by J. F. Gump
He made himself a cup of instant coffee, which he hated almost as much as Thai coffee. It tasted like shit, but it had caffeine and he needed a healthy dose of that. He puttered around the house for a while, and then read some recent newspapers left laying here and there. At ten thirty he took a nap.
At noon, he woke up and drank a beer. He was glad he hadn’t drank them all the night before. He turned on the TV. It had more channels than his TV in Pattaya, but the shows seemed just as bad or worse. He flipped idly through the stations but never found anything that held his attention for more than a few minutes.
As the afternoon wore on, he slowly but surely finished his small supply of beer and cigarettes. He searched the house upside and down but found neither; he wanted both. He looked outside again, for the hundredth time that day. The snow had let up some, he tried to convince himself. Besides, it would only get worse if he waited. Fuck it, he mumbled to himself, as he put on his coat and walked to the snow-covered car.
The trip to the nearest bar wasn’t far, but the streets were a disaster. Mike’s rented car slipped and skidded all over the road, but he made the trip without accident. At the bar, he bought a twelve pack of beer. Pennsylvania’s antiquated liquor laws wouldn’t allow him to buy more than that at one time from a bar. After putting it in the car, he went back inside and bought another twelve pack. It was his way of thumbing his nose at stupid laws. Next, he stopped at a gas station and bought a carton of cigarettes. Ah, the essentials of life, he thought. He would not run out of anything tonight.
When he got home from his beer run, there were three messages on the answering machine. One was from Susan telling Josh she was still at Marsha’s. The second was from Josh saying he was still at Nick’s. Neither wanted to drive in the snow. The last message was from his boss. It was addressed to either Mike or Susan. He wanted Mike to call him as soon as possible and it was important.
Mike could only sigh and shake his head. He drank a couple of beers and smoked several cigarettes before calling. Finally, he dialed his boss’s number.
“Hello,” Jess Ankrom answered his phone.
“Hi, Jess. It’s me, Mike.”
“Thank god,” Jess said. “We didn’t know what happened to you. Thought maybe you had gone native on us or something. Where are you?”
“I’m at home,” Mike answered, confused. “Where did you think I would be?”
Jess sighed loudly over the phone, “Actually, I was hoping you were still in Thailand.”
“Well,” Mike said defensively, “You’re the one who said for us to come home right away.”
“Forget about that. What’s important is that you get back to Thailand by Wednesday morning. Not our Wednesday morning, but their Wednesday morning. Can you do that? It’s important.”
“You are kidding, aren’t you?” Mike asked. “First you tell me to come home as soon as possible, then you tell me to go back as soon as possible. Christ, to get there by Thailand’s Wednesday morning, I would have to leave tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest. I haven’t even seen my family yet.”
“Maybe that’s better,” Jess said. “I called your house Friday evening. Susan had no idea you were coming home and I didn’t tell her. I got the impression you didn’t tell her either. Did you?”
“Well, no,” he answered, embarrassed.
“Then she will never know you were home. You can call her when you get back to Thailand. If she has tried to call you, tell her that you and some of the guys went touring for a few days. She would believe that.”
He thought of Math. He could be back with her in 24 hours. Jess’s idea was sounding better by the minute. “I am willing to leave on the next available flight, but I am totally exhausted from my last trip. I need some rest and I don’t sleep very well in those business-class seats. First class seats are much better for sleeping on the plane.”
“Okay,” Jess sighed, understanding exactly what Mike was doing. “Just get there by Wednesday morning and I don’t care how you do it. Oh, by the way, there is one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You are to finish only what you’re working on now and then get home. How long do you think?”
“You bastard,” he said. “Maybe six weeks give or take another six. I will get it done as soon as I can, but I’m not going to kill myself over it.” He hung up the phone without waiting for a response. He had never talked to his boss like that before, but the whole situation sucked and Jess Ankrom knew it.
He called the airline companies until he found one with an open first class seat leaving at eight thirty that evening. He looked at his watch. It was Sunday, five-fifteen. He would have to hurry because of the snow, but he could make it. He hoped the airport didn’t shut down because of the weather.
He erased his boss’s message on the answering machine and undid everything he had done to the house. He put his new carton of cigarettes in his computer bag and the twelve-packs of beer in the rental car. He worried for a moment about his charges at O’Shane’s and for the rental car, but with as much as Susan charged on the credit cards, he figured she would never notice. He pulled his still-dirty clothes from the washer and packed them back into his suitcase. Last, he hung his coat back in the closet then left the house as if he had never been there. The blowing snow would cover his foot tracks soon enough.
The ride to the airport was winter hell. Once, he did a complete doughnut with the car, but ended up going in the right direction. It was then that he decided he would never again complain about Thailand’s hot weather. He arrived at his gate at eight o’clock. He boarded the plane twenty-five minutes later. It felt good to be going home.
***************
Mike arrived in Bangkok at eleven thirty on Tuesday morning. The trip had taken over twenty-four hours. He hired a taxi and was in Pattaya by two o’clock in the afternoon.
After checking back into his condo, the first thing he did was call Math. He had no problem making a telephone connection, but he kept getting the irritating Thai version of, “The phone you are dialing is out of the area or it is turned off”. After the fifth try he gave up.
She had said she would go to her sister’s in Chiang Mai, but he didn’t have that phone number. Maybe, he hoped desperately, if he called her mother, she could help him contact Math. He rummaged through his old receipts and finally found a telephone bill from the condo. He knew Math had used his phone to call her mother’s house among other places. After a brief process of elimination, Mike had the phone numbers narrowed down to two.
At both numbers, the person on the other end could not speak or understand English. Also, they could not understand his brand of Thai no matter how slowly or how clearly he spoke. He wasn’t sure anyone ever understood anything he said, but he kept trying. Every night he would call the numbers. Then he would sit by the phone waiting for it to ring. After three long agonizing days the phone did ring and it was Math.
Chapter 25
Math arrived in Phitsanulok at five thirty on her Monday morning. She had no way of knowing that Mike was just now leaving his house in America and was on his way back to Thailand. It was too early to be calling her mother or anyone else, so she spent half of her remaining money for a taxi to her house.
Nothing had changed since she and Nuang had left a week earlier. Her first priority was her cell phone. The battery had died sometime during night. She put it in the charger. Next, she went to the public toilets to bathe. The water was cold but it felt good to be clean. After she dressed, she walked to her mother’s house. The sky was growing pale with the first hint of daylight.
Thank Buddha, she said to herself, when she saw the motorcycle on her mother’s porch. And thank God, too, she said, when she checked the gas tank and found it almost full. She wrote a short note telling her mother and her brother that she was taking the motorcycle. She slipped the note under the door. She coasted her moto
rcycle from the porch to the street, where she kick-started it to life. In less than two minutes, she was back at her house.
Her handy was not yet charged, but she clipped it to the waistband anyway. It made her feel whole again. Math knew she couldn’t stay here because of Sawat, but she had not considered what she would do beyond going to the temple to look for her sister. For a moment, Math considered tying her suitcase to the seat on the motorcycle, then changed her mind. She didn’t want to be riding around Phitsanulok with a suitcase in tow. She grabbed her purse, locked her house, and drove to the temple.
The monks were already busy with their morning routines. Against all politeness, Math approached one of the monks and spoke to him first. “I need to talk to the monk named Jum or my sister, her name is Nuang.”
The monk looked at her with mild disdain.
“I am sorry for my boldness,” she apologized, “but this is very important. I must make sure my sister is okay.”
The monk’s stare softened only slightly. “The monk, Jum, left here three or four days ago. I am forbidden to say where he went. I don’t know about your sister. If she is the woman with braided hair, she left the day before the monk. I do not know where she went. I am sorry I cannot tell you more.”
“Thank you. Please forgive me for interrupting you,” she said, wai’ing and bowing respectfully as she backed away from the monk.
Math pondered what to do next. If Nuang had left here three or four days ago, where could she have gone? For that matter, she didn’t even know where she, herself, would go. With only seventy-five baht left in her pocket, she knew it wouldn’t be far.
She wondered if Mike had received her fax. The man at the hotel said he would keep trying until it was sent. Surely, Mike would have called by now. She had told him it was very important. She knew that if Mike would only call, he would take care of everything.
For a moment she worried if the man at the hotel had just pocketed her money and thrown the fax away. That thought faded as she realized the battery in her handy had been dead for hours. How could Mike call her, if her phone was dead or turned off? She pulled the cell phone from her belt and turned it on. The lo-battery light glowed an irritating yellow. “Toh woi, damn it,” Math muttered to herself.
She sat on her motorcycle for a few minutes deciding what she to do. She needed someplace to stay. Because of Sawat, she didn’t feel safe staying at her house or her mother’s house. She considered her father’s house, but discarded that idea also. On impulse, she drove to the nearest pay phone and called an old friend from school, her ex-roommate. As the phone rang, she practiced what she would say when Kallaya answered.
“Hello,” a female voice answered the phone.
She recognized the voice immediately. A rush of forgotten excitement coursed through her body. Math pushed her feelings aside. “Hello, Kallaya,” she said, almost whispering. “I am Math. Do you remember me?”
“Math,” the voice on the phone shouted excitedly, “Of course I remember you. How could I ever forget you? Where are you? How have you been? I haven’t heard from you for so long. I have really missed your company.”
“And I have missed you too,” Math said. “I am in Phitsanulok. I was thinking I would like to come and visit with you for a while. Would that be possible?”
“Of course it would be,” Kallaya said. “I would love to see you and talk about old times. Do you know where I live? Can you come today? Today would be perfect. My husband had to go to Bangkok on business this week and I have no one to talk to. Please say you can come today and keep me company.”
Math cringed slightly when Kallaya mentioned her husband but she kept her voice steady. “I can be there in twenty minutes. Would that be okay?”
“Yes, please. I will be very happy to see you again,” Kallaya answered. “I will be waiting for you.”
“I will be there soon,” Math said and hung up the phone.
After Kallaya had gotten married, Math had always kept track of where she was. Math knew it was because of the feelings she had for Kallaya. As hard as she had tried to kill the feelings, they had never quite went away. Kallaya was an emotionally strong woman and Math admired her greatly. As she drove toward Kallaya’s house, she could almost feel the woman taking her in her arms and telling her everything would be okay. In her mind, she could feel Kallaya holding her and stroking her hair and her body, keeping everything evil away.
She skidded the motorcycle to a halt. She had to stop the thoughts and the feelings coursing through her. Kallaya is married and has a baby, she told herself. Kallaya was only her friend and not her lover. Math, herself, was in love with Mike. After a few minutes, she had her emotions under control and she continued on toward Kallaya’s house.
Kallaya and Math had a joyous but tearful reunion on Kallaya’s front porch. How wonderful it felt for Kallaya to be hugging her, she thought, embarrassed. They spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon talking about old times, taking care of Kallaya’s baby, and bringing each other up to date on their lives.
Math did not tell Kallaya about the things she might not understand. She was sure Kallaya didn’t tell her everything about her life either. When they finally ran out of things to say, she decided it was time to ask Kallaya for a big favor.
“Kallaya,” she began, “I was wondering if I could spend a few nights here at your house.”
Kallaya cocked her head and looked at Math curiously. “Well, of course you can, but I thought you and your family lived here in Phitsanulok. Wouldn’t you rather stay at your own home or at your mother’s house?”
She told Kallaya just enough about Sawat and his recent violence that Kallaya would understand her reasoning. “I am very concerned that he might hurt me or my family. I think it would be best if I stayed away from my house and my mother’s house for a while. Really, I want to go to Chiang Mai and stay with my sister, but she is away right now. I think she will be home in a few days.”
“Then you can stay here with me until my husband comes home this weekend,” Kallaya stated. “Do you have clothes and everything?”
“Yes, but they are at my house,” Math answered. “I can go and get them now.”
“Never mind,” Kallaya responded. “You can wear some of mine. Tomorrow or the next day, I will leave the baby with my mother, and I will go with you to your house. I think it would be safer, if we went together.”
The next afternoon they did go and get Math’s suitcase. The trip was uneventful. Back at Kallaya’s house, Math tried to charge her cell phone, but something was wrong. No matter how long she left it plugged in, the battery would only last for a few minutes. She wished she had the money to buy a new battery.
Using Kallaya’s phone, Math contacted Nuang in Chiang Mai. Nuang was evasive about where she had been, but assured Math she was well. Math told Nuang about her adventures since she had left Nuang at the temple. Nuang insisted repeatedly, that Math come to see her as soon as possible. She didn’t say why, other than her worries about Sawat. Math promised she would come to Chiang Mai as soon as she could, probably this very weekend.
Math spent the next three days helping Kallaya cook and clean and tend the baby. Kallaya was thankful for the company and the relief from constant babysitting. She and Kallaya renewed the bond they had formed when they were in school. She had stopped vomiting every morning, even though she didn’t take her ulcer pills. In fact, she felt really good. She decided her problems had been caused by stress and not from an ulcer after all. Except for missing Mike, it was a very pleasant three days.
On Friday afternoon, Kallaya suggested they go to a movie. Her mother could take care of the baby and they would be back long before Kallaya’s husband returned from Bangkok. Math agreed and they went to the movies.
Math drove them to the theater on her motorcycle, and Kallaya paid for their admission to the movie. They watched a tragic Thai love story
that made them both cry. While exiting through the theater lobby, Math slipped on a wet spot and fell hard on her buttocks. She laughed, even though the pain brought tears to her eyes. As they left the building, she felt a dampness at her crotch. For a moment she thought she had lost bladder control when she fell. She reached down to feel her pants hoping she wasn’t so wet that everyone would see. When she pulled her hand away, her fingers were covered with blood.
“Oh my God, Kallaya,” she swooned, faint from the sight of her own blood, “I think I have hurt myself very badly.” She held her hand out for Kallaya to see.
“Oh, dear Buddha. I must to get you to a hospital,” Kallaya said urgently, but self-assuredly. “You stay here. I will get us a taxi.”
“What about my motorcycle?” Math shouted as Kallaya ran toward the street.
“Forget the motorcycle,” Kallaya shouted back. “I will get it later.”
In less than a minute, Kallaya returned with the taxi. The driver seemed irritated that a bleeding lady would be sitting on his seat but, after one look at Kallaya’s face, he said nothing. Within ten minutes they were at the hospital. Kallaya guaranteed payment for everything.
Presently, the nurses on duty told Kallaya that Math would be okay, but they were keeping her overnight for tests and observation. They let her see Math for just a few minutes.
Math gave Kallaya her purse and her handy to take back to her house and then told her she should go home to be with her baby and her husband. Kallaya agreed and promised to check on Math in the morning.
On Saturday morning, Kallaya called the hospital several times, but Math refused to take her calls. Saturday afternoon she went to the hospital, but Math had left instructions that she did not want any visitors. Kallaya was bewildered, insulted, and angry.
On Sunday morning, Math called Kallaya and asked if she could come to the hospital. They were letting her leave. Kallaya agreed without hesitation.
