by J. F. Gump
“I didn’t see your mother again for nearly eight months. The next time she came to my shop she was very pregnant and she was crying. She told me the baby could only be mine from the night we made love. She said she had tried to abort the baby at four months, but it hadn’t worked. She was scared, terrified the baby would be some sort of monster because of what she had done.”
His words came faster now, as if he wanted to get everything out of himself as quickly as he could. “I didn’t know what to do. I made her an appointment with the best doctor in town. He pronounced the baby in fine health. A month later your sister, Math, was born.”
“As soon as I knew your mother and your sister were safe and well, I sold my shop and became a monk. I could no longer live as a person, knowing the shame I had caused your mother. I isolated myself here at the temple. I had my friends and my brother watch your family and let me know when Math needed anything. When she finally had the job in Bangkok, I thought everything would be okay. How was I to know what would happen to the Thai economy? There is no more money and I cannot help her anymore.”
“Your sister is cursed, Nuang, because she is a bastard child. She is double cursed because she is my bastard child.”
Jum broke down and cried openly.
Nuang’s heart ached at the old monk’s pain. She discarded all rules of politeness and took him in her arms. She held him tight and cried along with him.
After a long while, his tears stopped. He raised his head and said, “I am very ill, Nuang. I need someone in your family to forgive me before I die. Can you forgive me?”
“You are a good man, Jum,” she said tenderly. “But you know it is not my forgiveness that you need. You need your daughter’s forgiveness. I will find Math and I will bring her to you.” She hesitated then asked very softly, “How long will you live?”
“The doctors always say something different. Sometimes they say six months and sometimes they say a year or longer. They don’t know. Only God and Buddha know for sure.”
“I promise, that before you die, I will bring your daughter to you. I will leave tomorrow to find her.”
“Please,” he begged, “When you bring Math to me, don’t tell her what I have told you. I think I should be the one to explain everything.”
“Why didn’t you tell her before? I know you have talked with her many times.”
“I don’t know. I wanted to, but I was afraid. I was afraid she might hate me.”
“Then you don’t know your own daughter as well as you should. Math could never hate you. I will respect your wish, though. When I find Math, I will bring her here for you to tell her everything.”
“You cannot bring her here,” he said. “Tomorrow I will be gone. I have asked to be moved to another temple. I will visit with my brother for a few days and then I am going to the temple on the mountain above Chiang Mai.”
“Math and I will find you there, then,” she promised.
“Thank you. I must go now. I have many things to do before I leave.”
“I must go now, too,” she said. “I have decided to find Math starting today.”
She knew her face still looked bad and she was not quite ready to go home, but she didn’t want to stay in the temple any longer, either. Finding Math gave her a good excuse to leave without seeming impolite.
Nuang went back to her room and recounted the money Math had given her. More than enough for the bus fare to Pattaya and back to Chiang Mai. She repacked her suitcase, said quick prayer for safety, then left the temple.
She knew Math had gone to Pattaya to be with Mike. She went directly to the bus station and bought a ticket to Bangkok and onward to Pattaya. It was Thursday afternoon. She would be in Pattaya by Friday morning.
Nuang fretted as she rode the bus. She had never been to Pattaya before and she didn’t know where her brother lived. She had his address but it didn’t say Pattaya; it said Banglamung. She knew it had to be very near to Pattaya, but she didn’t know in which direction. She fell asleep on the bus praying for Buddha to guide her safely to her brother’s house.
At four o’clock in the morning, Nuang changed buses in Bangkok for the final leg of her journey. She arrived in Pattaya at six forty-five a.m. She called Anan but there was no answer. Probably still asleep, she thought.
She flagged down a motorcycle-taxi and showed him the address. The driver read the address several times, then told her he knew where it was. He had taken another lady to that address before. At seven o’clock, she was knocking on Anan’s door. When he answered, it was obvious she had awakened him.
“Nuang,” he said, staring at her in sleepy-eyed surprise. “Is that you? What are you doing in Pattaya?”
“I am sorry to wake you brother, but I need your help.”
“Come inside,” he said. “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”
She shook her head no, as she stepped into his living room. “I have come to look for Math. Is she here? I have promised someone I would find her.”
“Why would Math be here? The last time I saw her was at the funeral last Saturday. What is going on?”
“I am sorry, but I can’t tell you right now,” she answered. “I think Math came to Pattaya to stay with a farang. His name is Mike. Math said you know him.”
“I know him,” Anan said curtly. “I don’t like my sister sleeping with a farang. It is not polite.”
“Shame on you, Anan,” Nuang said sharply. “Your sister loves that man. He is very good to her. How dare you say something like that. You should be glad your sister has found someone who makes her happy.”
“I know,” Anan responded. “It’s just that I see so many farangs with Thai ladies that sometimes I get sick of it. Most of them are no good. All they want is to have sex with a Thai woman.”
“Well,” she said, a little softer, “This is different. Math is in love with this farang and, from what she told me, I think he loves her too. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think I am correct. Now, do you know where this Mike lives?”
“Yes, I can take you there.”
“Thank you. Please take me there now.”
“What happened to your face?” Anan asked, not moving.
“I had an accident,” she lied. “It is not important. I am okay. Now, please put on your clothes so we can go.”
Anan and Nuang arrived at the condo at nine o’clock. The manager informed them that Mike had checked out of his room three days earlier. He was going back to America. No one had seen Math since she had gone to Phitsanulok for the funeral.
“What can we do?” Nuang asked, as they left the condo.
“I don’t know,” Anan answered. “I think there is nothing we can do. Do you think the farang took Math to America with him?”
“I wish it was true,” she replied, “but Math doesn’t have a passport or a visa. It would be impossible for her to go to America.”
“Maybe she went back to Phitsanulok,” he suggested.
“I don’t think so, not now. Math is too smart for that.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “It’s her home. Why wouldn’t she go there?”
“Never mind,” she answered. “It’s a thing between us women. I just don’t think Math would go to Phitsanulok right now.”
“Maybe she went to visit you in Chiang Mai?” Anan suggested.
She looked at him like a light had just clicked on. “Yes, that has to be it. Math must have gone to my home. Let’s go back to your house and call my husband. Even if Math is not in Chiang Mai, Surat must be wondering where I am. We argued before he went home from the funeral. I have not talked to him since. He must be wondering what has happened. I am not a good wife, Anan.”
Using Anan’s phone, Nuang called again and again for nearly four hours before Surat finally answered. “I am Nuang,” she said when she heard his voice. “I am sorry I have not c
alled you. Many things have happened and I am in Pattaya looking for Math. Please don’t be angry.”
“I am not angry,” Surat said, relief in his voice. “I was only worried that you would never come home. I called to your mother’s house, but no one has seen you or Math. Are you okay? Are you coming home soon?”
“I am okay,” she answered, thinking of the bruises that still showed on her face. “I will stay with Anan for one day and rest. I will come home to you on Sunday. If you see Math, please call Anan right away. It is very important. I have promised someone I would find her.”
“I am working for the next few days,” Surat replied, “But if I see her, I will make her stay here and then I will call. What time do you think you will be home?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about the buses from Pattaya to Chiang Mai. I don’t know what time, but I think it may be very late. Thank you for not being angry with me. I will see you on Sunday, my husband.”
She hung up the phone and looked at Anan. “Please take me to buy a bus ticket home.”
She spent the rest of Friday and most of Saturday sleeping. When she was awake, she spent most of the time praying her bruises would be gone by Sunday. She spent the rest of her time thinking about Surat. She was surprised by how much she missed her husband. Maybe she loved him more than she thought.
At six o’clock on Sunday morning, Nuang’s bus left the Pattaya terminal on its fourteen hour trip north to Bangkok and onward to Chiang Mai.
Chapter 23
On the same Sunday morning that Nuang was leaving Pattaya, Math awoke early in her hotel room in Chiang Mai. She showered and went out for breakfast. After eating, she waited for the usual morning vomiting, but it didn’t come. She felt slightly nauseated, but she didn’t vomit. Maybe Mike was wrong and the hot peppers she had eaten with her supper the night before had cured her ulcers. She found a pay phone and called the airlines. Her suitcase was still missing.
She went back to her room and contemplated what do next. She could smell odors coming from the armpits of her blouse without even sniffing. She was glad no one was there to share her embarrassment. She decided to buy some clean clothes. At least a blouse and underwear.
Math took her money from her purse and counted it. Seventy-three hundred baht and some small change was all that was left. She would have to be very careful about the money. It was going too fast. Now she regretted her decision to fly to Chiang Mai. If she had taken the bus, she would not have spent so much and she would still have her suitcase. “Not bad luck lady”, she thought, “but stupid lady”.
She slipped 1,300 baht and the change into her pants pocket. The rest she rolled into a tight wad and hid it in her purse. She didn’t want to be flashing her wad of bills for everyone to see. It was not safe. She checked out of her room.
Not far from the hotel, Math stopped at a small shop and bought a shirt, bra, and panties. She paid for the clothes with the money from her pants pocket. She asked the sales lady if it would be okay to put on the new clothes and wear them from the store. The lady agreed. Math changed her clothes in the dressing room and put her smelly clothes in the plastic bag. She felt better just knowing she didn’t stink anymore.
She called the airlines again. Her suitcase had arrived. Instantly, she was angry with herself for buying the clothes. She was even more angry that she had worn them from the store. Now she couldn’t take them back for a refund.
“Damn it,” she said, disgusted with herself. She took a motorcycle-taxi to the airport.
The airline lady in missing baggage was very apologetic. Mai pen rai, never mind, Math told her. She went through the suitcase and everything was there. She put on deodorant before zipping the suitcase shut.
Outside the terminal she couldn’t find a motorcycle-taxi, only regular taxis and a couple of tuk-tuks. She decided on the tuk-tuk because it was cheaper than the regular taxi. She gave the driver directions to her sister’s house. In fifteen minutes she had arrived. The door was still locked and there was no sign that anyone had been there during the night.
She wondered and worried why Nuang was not home. She could think of no reason why her sister would still be at the temple in Phitsanulok unless something really bad had happened. Something must be wrong, terribly wrong. Maybe Sawat’s beating had hurt Nuang worse than she thought. Maybe that was where Surat had gone, too. Maybe someone had called him with an emergency about Nuang. A wave of uneasiness swept over her. At that moment, she decided to return to Phitsanulok to find her sister. She had no other choice. She had to make sure Nuang was okay.
Math counted the money in her pocket. There was still 600 baht. Math thought it would be enough for the bus fare and a meal or two, but decided to put another 1,000 in her pocket just in case. She probed her fingers into the secret hiding place in her purse. She did not feel the money. She probed harder and deeper. Still nothing. Her breath came in short gasps. She groped frantically through her purse finding naught. Finally, she dumped everything onto the ground and sifted through the things laying on the sidewalk. The money was gone. Slowly, she pushed everything back into her purse. Tears welled in her eyes. How could she live on just 600 baht?
As she sat crying, she retraced her every movement since she had checked out of the hotel. After a few minutes, she knew it had to be the lady at the clothes shop. She remembered she had already paid the lady and had left her purse on the counter for just a minute while she changed into her new clothes. That had to be it. The sales lady had stolen her money while she changed clothes.
She grabbed her suitcase and ran awkwardly down the street to the clothes shop. When she arrived, the store was closed and the door was locked. She exploded into a rage. She kicked repeatedly at the shop door. “Whore, cunt, bitch, Thai slut, mother-fucker,” she shouted every evil English word she had learned from Mike.
A policeman saw her kicking and screaming at the door. He ran over and grabbed her by the arm. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “You do that one more time and I will arrest you.”
Math’s knees buckled and she dropped to the sidewalk. Her curses gave way to sobbing. “She stole my money. The lady in that store stole my money. You must do something.”
The policeman looked at the shop. “It’s closed,” he said. “You must be mistaken. Are you drunk or are you on some kind of drugs?”
“No,” she protested, “I am not on anything. I am telling you, the lady stole my money and then she closed her shop.”
The policeman noticed the suitcase. “Where is your home in Chiang Mai?”
“I don’t live in Chiang Mai. I live in Phitsanulok,” she answered.
The policeman regarded her coldly. “Then I cannot help you. If I see you kick that door one more time, I will arrest you.” He walked away, looking back at Math every few steps.
She stood and glared at the door. As the policeman turned the corner, she kicked it hard, one last time. “Fucker,” she shouted, picked up her suitcase, and headed back toward the hotel.
As she walked, she decided she had to contact Mike. He would know what to do. He would help her. Ten minutes later, she arrived at the hotel hot, tired, and sweating.
Math told the man at the hotel desk what had happened. In her most pitiful tone, she begged him to send a fax for her to America. At first he refused but, after listening to her plead for a while, he relented and said he would do it. But, she would have to pay 50 baht for the phone cost. She agreed and promised to make it a very short fax.
“Call me on my handy,” she wrote. “I have something important to tell you. Love, Math.”
The man tried to send the fax while Math waited. In a moment he came back shaking his head, “I cannot get through to America. I am getting busy international circuits.”
“I cannot wait, I must go back to Phitsanulok today. If I give you an extra fifty baht, will you keep trying until it goes through?”
&n
bsp; “Yes, I will,” the man agreed. “I promise, I will try until the fax has been sent.”
“Thank you.” Carefully, she counted out the money and left the hotel lobby.
Outside of the hotel, Math repeated her story to a motorcycle-taxi driver until he finally agreed to take her to the bus station for just five baht. She was very grateful and thanked him over and over.
She bought a ticket on the eight o’clock bus to Phitsanulok. She spent the next few hours counting her remaining money over and over. She could hardly believe it. Just yesterday morning, when Mike left Thailand, she had ten thousand baht in her purse and now she was almost broke. “Stupid lady,” she said to herself disgusted.
As her bus left the Chiang Mai terminal, it passed another bus just arriving. She didn’t know it, but that bus carried a very special passenger. It carried her sister, just arriving from Pattaya.
An hour later, Math’s bus passed another bus moving north toward Chiang Mai. That bus, too, carried a very special passenger. The passenger wore saffron robes and was headed to the temple on the mountain above Chiang Mai city. His name was Jum.
Chapter 24
That same Sunday, while Math was wondering what had happened to her money, it was early Sunday morning in America. Mike woke up in the dark. It was four a.m.
His first thoughts were of Math. He wondered if she was okay. With the kind of luck she had, anything was possible. In fact, she had always told Mike that she was cursed woman, a bad luck lady. Mike had always pooh-poohed the idea and made fun of her about it, but he had to admit things weren’t exactly going her way. He had no way of knowing that at that very moment Math was busy kicking down a dress-shop door in Chiang Mai. Even if he did know, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
Unable to sleep, he got up and looked through the window. The streets were covered with snow and it was coming down hard. A quick tour of the house proved that no one had come home during the night. With the snow outside, he figured they probably wouldn’t be home any time soon either.
