Saturday, July 22
 

Akira was not there. Only the signboard remained where it used to be a Japanese restaurant, but no one was there. The sun was still shining strongly today. We decided to have a short break, so we went to the nearby Ta Cafe. The owner of the cafe, Ta, said she knew Akira well. Torii gate at Ta Cafe had nothing to do with Akira, but Akira must have seen it when he went to see Ta. As we walked out of the café, Ryu and I told Beer to let him know about us if he ever met him after we left Dansai. Beer then said, "I have never met Akira and he has been in Thailand for so long that I would not recognize him at a glance. Tomo, people may no longer tell if you are Japanese by your looks either." Ryu said jokingly, “What if Tomo, who is now 70 years old, is Akira?” I had never thought of that, but it could be true. If I were to go farming in Thailand, I would like to do it in Dansai. All the soil, water, wind, and people fit me well. After Ta told me that Akira also had farmed in Dansai, I could not say what Ryu said to me was impossible.

I stood at the reservoir. Perhaps it was because I had stepped into the river so many times before, I felt a sensation in my feet that was already quite familiar. I waited for Uncle Goot. Just when we thought he might not come, he showed up. But he did not remember us. Maybe he just forgot about us, or maybe he was actually from another world. As Ryu was taking pictures of Uncle Goot, a rainbow after the weather rain was arching over him.

　At night, we joined Phitakhorn Festival. Doi peeked out from under his green mask. If I were Akira at age 70, he would remember what I saw today at Phitakorn Festival. When I arrived home, I pulled a notepad out of the pocket of my sweat-soaked trousers from my clumsy dancing. The notepad still had Akira's phone number that Ta had given me. Looking at the number, I asked in my mind, "Who are you at the other end of this number? " What I got back was a mischievous, head-turning, Phitakorn gesture. But I would leave Dansai without calling the number until the end.