Chanphal SOK
The buried treasure
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The buried treasure
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The buried treasure
The buried treasure Written by Chanphal SOK Translated by Yin Luoth Corrected by T. Yamada
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The buried treasure
Liberty Association #53 CE0, St 242 Chaktomuk, Daun Penh, Phnom Penh Cambodia Blog : khmerphnompenh.wordpress.com Public relation : Bolin Davith cambocanada@gmail.com
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The buried treasure
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The buried treasure
President of Liberty Association : Phalla Ker Editor : Santepheap Lim Writers : Vathana Serei Kanitha Neng Chanphal Sok Rachana Im Proofreader : Oudom Heng Website designer : Boeun Tim Public relation : Davith Bolin Chanphal SOK
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The buried treasure
ŠCHANPHAL SOK
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents featured in this work are imaginary. Any resemblance to real events or person is coincidental. Chanphal SOK
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Do you believe in dreams? I dreamed that someone told me to dig for a box of treasure! Maybe it was not an angel who told me, maybe it was a ghost, meandering about, who had come to tease me.
This morning the sun is smiling at me showing its teeth. I am thinking about my dream last night: a box of gold buried on a hill under the palm trees. I have mixed feelings. I’m not too excited, but if I were to say that I am unconcerned that would be a lie. True. I have never thought that fortune would come to me easily. From childhood to adulthood, I’m fed up with my unfortunate life. Why would someone tell me to dig for treasure during a sound Chanphal SOK
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sleep? Should it be a real box of gold, as the ignorant person I am, I wouldn’t know how to make use of it. The most I could do is buy food, eat, and sleep, turning myself into a pig.
No matter what I think, I am walking toward the spot in my dream. I walk with my mind full of doubt. The grass on the way looks like it has been trampled by oxen and cows; the ground looks like military horses have just passed through. No, it’s not military horses or oxen and cows, it’s villagers. I suddenly stop with my mouth opens. Oh! Villagers are gathering under the palm trees making a noisy sound like sparrows arriving back at their nests in the evening. Looking at the crowd, I see black haired people right under the very palm trees that I’ve seen in my dream.
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Oh my goodness, I am a little late. Under the palm trees on the termite hill there really is a buried treasure. Who has come to tell this to the villagers in their dreams?
“Hey, diggers have you seen any treasure yet?” A person who is standing beyond the crowd yells out; he won’t get a chance to dig.
“Proust! Don’t be confused. It’s not the falling sound of palm fruit. It is the sound of two men fighting each other, and one of them has fallen down. Should palm fruit fall on them, it will cause lights to dance in their eyes.
“Hey, stop fighting! Evil has taken you over. You may not have a chance to share the treasure,” an
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old lady yells. Those two stop fighting and come back to join the crowd.
Phang! A child cries. Everyone turns in the same direction. A policeman, who is acting like a big shot, is holding a handgun. He shoots up in the air, looks down and all around, then arrogantly commands: “Get off this termite hill right away! Back out!” The villagers sound panicked when they see an old lady has fallen down.
Phang! Another sound of a gun shot.
The
villagers look at each other. A policeman yells, “Don’t mess up, take this old lady away to her house. She is dying; no one is helping. Who is the child’s mother?” The baby is noisily crying, “Take him away for feeding. This crowd is too
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rowdy. What do you mean, a buried treasure in the rice field? Go home right away!”
“We are not stupid enough to go! Do you plan to take this treasure yourself?” said a courageous young man.
Phang! The courageous young man turns blue. The policeman who has used gun power yells again: “This is the order of the head of the commune. This is the last order. Go home right away! Treasure or no treasure, leave it to the commune team. It is not for all of you to have. If it is a real treasure, the head of the commune will report to the level of the government office because it is a national treasure. They will bring money back for commune development.”
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All the villagers keep quiet, watching the National Working Group as they continued to dig according to their passion. The faces of the commune head and his wife showed excitement the same way a gambler looks anticipating a win. The village head shows up and smiles at the commune head who say, “If the head of the commune does not get involved, the villagers will fight to get a share and it will be difficult to divide the treasure.”
“Hey! Should it be a real treasure, I will give you some. But is it true that it is a real treasure?” The head of the village asks.
“Yes, It is certain. All the villagers had the same dream. I, my wife and my three children also dreamed it.” Chanphal SOK
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One of the villagers responded. “I wonder why all the villagers had the same dream?’
Oh! The villagers are still not going home. They are still wandering around the diggers. Each villager may think that the policeman doesn’t have enough bullets to kill everyone. Should the policeman kill, he may kill somebody else before he kills them. As for me I stand there and observe the people for awhile for my own selfsatisfaction. Suddenly, I see a metal box. I hear a shout from the head of the commune: “Bring it up; let me open it myself.”
The villagers squeeze in to see the head of the commune open the box. I think to myself, let it be, treasure or no treasure; there are so many people. I don’t think I deserve to share any part Chanphal SOK
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of it. I walk back home indifferently, having left for about three minutes.
Kreang!
It was not a gun shot. My ears told me, but the sound of a land mine explosion.
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