Chapter 12
“You better launch a cob on that row,” Tas said, pointing to the one at the very bottom. He surveys the game Mochi has started since they got in the taxi, and he knows that it could be game over in a while.
“They are all charging. Good thing there are no Gargantuars.”
“Divert them to that upper row and gas ‘em.”
“The Garlic is still recharging,” said Mochi back, seeing that one of his weapons is not yet ready. “DAMN,” he spat afterwards. He sees a cluster of zombies chewing away an already embattled Tall-nut.
“Hah! One Cob Cannon just became a snack!” mocked Tas. The recharging weapon disappears in the screen.
“Shut up, Tas!”
“No missile, no garlic, is this the end of our hero?” he continued, sounding like a commentator.
Four Gargantuars appear on the battlefield; Mochi could only scratch his head as his remaining Cob Cannons are still without a warhead. Another wave came, and a cluster of Snorkel Zombies make their way to the pool and are now devouring his row of Gloom-Shrooms. Four more zombies, each in a zamboni, lead the others into his garden. Mochi presses “Quit” on the screen.
“OH, AND HE GIVES UP! Game, set, and match – Zombies!” yelled Tas. Even the cab driver has to look at his rear-view mirror to see if something wrong is happening at the back.
“You jinxed my game,” said Mochi bluntly.
“I didn’t.”
Tas brings out his phone and composes an SMS to a receiver who Mochi doesn’t know.
“Who’re you texting?” asked Mochi.
“A friend.”
Mochi glances at Tas’ face where a smile is etched. “I’ve never seen you smile like this when you text a friend,” he continued.
Tas did not answer and just proceeds on what he is doing. Mochi looks away – silent. He is not as happy as the guy beside him.
“Who’s she?” asked Mochi, guessing that Tas is talking to a girl. Tas maintains silence, but he is still texting.
“Who’s she, Tas?” Mochi repeated.
“Oh! What?”
“Who is that you are texting?”
“Actually, it’s a he. His name is Gan,” said Tas, looking at Mochi.
“Nice. Is he…”
Tas’ phone rings before Mochi can finish his next question.
“Sorry, Mochi. I have to take this.”
“Go ahead,” replied Mochi, still not looking at his friend.
They are at an intersection waiting for the red light to become green. Mochi sits through the entire stop light listening to Tas’ and another guy’s conversation.
“P’ krap, make a right at that next traffic light,” said Tas to their driver.
“Krap.”
“Where are we going?” asked Mochi.
“Picking another passenger.”
“Where?” The light turns green, and off they go.
“At the pharmacy on the next corner.”
“Is that the same person you just talked to?”
“Very perceptive of you, Mochi. Hahaha! Yes, it is.”
Mochi’s curiosity lever has just been given a push from Off to On.
“Who is he?”
“His name is Gan Ratanopong, and he is a professional pharmacist.”
“How did you two meet?”
“At the gym opposite of that drugstore,” Tas said pointing. Mochi sees the pharmacy Tas is saying, and indeed, a fitness gym is there with only a pedestrian lane separating them.
“Let me guess. You two were sharing the bench press machine, right? And that is how you knew each other.”
“Haha. Not exactly. Remember when I sprained my leg?”
“Yes.”
“Gan was the one who attended to me. I was doing a leg press that time, and he was doing a pullup at an equipment near to where I am. I locked out my legs in one of the reps, which was obviously a mistake.”
“Then? what happened?”
“My thighs cramped: it was really painful. It was he who did first aid on my legs.”
“Haha! He touched your legs?” asked Mochi, smiling. Deep inside, however, he is jealous.
“Both of them. He applied a liniment to loosen the muscles on my legs”
At this, Mochi’s smile fades away. “Wow,” he said with a straight face.
“After that, we went to the pharmacy he was working at on the other side of the street. There, I bought the same liniment he used at me in the gym. The rest, as they…”
“…say is history,” said Mochi, finishing what Tas is supposed to say.
“Yes, and we’ve been talking in Line since.”
“Right. Do you like him?”
Tas did not answer but reads a message that his phone has just received. Mochi is unsure if Tas just evades the question or really does not hear it.
“P’ krap, you may pull over by the waiting shed.” Tas told their driver, so they can avoid the right turn.
“Okay krap.”
As they stop, Mochi sees a young-looking boy daintily dressed in white coat, which is closed by a line of buttons on the far left. A pair of white pants goes with it – tightly fitted – highlighting the noticeably sturdy legs of the person wearing it. He is removing his name plate at the chest part of his upper garment. To Mochi, the only thing on a tangent in this boy’s attire is the grayish sneakers on his feet, which could be because of how old it is rather than how dirty it is. The boy outside looks at the cab after putting away his nameplate. Tas gives him a wave from the inside and motions him to get in.
“Mochi, this is Gan,” introduced Tas as soon as the third passenger enters, without putting any label whatsoever.
Gan is the only child in his family. They were originally from Singapore but moved to Thailand after he finished his secondary school to cater to his father’s need to travel to Bangkok because of engineering projects. His mother is an optometrist and owns a clinic in the capital city.
“Gan, this is Mochi, my classmate and friend in medical school.”
“Sawadee P’Mochi.”
“Sawadee,” replied Mochi out of being a requirement and not at will.
They stop again at another intersection because of a red light. Mochi takes his things and prepares to disembark.
“This is not your stop, Mochi,” said Tas.
“I’m buying dinner,” replied Mochi, evading Tas’ eyes.
“You can have dinner with us.”
“That is right, P’,” added Gan.
“Oh no no. Don’t let me spoil your date,” Mochi said without any sugarcoat.
“You can come with us, Mochi. I don’t mind,” said Tas, looking at Gan as if asking for approval. He turns back to Mochi for a response.
“Thank you, Tas, but I’ll be fine. I’ll just buy my food and eat dinner at the house.”
“Okay. If you want so.”
After passing the intersection, the driver stops at the side. Mochi hands Tas his share of the fare.
“You sure you don’t want to join us, Mochi? We’ll try that new steakhouse near here,” asked Tas in a last attempt to invite his friend.
“Enjoy your date, Tas,” answered Mochi. Afterwards, he turns to Gan, “Nice meeting you, nong.” He gets off the cab afterwards.
“Three is a crowd Tas, and I do mind,” said Mochi to himself, as he walks away from them.
Tas knows that steak is the food to which Mochi rarely declines when invited, and he likes it medium-well with lots of veggies, a little starch, and some gravy. However, today is that rare one day where he dismisses such an invitation. Mochi said no to Tas not really because he wants to eat at his house, but because he will be unable to stand seeing his classmate get comfortable with somebody other than him.
He did not buy any food for dinner. What he buys, instead, is a sundae on a cup with chocolate syrup and some nuts on top. He indulges in his dessert as he walks to his house following Waze’s directions.