After more than four months since their wedding, the New Year festival was just days away.
In fact, for Khem, Pharan, and their twin sons, New Year's celebrations in past years hadn't been anything spectacular or exciting like for other families; it was just an ordinary day spent together in their warm home.
However, this year was special, as Pharan had promised to take his wife and children on their first trip to a different province. Upon hearing this, both the mother and children were excited and happy about the rare opportunity to travel far, so they had been preparing their luggage since last week.
But then, it seemed like the plan might fall apart because Pharan had taken on several jobs back-to-back, leaving him with little time to rest-blessing ceremonies, housewarming events, consecrating sacred objects, and even many monastic duties. Since these clients were all influential people with whom there were mutual interests, he couldn't refuse.
Another important reason was his desire to save money for the family trip, so he worked hard without a single complaint. Eventually, he fell ill with a fever like never before, forcing Khachen to drive over to pick up both 'Sua' and 'Singh' to look after them temporarily until Pharan recovered.
Of course, this wouldn't be sorted out by the end of the year since only three days remained.
"Mom, can't we stay with you?" Singh asked, still clinging tightly to one of his mother's legs, and his brother, seeing this, let go of Uncle Khachen's hand to hug the other leg with the same force.
"Yes, dear mom, I promise I won't be naughty at all, not even a little bit."
Khem shook his head, feeling touched. They usually argue all the time, but now, at this moment, they were so harmoniously united.
"It really can't happen. When Dad gets sick, it's much worse than most people, and I am worried you might catch the fever." Khem tried to explain, but the twins seemed reluctant to give up easily.
"But if you catch Dad's fever, who will take care of you?" Singh argued.
"Exactly, if we're with you, there'll be someone to take care of you, right?" Sua added.
Khem laughed at the twins' adorable stubbornness, which they had clearly inherited from their uncles Jett and Khachen. If it were any other matter, he might have already given in. With that thought, he knelt down and hugged both boys.
"I promise to take good care of myself, and when Daddy gets better, we'll go pick you up from Uncle Khachen's right away. No fussing, okay?"
The twins resigned, pouted together, holding back tears to not worry their mother, and reluctantly agreed, each taking one of Khachen's hands with a defeated look, which almost made Khem soften again, but seeing Khachen shake his head with a smile, he had to suppress that urge.
"I'm counting on you, Khachen."
"Don't worry, take care of Pharan." Khachen said, and Khem nodded slightly.
"Yes."
After watching the sports car drive off past the gate, Khem began cleaning the house and prepared to cook. He made a simple dish of ginger fish congee, and once it was ready, he brought it upstairs to serve to the sick man in the bedroom.
Pharan had started feeling ill since last night, forcing Khem to sleep in the children's room and to keep wiping him down throughout the night until this morning.
"Pharan, eat some congee, so you can take your medicine." Khem called out. Pharan, whose fever had slightly subsided since last night, had to force himself up to sit. His sharp features and bare upper body were still glistening with sweat, and his dark eyes, heavy with the sickness, looked at his wife intently.
"After eating, I will change the bedsheets so you can sleep more comfortably."
Khem said this without even looking at his husband's expression, as he was busy blowing on the spoonful of congee.
"Are you tired?" The hoarse voice asked softly. Khem shook his head before lifting the spoon to Pharan's mouth.
"This is nothing, it's very easy. Open up quickly, my dear."
Pharan's eyes flickered for just a moment, then went still, as if lost in thought. That was when Khem slightly startled.
In all the years they've been together, Khem had never fed Pharan, no matter the situation. But recently, with the twin sons having just recovered from a fever, he momentarily treated his husband like one of the little ones.
"I'm sorry, I forgot myself." He said, starting to lower the spoon, but it was grabbed by a warm hand, stopping him.
"It's fine, this is quite convenient." His habit of thinking one thing and saying another hadn't changed, but he couldn't admit that he sometimes felt envious because his wife took better care of their sons than of him; that would be embarrassing.
Khem's face turned red when Pharan lowered his head to open his mouth for the porridge that he was being fed. Some spoonfuls were too hot, burning his tongue because he was too shy to blow on them, but the other person didn't complain or show any reaction. Soon, the fish porridge in the bowl was all gone.
Khem placed the empty bowl on the bedside table and then picked up a glass of water that was nearby.
"Take your medicine now." He said. Pharan took the fever reducer, placed it under his tongue, then drank the water until the glass was empty.
After the meal and the medicine, Khem went about changing the bed sheets because the old ones were damp with sweat. Once the bed was made, it was time for a sponge bath.
Pharan lay back on the bed, watching his small wife carefully sponge him down from his neck, both arms, back, chest, down to the clearly defined abdominal muscles. Each touch felt soothing.
After Khem finished with his upper body, he looked up at the man who was watching him with an embarrassed expression.
"Uh...would you like to do the lower half yourself?"
Pharan gently shook his head in response and then said something surprising,
"You even washed the twins'."
"..."
"You don't think I'd be a bit jealous?"
Khem's mouth hung open in shock, then he gently closed it, blinking to realign his thoughts.
Normally, Khem had never heard such direct, reproachful words from Phim before, making him forget that Phim was just an ordinary man. If it
hadn't been for his illness, Khem might never have realized what his husband was keeping inside.
Realizing this, Khem steeled himself, moved closer, and gently kissed Phim on the lips without fear of catching his fever.
Phim accepted the kiss without closing his eyes, intently watching his small wife's brave act. His light brown eyes still couldn't hide the slight embarrassment, yet he smiled faintly and whispered, "I'll wipe you later."
The second night seemed no better for Phim; his fever was high, he had severe headaches, body heat, and was vomiting. Khem stayed close, watching over him all night, hardly sleeping, thinking that if there was no improvement by morning, they'd have to see a doctor.
The sound of a rooster crowing at 4:30 AM startled Khem awake. He lifted his head from where he had dozed off on his arm to look at his husband, only to find the tall figure turned towards him, loosely holding his hand as if afraid he might disappear.
His handsome face was beaded with sweat, his sharp brows furrowed as if in pain. Khem felt distressed, having never seen Phim this sick before. As he tried to get up, Phim gripped his hand tighter.
"Phii Phim..." Their eyes met as Phim's dark eyes slowly opened, and in a hoarse voice, he whispered, "Don't go."
Khem took a deep breath to keep from crying, steadying his voice to respond, "I will go get a cloth to wipe you down."
Phim's fever-reddened eyes blinked slightly, sensing Khem's emotions.
"Don't cry...I'll get better in a few days."
Khem smiled, nodding before leaning down to gently kiss Phim's forehead.
"Okay, I will be right back."
Khem got up and left the room, taking his mobile phone with him. At that moment, the tears he had been holding back began to flow uncontrollably, heartbroken that his husband was so ill and feeling helpless.
Upon reaching the kitchen downstairs, he immediately set a pot to boil water without even drying his tears, but soon his phone, which he'd brought to check the time, showed an incoming call. Khem pursed his lips before accepting the call.
"Hello, Khem, how are things?" asked the eager voice on the other end. Hearing the concern in his friend's voice, Khem started crying.
"[Sniff] Jett, Phim's condition hasn't improved at all."
"Damn, Chan, you step on it! Okay, don't cry. We'll be there inanother hour. Hold on."
"Ugh, drive carefully, no need to rush. We can wait."
"Okay, you're doing great. That's all."
"Uh-huh."
Khem quickly mixed hot water with cold to make it warm, then poured it into a basin along with a clean cloth, and went upstairs to wipe down Pharan as he'd been doing for the past two nights. An hour later, Jett and Chan arrived as promised. Once everyone was there, they cooked food for both the sick man and themselves.
After giving Pharan his fever medicine and waiting until he was asleep, Khem half-ran, half-walked downstairs. He hopped onto an old motorcycle that Jett and Chan had borrowed from someone in the village. Chan, who volunteered to drive, started it up slowly and drove to the shrine at the village entrance. Villagers who heard about Pharan's illness followed on bicycles or on foot.
Jett, Khem, Chan, along with the gathered villagers, formed a circle around the shrine, each holding a flower garland, lighting incense, and placing their hands in prayer with sixteen sticks of incense each.
Jett led the chanting of the mantra known as the "Bhojjhanga Paritta."
believed to have the power to cure illnesses, his brown eyes closed as he chanted clearly:
"Phochangkosatisankhato
Dhammanam
Vjayo
Vatha
Viriyam
Pitipassadhi Phochangka Ca tathaphare Samādhupekkha Phochangka Satte Te Sappa Dassina Munina Sammatakkhata, Bhavita Pahulikata"
A gentle breeze carried the scent of incense and white smoke, dispersing around the area. After the prayers, they moved forward to hang the garlands on the wooden rail at the shrine and then planted their incense sticks in pots, concluding the ritual.
That night, Pharan's condition remarkably improved, which might be attributed to belief, but the main factor was undoubtedly the support and care from his wife and disciples who took turns entering and leaving his bedroom all night.
On the afternoon of that day, instead of celebrating New Year's in the North with his wife 'Aiyra' as planned, Khachen decided to bring a large set of Korean BBQ and the twins over to Pharan's house, sparing Khem the need to go pick up the kids as he had mentioned.
When Sua and Singh saw their father sitting on the daybed with a cartoon-patterned fever gel on his forehead, looking pale and wrapped in a thin blanket, their faces fell, and they ran to hug him. Pharan, seeing this, put down his glass of ginger water and bent down to lift one of his sons onto the bed for a better embrace.
"Dad! Uhh, huuuh! Don't die, okay!" Singh said with a voice full of sobs, tears and snot mixing indistinguishably.
"Dad! If you die, how will I and Mom live! Waaah!" Sua cried out just as loudly as his brother.
Without needing to be told, one could guess who they got such dramatic ideas from. Hearing this, Pharan bent down to remove his slippers and threw them straight at the culprit who was about to start a fire.
The slipper, which had some weight to it, hit Khachen right on the head, amidst the shocked looks from Khem, Jett, Chan, and Aiyra who were standing around, watching the scene unfold.
Thwack!
"Ouch!"
And so began the chaotic New Year's celebration with the large KoreanBBQ set, ending with beautiful fireworks, smiles, and laughter, just likeevery time in the past...