by Ben Ezzell
“Kuhn, bring plate and tea for Kun Taskin, ka,” Mam directed. “Geen kow, ka.”
“I’m afraid that everyone else is gone at present,” Terry apologized. “But Kun Bob tell how get camera back – did vendor say who get from, kahp?”
“Krahp,” the inspector agreed. “Have luggage, ask Kun Maguire to identify. Have some jewelry also. Not find other camera. CD player. Not find fax machine or television. Need Kun Maguire, Kun Krews come to station, krahp.”
“Did you catch kamoy, kahp?”
“Mai krahp,” the Inspector denied, accepting a serving of rice and reaching for the curry. “Kamoy gone, not find. Only luggage, other things. Think someone warn kamoy, maybe,” he shrugged. “But get back some items – this good, mai krahp?”
Kaat Luang Market, 1:15 PM
“You sure not mind, mai kahp?” Tahm asked. “This not market for tourist.”
“All the better,” Joan assured him, looking up at the nondescript building. “Much more interesting, yes?”
Over all, the building looked to be three stories tall and sprawled across a block or more of land, not including parking areas. The parking areas were partially hidden by trees but showed an eclectic mix of large trucks, small pickups, cars, motorcycles with homemade sidecars, motor scooters and bicycles as well as the ever-present tuk-tuks and samlors.
Inside, as Joan followed her native guide, the three floors of the building became a maze of shops, some large, some small, all filled with merchandise and all busy.
Store near Baan Orchid, 2:13 PM
“Policeman come Baan Orchid,” Kuhn spoke into phone. ”Say find things stolen but not find you. I worry.”
“That why I say never bring goods home, kahp. So they find stall at old market – not important. Nothing there for them to find. Suitcase there, few things, mai pen rhy. Everything good already sell. Because fool try sell camera here Chiang Mai, he lose, not us. You quit worry. Show where he buy from, sure but he not say who he buy from, kahp. Soon not matter anyway. Tonight we come river bank. Three in morning, kahp. Dark then, no moon. Then we take care safe and you leave, mai kahp?”
“Three in morning, kahp!” Kuhn agreed, grudgingly, hanging up the phone. “Sang Thip, kahp,” Kuhn addressed the barkeeper.
Before returning to Baan Orchid, Kuhn consumed a second shot of the local rum. This job was not to his liking. Too much hard work was not good for nerves.
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Eighteen:
Chapter Eighteen:
Kaat Luang Market, Chiang Mai, Thursday, February 8th, 2:20 PM
“You not need pay,” Tahm complained. “And not need carry.”
“Nonsense, you have the talent, I have the money. And it was my idea so don’t be silly. Besides, the way you haggle, none of this cost anything.”
“Get good price, kahp,” Tahm was pleased with the compliment. “But still pang mak, not cheap.”
“When will you hook these up?
“Tahm make when get back. Put up tonight, after dark, mai kahp? Not take long but not tell, kahp?”
“Not tell, ka,” Joan laughed. “Not tell.”
Baan Orchid, 4:20 PM
“Our loving pair,” Rosalyn suggested, “appear to have had a spat. Would you believe they haven’t even spoken to each other all day?”
“You mean Bren and Jeffery, of course,” Joan nodded. “Yes, I was afraid that was it. Since they were sitting at opposite corners of the table this morning. A pity really – they seemed so happy with each other. But I suppose they’re just like anyone else. I do hope they’ll get over it. Still, the best thing is just not to mention it, you know?”
“Mention it? Not a chance,” Rosalyn shook her head. “I don’t even take my children’s sides if they argue with their spouses. Not that I’m unsympathetic, understand, but that’s one sure way to alienate both sides. It doesn’t matter who’s right or who’s wrong. You just have to let them work it out themselves.”
“And,” Rosalyn turned to Tanya, “when you’re a mother, you remember that now. Speaking of which, how was your date last night?”
4:27 PM
“We’re going to have to talk sometime,” Bren suggested softly.
“Are we?” Jeffery disagreed. “I suppose you’re in a rush, right? You have a hot date tonight, right? With that tight-ass little boy-toy you were so cozy with last night? Or do you have a couple of them? They are small.”
“Don’t … please …” Bren tried to keep his voice steady.
“Just go … play with your new friend …” Jeffery snapped, storming out of the room.
Bren watched his partner leave, clinching his fists in frustration. What was wrong with the man anyway? He didn’t used to act like this.
Part of him wanted to run after Jeffery and … and what? Drag him back? Hug him and beg for forgiveness? But forgiveness for what? He hadn’t done anything.
If only, he wished, if only they hadn’t gone to the Iron Butterfly? Except that nothing had happened – couldn’t Jeffery understand that?
Sure, he’d danced with a couple of the ‘entertainers’. So had Jeffery. What was wrong with that? They were supposed to be on vacation, weren’t they? What was wrong with having a good time?
That was the whole point, wasn’t it? That was why they’d sold the Chez Watz chain – so that they’d have time to do something beside work.
And now this.
Did this mean they were split? After all this time? He’d thought they were together forever. They’d been the perfect partners. He’d handled the kitchen, Jeffery had handled the business end – it had been like a match made in heaven. They’d meshed.
Neither one of them could have done it alone. And they’d been successful.
But was this the price of success? Was this the end of it all?
Bren collapsed on the bed, burying his head in his hands. Why couldn’t they be back in Seattle. Back at the original Chez Watz and the upstairs apartment where they’d started.
Back where they’d been happy …
5:12 PM
“G’day, mate,” the visitor greeted Kuhn. “Is Tanya Mygent here. I b’lieve she’s expecting me?”
“Find Kun Tanya, kahp,” Kuhn wai’d. “You come in. Wait please?”
5:20 PM
“Why don’t you have Tahm show you some of Chiang Mai,” Joan suggested. “This seems to be a fascinating city, you really ought to get out and see some of it, you know? And Tahm is a nice young man. I really can’t think of a better way to see the city.”
“He is nice,” Sarah smiled shyly, then, “You don’t think he’s too young for me, do you?” She hadn’t realized – the night before – quite what the difference in their ages was; that he was nearly nine years younger. Not that it seemed important really but … well, there were people who would talk … and she didn’t like the idea of Tahm being called a ‘boy toy’ or gigilo.
“Don’t be silly,” Joan counseled. “If he doesn’t care and you don’t, why should anyone else? Good heavens, child, you see men carrying on with girls half their age every day. Well, I mean, it is sauce for the goose and all that, you know? And I do assume you were enjoying each other last night? Oh, dear,” she looked at the blushing girl, “shouldn’t I have mentioned that? I mean, you were both so obvious … and it’s really quite all right. I believe they’re very open-minded about that here. Not like when I was your age, you know? But then you do, don’t you. I mean, I’m sure your mother…”
“It’s not that,” Sarah interrupted hastily. “But Tahm has to get some sleep so he can get up and keep watch this evening. I can’t just drag him off, can I? I mean, he likes his job and…”
5:29 PM
“You know Kala Khrang Neung,” David asked. “Charoen Prathet Road?”
“Ah, very good place,” the tuk-tuk driver agreed. “I take, kahp?”
“How much?” Tanya stepped in. “Twenty baht?”
“Ah, make special price,” the driver produced a
card. “Two hundred baht, I drive you all evening. Show you many nice place, kahp?”
5:40 PM
“Mai, mai!” Mam laughed. “You not need do Tahm job! I tell Kun Tahm sleep late tomorrow, take evening off, ka? I tell take Kun Sarah, show her city, mai ka? I think Kun Tahm like Kun Sarah, ka? I think Kun Tahm young, not miss little sleep if with pretty girl, ka? If Tahm come back late, Kun Terry here, Mam here. Mai pen rhy, ka?”
6:10 PM
“Well,” Nolan looked around, “it seems we’re a smaller group this evening.” He paused awkwardly, regarding the group gathered on the lanai.
Both Tanya and Sarah were gone. Bren and Jeffery were carefully ignoring each other and, as a result, talking to no one. Greg was attentive; Bob was playing with his recovered camera, shooting footage of another stinger-boat on the river; Joan and Rosalyn were patiently attentive.
“Since we’ve spent the day at school,” Nolan resumed, “and there really hasn’t been a chance for any of us to go to the market – not that I figure anyone’s starving right now – so I’ve made arrangements to visit the Siam Theatre Restaurant this evening. But, I’d like to discuss tomorrow’s schedule.” He looked around again.
Three of those present – Bob, Rosalyn and Joan – were non-chefs, having joined the tour for other reasons. And Bren and Jeffery weren’t speaking – assertively not speaking to each other and passively not saying much to anyone else. Which left, since Tanya and Sarah were absent … a choice of Greg.
“Greg,” Nolan invited, “would you like to be tomorrow’s guest chef?”
“Hey,” Greg grinned. “Yeah, that’d be cool. You mean, like I get to tell other people what to do? In the kitchen, I mean? Yeah, sure,” he bobbed his head, laughing at his own enthusiasm, “not like I’ll have many chances like that, right? Not anytime soon, anyway. And I was reading about this stewed pork dish that sounds really great. Uh, if nobody objects …” he trailed off.
“Hey, go for it,” Bob looked up from his preoccupation. “If you’re as good at dinner as you were with breakfast … Oh, just remember, smile because …” he paused expectantly.
“Really, Bob,” Rosalyn chided him tolerantly. “I don’t think that Candid Camera’s still on. And it was long before Greg’s time anyway.”
“Huh? Yeah, I’ve seen that,” Greg agreed. “Right, there was this episode where they had a Canadian border crossing setup … somewhere in California? Nevada? Say, you aren’t setting something like that up?” Greg started looking around as if he were expecting another camera to suddenly appear.
“What are you talking about,” Bob’s forehead wrinkled.
“Well … everything’s been so weird … I mean …” Greg stopped suddenly, just short of blushing.
“Definitely,” Joan chuckled. “If I’d known what kind of adventures you had planned, Nolan, I’d have arranged a camera crew of my own.”
“For a exposé?” Nolan laughed. “Were you thinking of ‘Sixty Minutes’ or ‘Geraldo’?”
“I was thinking of a sit-com,” Joan confessed. “Like ‘Love Boat’ – a sustaining cast and weekly guest stars getting into trouble in different countries? Of course, we’d need a super-spy type in the cast – to get them out of jail or whatever. Like you did for Mr. Hollands? Kun Terry, I mean.”
“Sounds more like ‘Menu Impossible’,” Bob suggested. “This recipe will self-destruct in…”
Orchid Blossom Gallery, Chiang Mai, 6:55 PM
She would pay for dinner, Sarah had insisted. She was asking him out but he would have to pick the spot. And it should be some place interesting.
The Gallery was definitely interesting. Beginning as a Chinese Buddhist temple, the structure had been converted to an art gallery as well as a restaurant, with neither detracting from the ancient religious adornment. Sarah and Tahm had spent an hour or more – before being seated for dinner – just strolling and admiring the artworks, some offered for sale, others simply for display.
At one point, Tahm had rather shyly indicated a small ebony carving – perhaps ten inches tall – of a hill-tribe woman carrying two large baskets easily half her size suspended from the ends of a pole across her shoulders. The ebony statue did not bear a price tag.
“It is beautiful,” Sarah admired. “Very beautiful. Is it yours?”
Tahm nodded admission but didn’t comment.
Night Market near Orchid Blossom Gallery, 8:20 PM
“Not stay out late,” Tahm suggested. “Need keep watch tonight. And have something to fix this evening.” He hung a necklace of jasmine blossoms – purchased from a street vendor – around Sarah’s neck, then placed a second garland around his own.
“Can I help?” Sarah asked, inhaling the giddy sweet fragrance. “You can keep teaching me Thai, mai ka? While you’re working?”
“I teach, kahp,” Tahm grinned. “I be ahjahn, kahp? Then later you be ahjahn, kahp?”
“I don’t think,” Sarah linked arms with her escort, “there’s much more I can teach you. But we can practice, mai ka?”
“Kahp! We practice good. Now,” he led her through the night market, skirting noodle vendors and merchandisers, “you try pee seuuh. How do you say…?” He indicated the batik butterfly design in her scarf.
“Butterfly,” Sarah supplied. “You eat these?” she sounded doubtful.
“Not this butterfly, mai,” Tahm halted next to a large inverted-dome pan filled with oil, suspended over a propane burner. “This butterfly,” he gestured to indicate the bowtie-shaped pastries being quickly deep-fried. “Geen kow, kahp.”
The butterfly pastries were quickly pinched from a large bowl of dough, stretched into shape, dropped into the oil and then served hot accompanied by a small dish of light green custard.
Following Tahm’s example, Sarah dipped the pastry – which had a texture like a raised doughnut – into the custard, biting off the confection with no attempt to hide her pleasure at the combination.
“Aroy mak, ka!” she pronounced. “Aroy mak mak!” – Delicious very very.
Pratuu Dawkmy (Flower Gate) Theater, 8:35 PM
“Pretty fantastic,” Bob observed. “The dancers especially. You’d think those tall headpieces would fall off. I guess they’re tied on or something?”
The headpieces were elaborate gold and silver spires adding a foot or more to the height of the dancers. By themselves, the headpieces would have been garishly ornate. But, in combination with the intricately patterned costumes – mostly gold but combined with bright reds, greens and blues – they were merely accents.
Adding to the ornamentation, some of the dancers wore masks – also gold – and many carried weapons ranging from long knives to bows. Their movements were both graceful and stylized, combining strange rhythms and almost Olympic gymnastics.
“Thai mythology?” Joan whispered. “Demons and such? The ones that look kind of like monkeys?”
“Something like that,” Nolan agreed sotto-voice. “Spirits, gods and demons. I’m afraid that I don’t speak Thai well enough to follow it.”
“Like opera,” Rosalyn agreed. “Even if you do speak Italian – or French, depending on the opera – you may not be able to follow it unless you speak the language really, really well. And sometimes not even then.”
“Still it’s something to watch,” Gary admired. “And the food’s good too. The whole place is something else,” he looked around, taking in the maze of small islands connected by dozens of arched bridges and supporting small round, square or hexagonal pagoda roofs. The theatre proper was on one side; two levels with brick arches supporting the upper platform and wide stairs in the center and at each end. The activity was occurring on both and easily visible from the entire complex.
With dusk, thousands of tiny lights had come on, rings of lamps following the eaves of each open-sided roof. Larger lamps – floods – illuminated the stage.
The only closed structure in the complex was off to one side, a Chinese junk seemingly mired among the small islands but
connected by a long, wide, sloping gangplank. The kitchens proper were behind the junk, hidden from the island complex.
From where the party sat – under a hexagonal roof close to the stage – the property was a fairyland watched over by glittering, cavorting gods …
… and, equally, glittering, cavorting demons.
Loi Khraw Road Night Market, 9:07 PM
A permanent shop on the fringe of the market place had spilled out into the street with tables of goods brought outside. Elsewhere, other smaller vendors had tables or carts set up showing all kinds of wares. This one, however, was selling tools.
“Everything sell at dtalaht keun,” Tahm explained, then translated. “Night market. Everyone go night market, good place shop, meet friends, eat good, kahp.”
“Like the mall,” Sarah exclaimed. “It’s just like surfing the mall with friends.”
“Chahn mai kowjy, kahp,” Tahm shook his head. “Not understand mall. Not understand surf.”
“A mall? Well, it’s like this except its lots of shops in one big building. Like an enclosed street running down the middle but no cars, just people. You go there to see what’s happening, to shop, to get something to eat, to meet people – that’s surfing the mall. Like this,” she grinned. “Hey, you like tools, right?
“Kreuung meu, kahp? Tools good, kahp! Tools let Tahm make things, kahp!”
“Well, what about these,” Sarah indicated a tool set containing everything from screwdrivers to soldering irons to pliers, needle nose pliers and socket wrenches, all in a multidrawer plastic tool box.
“Very good tool, kahp. But pang mak mak – cost much money.” Tahm like tools very much, he thought, but very expensive. Tahm father offer grudging allowance but Tahm prefer not take – prefer earn own money but Baan Orchid not rich – tools too expensive.
“Mai pang,” the storekeeper appeared. “You want, I make good price. Missy like tool?”
“Missy like tool, ka” Sarah agreed. “But not like price!” she entered the fray.