When Nuang awoke the following morning, the young monk was standing beside her bed. She regarded him briefly then said, "I smell awful, and I am tired of lying here. Please bring my clothes so I can go to the bath."
The young monk smiled, pleased that she was feeling better. He nodded and stepped from the room. A moment later a woman entered carrying clothes. She laid them on the bed and left.
Nuang slipped into the clothes, the same she had worn the night she arrived at the temple, except now they were clean. She walked quietly to the door and peeked out. The woman who had brought her clothes stood waiting in the hallway.
"I will show you to the bath," the woman said, smiling.
By reflex, Nuang smiled in return. As she followed the woman, she began remembering things about this part of the temple. She had been here nearly two years ago and it hadn't been a social visit. Her sister’s ex-fiancé had beat Math so severely she had been brought here for safety and healing.
By the time they reached the toilets Nuang had regained her bearings and knew where she was. She took a very long bath. It felt wonderful to be clean.
The young monk was waiting when she arrived back to her room.
"Sawasdee ka," she said, presenting him with a polite wai.
"Sawasdee krup," he smiled, without returning her wai. "You slept through breakfast, so I asked one of the women to save you some food. If you are strong enough, we can go to the kitchen. If not, I will have someone bring the food here. Either way, I insist that you eat."
His insistence was for nothing. Nuang was starving. "Thank you. Can we go to the kitchen now? I am so hungry I could eat an elephant."
"Sorry," the monk laughed. "We have no elephants on the menu today. Only rice and fish, but we have plenty of both. Come, I will take you to the kitchen. I want to talk with you for a while."
Nuang remembered where the kitchen was and didn't need anyone to show her the way, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want him to know she had been here before.
As they walked, she hoped she wouldn't see anyone else who might recognize her face and expose her past. The idea that the monk already knew who she was crossed her mind. Her heart skipped at the notion.
In the kitchen Nuang was given a glass of juice and bowl with rice and fish. The bowl was small and didn't hold much; certainly not enough to satisfy her appetite. She hoped the monk intended to feed her more than this. She ate as slowly and politely as her hunger allowed. Within minutes the food was gone. She looked up. "I am embarrassed to ask you this, but do you have more?"
"It’s best if you don't eat too much at once," he said. "Let’s talk for a while, and then if you’re still hungry you can eat more."
Nuang nodded. "What do you want to talk about?" She hoped he wouldn't ask her too many questions so she wouldn't have to tell too many lies.
"I want to apologize for what is happening."
His statement caught her off guard. She had expected him to ask about her baby and its non-Thai appearance, or maybe even announce that he knew who she was and where she was from. She hadn't expected an apology of any sort. "I don't understand."
"When you arrived, you were very sick and couldn't take care of your baby. Another woman came here just a few days before you. Her baby was…." He hesitated briefly, as if finding the right words. "Her baby was born dead."
Nuang pulled her hand to her mouth, "Oh dear, that is terrible. She must be very sad. I feel so much pity for her."
It was true; she did feel sorry for the woman. At the same time she felt envy. How less complicated her life would be now if her own baby had been born dead. Immediately, she regretted having such a thought. She pushed it aside. "But she is still young, someday she can have another."
The monk looked away. With the brutal beating Somjit had suffered at the hands and feet of her husband, it was questionable if she could ever get pregnant again. His face flushed at the lie he was about to tell.
"Yes," he said, eyes avoiding hers. "Someday she can have another. But right now she is very upset. She wanted to take care of your baby until you were well. I let her do that and it was a mistake."
"What do you mean it was a mistake? I think she did a very unselfish thing."
"It was a mistake," the monk whispered low, "because Somjit has adopted your baby as her own. When you leave the temple with your baby, she will be devastated all over again."
"I never thought about that." Nuang, in turn, avoided his eyes. How twisted the world was, she thought. One woman, who so desperately needs a child, has none; while another, who wished she had never gotten pregnant, has a baby she doesn’t want. It was a cruel joke that fate sometimes played on people. "I think everything will be okay in the end," she said hopefully.
"I will pray that you're right."
They sat in silence, each contemplating what had been said. In a minute a soft chant floated to them on the mid-morning air.
The monk spoke first, "After you have finished eating, I will take you to a doctor, a family friend. I want him to do some tests to be sure you have recovered from your infection."
He was concerned about the infection, but he was just as concerned about the voices the woman heard in her head. He suspected it was some odd effect from her pregnancy but he wanted confirmation. "It will not cost any money," he added as an afterthought.
Nuang couldn't think of a good reason to say no. "Okay, I will go, but only if you let me have more food."
The young monk smiled and nodded his agreement, "Go ahead, but not too much. I don't want you to get sick while we're in the taxi."
After an examination and a series of tests, the doctor confirmed her infection was in full remission. He found no immediate cause for the voices. The doctor suggested they might have been caused by her pregnancy and would likely go away as her body returned to normal. He gave her a mild anti-psychotic medication but suggested she not take it unless the voices returned. Overall he concluded that Nuang was in fine health except for being too thin. He made her promise to eat better and sent her on her way.
Later that day, at the midday meal, Nuang kept her promise to the doctor.