Even Thai Girls Cry

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Even Thai Girls Cry Page 10

by J. F. Gump


  As his hormone levels waned, Mike began to have other thoughts. What about her brother? What would he think of his sister sleeping with a farang? Especially a married farang. And when was he coming back? Math would probably leave when her brother came back. For some reason, he found the thought disturbing. He pulled her tighter against his body and whispered, “I don’t know how, but you are doing something to my mind. I have not wanted to be so close to anyone for a very long time. If I didn’t know myself so well, I would think I am falling in love with you.”

  “Mike, you cannot fall in love with someone that quickly. I think you are just lonely.”

  He thought about that for a while. She was right; you can’t fall in love with someone in just two days. He was confusing physical pleasure with love. He changed the subject. “Did you call your brother today?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “He did not come home again.”

  Math’s brother did not come home for another five days. For Mike, it was five days of happiness. They went out to a different place for a couple of hours every night, except Saturday. On Saturday night, they were out until very late doing everything Math wanted to do.

  During that week, all of his friends and co-workers met Math. No one made jokes or rude comments about her. It meant they liked her and accepted her as a friend. That was good. One night they went to Toy’s bar, but the stares Math got from Lek made her very uncomfortable and they never went back.

  As often as not, they would go to the Music Lover Bar just outside of his condo. Math had befriended a couple of the girls there and she enjoyed talking to them. Mike was happy when she was happy, so they spent a lot of time at the Music Lover Bar.

  On Sunday, as they were getting dressed for dinner, Math’s cell phone, her handy, rang. From her smile and the tone of her voice she was obviously happy. Mike didn’t have to understand Thai to know it was her brother. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

  After talking for a couple of minutes, Math turned the phone off and looked over at Mike. Her smile faded as she watched his face. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I think maybe you are sick or something.”

  He tried to laugh but couldn’t. “I am not sick. Not yet anyway. Was that your brother?”

  She nodded.

  “So, you will be moving to his house now?”

  She stared at him, confused by his question. She wasn’t sure how to answer. “No, unless you want me to go.”

  A heady rush filled him. “I would like it very much, if you stayed here with me.”

  His smile told her everything she needed to know. “I would like that very much too,” she said.

  Math could tell just by looking in his eyes that he was indeed falling in love with her and she didn’t know why. She knew he didn’t know why either.

  That night, Mike took to her to an expensive restaurant and they both ate until they were stuffed. They talked about everything and nothing. They laughed like teenagers on their first date. When they got home, they did not make love. Instead, they held onto each other and enjoyed warm feelings of togetherness without either sexual desire or animal lust.

  When Mike came home from work the next Tuesday evening, he knew immediately that something was wrong. The lights were off and Math did not greet him at the door. He flicked on the kitchen light and looked around the condo. The light barely illuminated the bedroom, but enough for him to see the familiar lump under the blanket. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched her lightly.

  “Math? Are you awake?” he asked in a soft whisper.

  Only a small sob came from the blanket.

  “Sweetheart, are you okay?” his voice was higher, more urgent. He pulled the blanket away from her face. Tears had caused her mascara to run. “Hey, come on,” he said, handing her a tissue. “Why are you crying? You act like you just lost the love of your life. I know that’s not true, because I am still here.”

  She didn’t laugh at his weak joke. In a moment, she sat up in bed and held onto him. “There is something I did not tell you about myself,” she said, between sobs. “I am a very bad person. I think I will go to jail soon, and no one will ever see me again.”

  Her words assaulted his senses. He had the sensation of falling. “What could someone like you have done that is so bad that they would go to jail? Tell me what you are talking about.”

  He listened as she told him everything about her ex-fiancé and the lady-man, the gun and the shots. She left nothing out. When she finished her story, she added, “I am supposed to check with the police in Phitsanulok every two weeks until everything is settled one way or another. Today, I called the police and asked if I could miss this time. They told me no. I must be there this Friday. I don’t know what will happen. It is very close to the time that Sawat must make up his mind. I am afraid he will decide I should go to jail. I cannot live caged like an animal. I will die in a Thai jail.”

  “Just how bad was Sawat hurt?” he asked. “How long was he in the hospital?”

  “He was not hurt much. He was out of the hospital and back to work in three days.”

  “Are you sure you shot him?”

  “Yes, I saw the blood on his shirt. I know I hit him in the stomach someplace - two times.”

  “It couldn’t have been too bad, if he was back to work in three days. You probably just scratched him.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know.”

  “Have you talked to Sawat since then?”

  “Only once,” she answered. “I asked him to tell the police to never mind about everything.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He just laughed and said that if he could not have me, then he would make sure no other man had me either. His words were not polite.”

  Mike thought for a long time. “I don’t know what to tell you. Unless he changes his mind, this could be very bad. Do you think he still has feelings for you? Does he still love you?”

  “I don’t know,” Math said. “I only know what he said.”

  “The only thing I can think of is to call him and beg for his mercy. Tell him if he ever loved you, he would not make you go to jail. Tell him anything he wants to hear to make him change his mind. Tell him you will come back to him, if you think that would help.”

  “But I do not want to be back with him. I don’t love him. I love...” her words trailed away.

  He looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t finish her sentence. “I don’t know what else to suggest,” he said.

  They sat on the bed in silence. It was nearly dark outside. After a long while, Mike spoke, “I’m glad I don’t have a gun in the house.” His tone carried a large hint of humor.

  “Ah, but you have knives.” Math responded, laughing for the first time that evening.

  Later, after Math had fallen asleep, Mike hid the knives. Later still, he put them back where they belonged. He felt guilty for hiding them in the first place. He lay back down next to her and slept.

  On Wednesday evening, Mike bought Math a new suitcase. On Thursday morning, he gave her money for her trip then kissed her goodbye. He left for work, knowing he might never see her again. That evening when he got home, she was gone.

  Chapter 10

  Math caught the nine o’clock bus north toward Bangkok and her hometown. Dark thoughts haunted her every kilometer of the ride. She didn’t know what would happen but she was certain it would be nothing good. She spent most of the trip wondering how she would survive in prison.

  The traffic was unusually light and they made good time. She changed buses in Bangkok, and continued onward to Phitsanulok. Ten hours after leaving Pattaya, she was at her house. Her younger brother was there.

  “Hello, Yai,” she shouted, as she approached.

  Yai spun around at the sound of her voice. “Math! You are home. I am happy to see you.” He ran and threw his arms around her. “I missed
you, sister.”

  “I missed you too, Yai,” she said, hugging him back. Her dogs sprinted around, yapping and jumping in excitement. “I see you have been taking good care of my babies like you promised. You are a good boy. Thank you very much.”

  “Mai pen rai, never mind,” he said. “I like to play with your dogs. Tell me about Anan. Is he okay? Tell me about Pattaya, too.”

  Math laughed. “Anan is fine and his business is very good. I think he will be a very rich man some day. You would not believe Pattaya. It is right on the ocean. It is very beautiful. Many farangs go there on holiday. There are many restaurants and discos and things to do. I think you would like Pattaya. Maybe someday, when you are older, I will take you there to see everything.

  “Would you, Math?” Yai asked, almost pleading. “I would like that very much. I have never seen the ocean. Did you help Anan with his business?”

  “I helped him a little,” Math answered. “Anan was away for the first week I was in Pattaya. When he came back, I went with him on sales calls, so I could learn his business.”

  “Anan was not there for a whole week?” Yai asked. “Where did you stay? Weren’t you afraid to be in a strange city by yourself?”

  She hesitated, wondering what she should say. Finally, she answered, “I stayed with a friend.” Yai accepted her answer without question. She was that relieved he did not pursue the subject.

  “Did you meet any farangs? What are they like?”

  Farangs, foreigners, were an uncommon sight in Phitsanulok. Their sister, Itta, was married to a farang, but Yai had never met him. Itta had married the man from Scotland and moved away without ever bringing him home to meet her family. Math always figured it was because Itta was embarrassed by her family’s poorness.

  “I met a couple of farangs,” she chose her words carefully. “The ones I met were very nice and didn’t smell bad at all.”

  Yai laughed. All of his life he had heard that farangs smelled bad. “But they were fat and ugly weren’t they?” he asked, still laughing.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, laughing with him. “Very fat and very ugly.” She waited until Yai stopped laughing, and then changed the subject. “How is school? You are studying hard, I hope.”

  “School is okay,” he answered. “I don’t like to study, but my grades are good anyway.” Yai was one of those smart and lucky people who could learn without having to work at it.

  “You need to study very hard so when you grow up you can be an important businessman like your brother. I would be very proud to have two brothers who can help take care of our family.”

  “Watch this,” Yai said pointing at the dogs. “Lay down,” he ordered them. The dogs obeyed and Yai gave each a piece of dried fish from his pocket. Math laughed and clapped her hands.

  They chatted idly while they played with the dogs. Later, Math told Yai he should go home before it got too dark.

  After her brother had gone, Math sat alone inside her corrugated tin house. It was little more than one room with a bed, a dresser, and one chair. It wasn’t much, but it was her home. She sat on the bed and stared at her cell phone, her handy. In a while, she built the nerve to call Sawat. She dialed his number, hoping he wouldn’t answer. When she heard his voice, she almost hung up.

  “Hello, Sawat. I am Math,” she said, as nicely as possible. “How have you been?”

  “I am fine, thank you,” he replied, hesitant. “I’m surprised to hear from you. Are you okay, too?”

  “Yes, I am fine,” she said and then fell silent, not sure what to say next.

  After a long pause, Sawat said, “You are very quiet. That is most unusual of you.”

  “I am very nervous and very sad, Sawat. I am sad because I might go to jail soon. I am nervous because I need to ask you to do something for me.”

  “What do you want me to do, Math?” Sawat asked. “Do you want me to call the police and tell them to never mind?”

  “Yes,” she said, barely above a whisper, “That is what I want. Please say you will. If you have ever loved me and if you have any caring for me now, please ask the police to stop investigating me. My life is being turned upside down. I cannot get a job and I have no money for rent or food or anything. Please, Sawat, please ask them to stop. All you have to do is tell them and they will stop.”

  It was Sawat’s turn for silence. Finally, he spoke, “Math, really, I do not want you to go to jail, but I want you to be punished for what you did to me, for my pain and embarrassment. I think you have learned your lesson, but I am not sure what I will tell the police. Maybe I will tell them to stop or maybe I won’t. The decision is up to you.”

  “What do you mean, the decision is up to me?” A sharp uneasiness crept over her.

  His laugh was cold. “It is really very simple. I want to get back together with you. Maybe I am stupid, but I still love you. If you promise to come back to me, I will tell the police to stop.”

  Math thought furiously for an answer which would be neither committal nor offensive. After a moment she answered, “I think it is too early to tell you if that would be possible or not. I think maybe I need a little time to get my life back together first. Right now I am not sure I can love anyone. My life feels numb. I am sure you can understand that.”

  “No, I cannot.” Venom lined his words. “I don’t understand how you can not love me or how you could have shot me, no matter what I have done.” He paused, waiting for a response. When none came, he continued, “Since you are too stupid to understand anything, I am going to make this very clear. You are going to come back to me and you must do everything for me, no matter what. Do you understand me, Math?”

  The harshness of his words rasped against her ears. The last thing she wanted was to be back together with him. Images of Sawat with the boy caused her stomach to spasm. She fought the urge to vomit. “Yes, I understand,” she forced humbleness into her voice. She hated the words, even as they left her mouth. “But you must please give me time.”

  Sawat sighed into the phone. “Okay, I will give you time. I will tell the police to stop, but first, you must do something for me.”

  “What is that?” she asked, dreading his response.

  “Anything I ask,” he answered. “Now that we are getting together again, tonight I will come to your house and you will make love with me. In the morning, we will go to the police and I will sign papers telling them I do not want to press charges against you. Then, tomorrow night and any night after that, you will make love to me whenever I ask. I will give you six months to get your life back together and then you will marry me. That is what I want from you, Math. Do you understand me? That is what I want.”

  Every cell in her body screamed no. Tears filled her eyes, but she managed to keep her voice calm as she answered, “Okay, Sawat, if that is what you want, then that is what I will do for you.” She heard his quiet, self-satisfied laugh.

  “I will be there in fifteen minutes. Make sure you are clean, naked, and in bed. It’s been a long time.” With that he hung up the phone.

  Math’s tears overflowed and ran down her face. Her stomach rolled from the tension. Finally, her nausea came to fruition; she rushed outside and vomited in the bushes beside her house. After a few minutes, the nausea passed and she went to the communal bath to wash herself and brush her teeth. She didn’t put on make-up. He had not asked for that and she didn’t want to give him the pleasure of thinking she was making herself beautiful for him. She would make love to him, if her body would let her. She hoped that after he was finished, he would leave her for the night. In her room, she dried the water from her body and slipped under the covers of her bed to wait for Sawat. She waited a long while.

  After nearly an hour, she began to think he had decided not to come. That pleasant thought was shattered by a knock at the door. She didn’t get out of bed to answer it. She did not want him to see her naked. “Com
e in,” she shouted at the door. “It is not locked.”

  The door opened and Sawat entered. He held a bottle of Mekong Whiskey in his hand. “Looks like you’re ready for me,” he said smiling. “I knew you would be waiting.”

  Without further words, he stood the whiskey bottle on her small dresser, then walked over and sat beside her on the bed. He stared at her for a long minute before leaning over to kiss her neck. His hand slipped under the cover and pawed roughly at her breasts.

  She could smell the odor of sour whiskey on his breath. His groping hand was cold and hard. She didn’t respond to his kiss or his touch. She resisted the urge to shove him away.

  Sawat sat up straight, but left his hand atop her breast. “Guess you need a little warming up, huh? It has been a while since you had me. Maybe you have forgotten how good I am for you.” He gave her breast one last hard squeeze then stood. Slowly, he removed his clothes, as if putting on a strip show for her.

  His body was as lean and hard as she remembered. She looked for a scar from his gunshot wound, but saw none. When he removed his jeans, she could see that he was already aroused. Against her will, she could feel her own body responding to the sight of his excitement. When he finally lay down beside her, she was ready to accept him. His hand slid between her legs and he felt her wetness.

  “I knew you wanted me again,” Sawat said.

  “You must use a condom; I do not want to get pregnant.” Her fertile cycle had passed over a week ago, so she knew there was no danger of pregnancy. But she was keenly aware of Sawat’s sexual adventures with the lady-man and Buddha only knew who else. She was terrified of catching some disease, especially AIDS.

  “I do not want to use a condom and I will not,” he snapped. Without foreplay, he positioned himself on top of her and pushed her legs apart. In one quick lunge, he forced himself into her body.

  Math made a small moaning sound. It was not from pleasure but from the pain of such quick penetration.

 

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