At 2:00 p.m. when metal and pavement burned and the sky hung
heavy over the shore, the children of the small fishing village divided into
two groups: those who took naps and those who explored. Ton was the leader of
the latter group and wore a tattered Dracula cape to prove it. Today he led the
group to the north part of the beach that had lain submerged in a murky tide
all morning. He had a strange twinge lodged like a tiny mosquito behind his
right rib cage and this twinge was telling him treasure was afoot. His
collection of hats, batteries, light bulbs, and bits of metal and glass had
grown since the Americans had built their oil rig a few kilometres off the
coast. Though he had never seen an American in person, he imagined them to be
tall with muscles that looked like the rolling hills behind his village. He
knew the Americans on the rig must be powerful given the degree of scorn and
fear in the voices of the adults around him whenever the topic came up in
conversation. He also knew that powerful people have treasure but he couldn’t
quite work out if the power created the treasure or if it was the other way
around.
Standing tall on a piece of driftwood, he assigned his tiny
crew to different spots on the beach and gave each one of them a plastic bag he
had snagged from his auntie’s restaurant down on the main road.
“Pick up anything that’s interesting. And no keeping stuff
for yourself!” he admonished referring to Mot, who last week had tried to sneak
home with a set of keys but forgot he had holes in his pockets.
When the younger boys had spread out and were a good
distance away, Ton ran for his favourite spot where the ocean met and created
the mouth of a stream. All the best treasures were caught in the sharp ridges
made in the sand by the constant flow of the water from the waves.
Ton poked through the piles of rubbish that the ocean had no
use for this morning: plastic spoons and bottles, lighters, tin cans, socks,
flip flops, and rope. There were some lovely pieces of thick green glass worn
smooth but Ton left those, knowing that without the water, the glass lost its
magic and could never shine again. Again the twinge. Ton went deeper into the
stream that ran behind the houses of his family and neighbors and where the
rubbish was mostly their own and no treasure at all.
And then with the same ease as knowing just where to scratch
his best dog to make him roll over and whine or where to tickle his mom so she
stopped looking sad, he found it.
The small metal shoes were greenish with small spots that
shown a bright gold. They reminded him of the strange objects housed inside the
local museum that seemed both otherworldly and mundane. He needed both hands to
cradle the shoes in his palms and in doing so could picture balancing the small
creature that stood inside them. What kind of creature would wear metal shoes
he wondered. Was it a prince from Europe? He seemed to remember being told a
story about rich nobility that unlike his own King, were lazy and used golden
toothbrushes. Did rich babies walk in gold? What did gold sound like on the
pavement? Not pavement! Princes walked on marble in palaces. He could imagine
the echo made in a large white room by the baby prince running and playing. But
were princes allowed to play?
So lost was he in the daydream of the European royalty that
he hadn’t heard two of his young charges come up behind him.
“It’s not fair. You always save the best places for
yourself!” a large and squat boy named Bird pouted.
“Can I see?” said Tip, the other, much smaller boy. Ton carefully
passed Tip the shoes using both hands.
“I think they belonged to a prince. In Europe. They must be
a 1000 years old and worth a million baht!”
Bird grabbed the shoes from his friend. “A prince? You’re
nuts. Why would a human wear metal shoes? These are robot shoes. Probably from
Japan.”
“Robot shoes!” Ton and Tip said in unison. The larger boy,
pleased to at least have an audience, if not a treasure, continued.
“Yeah. They have baby robots to do everything! Work under
cars like mechanics, bring food in restaurants, and even be like fake friends
or brothers for rich kids!”
Tip jumped up and down and ran in circles laughing. “This is
amazing!! We have to find the rest of the robot! Come on!”
Ton, both sceptical and unwilling to give up on the prince
idea, took back the shoes and looked inside.
“Why would robots wear shoes? Their legs are metal and they
don’t need anything to protect them.”
Bird, sighed with the weight of his newfound superiority. “Because
robots are supposed to be like humans. They probably have clothes too, but when
we find the rest of the robot, it will probably be naked.”
The idea of a naked robot sent Tip into further hysterics
and he fell into the sand laughing.
They spent the rest of the afternoon searching for robot
parts. But just as Ton had sensed the existence of the treasure, he also knew
that there was no more to be found.
When he went home, he wrapped the shoes in a plastic bag and
wedged them into a space he found where the makeshift roof met the wall of the
bedroom. Though he wished he could have the shoes near his pillow, he didn’t
trust his brother or the other boys of the village. That night as he stared at
the space where the shoes rested, he vowed that someday he would go to Europe
and find the palace where the young prince once lived.
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| the young kids who inspired the story |
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| the fishing village |
