Uncle Gold

There is only one tractor in Pala-U. It belongs to Uncle Gold.

Pala-U is growing. There is demand for the tractor. To get Uncle Gold, a customer must wait a month, maybe two.

Uncle Gold told his daughter, “my grandson must work for me. He is wasting time in school. School is pointless. He doesn’t make money in school.”

His grandson, Boy, is 12 years old. Of course, Boy wanted to work with Uncle Gold. School is pointless. Boy doesn’t make money in school. So Boy works for Uncle Gold.

When a customer hires Uncle Gold for a day, Uncle Gold drives the tractor to the land. Boy sits next to him. Then, upon arrival, the customer serves rice whiskey to Uncle Gold. Boy plows the field. All day, the customer must entertain Uncle Gold, refill his glass, and listen to his stories. Uncle Gold speaks of the days before Pala-U had a tractor. The stories are entertaining, and everybody laughs. If Boy has a problem, a difficult turn or a large rock, Uncle Gold steps out of the shade and commands the tractor. He fixes the problem. Then, Uncle Gold returns to his rice whiskey.

At the end of the day, when Boy has finished plowing and Uncle Gold is well satisfied, they go home. Of course, Uncle Gold drives the tractor. Boy is too young to be trusted on the roads.

Boy has done well. He makes 10% of the earnings. Ownership of the tractor is worth 90%. Boy is the envy of his classmates. They have nothing; they can’t even buy an ice-cream. But Boy has new clothes and next month he will buy his own motorcycle.

Last Thursday, for the first time, Uncle Gold allowed Boy to drive the tractor home. As he approached the garage, he signaled a right turn with his arm, properly. But the speeding motorcycle behind them did not see the signal. Boy turned and the motorcycle crashed into them. Three bodies were thrown onto the road.

The woman and the girl were screaming and crying. The tractor was unhurt. Uncle Gold alighted to see what happened. The screams were loud, but Uncle Gold did not know if they were physical or emotional. They were tribal people, screaming in the Karen language, and Uncle Gold did not understand their words of pain. He looked carefully at the man. A trickle of blood had dripped from his ear. His neck was twisted into an unnatural position. He was dead.

Today, Uncle Gold met with the wife. She had recovered; her injuries were minor. Uncle Gold inquired about her daughter. She, too, would be alright. Apologies were exchanged. Uncle Gold gave her 30,000 Baht.

Boy has returned to school. Now, everything is settled.