Between Master and Slave (Manxman, Mature)

On a Train

As we leave the Bangkok city limits behind the scenery outside changes drastically. The houses are replaced by what looks like slums. These reach from almost the train tracks off in the distance as far as you can see, and the garbage is all the way to the tracks. The houses/huts are made of anything that can stand to build walls, mostly metal plates, but also wood pieces, shipping pallets and even plastic sheets. They all seem to be placed haphazardly. The different kind of materials are matched by an even greater number of colors that by looking at gives more the impression of an abstract piece of modern art then a house borough, as if an artist created the piece by recycling whatever he could find to cover the canvas. On some of the walls you can still see writings or pictures from old bill boards.
"I don't understand," I ask master after awhile, "I see kids and adults here and there, do they actually live here?"
"Yes, this is their village of sorts."
"All I see is walls and roofs, there are no roads. How do they even go from one place to the next?"
He laughs, not making fun of me, I think. It is more a relief of pressure, I hope. As his hysteria subsides, he carries on.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make of fun of you. Your question is actually valid. At the angle we see them, we don't notice them. But there are actually paths between the dwellings. They are very narrow. These people don't have cars, so as long as the paths are big enough to let people through, it is wide enough of a road."
"They must be very poor."
"By our standards, yes."
We pass a ditch where kids play in stagnating water.
"Don't they get sick playing in there?"
"I don't know. I guess that maybe they become immune, or maybe they do get sick. I don't have an answer for you."
I notice that on some houses there are satellite dishes.
"How come they don't have money to build a proper house, but yet they have satellite dishes and I assume also TV's inside?"
"As I said, by our standards they may be poor, but there is more then meets the eye." He thinks about it, "let me try an analogy. If you have a piece of land, but you cannot get a permit to build, then you can only make a temporary structure. So you may end up with something that looks like that." He points in the general direction of the houses. "Because there are no houses, officially, there is no need to build an aqueduct or wells for water, so if the kids want to freshen up in the heat they will go play in whatever water they can find. But, it does not mean that you can't afford an old TV, get yourself an old dish, point it at the satellite and you're in business. That TV becomes probably the entertainment center for the entire neighborhood."
"Like a community TV."
"You could call it that."
"And how do you explain that." I point at a dwelling that looks like a palace compared to the surrounding areas, complete with high walls, what looks like gardens and trees and maybe even a pool.
"Probably a bit better off and could afford building permits and the like."
"I guess there is really such a thing as a huge difference between the rich and the poor."
"I guess there is. You know what?"
"What?"
"I am glad you are seeing this. You will be able to better appreciate what you have."
I divert my attention from outside to master. He is looking straight at me, an amused expression of his face. He really looks a lot more relaxed then last night.
"Where are we going?" I ask curious.
"Penang" He replies.
"How come we go there?"
"It was the first ticket I could get out of Bangkok."
I take a closer look at the layout of the train. We are sitting on two seats facing each other with a small table in between. The seat are actually quite large and could probably sit two people not just one. A small corridor separates us from two identical seats on the other side. Before and after partition walls separates us from identical settings all along the train car. The entire car feels like restaurant cubicles, like those diners you see in American TV shows from the seventies with a small corridor in the middle to go to and fro.
The train stops at a station. In the blink of an eye vendors appear along the corridor selling all kind of things.
"How would you like to try some local meat balls?" Master asks me.
"Sure" I reply, even if, having looked at what is outside I am not sure my stomach can digest what will be offered, or if it's even sanitary. But master seems to know what is good so I will make a leap of faith.
He stops one of the ladies and tells her.
"Two shrimp, two meat, two fish."
"Sauce?"
"Yes please." Master replies.
She hands him two transparent plastic bags with six skewers inside. From a pot she carries, she pours a dark liquid in a third small transparent bag that she ties so that the liquid will not spill. Master pays her and she moves on.
"Do you want to try the fish?" He asks me.
"I guess so."
He takes one skewer out. I see that is lined with six small white balls, a bit smaller then golf balls. I guess the balls are made of some white fish, or so I hope. He carefully opens the bag with the sauce as he instructs.
"You dip the ball in the sauce and then you eat it."
"The ball feels like steamed though," I say, "from the looks of it, not very inviting." I squish it with my thumb and index fingers. "Definitely steamed though, not that I ever had steamed though, but I have worked making plenty of croissants at the Masseria that I am sure that if I were to steam though I would end up like this."
Master just stares at me amused without speaking, maybe he is thinking of the croissants I had to make all summer long as he hates making the dough for them, too many steps. Uncertain, I dip the first ball in the dark brown sauce, more like black water. I remember the water the kids were bathing in and I wonder where does the sauce comes from. If Master says it's ok, it must be so, I tell myself as I bite.
The first thing I notice is the saltiness of the sauce. It is a mixture of soy sauce, spices and maybe water. Following, I taste the fish. It is definitely white fish, chopped so finely that is almost a purée, probably mixed with some flower to give it consistency. And yes, it must be steamed from the consistency.
"Well?" Master asks, as I take a second bite eating the rest of the fish ball and remove the second from the skewer.
"Definitely, steamy though. But it tastes very good." I say with my mouth full as I dip the second ball. Master laughs as he proceeds to dip his own fish ball in the sauce.
A woman passes with a cooler.
"Do you have beer?" Master asks her.
"Beer, yes." She replies as she opens the cooler.
"Two" Master stresses with two fingers.
She gives him two cold cans and moves on after being paid.
Suddenly just as the vendors appeared, they all vanish and the train starts his run again. As we eat and drink, I ask.
"When will we arrive in Penang?"
"Tomorrow late morning."
I test my chair again.
"At least the chair is big enough, hopefully nobody will come sit beside me and I will not have to share."
"You will not have to share. They are assigned seat, each passenger has one. As a matter of fact," he carries on, "after supper this cubicle becomes beds."
I look at the seats and table in between.
"Everything seems fixed in place. So I am not sure how it will become beds. There are no doors between compartments, no much privacy."
I look at the compartment again, maybe I missed something. On the ceiling at the center of each compartment above the passage way is old style metal fan out of a sixties movie. Not a fan, but fans, four actually attached to a center shaft at different angles. They rotate around the shaft at the same time that they blow, which creates even too much air in my opinion. I also notice the metal plate on top of the window, running the entire length of the compartment and tied to the metal ceiling with leather straps.
"I guess that is the beds." I point at the thing. "Kind of small for two, but it will have to do."
"That thing is part of it," master replies.
The rest of the day carries on as we move along the countryside. Eventually is supper time and we move to the restaurant car.
During supper I have to ask master.
"What will happen once we arrive in Penang?"
Understanding what I mean by that question, master sobers instantly, his good humor evaporating and making me regret the question I asked.
"We will stay there a couple of days. Hopefully, it will be enough to make them give up finding us so that they stop looking. We will go back to Italy and if De Laurentis has not contacted us yet, we will go back to Florence."
Just the name of that city sends shivers down my spine remembering what happened to me last time I was there. Sensing my unease, master carries on.
"Don't worry Francesco. This time I will not leave you alone. It will be OK, I promise you."
When we come back from the supper carriage, I don't recognize the train car anymore. What seemed our fixed chairs, they are joined together, the two back of the chairs and the two seats to make a bed on which an additional padded mattress is installed to make it more comfortable. The odd angled top plate is lowered to make an upper bunk bed. Curtains separate each bunk bed, one hanging from the ceiling gives privacy to the top bunk bed and one hanging from a rod on the side of the top bunk bed to give privacy to the lower bunk. White sheets, pillows and other accoutrements make them all real beds and not just bunks on which you sleep. Ladders at one end allow the person to climb to the top bunk all creating very private spaces for each passenger.
"Amazing," I say, "I was wondering how it would be done. I would never have imagined this."
"Glad you like it," Master replies amused. "By the way, there is no way that I will start climbing ladders, so you will take the top bed."
"As you wish master," I tell him as I skip on my ladder to reach my bunk my worries almost forgotten.

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A/N:
Here is another chapter of this fascinating story. I hope you are enjoying it. Please let me know if you feel I should change something. Don't forget to vote if you liked it... ;) it's always a pleasure to know you're enjoying my writing.