The story will be published soon. Stay tuned for the live session.
It is almost midnight at Ann’s house party. Such gatherings are common among Thai students; a great opportunity to catch up with others in the Thai students’ community in Birmingham and to taste authentic Thai food. It is not a big party when there are only four of us: Ann the host, is the eldest, a big sister for all of us and a star of any parties; Stamp, the youngest, has a kind heart and always a smile on her face; Kona, the same age as me, is a lively force that draws out the fun side of people.
Watching them interact to each other is a joy in itself, and I am content with being the watcher and the listener. The only things I do not want to listen to are ghost stories, which were usually being told whenever there was a gathering at night. They know I fear ghosts and that I try to avoid hearing about them whenever possible, yet the thrill of the storytelling outweighs the fear of one person. They always tell me to just sit with them and, when things get scary, to just close my ears. I am curious in nature and always fail not to listen to stories of any kind, so I face the consequence of paranoia and insomnia at night.
The way Kona is looking at her watch means they are going to do it again. ‘It’s time for ghost stories,’ says Kona. I hate to be right.
Ann and Stamp squeal in excitement before they fill their cups with ciders and sit next to Kona. The three of them look at me expectantly until I give up and sit with them to complete the circle. Then, she begins her story.
‘It was almost midnight when I took a taxi home,’ says Kona. ‘The driver was bearded and bald, and his look in the rear-view mirror made me instinctively clutch at my purse. After I told him where to go, we sat in silence for some time. It is normally an hour ride to where I live on the outskirt of Bangkok. So, I passed the time by looking at my surroundings in the car. On the console, there are tons of amulets and buddha necklaces, which supposed to protect the driver and me from harm, but I didn’t feel the sense of security. I was worried about how reckless the driver must be to need all the amulets to protect the people. I can tell you that being tensed from fear for almost half an hour isn’t good for one’s mental health. When the driver’s hand hovered near the grille, my heart skipped a beat because I thought he might try to drug me, like what we heard from the news about some chemicals that was sprayed through the car’s air conditioner. Luckily, he just turned on the radio. Then the weirdest thing happened: he tuned in to my favourite ghost radio station and better than that, DJ Win was hosting The Shock, my favourite ghost show! What a coincidence!’
Ann and Stamp nods in agreement. I know Kona’s obsession with ghost stories on the radio. To her, listening to a ghost show on the radio at night is a habit, so much so that, for some time, sleep comes easier only with the sound of someone telling a ghost story. And when her work routine prevents her from staying up late, she listens to the shows’ podcast on the internet instead.
Kona continues her story. ‘The driver turned and asked me if it was all right, pointing at the radio console. I told him it was fine since I was also a fan of the show. You wouldn’t believe how fast the atmosphere changed at that point. The driver became much more open and friendly. He said he had been listening to the show for half a decade. It was good, he said, to hear a familiar voice to keep him company during night runs. Ghost radio plays were much better in the old times, he said, but they were a thing of the past, replaced by TV shows. He was glad there was still a dedicated station for ghost stories. We talked for a quarter of an hour, which I knew because we passed Future Park Rangsit.’
Then she talks about the actual ghost story that she heard in the car about a boy scout camp. A typical ghost story is what I think it is: Missing kids lured out into the woods by a dubious character that, through a shocking revelation, turns out to be a malevolent ghost trying to take the kids’ lives so it can cross over to the next life. The shocking revelation, in this case, is when the boy scout ghost removes a scout rope from his belt and says, ‘Let’s hang ourselves.’
When Kona says it, Ann and Stamp scream. I yelp. Kona just smirks at our reactions before saying, ‘I cursed at that point, and the driver asked if I was all right. I pretended I was fine and said everything was all right. You know what the driver did? He just laughed out loud.’
‘How rude!’ says Ann. Stamp nods. I say, ‘What happened to the kid? Did he make it?’
‘I thought you didn’t like hearing ghost stories,’ says Kona.
‘I still don’t. I’m just … curious.’
‘Well, he ran away as far as possible until he fell over a log and was knocked out.’
‘That’s it. He’s done,’ says Ann.
‘We all know how these things end,’ says Stamp. ‘A vengeful sprit finds a substitute to take his place and tricks a person into killing himself. Poor kid.’
‘Not this time,’ says Kona. ‘He’s saved by other ghosts, the kind that look like grandma and grandpa spirits of a local shrine.
‘No way!’ says Ann.
Kona explains. ‘While the grown-ups are searching for the missing kid, someone suggest they pray to the local guardian spirits. They agree as they have nothing to lose. The locals take them to the shrine where there’s a statue of an old woman carrying a betel basket and an old man with a plough on his shoulder. And guess who the lost kid see when he wakes up? An old man and a woman who answered exactly to that description!’
At this point, I have become invested with the story. I am still half afraid of what scary images are going to pop up in the story, but the thrill of listening until the end has swept the fear under the rug. Finally, Kona reaches the end of the ghost story: the boy was taken to a temple by the two spirits and was found by the adults in the morning. It is only later that the boy is calm enough to say what happens. He says he is safe within the chapel, but outside, the boy scout ghost haunts him all night, repeatedly saying ‘Let’s hang ourselves.’
As soon as Kona finishes, I can sense goosebumps on my arms. Ann and stamp let out a muffled scream that turn into giggles later at their silliness. The cold fear grips me longer than that as my vivid imagination takes me to the scene where I become the boy inside the chapel, hearing faint yet insistent whispers that keep taunting me with no end of death. Kona’s laugh brings me back to the land of the living. ‘You should see your faces right now.’
‘Not funny,’ I say.
‘Relax,’ says Kona. ‘I got goosebumps too in the taxi. Normally I would scream but I didn’t want to show the driver how scared I was. My hands were clutching at my handbag the whole time to my house. The driver cheerfully blabbered on despite my silent response. I thought he would never stop talking since his monologue had already run for fifteen minutes, and I knew because I kept looking on my watch. When I arrived at the house, I just wanted to get off the car as soon as possible, but the driver said something that made me stopped on my track. He said, “Good luck seeing some ghosts tonight.” I was too shocked to ask him what he meant. I just knew that I didn’t want to spend time any longer in the dark. My grandma’s old, decrepit house was next to my parents’ where I was living in. I loved my grandma, but I was praying the whole time until I got into the house that she had already gone to heaven and would not suddenly show herself to me, even out of love.’
Then, Kona pauses for effect before saying, ‘The end.’
‘That’s a great story!’ says Stamp.
‘I agree,’ says Ann. ‘The best one yet.’
My head is full of questions: What did the driver mean? Did he literally want Kona to see many ghosts from then on? Was it something ghost radio fans say to each other? Does listening to lots of ghost stories still make a person afraid of ghosts?
The sound of the chairs moving across the wooden floor takes me back to the moment. I want to ask Kona but the party is coming to an end. As I help them clear the table I can’t help thinking if I can ever stop being afraid of ghosts and be fascinated by them at the same time.
Comments