The Next Best Thing

by Wiley Brooks

  “What an awesome place,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s so untamed. And no people! This is exactly what I had hoped I would get to experience on my trip. Nothing came close to this in Thailand, though. Thank you, Joey, for bringing me here. I love it.”

  He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  They walked in silence a little farther. “Bisaam and Omar called you what sounded like maybe Joseph. Was that your name in Malaysian?”

  “My parents named me after my Uncle Joe, but Joseph is a Christian name. The Malays call me Yusof. It’s a Muslim name. It’s fine with me. The Chinese just call me Joey, though.”

  They walked back to the bungalow. Jessica took a new paperback, sat on the porch and started to read. Joey grabbed his Walkman and a couple cassettes, sat in the other chair and listened to his music. He glanced over to see what she was reading and was momentarily startled. The title was Murder in Georgetown. He had a fleeting thought that she was reading about Mary Higgins, then realized that was a stupid thought. He had killed Mary barely more than a week before. There could be no book already.

  A little later they noticed another couple at the communal table and decided to go introduce themselves. John and Melinda were from Australia. They had been on Bumbon for a week.

  “The snorkeling here is bloody gorgeous, mate,” John said. “Undisturbed, you know. Lots of color. And the fish. Thousands and thousands of them.”

  “Do you snorkel?” Melinda asked, looking from Joey to Jessica.

  “I never have, but it sounds like this might be the place to try it,” Jessica said.

  “Bisaam has some gear we could use,” Joey said. “Want to do it tomorrow?”

  John offered to take them to the sites he and Melinda liked. They’d take Bisaam’s inflatable raft.

  Two other guests joined them at the table. Ibrahim and Mo were from KL. Jessica noticed that when they spoke by themselves, they spoke Bahasa Malay, but both spoke English well and only spoke English with the group. They had no problem joining the chat.

  “You going snorkeling tomorrow?” Ibrahim asked, looking at Joey and Jessica. It was a way to ease into the conversation. “Mo and I like the reef around the south tip of the island. It starts at about two or three meters and most of it is less than ten meters. I’m Ibrahim.”

  They introduced themselves.

  “The fish are magnificent,” Mo added. “And sea turtles, too.”

  “John and I have been there,” Melinda added. “We love that spot.” She turned to Jessica. “You’ll love this, Jess.”

  Jessica smiled. Her dad called her Jess.

  “Were you snorkeling today?” Joey asked the fellows from KL.

  “Fishing,” Ibrahim said. “We caught dinner!”

  They had, indeed, caught a half dozen highly prized red groupers. Bisaam had kept two to prepare for dinner and gave the others to Omar to sell at the jetty in Kuah. The hotel restaurant usually would buy any freshly caught red grouper offered. Bisaam and Omar would then split the money paid for the fish.

  Bisaam, who was working on dinner nearby in the kitchen, called over to the group that he was steaming the red grouper with ginger and onions.

  After dinner, Joey and Jessica returned to their bungalow. They turned on the overhead light. It was harsh, so they lit a couple candles. The bed was shrouded in a mosquito net. In the flickering candlelight, Jessica thought it looked romantic. She was glad she was still taking her birth control pills even though it had been a long time since she needed them. She knew that she would need them tonight. She felt it was going to be a special night.

  And, my God, it was.

  It was going to be different kind of night for Joey. He was, much to his surprise, a little anxious. Every woman he had ever bedded had been a one-night stand. Every one. He had never once even thought about how what he did or didn’t do might have an effect on his relationship with the woman. He didn’t have relationships. He wondered what he should do after the sex. And for the first time with a woman, he wasn’t so cock-sure about what to do.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower,” Jessica told him and headed into the bathroom. He heard the water come on, then her gasp as she stepped into the cold shower. “That’s wakes you up,” she called from the bath.

  To calm his nerves, Joey did what he had done in other situations: He came up with a plan. He knew he was good at pleasing a woman but was clueless about how or even if pleasing her would build trust. Maybe, he thought, if she felt more in charge at times, it would give her a sense of control. Her being more in control had to help build trust.

  He decided that he would go slowly. Show initiative, but also defer to Jessica. He would try to tune in to those moments. Then, he realized, he had never needed to read a woman that way. Would he be any good at it?

  The shower ended. A moment later Jessica stepped back into the room. Her red hair, which she had tied back in a ponytail all day, was framing her face. She was wearing just a tee-shirt and panties.

  He felt himself getting aroused but urged himself to slow down. Jessica was a long play, he kept telling himself. He had to win her over, to get her to trust him far more than sexually. She had to fall in love with him. Not suddenly, not tonight. But soon.

  He wanted her to wake one day three or four weeks from now and at least thinking about the possibility of spending the rest of her life with him. That’s what it would take, he knew. Only then would she willingly give him the money he needed.

  He thought back through all the love stories he had seen in the movies. There had been some good ones, but he hadn’t really studied them for tips on making a woman fall in love with you. He loved Top Gun but couldn’t see himself as Maverick to Jessica’s Charlie. Maybe Out of Africa? The love story between Karen and Denys built slowly, but it wasn’t he and Jessica either.

  His mind played with other love stories that he had watched mostly on video in his apartment. While no one film showed him what to do, he did find a lesson in how the good love stories developed. They shared a gentleness, an openness. The men could still be bold and daring, but with the women they had to be gentle and deliberate. Yes, he would let Jessica set the tone. The pace would be her pace.

  “The shower was great,” she said to him. “You should take a quick one, too.”

  “Okay.”

  “Notice I said quick.” He saw that she had a big smile. It was a strange role reversal. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one who was feeling the butterflies and maybe even doubting what she was about to do? He liked it that she was a strong woman character in the movie about to play in his mind.

  A few minutes later, he emerged from the small bathroom wrapped in his towel. He saw her, in the flickering candlelight inside the netting, lying on the bed. The only noises were the soft lapping of the surf nearby and the cacophony of sounds coming from the jungle behind them.

  “Drop the towel and come to bed,” she told him, clearly taking charge. He was self-consciously aroused again. He approached the bed, then turned his back as he dropped the towel, opened the gap in the mosquito net and sat back on the bed. He turned his head and looked at her. She wasn’t exactly smiling, but she did look ready. “Come here.”

  She kept her eyes on his as he moved up to lie next to her.

  “Just so you know, I haven’t done this in a while,” she said. “Really. No one since my husband.”

  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “We can do whatever you want. If it doesn’t feel right to you, just say stop. I’ll understand.” They lay looking in each other’s eyes. “You’re beautiful, Jessica. Really beautiful.”

  And he meant it. Every word.

  She smiled. “If you say so.” She loved the compliment. “But you are truly the most handsome man I’ve ever dated – and I think we’re about to do more than date.” She put an emphasis on the word date. He chuckled.

  “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean, ‘maybe?’” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. He kissed her back, but d
idn’t move in. Instead, he traced a line on her cheek, while continuing to look deeply into her green eyes. It was sweet and all, but Jessica had known what she wanted from this evening the moment she said yes to taking this trip. She reached down between his legs and touched him. It was unexpected and caused Joey to catch his breath.

  This whole experience amused her. She had always been a self-confident woman, but not sexually aggressive. Taking hold of Joey like that was new. It was a side of herself that she wanted to explore.

  He was more than ready, of course, but he wanted, he kept telling himself like a mantra, he needed to – take – his – time. But he also knew he couldn’t just lie there. He had to respond. He brought his hand down and cupped her face. He leaned in to kiss her again. Gently at first, his tongue outlining her lips. Even though he kept telling himself to go slowly, he couldn’t deny the passion that was building. When he thought he might be losing control, he broke away again.

  Outside the cicadas were chirping. Jessica and Joey could also hear John and Melinda still talking with Bisaam. The net surrounding the bed moved in the breeze and then Joey and Jessica could smell a coming rain. She started to stroke him but also seemed to move her chest toward him. When she did, he moved his hand under her tee-shirt to her breasts. They fit in his palm and he moved her nipple between his index and middle finger. He felt it stiffen slightly.

  She sat up and pulled the shirt over her head. She pushed him onto his back and started kissing his chest. His hands were all over her now. She moved up, her hair hanging from her face around his, and kissed him, deeply this time. Her tongue met his. Their breathing was gathering speed.

  Joey rolled her over and slipped his lips down to her breasts. He sucked on them wetly, then drew a line with his tongue down to her navel. Her hands were in his hair and gently pushed him further down. Between her legs now, he pulled her panties off, bent down and with his lip and tongue caressed her. Oh, she liked that! She liked it a lot. He got the message, so he kept at it. Then she told him, “Now, Joey. I want it now.”

  He moved up and kissed her lips. He was about to reach down to guide himself in, when she did it for him. She moaned softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. Together, they found a rhythm. Like a slow dance at the prom, they felt the movement of the other and matched it to their own.

  This felt differently to Joey than before. There was a connection to it that made it feel far more personal than anything he had experienced. It dawned on him that this was the way sex was supposed to feel. More than physical. Complete.

  Jessica was just thinking that it felt good.

  Within a couple minutes, they were increasing the pace of the thrusts. A little sound was coming from Jessica’s throat with each push. “Uh…Uh…Uh…Uh,” The sounds grew more resonant. To his surprise, the moans of her pleasure turned him on. He realized he had never really listened before.

  The pace picked up again and he found himself angling for deeper thrusts. As he did, Jessica’s sounds turned more to muffled cries. “Oh God, yes. Joey. Yes, that’s right! There! Please yes! There! Yes!” And then it was welling up inside him, too. He was about to release a torrent.

  The pace quickened again for both of them. Jessica started to cry out, not scream but cry out with abandon. She was at that ultimate peak. Joey was right behind her.

  As they lie there, spent, they both overheard Bisaam tell the Aussies, “They actually asked for separate bungalows.”

  “Really? What was that about?” John asked, rhetorically.

  “He said they were just friends.”

  “I want friends like that,” Melinda said.

  Inside the bungalow, Jessica and Joey could hear them laughing. They both giggled. He stayed inside her for a bit, lying on top of her. Then he rolled to the side and out.

  “My God,” she whispered, as if to herself. It had been, she was quite certain, the most intense sex she had ever had.

  Joey just laid there thinking about how different that was than all the other times he had sex. Different didn’t do it justice. He had never felt so alive. Sure, he had orgasmed before. But never like this. Why was that, he wondered?

  Soon, he realized that what was different was that he was totally focused on Jessica. Not like he had been with the other girls. With them, he just wanted their last orgasm to be a good one. He knew how to do that. But with Jessica, he wanted her to feel more than physical pleasure. He wanted her to love the way it lifted her up. In that moment, he realized that he had never really cared before. Sure, the others all enjoyed their last time, but then they would die and it made no difference to him whatsoever.

  This time it wasn’t about taking his knife to her neck. All those thoughts had been completely out of his mind. As he lie there, he could still taste her on his lips and it tasted good. He realized in a flash that he really wanted her to love it because he wanted desperately to do it again. And again.

  A totally new experience for him.

  Then his mind did turn to business. He had no doubt that if he played his cards right, she would grow to trust him. She would give him what he needed. And then he would kill her.

  And then an unsettling thought struck him. What if when the time came, he didn’t want to do it?

  Of course, he would. He had done it seven times and he could do it once more. He had a solid plan. Just stick to the plan, he told himself.

  She rolled over to face him and brought him back to the moment. “Let’s tell each other one secret.”

  “Really? Okay.”

  “The first time I had sex was in the back seat of Tommy West’s Chevy after the senior prom. I was eighteen and maybe a little drunk. I didn’t like it that much. It definitely wasn’t like tonight.”

  Joey’s mind raced. He didn’t tell secrets, except to Big Willie, but that was different. What could he say? It had to be good. And none of his real secrets could he possibly tell her, so he winged it.

  “My dad was a preacher.”

  “That’s your secret? You already told me that your dad was a preacher.”

  “No. That’s not my secret,” he said with a slight laugh. “That’s part of the set up,” he paused. “I was rebellious. I was dating a girl named Annie. We were both seventeen. She was on the wild side. Really. I definitely wasn’t her first. One night, we snuck into the church and we did it on the first pew.”

  “That’s twisted.”

  “That’s why it’s been a secret.” It was more than a secret, of course. It was total fiction.

  They lie quietly for a while, then she rolled over and gently bit his nipple. Round two had begun.

  Mason was finishing breakfast in the hotel dining room. It was a decent American-style breakfast of sunny side up eggs, chicken sausage because pork is forbidden in Muslim establishments and buttered toast with jam. But Mason had a hard hankering for grits. Christ, he missed grits. He had found an international market in Bangkok that sometimes carried instant grits. No self-respecting Georgia boy would eat instant grits back home, but he looked every single time he was in the store. Bo walked in a few minutes before eight.

  “Good morning, partner,” Bo said, eyeing a tired-looking Mason. “Rough night?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Mason downed the last of his coffee, had the waiter bring the check and charged it to his room. Then they headed to Joey’s last known address.

  They parked a half block from the run-down apartment building. A plainclothes cop walked over and leaned in Bo’s window. Before he spoke, he took in the American sitting next to the detective. Unusual, he thought, but then refocused on Bo.

  “Good morning, Detective Jun,” the man said. “I’ve seen no one who fits the description of the suspect. And I couldn’t find a motorcycle that matched the registration, either.”

  “Has anyone come and gone?”

  “Yes sir. Between six-thirty and a few minutes ago, I saw seven people leave the building,” he said, checking his notes. “On
e couple who I would put in their thirties, a woman who I’d say was early twenties. And four single men of various ages. Not our guy, though.”

  “Thank you, sergeant. Please stay with the team a little while longer in case we need help.”

  The sergeant nodded.

  Bo had one of his men go to the back of the building, then stationed the sergeant and the other officer near the front door.

  “Let’s go, Mason,” Bo said. They rang the buzzer for the apartment manager.

  “No vacancy,” a voice squawked back at them through an old intercom.

  “Sorry to bother you, sir. I’m Chief Detective Jun Shan-Bo of the Penang Police. We need to speak with you about a tenant.”

  The door buzzed and Bo and Mason entered the building. The inside looked no better than the outside. The hallway was dimly lighted by a single overhead exposed bulb. There was a musty smell about the place. The walls hadn’t seen fresh paint in many years and what paint was there was peeling. The floor creaked with every step. A man in a white undershirt opened a door and stepped out.

  “What tenant you want?”

  “Can we step inside for privacy,” Bo asked, showing the man his police identification.

  The manager, a Chinese Malay, said his name was Daniel Heah. He had been manager for more than ten years.

  “Does a young man live in the building named Yusof Zaina?”

  “No more. He move maybe three year ago.”

  “Do you know where he moved to?”

  “Beach.”

  “Do you know what beach?”

  “No. Maybe Batu Ferringhi. He said he like Batu Ferringhi.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Bo asked.

  “I see him on motorcycle in town maybe one month ago. He not see me.”

  “How about before that. Has he been back to visit?”

  “No.”

  “Mr. Heah, you saw him a month ago on a motorcycle. Was it the same one he owned when he lived here?”