long time, Jin."

"..."

 

"How's your leg doing? Is it feeling better?"

 

'Jom' is its name. In the past, we tried out for the national team together, before I had to drop out of the final national team tryout because I had an accident last year and tore my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). It's a serious injury for a footballer because it requires surgery and a long recovery period. While I was recovering, I only played for the university team. Meanwhile, I heard he's been selected for the national youth team and seems to have caught the coach's eye.

We weren't exactly good friends. Even when we practised together as a team, we were competing with each other.

 

"Bad boy, huh, Jin? I haven't seen you at the tryouts in ages," he sneered. "It's no fun having a competitor in such a state." I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth before lowering my gaze to the ground and steering my motorcycle away, but he kept blocking my way.

 

"Are you not as good as you used to be?"

 

"Shut your mouth", I spoke in a calm voice.

 

"Jin the football field, huh?" He snorted. "Now he's totally pathetic. He has to earn money to pay for his studies by driving for Grab. How pathetic."

 

Wow."

I glanced at it.

 

"Are you really that broke?"

 

"I'm a food delivery driver, but I can still afford to pay for my own meals," I smirked, staring at him intently. "As for you, your soccer player allowance isn't even enough to eat."

 

It got to the point where I had to eat for free while the coach paid for my meal. It was a little disappointing.

 

"I'm just a nobody, while you..."

 

I moved my motorcycle closer to him. The guy flinched and stepped back, looking quite startled to see my worried smile.

 

"That's so lame."

 

I said one last thing before twisting the throttle and riding away. At that moment, I instinctively accelerated, wanting the wind to blow into my helmet. My mind felt clear after a jumble of thoughts raced through my head. 

 

After delivering the last customer of the day, I pulled over and parked by the fence of a housing development. The lights were on in front of the house, and three dogs were lying there. They recognised the sound of my motorcycle and got up, gathering at the fence, wagging their tails happily. So I crouched down, reached my hand through the gap in the fence, and petted them on the head as a greeting.

 

"Oh, Jin." The wrinkled face smiled happily at the sight of me.

 

"Hello, Auntie."

 

"Come in, son." She opened the gate for him.

 

*** The translation keeps giving Uncle and Auntie him/her, so I have stuck with Auntie. It makes sense to be Auntie, but it may be in the series either way. *** 

 

"I bought some groceries for you. They're all your favourites, Auntie."

 

The homeowner opened the door and called out, a plump middle-aged woman approaching with quick steps, her face covered in marks.

 

"And Jin, have you eaten yet, dear?"

 

I nodded slightly, since I'd already had lunch at my sister's shop, so I'd bought a few dishes from there to share with the person in front of me.

 

"Auntie, have you had lunch yet?"

 

Auntie Amporn, the homeowner, nodded slightly. "I ate soy milk and a rose apple this evening. Old people, my child, don't really have an appetite."

 

I followed her inside, then went straight to the kitchen to put the groceries we bought today in the refrigerator. While doing so, I looked around. On the dining table, I saw her medication packet. I picked it up, read the instructions, poured her a glass of water, and gave her the medication that indicated the time to take it after meals.

 

"Are you taking your heart medication on time and going to your doctor's appointments, Auntie?" She smiled as she took the medicine and water.

 

"Whether you die tomorrow or the day after, whether you go or not, the value is the same."

 

I sat down beside her and gently squeezed her wrinkled hand. She sighed deeply before agreeing to take the medicine. Then the homeowner turned to me with a smile. Those eyes, weathered by time, gazed at my face, and then a hand reached out and gently stroked it.

 

"It would be good if Pira and his wife and children were still alive."

 

She glanced at the picture frame in the corner, and tears welled up in her eyes. It showed a man and a woman smiling at each other, with a toddler beaming in the woman's arms. Auntie Amporn's eyes, filled with pain, left those who saw them speechless.

 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't help them." My voice trembled as I spoke, until a wrinkled hand reached out and gently stroked my head. Auntie Amporn smiled at me through her tears, her eyes filled with kindness.

 

"Jin, you did your best, son. Don't blame yourself. We can't change anyone's destiny." 

 

I've known Auntie Amporn since I first came to study in Bangkok. My friends and I were looking for a rental house because we had part-time jobs and living in the dorms wasn't convenient. Then we met her, who had a house for rent. Because we were from the provinces, she took a liking to us. At first, she didn't even charge us rent. It wasn't until we started our part-time jobs that she began collecting money. And the rent was even cheaper than the regular rate.

 

I became quite close to Auntie Amporn's family, getting to know her son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. She loves to cook. SHe used to share with us regularly, but fate was cruel, taking her children away from the man before me. Her son and his wife died in an accident last year, leaving her all alone.

 

I talked with the older woman for quite a while longer until she started yawning, then I excused myself and left.

 

"Jin, come and have meals with Auntie often, okay?"

 

I know she must be lonely. Besides participating in activities with the senior citizens' club, she must miss her children the rest of the time she's alone. I gently stroked her hand.

 

"Yes, I promise I'll visit often. But if you need anything, you can always call us, Auntie." Besides me, my close friends sometimes visit her.

 

After leaving Auntie Amporn's house, I drove and parked at a famous fusion restaurant along the main economic road to wait for Beam.

 

While waiting in the car for my best friend, I found myself thinking about my earlier conversation with Auntie Amporn. I was born into a family that wasn't well-off. My mother passed away when I was young, and as for my father, I don't want to talk about him because he's been nonexistent to me since birth, and I want it to remain that way. I grew up in a temple, raised by my maternal grandfather, who was my real grandfather, after my mother died. 

 

Fortunately, I had a talent for football. I've played football since I was a child and once led my school team to win the youth championship. I used this talent to gain admission to the engineering faculty at a prestigious university. But my dream of becoming a footballer was interrupted by an accident last year. I wasn't able to go back for national team tryouts. Because the injury was serious, I knew it wouldn't heal easily, so I had two options: quit playing or continue to push my body too hard. But because he used his athletic abilities to get into the university, he has to play for the university until he graduates. As for the dream of playing for the national team, that's something else entirely.

 

I had to take a break, but luckily, the faculty offered me a scholarship, and I was fortunate to maintain good grades, even though I didn't attend classes much in my first year. I relied on reading lecture notes and summarising them for the exams. After being injured and needing treatment, I returned to my studies and successfully re-applied for the scholarship.

 

"Have you been waiting long?"

 

I shook my head at Beam, my small, close friend who was grinning from afar. He was smiling brightly, one hand full of grocery bags.

 

"The shop owner was kind enough to give me some rice as well."

 

"Mmm."

 

Beam and I grew up together; we're actually cousins. Beam also had family problems and was taken in by a monk. Luckily, we both got accepted to the same university, though in different faculties, so we rented a cheap house to live in together. Staying in the dorms wouldn't be convenient because we both work part-time and finish late.

 

"I'm tired from driving for Grab, and now you have to wait to pick me up?"

 

He complained, "After soccer practice every day, I drive my Grab taxi and pick him up to go home every time."

 

"It's late. I don't want you to go home alone. Or do you want to wait for Thiw to pick you up?" Besides Beam, there's also Thiw, who rents a house with them. He works as a bartender at a pub and usually finishes around midnight.

 

"I'm going now." Beam turned to wave goodbye to someone, but of course, the area was empty. It was like he was talking to thin air. I sighed and moved to straddle the motorcycle, started the engine, and waited.

 

"I'm going now."

 

It's...it's not over yet. It talked to the air before walking over and sitting on the back of my motorcycle.

 

"Wear a helmet."

 

"Mmm."

 

It grabbed the helmet and put it on.

 

"Beam"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Did any customers cause you trouble today?" I asked the person riding pillion. Beam paused, pursed his lips slightly, and then mumbled something under his breath.

 

"How did you know?"

 

"That's what the person you waved goodbye to just now told me."

 

"Ah," he nodded as if what he heard was normal. "Nothing, Jin. The shop owner took care of it." I nodded in acknowledgement before starting the bike and driving off. 

 

It didn't take long to reach the accommodation, which was in an old neighbourhood. When I reached the small house at the end of the street, half wood and half concrete, I turned my bike in and frowned when I saw the lights downstairs. Normally, it's pitch black because no one's home yet. But then I realised what it was: a motorcycle parked there, which meant my friend must have returned. It was strange that he came home earlier than usual today.

 

When I walked in, I saw Thiw sitting there bandaging a wound on the corner of his mouth.

 

"What happened, Thiw?"

 

Beam rushed over to check on his friend. That handsome guy looked up just as we were returning. I glanced at the box. The first-aid kit on the table was interspersed with shots of its sharp features, showing wounds at the corner of its mouth and eyebrow, as if it had been in a fight.

 

"There was a little incident at the pub."

 

"Thiw answered in a calm voice, typical of his quiet personality. I've known him since high school because we went to the same school. Beam, me, and he became close friends ever since. Luckily, we all chose to study at the same university. He got into the science faculty with a top score."

 

"Does it hurt a lot?"

 

Beam rushed to help his friend bandage a cut on the corner of his mouth, so I walked over and poured Beam's food and the lunchbox I bought today onto plates.

 

"So what happened?"

 

"The customers were drunk and making up," Thiw said calmly. "So I went to stop them."

 

"So you got caught in the crossfire?" I asked jokingly, while it nodded slightly and looked up, letting Beam help bandage its wound.

 

"Your lawyer uncle came to visit you at your house today."

 

Thiw spoke in a calm voice, but it made my hand, which was putting food on my plate, freeze.

 

"He said they were relatives..."

 

"I have no relatives anywhere." I retorted immediately, causing Beam to stop tending to Thiw's wound and look at me directly.

 

"Jin"

 

"Stop talking about this."

 

"In my life, the only relatives are the Venerable Monk, you guys, and Uncle Amporn. I don't count anyone else."

 

The two of them exchanged glances and sighed. Meanwhile, I heard loud shouting coming from a house not far away. The woman's screams made us rush over to see what was happening. It was like déjà vu, encountering the same situation again. Most of the owners in this alley are elderly villagers who have lived here for many years. The house where the incident occurred is a few houses away from our rental house. Previously, it was owned by a married couple, but the husband was a heavy drinker. One day, he got drunk, slipped, and died. The elderly landlady became a widow for a few months before remarrying a younger man, practically her son's age. 

 

Everything seemed normal until we heard her screaming and shouting, muttering that her deceased husband was haunting her and saying something like she should leave her new husband because he was possessive of the house.

 

At first, the people in the area were scared. Later, it seemed like the older woman was developing alcoholism. When shedeveloping alcohol use disorder often screams and causes a disturbance. The villagers stopped paying attention to her, thinking she was delirious from alcoholism. Especially at this late hour, no one was interested in checking on the situation, except for the three of us who stopped by her fence.

 

I heard that her new husband only stays overnight occasionally, so she lives alone in this house. Her son visits her once a week.

 

Beam stood still by the fence, peering into the darkness as if searching for something. The older woman's voice is silent. Beam's gaze focused on the pitch-dark doorway before he spoke.

 

"Uncle, please stop bothering Aunt. Let's not hold a grudge against each other anymore," I sighed heavily before speaking.

 

"No way."

 

"How did you know?"

 

Thiw turned around and asked.

 

"He yelled back so loudly that he wouldn't stop."

 

I shook my head because I had just heard loud and clear that the darkness at the door, with which Beam was communicating, shouted back loudly: "Water!" The voice sounded very angry, as if he didn't want us here. So, Thiw walked closer to the gate, grabbed the rusty fence, and closed his eyes, remaining still. Soon, it opened its eyes, shook its head, and let go of the fence.

 

"Let's go back, Beam."

 

I nudged my short friend on the shoulder, but Beam hesitated and didn't move until Thiw nudged him to get him to start walking.

 

"Some things are beyond our capabilities. It's best not to get involved." I spoke up as we arrived at the rental house. Thiw closed the gate and followed Beam, who was walking behind me with a frown, and slumped down on the sofa, old things in the middle of the house.

 

"Stop frowning."

 

"But Uncle..."

 

I shook my head before walking over to the old, rickety teak dining table where Thiw was already sitting.

 

"Sometimes knowing and seeing things is suffering," Beam muttered. "I don't want to be like this."

 

"It's not just you, Beam. Neither do I nor Thiw want these special abilities either." 

 

Our story, the three of us, sounds like something supernatural. Our special abilities sometimes bring difficulties to three strange people who can see the supernatural. It's a special power we accidentally inherited. While I hear sounds that normal people shouldn't, Beam sees images, and Thiw learns things by touching objects. No one knew this except the monk who raised us and always warned us that certain powers were forbidden. Beware: do not use it for bad purposes; otherwise, negative consequences will follow.

 

I sighed deeply and fiddled with the rice on my plate, feeling full. Partly because it was very late, and partly because deep down, something is bothering me that I'm pondering.

 

'To the point of death'

 

That's the voice I heard when I was talking to Anda this evening at the football field, a voice I didn't want to hear. I remember vividly hearing it for the first time on the day my mother died in an accident when I was a child. Suddenly, that voice echoed in my head. My heart pounded uncontrollably, and strange things began to happen. Since then, I've heard this mysterious voice, like 'something' trying to communicate with me, asking for help and venting its troubles.

 

I don't want to hear it because I dread hearing the word "killed." That word always comes to mind if something bad happens to someone I'm thinking of. (The month has passed.) That expression makes me uneasy, especially since it's happening to Anda, my close college friend. I thought that voice had disappeared since I got injured last year, but no. I held my head in my hands, recalling the conversation I had with Anda this evening.

 

'Why do you have these marks on your face? What happened?'

 

'I had an argument with my family.'

 

'The one you launched, right?'

 

'Hmm, they can't accept it.'

 

"Wow, it's gotten to the point where they're resorting to physical violence?"

 

"Well, you know I'm not exactly a quiet person. My dad got angry, so I got slapped."

 

"Brother Itthi called me perverted."

 

'Anda', I nodded slightly.

 

"I'm really uneasy. I don't want to hear that voice."

 

I spoke softly, and my thoughts drifted to 'someone' who was a fan of Anda. Especially when I saw the pained, distressed expression on their face after Anda’s boyfriend sent him a doll stained red, I became even more worried. Throughout the time we've known each other, even though we didn't always get along, there was always goodwill in Phodduang’s eyes towards my friend Anda. If something happens, what will happen… will I regret it?

 

"Then let's pray tonight."

 

Beam spoke up.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

Late the next morning, after fully charging my phone and turning it on, I saw that I had received at least ten calls from two friends, excluding Anda. I frowned, staring at the old Android phone in my hand, and pursed my lips tightly. 

 

Last night, exhausted from soccer practice and driving for Grab, I had fallen asleep after finishing my prayers and forgot to charge my phone until morning. It was quite late now. I could hear Beam watering the plants. Actually, this rented house has only two rooms, but Thiw and I partitioned the large room into two for us to sleep in. The other, moderately sized room is for Beam to sleep in.

 

Just as I was about to call back Tos, he called first.

 

"That Jin, The voice on the other end of the line stammered and trembled.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

At that moment, I heard a banging sound, like someone running up the stairs. While the person on the other end of the line was delivering important news, Beam ran to open the door to the room. He stood there, panting and pale-faced, by the door.

 

"Anda committed suicide in his car under the condo."

 

I stood there stunned for a moment before hanging up the phone.

 

"Don't worry, I love my life more than anything. I won't get hurt easily, Jin. I'll still be here to tutor you guys for a long time." 

 

"Why, Anda? Didn't you say you'd stay with us for a long time?"

 

The engineering faculty was eerily quiet today, despite the usual hustle and bustle of students walking by. I glanced at my close friends, including Art, whose eyes were red. Kam looked like he was about to cry, while Tos's face was troubled. In the silence, I sighed deeply before speaking.

 

"I can't believe it."

 

"He was talking to me nicely yesterday." Art spoke with a trembling voice.

 

"They even planned to have drinks at Suan Luang Park today." That's really strange.

Before we parted ways yesterday, Anda said he was going to have dinner with his boyfriend, his face beaming. Why did my friend suddenly commit suicide? Even with all the negative news surrounding him lately, Anda didn't seem fazed at all. Or perhaps, beneath that smiling face, his heart was filled with immense pain.

 

I sighed heavily and glanced down at the group chat on my phone. The last message from Anda was that he was going to buy everyone drinks. After that, I logged into Facebook, and a post from the most recent friend I added a few days ago appeared on my timeline.

 

1. Phodduang

'I'm not cruel anymore.'

Status: Rest in peace, #Anda. Have a safe journey. Up there, I hope you only meet kind people, smile a lot, and don't have to deal with those bad people.

 

The person who posted that status update shared a picture of themselves with Anda, both smiling and sparkling-eyed. One of them, however, was physically gone, as for the other person, who knows how heartbroken they must be by now. I took a deep breath before liking the post.

 

"Damn," Tos grumbled, "Look at this. A person died, and the reporters are still stubbornly interviewing the parents even though they're not mentally ready."

 

I glanced at the news footage showing Anda's mother crying with a microphone held up to her face by a reporter from one channel. Anda's death was a big deal. Reporters from almost every news outlet flocked to the hospital where the family had taken her body for autopsy. And if that wasn't enough, some even tried to get close to the parents and family to get interviews for the news. Even the condo where the incident occurred, and the forensic department were swarmed with reporters, making it impossible for the residents and forensic staff to work.

 

I called Anda's brother and learned that the family is waiting for the autopsy results, which could take weeks or even longer. It would take a long time for the autopsy results to be released before the body could be taken for religious ceremonies. My friend and I agreed that it would be better to wait for the news rather than intrude on the family's grief during that time, giving them time to grieve.

 

"Did their parents give an interview, too?" Art asked.

 

"No way! I read that one channel secretly went in for an interview. It seems they were monitoring the entrance and exit of the forensic department. The parents were completely caught off guard."

 

As you can see, the mother was sobbing; she couldn't speak. Luckily, the father quickly took her away.

 

"Because people love drama."

 

"But drama that infringes on the privacy and feelings of the bereaved is just not right," Tos said emotionally, while I nodded in agreement. Just then, one of our classmates ran over to our table.

 

"You guys"

 

"What the hell?"

 

"There are reporters here asking for you. They want to interview Andawa's close friends," I glanced at each of my friends' faces and shook my head.

 

"The feeling of losing a friend is already overwhelming. I don't want to sensationalise Anda's death," I refused before we both stood up and walked away in another direction.

 

I barely understood anything in class today. In the evening, Tos and I went to football practice, while Art had already gone home. Nobody spoke today, and the atmosphere felt unusually quiet, especially when we saw Anda’s fan sitting dejectedly by the sidelines. I was so flimsy with the ball, it made me even more depressed. It glanced at me for a moment before turning its face away, its eyes red. 

 

It was past nine o'clock when we finished practising. I was going to continue driving for Grab delivering food, but I'm incredibly tired today. I think I'll take a day off. I walked back to change my clothes, and while I was doing so, Poodduang came along looking dejected and plopped down on the chair in front of the locker. So I walked over and stopped in front of it. It looked up at me and pursed its lips tightly.

 

"Should I give you a ride?" I spoke up as it looked puzzled.

 

"I don't want to go back yet."

 

"How about we go for a drive?"

 

It made a surprised face.

 

"Why you..."

 

"It's normal for people who are dating to go out together," I spoke softly, while the beetle said nothing but followed me to my bike. So I handed it a helmet to wear.

 

"Put it on."

 

"Where are you taking me?"

 

"I'm not going to sell you, don't worry."

 

It bared its fangs at me before jumping on the back of the motorcycle.

 

"When you're riding pillion, don't tense up like that. You'll fall off, and it will make it difficult for me to control the bike."

 

"So what should I do?"

 

"Put your arms around my waist, and try to lean in towards the driver."

 

"Yes"

Phodduang grabbed the hem of my student uniform and moved closer, moving it from where it had been sitting a little further away. So I slowly started, glancing in the rearview mirror to see the person behind me, who was looking down. It trembled slightly, so I slowed down even more and reached out with one hand to take its hand and place it on my waist.

It resisted at first, but eventually it moved to touch my waist. It didn't take me long to get it under a bridge by the river. Unfortunately, it suddenly started to drizzle, so I led it to a wooden pavilion that was quite bright thanks to solar-powered lights. It sat silently watching the rain before turning its face towards me.

 

"Do you think Anda knows how much people are grieving and missing him?"

 

I fell silent.

 

"Phu respects Anda's decision. Anda must be very tired. But for a moment, I can't help but feel a little hurt," he said, his voice trembling. 

 

"Or maybe. We didn't protect him enough. That's why Anda had to suffer from those hurtful words to the point where he doesn't want to face another bad day."

 

"Do those cruel people know now that the satisfaction they felt from insulting someone has taken his life?" I moved closer, reached out, and grabbed his shoulder.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

It shook its head.

 

"Even as just a fan, I'm this heartbroken. Imagine how much pain Anda's family must be feeling."

 

"Loss always leaves a wound for those who remain," I said. "But time heals all wounds."

 

I extended my hand towards it.

 

"what"

 

"Hold my hand."

 

"Try touching it. You'll realise it's more than just a greeting."

Phodduang pouted before turning his back, but still extended his hand to hold mine. We sat with our backs to each other, my right hand intertwined with his left.

It was silent. No words were spoken between us. Only the sound of the rain could be heard. Holding hands at this moment isn't just a greeting; it's a form of healing. Clasped hands are like healing each other's hearts.