Runaways

by Rachel Sawden

  “Hey.” She batted her eyelashes back at him.

  I stuffed another wanton into my mouth and asked, “Where’s Felix and Kelly?”

  “They went on a boat trip to some nearby island to go diving.” He paused to pull his sleeves back to his elbows. “I get seasick, so I rented a motorcycle for the day. Do you girls feel like riding up the coast to Danang?”

  Lana nodded and smoothed her hair.

  “Can we all fit on your bike?” I asked. I would have gladly stayed behind if it meant Lana was happy. “I can stay.”

  “Have you seen how many people can fit on a motorbike over here? We’d still have space for two more people, a dog, and a tree,” he said, making Lana laugh.

  “Come with us,” Lana said, reaching across the table for my hand.

  I raised my eyebrows and mouthed, “Are you sure?”

  She nodded back and mouthed, “Yes.”

  Once we paid our bill, we piled onto the motorcycle and left the Old Town. As we rode along a sandy road next to flooded rice fields into the surrounding lush green countryside, I looked up at the blue sky and told whoever was listening, “Thank you.”

  ***

  After one more day in Hoi An, we took yet another sleeper bus to Ho Chi Minh City, and this time the journey lasted a delightful twenty-six hours. We wandered in the sweltering heat of “The Paris of the Orient,” nibbling on flakey pastries, and Lana decided that perhaps jumping into such a large-scope business wasn’t the best of ideas, particularly given that she had little experience and no formal business education. She was still mad at Jade for leaving with barely any communication. And once we received word from Jade to meet us at the guesthouse she was staying at in Phnom Penh the following day, we booked our bus. As I stared out the window of the bus, the air and terrain became arid, the bushes and trees brittle and brown, and I debated whether to tell Jade about my plans to travel with Miles. It would probably make her defend her decision to leave even stronger, anything to keep me away from him.

  Chapter 20

  Date: March 14, 2010

  Phnom Penh, Cambodia

  As the sun hung low above the horizon, the bus deposited Lana and me in a parking lot in Phnom Penh into a hoard of aggressive tuk tuk drivers desperate for business. After one pushed us into his tuk tuk, we handed him a piece of paper with the guesthouse address and a crudely drawn map, and we set off into the stifling and overcrowded city. The wind licked through our hair as we puttered down the boulevard next to the Tonle Sap River. We passed palaces, pagodas, and manicured gardens until the water disappeared, and the ornate buildings turned to rows of crumbling apartment blocks. Under a tangle of sparking electrical wires running the length of the block, our tuk tuk driver parked and pointed to an entranceway between two street vendors turning smoking sticks of organ meat on small grills.

  The slapping of our flip-flops echoed on the stained walls as we climbed the tile staircase and found Jade’s room number. We knocked, having prepared ourselves for “the talk”, but when the door swung open, an oddly familiar face I couldn’t place greeted us.

  “Hi, you guys must be Harper and Lana,” the voice came from a tall girl with white-blond hair. “I’m Mira. Come in.”

  She stepped aside, and I followed behind Lana into the room. It was a large room with a discoloured tan tile floor and bare, windowless white walls that had all the charm of a mental institution. Two double beds and a slender cot with threadbare sheets were pushed against one of the walls with little more than a foot between them. At the wall nearest the foot of the beds sat three backpacks overflowing with clothes. A petite brunette with golden skin and rectangular glasses sat on one of the beds and introduced herself as Elin.

  “We sort of met the other week in Vang Vieng,” Elin said, peering over her glasses.

  Then I recognized them. These were the Swedish girls Felix had gone home with on our first night at Bucket Bar. I glanced at Lana, who was suppressing a smile. Hoping my poker face didn’t crack, I said, “Ah yes, I remember.”

  As we set our bags down, the toilet flushed, and Jade emerged from behind the plywood door. Lana crossed her arms, and I gave her a terse smile.

  “Girls,” she said, looking at Elin and Mira, “could you give us a moment?”

  Elin rolled off the bed and Mira grabbed a purse from the floor. “Sure, we were just going to get a snack. We’ll meet back up for dinner?”

  Jade nodded, and when the door closed behind them, Lana and I stood with our feet apart, arms crossed, waiting for Jade to explain herself.

  “I’m really sorry for ditching you guys,” she said, taking a seat on the foot of the cot. “It’s just Arturo and I were connecting in a way I had never felt before. His aura was so spectacular.”

  “Jade, we had a plan. We were business partners. You couldn’t have communicated with me in advance?”

  “I didn’t think the business meant that much to you,” she said, her eyes wide.

  “Yeah, well it did. Here, look at what happened to the vision.” Lana pulled at the strings of her backpack. She pulled out a cloth bag and dropped it on Jade’s lap. Jade pulled out the garment that vaguely resembled yoga pants and inspected it. “There are plenty more pieces of butchered saris in there.”

  Biting her lip, Jade looked back up at Lana. “I’m so sorry. I thought all this time you were just trying to help me with my crazy idea. And…and, to be honest, I was jealous of you girls. Xavier and Harper, Chad and you, I just wanted a love affair of my own.”

  Lana lowered onto the cot next to her, and Jade threw her arms around her neck, apologizing over and over again. Then, as if someone flicked a switch, Lana’s face turned from irritated to intrigued. “So spill. You better not still be celibate.”

  A dirty little smile crept across Jade’s face as she shook her head. I was happy for her, too. Happy that she let someone break through the wall she had put up after that asshat Cliff’s infidelity. She was healing and learning to trust again.

  “Well, then,” Lana said with a wink, “so long as someone got laid, I guess it wasn’t for nothing.”

  Then with a hug, Lana rose to her feet and disappeared into the bathroom. Even though I was happy that they had patched things up, a coal of irritation burned for what Jade had said about Miles and me. She looked up with a smile that hadn’t quite made its way to her eyes. “How did you like Hoi An?”

  “Jade,” I said in a strong yet measured tone. I was tired, hungry, bursting to pee and in no mood for her to ignore the issue.

  She sighed and threw up her hands. “I’m sorry that you heard what I said.”

  “But you’re not sorry you said it?” I crossed my arms.

  “Harper, remember how you helped me get through getting my heart smashed? If I said I was getting back together with Cliff, how would you feel about it?”

  “That’s different. And a lot of time has passed since that party.”

  “Answer my question.”

  As I leaned against the cold wall, I thought of myself in her shoes. I would do whatever I could to talk her out of it. “Not happy.”

  “I only feel so strongly because I love you. Same goes for that beautiful spirit in there,” she said, pointing to the bathroom.

  I sighed and took the seat next to her. I understood where she was coming from, but I had to do whatever I felt was best for me. “I love you both, too.”

  Once Lana and I showered, we joined the Swedish girls for dinner at one of the many colonial-style restaurants on the river boulevard and spent the night eating, drinking, and swapping stories. The stories continued through the next day as we braved the oppressive heat, riffling through knockoff designer goods at the Russian market and admiring the cultural artifacts that had survived the brutal genocide of the Khmer Rouge at the National Museum. After a tour of the magnificent gold-adorned Royal Palace, we crossed the boulevard and sat on a panel of grass in the sidewalk next to the riverbank. Catching the warm afternoon sun, we munched on lightly sweetened po
pcorn from a roadside vendor and I thought about my upcoming date with Miles that night, and wondered what it meant for us.

  I took a look at my watch and realized that I only had an hour to get myself ready. I shot to my feet. “I’m going to head back to the room.”

  “Oh right, your date,” Lana said, picking grass off of her legs.

  Jade shielded her eyes from the warm light as she looked up at me. “You have a date? With Miles?”

  I glanced at my toes before straightening my back wondering why I felt embarrassed. I was an adult. I could make my own decision. “Yes.”

  “Miles Cooper?” Mira said.

  My eyes shot to her., “How do you know him?”

  “We met in Krabi the week before we were in Vang Vieng,” she said, turning to Elin. “Remember the uptight guy with the polo shirts?”

  I smiled at the description as Elin nodded and stuffed another handful of popcorn in her mouth.

  “So I’ll see you girls later then?” I ignored Jade’s death stare and waved down a tuk tuk.

  With barely an hour until I was to be picked up, I washed and towel-dried my hair, attempted an up-do, and then abandoned said up-do. After slapping on some eye shadow, mascara, and blush, I reattempted the up-do only for it to be abandoned again. Then I had to reapply the makeup that sweated off during the reattempted up-do that was a bad decision to begin with. Slipping into my purple cotton dress and sliding on a fresh pair of silver knockoff Havaiana flip-flops from the Russian market, I grabbed my purse and fanned myself as I made my way down the stairs. With nerves tangling in my stomach, I stood on the curb swatting hungry mosquitoes from my legs until a slick black sedan pulled over in front of me.

  The door opened, and Miles stepped into the street, his movements as fluid as water, and reached for my hand. He wore khaki slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbow. Nerves took over when he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Your chariot, my lady,” he said as he pulled his face back from mine with a smile.

  I slid across the cool black leather as he closed the door. I greeted the driver, only able to see his spotless gloves on the steering wheel. A moment later, Miles opened the door on the other side and joined me in the back seat. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and I lost myself in his eyes.

  “I’m the luckiest man in the world, to dine with you tonight.”

  Heat spread across my skin as I muttered, “Thank you.”

  The engine purred, and I fiddled with my fingers looking ahead, neither one of us speaking a word in the five minutes it took to reach the hotel. We made eye contact, and the air between us seemed to crackle. As I noticed the trail of freckling on his forearm, I remembered a birthmark that kissed his pale skin just below his hipbone. We were now both grown adults, I wanted to feel those greedy feelings I had felt with Xavier again, and I could only imagine that if we took the chance to be intimate he could make me feel that way.

  The car turned off the main road and rolled down a path towards a towering cream-coloured building ten stories tall topped with a red-brick roof. As the car stopped under a covered archway, I reached for the door handle.

  “Allow me,” Miles said as the bellhop opened his door.

  I sat with nothing but my butterflies to accompany me as he dashed around the back of the car and opened my door. Gently pulling me out by the hand into the dry evening heat, he offered me the crook of his elbow. I linked my arm in his, and he led me through the doors into the elegant marble foyer. A soft pink glow from the setting sun spilled through the windows onto the rich gold and brown hues that were splashed onto the walls and embedded in the intricate designs on the reception desk. After walking down a long hallway, we arrived at the restaurant, Do Forni, and I was not in the least bit surprised that he came all the way to Southeast Asia for Italian food.

  The room was semi-oblong shaped with a concave dark-wood paneled ceiling, a brick pizza oven at one end, and white, windowed walls curling around the other. We were greeted by a beautiful Cambodian woman and shown to our table. As I sank into the red-cushioned chairs, I splayed my fingers across the soft white tablecloths, grateful to be there, but somehow feeling a little like an imposter.

  “This place is really nice,” I said, noticing the elaborate detail on the walls where the curved windows ended.

  “Yes, and they bring the food and drinks in the proper order. I’ve had too many experiences at these provincial restaurants where they don’t bring everyone’s food out at once. One time, half of the meals came out before the drinks.”

  “Well, it’s because of the communal culture here. Food is meant to be shared, so they just bring it out when it’s ready,” I said, remembering picking that piece of information up in Vientiane. “In fact, in Laos they don’t even have a word for my or mine.”

  His lips spread as he leaned in. “What would I do without you?”

  “Offend everyone?” I teased.

  As we fell into each other’s gaze, the waiter appeared next to the table. Miles ordered a bottle of wine with a name no normal person could ever hope to pronounce.

  “So Jade ran off with that unwashed Argentinian in pajama pants?” he said, offering me the breadbasket across the table.

  I took a roll, tore it in half, and proceeded to tell him the story of the implosion of her and Lana’s business venture. By the time I told him about our Hawaiian savior in Hoi An, the waiter brought our wine.

  “You ladies must have had your fair share of admirers along the way.”

  I shot him a smirk. “Mostly untouchables.”

  “I hope that doesn’t mean me.”

  I raised my glass with a wink. “To untouchables.”

  “Hopefully changing their caste.” He tipped his glass forward to touch mine.

  With the first sip of wine. I felt more relaxed with him, and more at ease in our plush surroundings. As the wine flowed and decadent food was ordered, laid out on the table, and eaten with no shame at the calorie count, he told me of his time in the north touring pristine waterfalls, undulating rice paddy terraces, hill tribe markets, and witnessing the most spectacular sunsets imaginable.

  “It sounds amazing. I wish I could have seen it.” I blew out a breath and thought of the possibilities.

  “Me too,” he said, reaching across the table. As he took my hand, a ghost of a smile curled his lips as the realization hit. “You would have said yes to come with me?”

  I bit my lip and the word “Yes,” tumbled out. And without having to say it, I told Miles Cooper that I liked him. Unspoken words hung in the air as it shifted between us. Feeling self-conscious in his hooded gaze, I had to change topic. “So, Singapore. Are you excited?”

  He drew in a deep breath and dropped his gaze. “New beginnings can be exciting, but I don’t know anyone. I’m a little scared to be honest.”

  His vulnerability tugged at me. I knew how hard it was to be alone, but I couldn’t imagine setting up a new life fifteen thousand miles away from home by myself. And I knew his parents were hard-assed, ruthless lawyers who were two of the most respected legal minds in all of Canada. The bar for him had been set high.

  As the waiter opened a new bottle of wine, he sipped the dark red liquid, and as he swirled it around in his glass, inspecting the “legs” dripping down the sides, his eyes darted to mine. “You should come to Singapore with me.”

  “It’s a nice thought, but I can’t fit it in. I have to fly to Sydney in less than two weeks to meet my parents.”

  “What about after that?” He paused to take another sip. “I don’t mean just to visit.”

  Was he saying what I thought he was saying? If he was, this date just escalated really quickly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Harper, seeing you again turned my world upside down. I don’t think us running into each other is just a coincidence.”

  Yes, yes, he was saying what I thought he was saying. And then all of the questions crow
ded in my mind.

  “Where would I live? What would I do in Singapore?”

  “Be with me. I can help you find a job.”

  Why do boys never listen? “I want to do my photography.”

  “You can do that, too,” he said, reaching across the table for my hand.

  His eyes pleaded with mine. If he paid for my change of ticket, I could fly back from Sydney when my parents left. I had fallen in love with Southeast Asia. I liked Miles. It all certainly fit with my five-year plan, but for some reason, I couldn’t say yes. Instead, I stated the obvious. “Miles, this is crazy.”

  “Isn’t it?” he said before throwing his head back, laughing. I covered my face as the other diners glared our way. “Harper, look at what you’ve done to me. What you do to me. I barely recognize myself. You want to know what is crazy? In Luang Prabang, I took your camera.”

  My body flushed red-hot.

  “You what?!” My voice now drew stares from the other diners. “I can’t believe you —”

  “I know, it was stupid and reckless and I’m sorry. But don’t you see? I had to see you again.”

  I paused. What he did was thoughtless and infuriating, but his reasons were, dare I say it, romantic.

  “You just keep digging your hole deeper.”

  “I know. But look at what I was willing to do to keep you in my life. That is what you mean to me.”

  I glared at him as I clutched the stem of my wine glass. I opened my mouth to tell him off for giving me the fright of my life by taking my camera, but before I could say anything, he spoke again.

  “And I have to tell you some things about my life before I came here, please try to understand me. I was in a serious relationship, you remember Celia Butterfield?”

  Of course I did. She was the bitch who broke his heart days before our night together. After all these years, I never knew they got back together.

  “We were heading towards marriage but when my father gave the orders for me to open the Singapore office, she left me. I was heartbroken. But when I saw you at the waterfall, it was like the sun rising on my soul again. And an epiphany hit me that night when we had drinks: this awfulness happened to bring me closer to you. And I will spend as long as it takes to dig myself out of my hole, fill it in and build a pedestal to put you on.”