"Are you waiting here for someone?"
"If someone comes, yes."
"And if no one does?"
Boi smiled. "Then I would eventually leave, wouldn't I?"
"I suppose so."
A couple of workers began to sweep water out of both sides of the arched entry. As Nawin watched these automatons and their redundant strokes he remembered one time when he went into the stadium to jog and dabble in studies toward a Ph.D. which he had no real interest to complete. There he saw a group of workers cutting down a small tree, sawing large portions into more manageable pieces, and carrying those pieces to a pile. The workers looked like an entire family with the variety of their ages and sexes. Two of the adults who were moving the pieces cajoled a small boy into believing that he was instrumental in removing the branches for as each was being lifted he would hold onto a bit of the center and they would praise his efforts. They were determining his fate by brainwashing him with positive reinforcement but at least, Nawin thought then, he would be content with his station in life. Who was to say that the boy when grown would not feel sorry for people like himself who did not know what to do with all the days of their lives.
A sales mendicant came by with a dozen or more umbrellas in his hand. "Do you want one?" Nawin asked.
"All of them. Then I can stand out here all day and have something to sell." The voice was not earnest and it engendered no sympathy.
"Two umbrellas please—any color, I don't care."
"100 baht," said the salesman. Nawin paid the money and handed one to the Laotian.