4 The Farewell Spinach

At the community field:

Tee kicked the football back and forth with his friends on the dusty street, the ball skidding across the ground as they passed it in quick, playful motions. Laughter filled the air, the sound of the game echoing around the quiet neighborhood. As they played, one of his friends, who had noticed Tee's more distant expression, paused and looked at him.

"Hey, Tee," his friend called out, dribbling the ball toward him. "So, I heard your family's moving. Is that true?"

Tee's face darkened slightly, his mood shifting at the mention of it. He kicked the ball harder than necessary, sending it across the street. "Yeah, it's true," he muttered, trying to brush it off with a shrug, but his friends were persistent.

"Really? That sucks, man. Why are you leaving?" another friend asked, kicking the ball back to him.

Tee sighed, looking down at his shoes, avoiding their curious gazes. "I don't know," he replied, his voice quieter now. "I guess it's what my dad wants. He says it's for the better, but I don't really get it. I don't want to leave everything behind."

His friends nodded in understanding but didn't press him further, sensing his discomfort. They continued playing, but Tee's mind was elsewhere. He wasn't looking forward to the move, and the thought of leaving his friends, his home, and the life he knew felt overwhelming. With a final kick, he jogged off the field, heading back to the house, trying to shake off the heaviness in his chest.

When Tee entered the house, he found Kamon seated on the patio, her legs crossed as she stared out into the yard, lost in her own thoughts. The warm sunlight bathed her, casting a soft glow on her face. Tee hesitated for a moment before walking over and sitting beside her, his usual energy replaced by a quiet unease

"You okay?" Kamon asked, her voice gentle as she turned her head to look at him.

Tee stared ahead, his fingers drumming absently on the armrest. "I'm fine," he said, though it was clear he wasn't. "Just... thinking."

Kamon gave him a sympathetic glance. "You're not happy about the move, are you?"

Tee's lips pressed into a thin line, his frustration surfacing. "No, I'm not," he admitted, his tone sharper than he intended. "I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave my friends, my school... this place. It doesn't make sense."

Kamon nodded, her expression understanding. "I know, Tee. I feel the same way. I'm going to miss everything too... and Ploy. But... we don't really have a choice, do we?"

Tee ran a hand through his hair, trying to fight the irritation bubbling inside him. "Dad says it's for the best, but I don't get it. Why is it always about what's best for everyone else except me?"

Kamon turned to face him fully, her gaze soft. "Maybe he just wants a better life for us, Tee. I'm scared, too. But we have to trust him, even if it's hard."

Tee was quiet for a moment, his mind turning over her words. "I don't know. I just wish it wasn't happening. Everything's changing so fast."

Kamon reached over, giving her brother's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know, I know. But we'll get through it together. We're family, and that's all that matters, right?"

Tee looked at her, the frustration still present but softened by her words. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess so."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air as they both wrestled with the same difficult reality: change was coming, and they didn't have the luxury of stopping it. But for now, they had each other—and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to get them through it.

Kamon heads out the door, muttering to herself, "If Aunt Noi's hiding the keys again, I'm going to start charging rent for this search party." She approaches the door, knocking with exaggerated frustration, and the familiar click of the latch is heard. Aunt Noi opens the door with a smile so innocent, Kamon almost suspects she's secretly hoarding the keys as a personal collection. Without a word, Aunt Noi hands her the keys. "You're welcome," she says, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Kamon takes them with a deep sigh of relief. 

"I swear, I'm the only one who remembers where these are," she mutters to herself, shaking her head as she walks back home, already mentally drafting her resignation letter for Key Finder Extraordinaire. 

As Kamon walks back, she starts brainstorming dinner plans. "Okay, let's try this again. No more burnt rice, no more charred vegetables... maybe just a little bit of smoke. That's totally fine, right? It'll just add to the ambiance." She envisions herself as the next Gordon Ramsay, if Gordon Ramsay was into mildly terrifying smoke-filled kitchens. "This time, I've got it under control. Probably." 

She heads to the kitchen and grabs a knife to chop some veggies with such enthusiasm, you'd think she was preparing for a Michelin-starred meal. Her focus is so intense that when the knife slips, she lets out a yelp. "Ah, that's my finger... but I'm fine. I'll just slap a band-aid on it like the warrior I am." She grabs a band-aid, casually wrapping it around her finger, while still looking at the knife like it owes her an apology.

Meanwhile, from the next room, her dad's voice floats in, getting louder. "What? A moving truck? Yeah, let's book it for next Thursday!" Kamon freezes mid-chop. Her knife hovers in the air as her brain processes the words. "Wait, what? We're moving?"

Her dad's voice yells back, "I'm just making sure everything's ready! Can you help pack your stuff?"

"Sure, right after I finish cooking. No big deal," Kamon mutters, forcing a smile. "I'm not in a rush to... lose my childhood bedroom or anything."

Later, dinner is served, and Kamon presents her slightly questionable culinary creation. It's definitely... edible. As they sit down to eat, her dad starts casually, "So, about the move… we're going to need a huge farewell party."

Kamon chokes on her food, coughing dramatically. "A farewell party? Are we moving to another country, or is it just across town?"

Her grandmother, who's been quietly working on her own dish, chimes in from across the table. "I'm thinking of making spinach for the party - because nothing says 'goodbye' like spinach."

Kamon blinks, incredulity written all over her face. "Spinach? Really?"

Grandma nods, like she's just proposed a gourmet five-course meal. "Spinach. It's the food of the gods. It's got… nutrients. You kids don't appreciate real food."

Kamon blinks again. "Nutrients? Seriously? I think the only thing I'm going to appreciate is the 'goodbye' part of the party... if I can make it through that spinach." 

After dinner, Kamon retreats to the couch, determined to lose herself in a series. "This is fine," she murmurs to herself. "Just me, my show, and zero responsibilities." She settles in, the soft glow of the screen making her forget the spinach saga for a while. Hours later, though, her eyelids are drooping, and she sighs. "Okay, okay, I'll get some sleep. Tomorrow's a new day, and I'm going to be super productive. Maybe."

The next morning, Kamon stumbles outside, still half-asleep, and finds Grandpa blissfully harvesting strawberries like it's an Olympic sport. He hands her one with the air of a proud farmer. "Ah, Kamon! You're up early!" 

She squints at the bright morning sun. "Grandpa, it's 10 AM. The only luck I need right now is not getting stuck in a traffic jam when we move."

Grandpa gives her a knowing look, his expression unexpectedly philosophical. "Ah, yes, moving... it's a big change. But you'll make new memories."

Kamon looks at him, her expression flat. "Yeah, new memories. Like the one where I pack up everything I own, and we leave behind the only place I've ever known."

Grandma's voice echoes from the kitchen. "Kamon! Help me with this spinach! And please, answer the phone! Mrs. Wichai again - she says the neighbors need to know the exact date of the move!"

Kamon feels her inner peace evaporate. "Okay, okay. Grandma's planning the party, Grandpa's giving me unsolicited strawberry wisdom, and I'm just trying to survive this."

She steps outside, needing an escape from the chaos. Kamon makes her way to the playground, her feet lightly brushing the ground as she finds solace on a swing. She begins to swing, back and forth, pretending the world doesn't exist for a few moments. Then, just as she's about to let go of all her worries, Ploy 

appears at the edge of the swings, her face full of curiosity.

"Hey, Kamon! You're moving, right?"

Kamon glances over at Ploy and shrugs, a sigh escaping her lips. "Yeah, looks like it. Big farewell party, spinach... the works."

Ploy raises an eyebrow. "Spinach? What's that about?"

"Don't ask," Kamon says with a dramatic wave of her hand. "It's just the most 'moving' food I can think of. Apparently, it's 'nutritious' or something. I don't know. Grandma's got weird ideas."

Ploy laughs. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I'll try to make it sound more exciting when I tell people. 'Kamon's family's throwing a farewell party, and guess what? Spinach is on the menu!'"

Kamon rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Yeah, tell everyone it's a 'spinach-themed' party. I'm sure they'll love it."

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, the swing creaking softly with every movement. Then Ploy looks over at Kamon, her voice more serious now. "We'll keep in touch, right? I'll message you on Line?"

Kamon smirks. "Yeah, because who needs face-to-face conversations when we have Line?" She pulls out her phone, tapping it with exaggerated importance. "Just don't send any spinach emojis, okay? I'm still trying to recover from that trauma."

As Kamon strolls back home, the sun gently warming her face, she spots a group of kids playing by the sidewalk. Their laughter fills the air, and for a moment, Kamon watches them with a slight smile, thinking how carefree they look. She shakes her head. "Ah, to be young and clueless again," she mutters, admiring their boundless energy before continuing on her way. "I'm sure they have no idea that life is about to hit them with responsibilities. Bless their hearts."

 Closing Remarks:

As Kamon reflects on the whirlwind of emotions that accompany her impending move, she realizes that change, no matter how unwelcome, is a constant in life. The laughter of her friends, the comforting routine of her family, and even the strange idea of a farewell party centered around spinach - each of these pieces of her life will soon become memories. Through it all, Kamon's determination to embrace the next chapter, even if reluctantly, shines through. In the end, no matter how far she goes, her memories and connections will always remain a part of her.