by B. D. Riehl
Charlotte had been able to get Noah to sleep in his bassinet so that she could eat breakfast with her sister. Megan sat with him. The aroma of fresh coffee danced between them as Charlotte held a thick mug under her nose, seemingly in hopes that she could breathe the caffeine straight to her foggy brain.
“I’m sorry, Dee. I hate to send you off alone. I know you didn’t even want to come.”
“I think I’ll be okay. It’s time I stopped thinking so much about myself, isn’t it? I am ashamed as I think about our life, how much we have,” she confessed. Uncomfortable with the admission, she rushed on, “Anyway, how crazy is it that you are here at just the right time to help Noah? It’s all kind of surreal.” She watched Charlotte stir sugar in her coffee and thought of the cinnamon-sugar entwined fingers from yesterday. Her mouth went dry. What would Ethan think of her reaction to Cambodia so far, to her budding friendship with Michelle, a girl he called a “Jesus Freak”? What would he say to this poverty…to Kiet? It didn’t matter, of course, but still she wondered.
“Or maybe it’s just the work of a God that cares?” Charlotte asked, breaking through Lydia’s thoughts. Her voice took on a knowing tone.
“I don’t know about that,” Lydia smiled good-naturedly. “I do know that I need to get going before you get all preachy on me.” She rose and hugged her older sister around the neck. She leaned back, crinkling her nose. “You smell like spit-up.”
Charlotte laughed.
“See you back home, I guess. Love you.”
“Dee?”
Lydia turned at the door. “Yeah?”
Charlotte set down her coffee and walked to her little sister. She placed her hand on her forehead, ignored the embarrassed look on Lydia’s face and said, “May the Lord bless you and keep you. May He tear down your walls and storm your heart. May He show you that He and He alone is good. May He kick your hiney into submission.”
Lydia’s smile wobbled and tears stung her eyes.
Charlotte playfully swatted her behind, effectively ending the melancholy moment.
Chapter Fourteen
Joy and trepidation filled Suchin when Dugan opened the door. It had been more than a week since she had met him and the longing continued to pierce her heart. Doubt also waged war within her, and she understood now why Nataya had become so pensive before she left. If she had really gone with Dugan and Moree, was she free? She doubted it. To a twelve-year-old sex slave, hope was a fairytale. The promises he and Moree made couldn’t hold true, could they? Still, a sliver of forbidden anticipation remained as Nataya still had not returned. Had she really sent them to her?
This time, Dugan left the room while Moree spoke with her. She promised that if Suchin would go with them, she would immediately be put on a plane and flown out of Pattaya to a safe house. “There you will be clothed and fed. You will go to school, and we will teach you how to sew, make jewelry, cook, anything you want. Whatever you want to do to make a living, we will teach you to do it. We will care for you…”
Suchin remembered a similar proposal a few years ago.
The men had been so smooth and convincing. Attractive, they carried themselves well, and made such grand promises. Through the night, as she laid in the quiet, listening to the churning river outside of the thatched roof house, the only home she had ever known, she had hoped that they were right. That she could make enough money through hard work to support her family. She did not want to leave, did not wish to be away from her family or home, but she had seen the determination in her mother’s eyes. She knew better than to speak against the decision.
Rai Pen Rai. It cannot be helped, so why bother?
When they got her to the city, after raping her and the other girls with them repeatedly on the way, she found no restaurant, no money to send home to her family. Only the overwhelming reality that the ravaging had only just begun and the village of her childhood was a distant memory. She only believed in it when she dreamt of the white elephant.…
Moree responded to the helplessness in her eyes. She reached into a bag and pulled out a laptop computer. Suchin was confused as she silently typed for a minute on the keys and turned the screen for Suchin to see.
Suchin caught her breath at the sight of Nataya, frozen on the screen. Moree pushed another key and Nataya came to life. Nataya’s once stringy, orange streaked hair now shimmered black and cascaded past her shoulders. Her cheeks had bloomed to a healthy, full glow. And her eyes! Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.
“My dear little friend, I hated to leave you. Hated more that I couldn’t take you with me. I know you probably think this is a trick, that these people are pursuing you for another brothel or worse. I felt the same. I met with them many times before I finally said yes.” Nataya paused after yes.
Yes. The magnitude of that word was not lost on Suchin. It danced off of Nataya’s tongue and stirred hope in Suchin’s heart. Nataya’s eyes shimmered with joyful tears. Suchin had never seen that look on her friend’s face before. A sob caught in Suchin’s throat and her hands came to her face. Nataya was radiant! The gray of their little room had muted Nataya’s beauty before. Now Suchin felt drawn to the brightness of her eyes, almost reached out to touch the white teeth behind the screen, but pulled back as Nataya tilted her head to the side and brought her own hands clasped together beneath her chin imploringly.
“Suchin, you must decide this for yourself. If you say yes, you will experience a world we only dreamed existed. The girls here laugh; we play, we learn. We work, really work and collapse into bed at night with accomplishment and pride at what we’ve done. We know things about the world that…well it’s too much to say on a video. You must come and learn for yourself. Say yes. Don’t hesitate. Walk away forever. Trust them.” She took a deep breath. “I finally did because the danger that it might not be true was worth it to me. The pain each time I returned to Lok Lee was too much to bear. I’m sure the same is happening to you. Do you hope to see Moree every time a door opens? I did. Stop dreaming; come.”
Suchin swallowed convulsively. The video stopped and Nataya’s smile froze on the screen.
Moree whispered, “Please say yes. Please escape. We offer you freedom. Your friend wants this for you.”
Suchin stared at Nataya’s face until the screen went dark. The darkness was like a slap to the face. No. She couldn’t believe this. So they brushed her hair and did her makeup. So what? She couldn’t trust Nataya any more than she could trust the men that ruined her life forever. She knew many girls were used to lure others into their world. She shook her head.
Moree’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, even as Suchin straightened hers in resolve.
No. She could trust no one. The thought of the unknown, even if there was a chance that it was true, was more frightening than what she already knew. She knew her life. She knew what to expect and knew what was true and real. To hope was as useless as the dream of finding a white elephant.
She left the motel after Dugan and Moree begged with her to reconsider. They promised they would seek her out again, but warned that her time could be short.
Suchin knew they were right; girls in her world didn’t last many years. Even though she was a child, Suchin understood that the human body could only endure so much before it gave out. The ones that managed to survive were kicked out when they aged out of Walking Street—at age twenty or so.
When Suchin exited the motel she saw the same man that had brought her there waiting to return her. She locked her eyes on his for just a moment before she made a snap decision and kicked him hard in the groin. Suchin hesitated when he doubled over in pain and ground out a foul word. She widened her eyes at him before she turned the other way and ran.
The back streets twisted and turned. A heavy darkness followed her, its breath hot on the back of her neck. She tripped, sobs racking her tiny, bruised frame. The pain in her knees felt like a million needles pricking her at once. She fought to stand, stumbled, and rushed on.
Suchin had no
plan, no thought of where to go. She ran away from the pulsating rhythm of Walking Street and into the darkness beyond. Whether she ran for hours or only moments, she didn’t know. She did know that she was terrified—and desperate.
When she reached the beach, she finally collapsed onto the soft sand and wept. She wept for her lost life, wept for Nataya. She cried because she had run with no thought or plan and had no idea what to do. She beat the sand in memory of all who had violated her.
Eventually, she drew herself up and pulled her knees to her chin; tears stained her cheeks. The salty air stung and she watched as the waves crashed on the shore and drew the moonlight back to the ocean. Her mind was numb, her heart raw. Why did they have to give her hope? Why stir these feelings of longing inside of her?
“Awfully late for you to be out, isn’t it, little one?” Suchin, startled, turned to see the source of that velvety voice.
A woman, not much older than Nataya, stood next to her and also watched the waves. Her form was rail thin, except for a swollen, pregnant belly. The woman was disheveled and Suchin saw that her bare feet were red and swollen, covered in infected sores. When Suchin didn’t answer her, she slowly, haltingly, lowered herself to the sand.
“So you want to make it on your own, huh?” She arched a brow in Suchin’s direction and rested an arm on her belly.
“I just…I just can’t be there anymore. I want to believe them, but I can’t. How can I go back now? I never should have said no, never should have kicked that man. Now it’s too late, isn’t it?” Suchin’s voice trembled. She realized this woman didn’t know what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter.
The pregnant stranger wore a hard expression on her face. She grabbed Suchin’s shoulder with surprising strength given her haggard appearance. “You think you can come to my beach and take my customers from me? Think again, you little rat. You better move on if you know what’s good for you.”
Suchin shook. The woman was surprisingly strong and so angry with her. She was anxious to explain. “No, I don’t want your customers or your beach. I just want to be done. I want to be and do anything but…” her voice trailed off, unsure of how to express herself.
The woman’s face was like stone, but her grip loosened. “So you want to get out?” She gave a short, gruff laugh. “You think you’re better than the rest of us? Where will you go? What will you do?” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she didn’t expect an answer. “Right now, little girl, you have it made. Shelter. Food. Customers brought to you. Soon you’ll have to find them yourself; eventually you’ll be sent out on your own, with nothing except the clothes on your back and the mark of a man on you.” She gestured crudely to her stomach. “Be grateful for where you are…or don’t be; I don’t really care. I just want you off my beach.” She shoved at Suchin until she scrambled to get away.
Only then did Suchin notice that she hadn’t run far at all. She recognized the way to Walking Street and hesitated only for a minute before she hung her head and walked in that direction, the smell of street foods and cigarette smoke growing stronger with each step.
Suchin was exhausted, heartsick and weary when she finally found the karaoke bar she belonged to. She passed young women playing cards with old men at tables outside. She hesitantly stepped over the threshold to go deeper into the bar.
The contrast of loud music and smoke was an affront to her senses. She hated it. She hated her world and as she stepped into it, she instantly regretted her choice. When Lok Lee noticed her and ordered her to his own room, she felt sick. Nataya was right: the danger of the unknown was frightening, but this was worse.
Lok Lee’s stale smell wafted behind him as he pulled her up the stairs. Once inside, he locked the door and turned on her, striking her across the face. She reeled back and caught herself on the bed, her cheek stinging.
“Where have you been?” he growled at her.
Her mouth opened, but she was too afraid to say anything.
He struck her again, harder, and cursed. “Don’t be stupid. The man that took you didn’t pay for you to be gone this long. Where have you been?”
Suchin unconsciously shook her head. Her neck snapped painfully when he hit her again. He continued to punch her and shouted threats if she didn’t tell him what was said. Afraid, blood flowing from her nose and down the back of her throat, she finally told him.
He sneered, “You? You thought you could be on your own? You’re pathetic. You’re nothing. If you value your life, you will never attempt that again.”
Her eyes blinked as spots danced before her, distorting his ugly form. He was a fool: she didn’t value her life in the least. No one else had, why should she?
He continued to beat her. The strikes and blows were laced with threats and ugly insinuations. While Suchin didn’t value her life, she did fear death. She knew better than to try and run again.
And now because of her foolish choice, Moree and Dugan would never again come for her. She knew deep in her heart that she had lost her chance at freedom.
Chapter Fifteen
Lydia swallowed past the lump in her throat as she found her seat on the plane. She scooted past two empty seats to be next to the window and slid her backpack under the seat in front of her. She wished she had thought to stay with her sister. She could have helped with Noah, or played with Maly more. There were plenty of others going on to Thailand. Her heart leaped at the thought of being alone the next ten days, and she reached for her backpack, determined to find Patsy and tell her she would take a cab back to Deliverance and remain with Charlotte.
“Don’t you dare.” Michelle stood in the aisle, blocking the exit. She shrugged off her bag and took the seat next to Lydia. “Charlotte will be fine. You will be fine. Anyhow, if you go running off this plane now, someone will report it as suspicious behavior, and they’ll shut the entire airport down.” She gave a longsuffering sigh. “Maybe even airports all over the world. You could cause chaos everywhere.”
The idea was so outrageous, Lydia smiled in spite of herself.
Michelle smiled back. “Besides,” she continued in a whisper, “I asked Patsy if she could work it out for us to be roommates. If you leave now, who knows who I’ll end up rooming with?”
“Haven’t you been rooming with Patsy?” Lydia asked.
Michelle clucked her tongue at Lydia, “Now, didn’t your mother ever teach you that no one likes a know-it-all?”
As the plane took off, Michelle chattered away, relieving Lydia of thoughts of loneliness and missing Charlotte. They found they had the same taste in books and music, something that surprised them both. It was a short flight, and soon they landed and taxied in. Lydia still apprehensive but feeling more at ease.
Lydia’s breath caught when they disembarked from the plane, and she saw Kiet waiting in the terminal. He had left with Paul after the meeting the night before, and she wasn’t sure if they would see him again. His eyes found hers among their group and softened. She stopped to fumble with her backpack and jumped when his voice spoke next to her ear, stirring the tendrils of hair that escaped from her braid.
“How is Charlotte?” Kiet asked. “I hear she’s staying with the baby.”
“She’s tired but good, I think. She’s an amazing mom. That little guy is lucky to have her for a while.” Uncomfortable, Lydia looped her arms through the straps on her bag, wincing when her braid became caught under one.
Kiet noticed and reached to tug her hair free. “And you? How are you?”
Lydia’s hands fluttered around her neck, then grasped the braid. Was it really still warm from his touch? “I’m okay,” she mumbled.
“She’s great.” Michelle appeared next to her and looped an arm through Lydia’s. Luke stood next to Michelle and nodded at them all. He seemed uncomfortable, and Lydia wondered if he was unhappy that his best friend had taken her in.
Kiet smiled at all of them, then went ahead to usher the group toward the tuk tuks to take them to the Deliverance dorms
. The plan was to drop their things in their rooms, then on to a trusted open market to immerse in the culture. Later that night, the group would tour Walking Street and see for themselves what happens there. The night would end with a bonfire at Deliverance headquarters.
On the ride through the streets of Pattaya, the group commented on how different the city was from where they had just been. Although serious pollution was evident, and they knew poverty was just as severe there, the tall buildings, fast moving mopeds, and busy streets, buzzed with big city charm.
Lydia and Michelle checked into their room, a small space with two small beds and a basic bathroom with a toilet and sink. The showers were down the hall, just as they had been at the dorms in Cambodia. Lydia set her things on the counter in the bathroom and shrieked when she noticed a large spider staring at her from the wall opposite of the sink. Michelle rushed in and they clung to one another in a mess of squeals before Michelle slipped off her sandal and attacked the arachnid with surprising force. The girls laughed together and shuddered off and on while they changed into comfortable shoes.
“Lydia, do you think you could braid my hair like yours?” Michelle looked uncertain for the first time that day.
“Well, I suppose you did save my life from that monster in the bathroom,” Lydia agreed dramatically. She told her to sit on the floor near the bed. When Michelle shook her hair out of its typical messy bun, Lydia gasped, amazed by how full and thick it was.
“Wow,” Lydia muttered. “Michelle, your hair is amazing. Why don’t you ever do anything with it?”
“Because it’s a mess.” Michelle grabbed a strand and looked at it in disdain. “It’s so thick that if I leave it down, it’s a wild mess,” she said again.
“Have you ever thought of cutting it?” Lydia took the strand back from Michelle, and broke her hair into sections.
“Umm, I did, in fifth grade. Remember the mushroom years?”