Even Thai Girls Cry

by J. F. Gump

  For this past Valentine’s Day, Sawat had bought her a cellular phone. They couldn’t really afford it but she couldn’t refuse it. The following week she had started her new job in Bangkok.

  ***************

  The bus hostess offering a complementary meal interrupted her reminiscing of Sawat and their engagement. Math welcomed the distraction, though she merely picked at her food. Her stomach was still upset from her earlier suffering in the heat of the broken down bus. Besides, she had never liked the boxed lunches served by the bus company. She had often wondered where they found such incredibly bad Thai cooks.

  Outside, the day was fading to shades of gray. As if on cue, the streetlights lining the freeway sparked to life. The bus was moving faster now but they were still inside the city limits of the sprawling megalopolis of Bangkok. With a population of over ten million people, Bangkok stretched for kilometers in every direction. She glanced at her watch. It was seven o’clock. She had a sudden hope she would arrive in Pattaya by nine.

  For a while, she watched through the bus window as they passed a continuous stream of shops, malls and factories. She was on the verge of sleep when the uninvited memories of Sawat crept back into her head.

  From the very day Math had started her new job in Bangkok, Sawat had been accusing her of having affairs with other men. It wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t listen to anything she said. His misguided jealousy distressed her so much that she sometimes became physically ill. There had been times when she wanted to end her relationship with Sawat, but her Thai sense of loyalty would not let her. Math had continued to come home every weekend.

  As the weeks passed, Sawat had become ever more abusive - not physically, but verbally and emotionally. Not a weekend passed without an argument. Typically, Sawat would find some reason to explode at Math then storm out of the house leaving her to cry alone. More recently he had become unresponsive to her presence. His blatant indifference had been painful.

  Just before their engagement ended, Math had a one night affair with a police captain in Bangkok. She had not planned it but she hadn’t rejected the policeman’s advances either. She needed someone to love and Sawat already thought she was having an affair. She did it out of need and spite. Afterwards, she felt dirty and cheap.

  The guilt of her affair had eaten at her for two days before she decided she had to get away from Bangkok and what she had done. She wanted to make one last attempt to save her relationship with Sawat. She asked her manager for some time off and it was allowed. On her way to Phitsanulok, she silently prayed, asking for Sawat to be surprised and happy.

  Sawat had been surprised, but no one had been happy. Her memories of what she had seen and what she had done that night were as clear as yesterday. It had been the first time she ever fired a gun but her aim had been very good. Two of the three shots had hit Sawat. The impact from the .22 caliber bullets had barely made him stagger, but the shock had made his knees buckle and he fell to the floor. Calmly, she had laid the pistol down and called the police on her new cell phone.

  Sawat’s wounds had not been life-threatening or even very serious. The police had considered the whole affair domestic violence and waited for Sawat to decide her fate. Typical of Thai law in domestic cases, the injured party could decide whether or not to press charges. Sawat had six months to decide and he was in no hurry about it. Until he decided, Math was required to go to the police station every two weeks to report her whereabouts and her activities.

  She had continued to work in Bangkok and returned to Phitsanulok only to visit her family and to report to the police. Then, just two months ago, her job with the finance company had been terminated.

  Math had contacted Sawat only once since the shooting. She had called to beg for his mercy and to ask him to drop the charges. In that conversation, Sawat had made his feelings clear. If he could not have her, then no one else would either.

  Since that time she had waited for the worst, but it never came. Sawat just kept telling the police he hadn’t decided. He still had eight more weeks before the case would simply be dropped. Meanwhile, the threat hung over her like a cobra poised to strike, like the deadly sword of the mythical monkey-man from Thai legends.

  ***************

  The bus bounced over a pothole, jolting Math awake. She looked out through the window. The rain had stopped and every trace of daylight had vanished into the night. She was no longer in Bangkok. Outside, there was little to see except passing cars and lights from the occasional roadside shops and restaurants.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had slept and she didn’t see anything to help her know how far they had traveled. She turned on her reading light and glanced at her watch. It was 7:45 p.m. She flicked the light off and continued staring into the night, looking for a road sign that would tell her where she was. In a while she saw one that read, Pattaya - 60km. Traffic was moving smoothly and the bus was far south of Bangkok’s traffic and construction. With luck they would be in Pattaya by eight-thirty.

  Math noticed a slight but unpleasant odor emanating from her armpits. Dear Buddha, how she needed a bath. She spent the rest of the trip realizing that she too could smell like a farang.

  Chapter 4

  The bus arrived at the Pattaya terminal at 8:40 p.m. Ten minutes later, Math had collected her small cardboard suitcase from baggage claim. She called her brother’s house again. Still there was no answer. Bad luck lady, she thought to herself.

  After jostling with the other passengers and bargaining with a motorcycle-taxi driver for a minute, she was on her way to Anan’s house. At least she hoped she was. Her memory of where he lived had dimmed and the driver didn’t know the street. She gave directions as best as she could remember. She wondered what she would do if she couldn’t find her brother’s house.

  As they rode, she began to worry. She had heard the stories about motorcycle-taxi drivers taking young female fares onto lonely highways, then raping them or worse. She remembered the short stretch of deserted road on the way to Anan’s house and said a quick prayer for her safety. The driver swerved in and out of the traffic with brash recklessness. Maybe, she thought, rape was the least of her worries. Her prayers must have worked, because fifteen minutes later she arrived unharmed at what she hoped was her brother’s house.

  She paid the driver and carried her suitcase to the small front porch. The door opened on her second knock. The man who answered was not Anan. Math didn’t recognize him. A chill crept down her arms. What if she had the wrong house?

  “Who are you?” she asked, her voice quavering with uncertainty.

  The man stared at her, his eyes glassy, his gaze penetrating and not polite. “Who are you?” he asked in return.

  She didn’t like the look on his face. She thought maybe he was drunk or on drugs. Then again, maybe she was just being paranoid. “I am Math,” she said. “Anan is my brother. I have come to visit him. Is he here?”

  “No,” the man answered. “Was he expecting you?”

  “No, he wasn’t.” She felt a mild sense of relief, knowing she had the right house. “Where is my brother and who are you?”

  “My name is Ziriwat. I am Anan’s business partner. I have heard him mention your name. Your brother has gone to Chiang Mai to visit your sister and to see about some business there. He didn’t say how long he would be away. Maybe just a day or two.”

  “Why are you here? Anan never told me anyone lived with him.”

  “I don’t live here all the time. Anan said I could stay here while he is gone. It’s a nice house so I have accepted his generous offer.” Ziriwat paused and stared at Math for a long moment. “I guess I am being rude. I have not invited you inside your own brother’s house.” He turned away from the door and motioned at her with his hand, “Please, come in.”

  Math’s female intuition sounded an alarm. She wasn’t sure what to do, but decided she had little choice for th
e moment. She forced herself calm, picked up her suitcase and followed him inside. She was careful to make sure she didn’t shut the door behind her. “Are you staying here tonight?”

  “Well, of course,” Ziriwat smiled, his voice purred. “You can stay too, if you want. After all, it is your brother’s house. You will be safe here.” His eyes scanned the length of her body.

  His blatant inspection made Math’s skin crawl. She wanted to turn and run out the door but she wasn’t sure where she would go if she did. She wasn’t sure the man could be trusted, but for the moment she needed a shower and some time to think. Meanwhile, she would try to find out exactly what sort of person he really was. After all, the man was her brother’s partner, and it was possible that her first impression could be wrong.

  “Sure, I will stay here. It’s my brother’s house and I feel safe enough,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as Ziriwat. “Which bedroom can I use?”

  He pointed to one of the doors. “That room is where I will sleep.”

  “Then I will sleep in that one,” she said, pointing to the other door. “Are there any clean towels? I need to shower. I have been on the bus since early this morning and I am very dirty.”

  Ziriwat found a towel and gave it to Math. She put her suitcase in the bedroom, then went to the shower. She ignored his stares as she passed through the living room.

  The water was barely lukewarm, but it felt good. Within five minutes she was finished and happy to be clean again. She wrapped the towel around herself and pulled back the shower curtain. There stood Ziriwat, ogling.

  “You left the door unlocked,” he smiled.

  “It’s cold in here,” Math said, unnerved by his boldness. “I must get dry and into clean clothes.” She grabbed the dirty clothes she had laid on the basin and hurried to her bedroom. She shut and locked the door behind her. At that instant, she decided her first impression of Ziriwat had been correct. Also, she decided not to spend the night here. He might be harmless, but she didn’t trust him. The way he had looked at her was frightening and disgusting. Buddha only knew what he might do to her if she stayed. Math slipped into clean clothes, combed her hair and put on new make-up, all in record time. She phoned her sister’s number in Chiang Mai, but the call would not connect. She took a deep breath to calm herself, scrutinized her make-up in the mirror one last time, then opened the bedroom door.

  Ziriwat was sitting on the sofa. He stood when she stepped into the living room. “You look very nice,” he said, giving her a brief inspection. “Are you going out?”

  “I am going to Soi 2,” Math answered, walking toward the front door.

  “Going to work?” he asked, his words polite but his tone insinuating. His eyes drifted down, stopping where her tight black slacks hugged her hips and thighs.

  “No,” she replied disdainfully. She remembered her earlier conversation with Tana about the work in Pattaya. “I don’t even know what you are talking about. I am going to see an old friend. I will be back later. I should only be gone for a couple of hours.” She forced herself to smile. “But I still plan to stay here. That’s okay with you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Ziriwat answered immediately, his excitement rising at her unexpected promise. “I will be waiting for you when you come home. You won’t have to worry about coming back to an empty house. Do you need a ride? I have a motorcycle.”

  “Thank you, that is very kind, but I would not want to impose.”

  “Mai pen rai, never mind,” he said. “I was going to Pattaya tonight anyway.”

  She struggled with her caution for a moment before deciding it would probably be okay if he drove her to Pattaya. He might try to slip into her bed if she spent the night, but she figured he would behave himself in public. “Thank you, I do need a ride. Would you mind if we don’t leave for a few minutes? I am hungry and would like to get something to eat. There is a restaurant on the corner down the street. I saw it when I came here. Could you pick me up there in fifteen minutes?”

  Ziriwat didn’t let his eyes leave her body. “Yes, fifteen minutes.”

  Math walked out through the front door. She was happy to be away from her brother’s partner. The guy gave her the creeps. She wasn’t really hungry but she did want to meet the lady who ran the restaurant. Anan had told her that he and the owner were good friends. Since she had no plans to come back to Anan’s house until he came home, maybe the owner would help her to know when Anan had returned.

  Typical of many small Thai restaurants, this one was open-air with fans whirling overhead to help cool the customers and to blow away the flies. The cooking food smelled wonderful, even though she wasn’t hungry. The restaurant owner was a woman, whom Math guessed to be in her late thirties or early forties.

  “Sawasdee ka, good evening,” Math said politely, as she sat at a table.

  “Sawasdee ka,” the lady replied. “My name is Mon. Can I get you something to eat or drink? I make terrific spicy pork and delicious papaya salad.”

  “No, thank you,” Math answered. “I am not very hungry and I must leave in a few minutes. My name is Math, I am the sister of Anan.”

  “Oh,” the lady said, surprised. “I have heard Anan say your name. He has mentioned you and your sisters to me before. And a younger brother too, if I remember correctly. I am pleased to meet you, and surprised too. Anan did not say you were coming to visit him.”

  “Khop khun ka, thank you,” Math said. “I am pleased to meet you, also. Anan didn’t know I was arriving today. When I called to tell him I was coming to Pattaya, he never answered his phone. I decided to come anyway. I never thought he would not be home. I think I should have planned better but it’s too late for that. Anan has told me that you and he are good friends. I wanted to meet you. I was hoping you might know when he is coming home.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know. He only said he would be gone for a couple of days, maybe longer. He went to see your sister in Chiang Mai. He has been talking about expanding his business there.”

  “Yes, I know that already. Anan’s partner, Ziriwat, told me.”

  “Humph! Ziriwat!” Mon said the name harshly. “I don’t like him much. He has been staying at your brother’s house the last few days. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he has had some strange people stopping by since Anan has been gone. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust him. His family has a little bit of money and he uses people. I don’t know why your brother would want him as a business partner. I suggest you be careful around him.”

  “Don’t worry,” Math said, noting Mon’s reaction, “I have seen enough of Ziriwat to know I don’t want to be near him more than necessary. I have already decided I will not stay at my brother’s house until he comes home. I have some money and I will stay in a hotel.”

  It was a lie. Math had money, but not much. If she was lucky, she might be able to afford a cheap room for one night. She didn’t know where she would stay. She had made a plan while she dressed, but it was not a very good plan.

  “Some of the Pattaya hotels can be expensive,” Mon warned. “And some of the things that go on there are not polite. You are welcome to stay at my house, if you want.”

  “No, but thank you anyway,” she declined. “You are very generous. I will be okay. If you could tell Anan to call me on my cell phone when he gets home, I would be most grateful.”

  “Of course, I will do that.”

  Math wrote her number on a piece of paper and handed it to Mon.

  “Here, I will give you my phone number too.” Mon scribbled it down. “You can call if you don’t hear from me or Anan, or if you need anything.”

  “Khop khun ka, thank you. You are as nice as Anan said.”

  “Mai pen rai, never mind,” Mon said, blushing. “Anan is my friend. You are his sister, so you are my friend too.”

  “Thank you,” Math said. “By the way, I like papaya salad ve
ry much. Next time I come here, I would like to try yours. Anan has told me it is excellent.”

  “I will have to thank your brother for his compliment.”

  Ziriwat roared up on a motorcycle. “Ready to go?” he shouted.

  Math nodded, said goodbye, and then stepped away from the restaurant.

  Mon gave Math a worried look as she climbed aboard the motorcycle. Ziriwat revved the engine and raced down the street.

  Math wished Ziriwat would slow down but didn’t say anything. She suspected he was trying to impress her with the motorcycle’s power and his driving skills. She was not going to satisfy his ego by commenting on either. Instead, she held on tight and hoped for the best.

  Within minutes they were entering the northern part of Pattaya. Ziriwat turned right off Sukhumvit and onto North Pattaya Road. They passed the bus station where Math had arrived just an hour or so before. Gliding down North Pattaya, they passed City Hall and the Thai Garden Restaurant. A minute later they turned left onto Second Road, heading south. Ziriwat stopped the motorcycle in front of the Big C Shopping Center. Across the street sat the outdoor beer bars of Soi 2.

  “Here you are, ,” he announced. “Do you want me to pick you up later? I can if you want.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that,” Math replied. “I will pay a motorcycle-taxi to take me home.” It was another lie. She had no intentions of going back to Anan’s house until he came home from Chiang Mai. But Ziriwat didn’t need to know that and she wasn’t about to tell him.

  “That could be dangerous for a beautiful young woman,” he commented, eyeing her with a combination of worry and lust.

  “I can take care of myself,” she responded. “Thank you for the ride.” With that, she walked across Second Road toward the lights and music of the Soi 2 beer bars.

  Standing at the top of the street and looking at the scene below, she realized it had not changed much since she had seen it last. She hoped she would find someone she knew. Her plan depended on it.