‘Yeah.’
‘Are you two sharing, like, the same hotel room?’
‘Micah,’ I say quietly.
‘Sorry, but it’s something I gotta know. I bet he’s tried …’ He bites his nails. ‘Has he tried to get in your bed?’
I keep thinking of our bodies tangled up in the bed sheets. Eli’s hands. His mouth.
‘No.’
Now who’s the liar?
But it’s not a lie. Eli’s not like that. He didn’t try to get into my bed, not once. It just worked out that way.
And I can’t tell Micah what happened last night. It would drive him insane, stuck behind the glass, while I’m out here, free with Eli.
‘I wanted to beat myself up after you left, Bel. Thought I’d lost you. Ruined it. It’s been a shitty, rotten week. Even broke out in a stress rash.’ He laughs.
He looks straight at me now. There’s a depth to his brown eyes. Neither of us speaks, but something intangible passes between us. And in his blue singlet and black board shorts, he doesn’t look like a prisoner. I forget about where I am, even who I am, forget everything but him.
‘You’re good to me, Bel. Better than I deserve.’
I feel myself blushing. ‘So tell me what you were up to this morning,’ I say.
‘Poker.’
‘I didn’t cost you another game, did I?’
He shakes his head and looks out to the quadrangle behind me. ‘I’ve been holding out for you. Hoping you’d come back. So I was just playing friendly with the boys.’
Sitting here now with the Micah of my letters, I want another day of visits, another week, another month.
‘So were you winning this game of poker, or what?’
‘Hell yeah, I was winning.’ He frowns like I just called him a dunce. ‘But, like I said, we weren’t playing for cash. We were just messing around. Hey, the boys want to meet you. You mind if I let them?’
My heart cranks up a notch at the idea of sitting here with four Death Row prisoners. But I gulp down the fear. This isn’t about me.
‘Uh, yeah sure. Bring them in.’
‘All right, hang on a sec.’
Micah disappears down the corridor, and when he returns, he’s flanked by three men. All of them limping slightly to one side, like him. From the shackles.
As they enter the cubicle, Boxer howls and clips Micah across the ear, and Micah shoves him back. Dutchy stops short of coming all the way in, until Leo gives him a nudge. The three of them stand behind Micah as he lifts the receiver and holds it out for everyone to talk.
‘These are my boys,’ he says proudly. ‘You already know them all, hey?’
‘I think so,’ I say. ‘Boxer, Dutchy and Leo, right?’
‘Hi, Bel!’ they say in unison.
It’s surreal, seeing them in the flesh. This is probably the only time I will ever meet them.
‘Tell them all I said hi.’
Micah tells them.
‘And, hey, Micah?’ I love saying his name.
‘Yeah?’ I love him answering to it even more.
‘Can you thank Leo for the sketch? It’s beautiful.’
‘Hey, Leo. Bel thought your drawing was real good.’
‘Tell her she’s welcome.’ Even from a distance, I can hear how articulate he is. Educated. I wonder how Leo ever got tangled in this mess. What did he do? What’s his story? His excuse. Dad’s voice. I shut it out. Dad’s not here now.
‘Aww, look,’ Micah laughs. ‘Now you made him go all red.’
Before Micah can say anything else, Boxer wrenches the phone off him. ‘Told ya I would!’ he says.
Micah snatches at the phone, but Boxer stretches to his full height and says, ‘Hey, Bel, bet he didn’t say he kisses your picture, aye?’
Micah reefs the phone back. ‘Stop being a dick.’ Then to me, ‘Sorry about him.’ He flicks Boxer’s hand off the back of him somewhere.
In the scuffle, Micah’s shirt lifts up and I catch a glimpse of something on his skin. A tattoo? A scar? It’s something of him the photo didn’t reveal.
Micah slips out of Boxer’s grasp and straightens his shirt. ‘All right, that’s enough of you lot. You can piss off now. There’s not much time left.’
I say goodbye. Watch the boys wander out. Boxer wolf whistles as he saunters down the corridor. Leo walks behind, slim and tall. And Dutchy, who didn’t speak a word, grins and gives me a short wave before disappearing with the others. I wonder what will become of them all. My heart feels like someone just punched it.
‘I knew Boxer was gonna be trouble, hey,’ he says.
‘Micah,’ I say. ‘Have you got a tattoo? I saw something under your shirt.’
‘Oh, that. Yeah. It’s to remind me, while I’m in here. Leo does them. You want to see it?’
Absolutely.
‘All right.’
He stands up and lifts his singlet to his chest, revealing his six pack. I can see his tan line where his board shorts drop a little. And there, etched against his abs, is a fan of five cards, all spades in descending order, with flames licking up the sides of them.
‘Can you read what it says from there?’
I squint. ‘No.’
‘Born to die, play to live.’ He traces the words with his finger, before dropping his shirt and sitting back down. ‘Way I see it, you go living like you’re dead, you might as well be. We’re all born to die, but it’s how you play your cards that counts. That make sense?’
I think of Mum, how everyone expects me to wallow, or lash out, or at the very least cry about that missing piece in my family puzzle. But I have to work with what I’ve got, and I’ve had a good life playing that hand.
He lowers his voice. ‘Hey, in your letter you said you wanna try meeting up in our dreams. You remember that?’
My face rushes with heat. ‘Yeah. Do you want to?’
He hangs his head in his hands, voice muffled as the phone is pressed against his shirt. ‘Argh, Bel, course I want to. You’re just … Sometimes I beat myself up about you, you know?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘About you wasting your time writing to me. You’re too good for me. Too good for here.’
‘I wish I could get you out of this place, Micah.’
He looks up at me now, a hunger in his eyes. ‘You know I don’t believe in miracles, hey. But I need everything you’ve got to give, and I don’t mean just the food. You know how long it’s been since someone gave a shit about me?’
I press my hand to the glass on my side, and he does the same. We sit there, staring at each other as I memorise the lips I’ll never kiss, and the hair I’ll never run my fingers through. And, oh, it aches.
‘I’ve got these feelings for you. They’re so powerful, Bel, I swear I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Maybe in our dreams, hey. Maybe we can do all we ever wanted in our dreams.’
‘Sure we can.’
But we can’t.
After what I did with Eli, I know dreams will never be enough. That was real. That was hands and mouths and bodies together. Dreams are just air – they evaporate by morning. They’re not enough to sustain anyone.
‘February six, hey? The date’s burned in my brain.’
‘Yep,’ I smile. ‘It’s a date.’
A bell rings behind me, and I turn around.
‘It means five minutes,’ he says.
I have five more minutes left with Micah for the rest of our lives. Five measly minutes.
‘Hey, Bel, before I gotta go. I just want you to know …’ He looks away from me, clears his throat. ‘I promised myself I’d make it good if you came back and visited. So I wanna tell you a couple things. No one’s ever done anything for me like what you’ve done.’ He lowers his voice against the receiver till I can barely hear him. ‘And I get so fucking jealous being stuck in here, and you out there with that Eli guy. I care about you, Bel. Care too much.’
‘Me too,’ I whisper, and the words burn.
There’s no turning from it now. I’ve fallen for him. And the boy I’m with is waiting for me outside prison, hoping I’ll never write to Micah again. The worst thing is, I love them both.
A guard enters the space behind Micah, baton in hand, and says something I can’t hear.
‘I gotta go,’ he says, rising. ‘Check with the guards at the front but. I left you a letter in case you came back to visit. And remember what I said. Whatever happens, you remember.’
I don’t understand, but it feels like a warning.
Eli rushes towards me when I emerge from the gates into the harsh midday sun.
‘How’d you go?’ he says. But then he notices the letter clutched in my hand. ‘What the hell’s that?’
‘Nothing … something he wrote in case I came back.’
‘So it’s not the end of the letters.’ He holds out a hand to hail a passing cab.
Eli is quiet as we climb into the cab. The driver makes a crazy U-turn as we drive away, and I watch the prison shrink in the rear-view mirror.
‘Eli,’ I say under my breath, ‘what happened in Chiang Rai –’
‘Forget it.’
So we don’t talk. We spend the rest of the ride to the hotel in strained silence. Him pissed that I’m giving Micah a second chance, and me fuming because he has no right to be angry. Does he think he owns me now?
I’m not sorry about what we did in Chiang Rai. It makes me smile remembering the way Eli held me and touched me like no one else in the world mattered. Micah was buried in the back of my thoughts when I was with Eli. And I didn’t make him any promises.
I can tell Eli regrets it now, though. He avoids me all afternoon. Spends his time out in the stifling heat on the balcony drinking Tiger beer. It’s our first night in a hotel since the Happy Honeymooner, and I don’t know what will make things better between us, so I lie on my single bed and disappear into The Hunger Games to read about a life more messed up than mine.
Eli drags back the sliding door and heads for the fridge. I notice him staring at me. Leaning against the fridge with a beer in his hand. I drop the book.
‘I can’t figure you out, you know? I never know where I stand with you.’
‘Eli.’
‘It’s the truth. One day you’re hot, next you’re cold. Why, Bel? I don’t get it.’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know what you expect.’
‘Do you feel anything? Anything for me at all?’ he says.
‘What?’ How can he even question that? ‘Of course I do. Do you think I would have done what we did if I didn’t feel something for you?’
I reach out, but he steps back like I’ve morphed into some kind of snake.
‘So why deny yourself the good things life offers and chase after the shit that can’t be? Micah is probably going to die. That’s what Death Row means. But even if they don’t execute him, he’s there for life. I could be with you, Bel. Not just in letters. I could really be with you. And we’re great together. We work, you know we do.’
His words burrow deep into my chest. ‘I know we work, but I don’t have to choose between you. You’re not going to make me choose, are you? You’re the one who told me to go see him. No regrets.’
‘I told you to see him once. To say goodbye. How would you feel if two days after we were together, I was meeting up with some other chick?’
The thought is actually quite sickening. Eli has always been mine. And since he’s been back from exchange, he’s made me his number one. I can’t imagine another girl in his life, or how I’d deal with her. She doesn’t even exist, but I think I might hate her.
‘If you don’t live your life, nobody will live it for you. You’ll miss out, Bel.’
Maybe I do need to make a choice. The thought creeps in that if I give up a relationship with Eli, I’ll probably lose him as a friend too. I don’t think I can live without Eli in my life. But how do I cut one of them out? Either way, it’s a devastating loss, too painful.
‘I can’t choose.’
And that is the utter truth.
Eli looks me in the eye longer than he ever has, his face deep with hurt. Then he dumps his beer on top of the fridge and leaves.
After an hour of phoning Eli over and over and getting his voicemail, I sit in the heat of our balcony, waiting for him to come back.
He doesn’t.
I watch the sky drain itself of colour and the neon lights of Bangkok transform the city, but tonight the magic is lost. I want to write Tash another message, telling her about how I hooked up with Eli and how upset he is, but the last thing I left her with was my Micah mess.
I’m a big girl now. Almost eighteen. There comes a time when you need to deal with your own shit. I would happily try and fix it with Eli if he were here. I hate myself for hurting him like this.
I try to imagine where he might be, but there’s no way of knowing. It’s so easy to disappear in Bangkok. How is it that big cities full of people can feel so lonely?
I head inside and collapse on my bed. Something crinkles in my pocket.
Suddenly I remember Micah’s letter.
I take it out and open it slowly. No idea what to expect.
21/01
Dear Bel,
I should of told you. Was stupid of me not to, but I thought you’d cut me off. Now you’ve done it anyway.
This is me laying down my cards. No more poker face.
You deserve the whole story.
When I paid off what we had and found out how much my old man still owed, I felt like smashing someone to pieces.
But I didn’t. I went to see the Hudson brothers. It was a place I never wanted to go. A place Dad knew well. I swore I’d never touch drugs. Said it for years and meant it. Drugs wrecked us. But now I thought they might be the only thing that could save us. And I was exactly what the Hudsons wanted, I guess. Invisible. Someone nobody was going to miss if it all went to shit. Someone no one expected anything from.
They were after runners. One hop to Thailand and back. Debt clear. Sounds easy, huh?
But nothing’s ever easy. Not where I come from.
When the embassy guy came for me in Thailand, he’d already called home, spoken to my mum. Worst thing he could’ve done for me. I didn’t call her, and when she wrote I didn’t write back so eventually she stopped.
I know that sounds mean, but Mum’s never done anything except look after everyone. She doesn’t need to be worrying about me in here. She’s done enough of that. Better I end it with her now, so it doesn’t break her when I die. It’s the only way I can take care of her.
So this is how it happened: The Hudsons hooked me up a trip to Thailand and I got a few days in a fancy resort. Then some guy I don’t know turned up at my hotel room. Strapped me so tight that I couldn’t breathe, hey.
When I got to Bangkok airport, I just followed the crowd. All I wanted to do was get the hell home. Pay the debt, and I was never touching drugs again. We could start fresh. My heart was beating so loud. I was trying to stop myself thinking about the five kilos strapped to my abs.
That’s when I saw the dogs. All soft with waggy tails, sniffing bags and legs with people smiling down at them. The guys in uniforms were real serious but.
I tried to keep calm, cause I know dogs can smell fear, hey. But I didn’t get far before the yapping started. And the people round me, they stared and stepped away like I had a bomb.
My own heart is pounding just reading his words. Thinking of the dog at the airport, the customs officers. The sheer panic. And I was innocent.
More and more men in uniforms came swarming in, all talking at me. And then yelling, cause I wasn’t moving. But I didn’t know what they were saying. One put my arms out to the sides and patted me down. He could feel the packages through my shirt.
Next thing, they shoved me down a hall into a dusty room, and shit I was sweating, Bel. They were saying stuff I didn’t understand and taking off my clothes.
I wasn’t fighting them, but one of them pulled a
gun anyway, rested it all nice and easy against his arm. Just to let me know I didn’t stand a chance. In case I was thinking otherwise, I guess. But I wasn’t. I was thinking, I’m fucked.
After that they stripped me and unwrapped the parcels. Filmed them, weighed them. I don’t know how long they kept me in that room. It was boiling hot, and I was so thirsty. I didn’t know what they were shouting, but they were pointing at a line on the bottom of some papers. Pointing and shouting, and I knew I wasn’t going to get anything to drink unless I signed it. I didn’t want to sign the papers but. I didn’t know what they said.
Next thing, I got cracked across the face. With a pistol, I think. My eyes were stinging, nose bleeding. And the guy was standing there, yelling at me about the papers. About to have another go at me.
Shit, I was scared, Bel. So I signed.
But I want you to know, I never lied. I didn’t lie in court, either. I don’t know what the translator said, but it’s death for drugs. I found that out real fast.
Anyway, now you know the full story.
I hope you can forgive me.
Peace out,
Micah
Eli stumbles through the door at 1.25 a.m. He can’t stand straight, can barely open his eyes. I leap off my bed, but he flops back against the wall.
‘I could kill you!’ I say. ‘I was about to call the embassy. Our plane leaves in nine hours and you go missing in Bangkok. Where were you?’
Then I hug him and he leans on me to steady himself.
‘Don’t ever do that to me again,’ I say.
He doesn’t respond. I’m not sure he can talk.
‘Where did you go?’
‘Bar,’ he says into my nightie.
‘With what money?’ I hold him at arm’s length.
He closes his eyes and moves loose hands over his waist, feeling for his money wallet. I lift his shirt, but it’s not there. Whatever he had left in baht is gone.
Eli pushes past me to the bathroom, falls hard on his knees and hurls into the toilet.
I get a towel and a glass of water and help clean him up.
‘You didn’t need to do this to yourself.’
Inside the Tiger Page 16
