4. Wan, Where My Gaze Lingered

Ain... my daughter Ain, I miss her. She's back. I want to cry too, but I can't. I have to protect her now, more than Ain, who is already gone. "Yeah, I miss her too." I hold her as she collapses and lay her on the bed. By the head of the bed, Ain, wearing a raincoat with Joa-ping drawn on it, is laughing on a seesaw. It's okay now. The rainy season is over, and tomorrow will be sunny. I change her clothes and cover her with a blanket. I leave the room, close the veranda window, pick up Ain's rain boots, and go to the small room. The room, now without its owner, is still as bright and cheerful as when she was here. I place Ain's rain boots in a deep spot inside, then leave. The room closes again, and I open the Bacardi 151 hidden deep in the refrigerator, pour it into a glass, and turn off all the lights in the house. I feel the strong liquor travel down my esophagus, spreading through my body. Right now, I hurt inside because of the strong liquor. That's why I'm crying. Because of the alcohol.