by Ben Ezzell
Five minutes later – and at a price a third less than had been asked – Sarah produced her credit card.
“Why you want tool?” Tahm asked, carrying the heavy case as they left the shop.
“Not want for me,” Sarah shook her head. “For you. Tahm boon, ka? You give me puppet, I give you tool, ka?”
Tahm was very quiet for several minutes after that. And, when he did speak, it was to suggest a cold drink: “Pepsi, nahm kaang, kahp?” – literally ‘hard water’, meaning ice.
Pratuu Dawkmy (Flower Gate) Theater, 10:23 PM
“Well, if I’m the duty chef tomorrow,” Gary suggested, grinning, “maybe I’d better get some sleep tonight. Uh, you’ll give me a hand at the market tomorrow?”
“Mai pen rhy, kahp,” Nolan returned the grin.
“And this time,” Bob interjected, “I’ll tape everything. Right?”
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Nineteen:
Chapter Nineteen:
Baan Orchid, Thursday, February 8th, 10:36 PM
“How did you enjoy Chiang Mai,” Terry greeted Sarah’s return. “Have a good time?”
“Uh, I thought we were,” Sarah admitted. “Look, could I ask you something? In private?”
Baan Orchid, 10:44 PM
“So,” Sarah concluded her explanation, “what I want to know is if I offended him. I didn’t mean to and I really thought he’d like them. But if I did something wrong …” she stopped, seeing Terry’s smile.
“No,” Terry assured her, “I don’t think you offended him. The reason he didn’t say ‘thank you’ is simple. It isn’t polite to thank someone for a gift. No, I think he’s likely to sleep with those tools.”
“Oh, I hope not … I mean … Ah, then it’s like when you give money to someone who’s begging? Or blind?”
“Tahm boon,” Terry nodded. “You’re doing it for your reasons – for your benefit. It would be ungracious to thank someone. But I image you’ve made him very happy. Which was your intention? I mean, ja, I can’t think of any gift that Tahm would appreciate more.”
“Ka,” Sarah agreed, relieved. “Uh, can I thank you? I mean, I do but you won’t mind if I say so?”
Bar near Baan Orchid, 10:57PM
“Uh, brandy, please,” Jeffery asked.
“Mai kowjy ‘brandy’, krahp,” the bartender responded politely.
“Couvosier, please,” Jeffery peered at the shelf behind the bar.
“Cognac, mai krahp?” the man reached for the bottle. “You want nahm kaang, krahp? On rocks?”
“No! Mai ow!” Jeffery replied hastily – definitely not ‘on rocks’.
He accepted the drink, wrapping the glass in both hands to warm the amber fluid and release the fragrant vapors. It was only Couvosier but – what was the expression? Any port in a storm? Or any brandy in a storm?
In any case, Jeffery sipped the beverage slowly, wishing that Bren were there and feeling horribly empty at his absence.
Why? Why did Bren have to be such an ass?
And why did he have to miss the man so much?
Baan Orchid, 11:13 PM
“This digital camera,” Tahm explained, using the soldering iron from the new tool set. “Old camera, buy very cheap. Still pang mak mak but Kun Joan pay for all camera. New camera much better, cost much. Old camera good for what Tahm want.”
“And this?” Sarah held a small device with a short tube protruding.
“Say when someone move,” Tahm suggested. “Not know how say English. Take from plastic frog. Put in garden. Frog make sound when someone move, kahp?”
“A motion sensor?”
“Kahp! Tahm make sensor connect to camera. Take picture when move. Camera very slow, only take two, three picture in minute. No, not right. Take picture fast but slow to keep picture. Then, if still move, take picture again. Camera hold two hundred picture. Can send picture to computer but not have computer to see picture. Instead, see picture on back of camera, kahp?”
The back of each of the small cameras – not much larger than a cigarette package – was a small liquid crystal screen. Experimenting, Sarah took pictures of Tahm working, looking at the images displayed on the tiny glass screen. Each time she pressed the shutter button, there was a delay – fifteen or twenty seconds – before another picture could be taken.
Then – Sarah performed a simple mental calculation – if the camera was triggered continuously, it would take something over an hour to record two hundred images.
Sarah looked at Tahm with renewed respect.
Friday, February 9th, 1:20 AM
“Oh, hi!” Jeffery was standing outside the screened door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Mai pen rhy, kahp. You not sleep?” Tahm laid his tools aside and stood.
“Yeah, just restless, I guess,” Jeffery shrugged.
“Because of Bren?” Sarah asked softly. “You and he had a fight?”
“Something like that,” Jeffery admitted. “And then he didn’t come in last night. And I don’t know where he is tonight either.”
“Kun Bren …” Tahm stopped abruptly.
“What happened?” Sarah asked. “I mean, maybe it would help to talk about it? Maybe over coffee?”
“Yeah, maybe so,” Jeffery agreed hesitantly.
1:36 AM
“We went to a place called the Iron Butterfly,” Jeffery wrapped his hands around the cup of coffee Sarah had prepared … and had laced liberally with brandy. The three of them were seated around a table in the kitchen.
“It’s … well, it’s the kind of bar …” Jeffery spoke softly, then trailed off into silence.
“Gatuhee, kahp?” Tahm suggested. “Boy bar, kahp?”
“Yeah, a boy bar,” Jeffery agreed. “Maybe I was just tired. I don’t know. But I got jealous. Bren … well, he was dancing with a lot of guys. Young guys. And I said something and then he said something. Anyway, I got mad or he got mad or whatever and I walked out and came back here. No, that’s not right. I went someplace and had another drink, then I came home. I was hoping Bren would be here. But he wasn’t … and then he didn’t come home all night. And now he’s not here tonight. I don’t know if this will make sense to you but I do love him. We’ve been partners for a long time and … and lovers too, of course. It … I guess it just hurts. Sorry, it’s not your problem …” he stared silently into the mug.
Tahm rose and laid a hand on Sarah’s arm before quietly leaving the kitchen.
“And that’s why you weren’t speaking all day?”
Jeffery nodded. “Pretty stupid, right? I mean … we always said there were no strings attached. That we were always free to … to see anyone we wanted. It’s just …”
“So you had an argument,” Sarah recapped. “Was it important?”
“No,” Jeffery admitted. “It was just stupid. I … I wish …”
“You wish you could tell him so?”
“Something like that,” Jeffery nodded. “Or just tell him … that I love him. That it doesn’t matter. Something …”
Tahm stepped back inside, quietly closing the screen door behind him before sitting down across from Jeffery. “Kun Bren not out last night,” Tahm spoke. “Kun Bren come back early. Before you come in. Ask if another room. Say you angry, he sleep downstairs – in back, behind kitchen. I clean room for Kun Bren, make comfortable bed.”
“You mean … you mean he’s here? He’s okay?” Jeffery looked up, a flicker of hope crossing his face.
“Kahp,” Tahm agreed.
“I shouldn’t disturb him,” Jeffery decided softly. “But … thank you. I … I feel better. Maybe … maybe, in the morning, I can tell him …”
“Jeff?” Bren barely whispered, pulling the screen open and stepping inside. “You could tell me now … If you want to …” He stood, hesitating, his back against the door as if he were about to bolt and run.
1:58 AM
“Now,” Tahm smiled, watching the two men vanish into the other h
ouse, “we hide four camera where watch all door. If kamoy come, have picture, kahp?”
“In the dark?” Sarah queried.
“Mai!” Tahm corrected. “Leave light on all night. Always leave light on anyway. Plenty light for picture, kahp?”
“Ka!” Sarah agreed, understanding. “Then you wake Kun Kuhn, mai ka?”
“Kahp.”
“Good, then – after you wake Kun Kuhn – you can come to bed,” she took his arm. “We practice something else, ka?”
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Twenty:
Chapter Twenty:
Baan Orchid, Friday, February 9th, 2:42 AM
“Kun Kuhn, krahp? You are here?” Baw’s voice was pitched soft from the darkness outside.
“Kahp, am here,” Kuhn agreed.
“Everyone asleep?”
“If you not wake them. What we do now? You have loud farahng here?”
“Mai,” Baw disagreed. “Tell farahng not come. Tell him not come – too noisy, krahp. Bring help and boat instead. You get things and put in boat, then we come back, load tuu sehf in sampan, take up river to truck, karhp.” tuu sehf – safe
“Not easy. Very heavy. Not want to wake people, mai kahp!”
“Not wake people, karhp! Have plenty help! Be quiet very very. Come now, we do this, then leave, mai karhp?”
“Kahp! Not want stay here! Too much work!”
2:58 AM
Down the bank, along the river, the sampan was pulled close to shore. The sampan was wider than the long stinger boat which Nolan, Bren and Jeffery had been watching a few days before but was equally a shallow draft craft. Next to the boat, four figures were dimly visible in the darkness; two of them holding ropes keeping the craft steady against the bank.
Baw stopped by the boat for a moment, waiting while Kuhn stowed his few belongings, then pulled a worn gym bag and a soft bulky bundle from the craft, handing both to one of the waiting men. Turning back, Baw gestured at the group with a come-along motion, before climbing the crude steps in the bank, rising to the flat lawn.
Back on higher ground again, Baw gestured to wait while he crossed to the lanai.
There, leaning across the railing, Baw produced two garlands of jasmine blossoms, hanging one from each of the peaked phoenix-winged roof gables before adding an orange and a chocolate candy bar to the supporting platform.
Problem before all because stupid farang not leave offering. This time Baw make special offering for spirit. Make all spirit happy, not cause more problem this time.
3:10 AM
“Quiet!” Baw hissed. “Move desk but make no noise.” He joined the three others, moving the desk gently across the room, placing it against the inner wall.
With the floor cleared, the safe resting in the corner was exposed. Perhaps two feet in each dimension, the beige-painted cube rested on four wheels, small in diameter but as wide as they were thick. The gap between the bottom of the safe and the floor was roughly three inches.
Kneeling next to the safe to examine the situation, Baw nodded, satisfied before reaching for the bundle brought from the sampan. Untied, the bundle became a worn, quilted blanket of nondescript color.
“Now,” Baw instructed, spreading the colorless mat and bunching it up against the front wheels on the safe. “put poles under safe.” He remained kneeling to guide the heavy poles into position. “You,” he indicated one of the men, “and you,” he nodded at Kuhn, “lift poles. Hold front off floor, kahp.”
As the two men lifted the poles, bringing the front of the safe off the floor, Baw pushed the worn mat under the wheels, spreading the fabric across the floor and bunching it against the rear wheels.
“Dee mak, krahp,” Baw nodded, gesturing for the poles to be lowered, easing the safe back to the floor.
Next, the poles were moved to the side and the same operation repeated, allow Baw to slide the quilted material under one of the rear corners.
With three of the small wheels padded, the poles were used to lever the safe slowly away from the corner until the fourth wheel could be raised and the mat spread further.
Sitting back on his heels, Baw nodded, allowing himself a deep breath of satisfaction.
A few minutes later, with two of the men behind the safe, the heavy container was pushed further toward the center of the room where Baw could kneel and fit the two poles under the safe, allowing them to extend from both front and rear.
Gesturing for the gym bag he had carried in from the boat, Baw produced four lengths of nylon rope, using them to lash the poles to each of the wheels. This done, two worn but serviceable cargo straps were added, lashing the safe more firmly to the poles – or vice versa.
Last, Baw produced four more heavy straps with loops in each end. Two of these were fitted to the poles fore and aft before Baw stood. Silently, he gestured at the four waiting men, indicating that they should step between the poles, then fit the straps across their shoulders and lift.
The expressions and stances of the four men turned beast of burden told all – they were able to support the load but hardly comfortably.
Gesturing both encouragement and silence, Baw led the way toward the front door, holding the door open with one hand and making ‘come along’ gestures with his free hand.
Behind him, the four men and the safe made a slow and awkward conga line as they progressed across the hardwood floor, each of the men stepping carefully in bare feet. Speed was not an option.
3:19 AM
Outside, on the porch, there was a pause to retrieve the sandals left behind some minutes before. It was also the first evidence of less than through planning on Baw’s part. Unable to step into their shoes as Thais normally would, the carriers had to relieve themselves of the weight first, then resume their burden before continuing their progress.
Crossing the lawn, progress wasn’t much faster and Baw cautioned silence twice; once when one of the burdened men stumbled over a flagstone and a second time when a bat, chasing insects, flew too close to the leader.
Reaching the bank – and the crude steps down to the river – what had been slow, burdensome progress suddenly became no progress at all. Where four men – two in front and two behind – standing between the poles were able to support the weight on level ground, the crude steps presented an obstacle every bit as effective as a barred gate.
“Can’t carry whole thing,” one of the men complained softly. “Not room enough.”
“Quiet,” Baw cautioned, thinking quickly. “Set down here. Then you two, in front, turn around and lift. Carry backwards … that right … lift higher … easy now,” he tried to keep his voice from carrying while still issuing directions.
Following Baw’s directions, the two in front reversed position, gripping the poles directly and backing down the steps, holding their end higher while the two in back bent their knees, trying to keep the awkward load level.
For a few steps, it worked. And it might have worked further had the steps been stronger – such as poured cement or even heavy, framed wood. Except the facts were that these steps were carved from the bank, angling to cross the slope of the bank and held in rough shape by light boards – salvaged from scrap – anchored in place by crude stakes driven deeper in the bank. When the heavy rains flooded the river, the steps would wash away and be rebuilt again … just as the lower steps had been not many months past.
And it was one of the lower steps which gave way, suddenly and unexpectedly. The soft ground which had been secure enough to hold an individual gave way under the weight of an individual whose weight was doubled or tripled by their share of a heavy safe … and gave way catastrophically.
Along with the steps, silence was also broken. Loudly.
3:22 AM
“What the hell,” Bren nudged Jeffery. “Hey, did you hear …”
“Someone’s hurt,” Jeffery sat up, abruptly awake, reaching for his pants. “Come on!”
3:22 AM
In another room, Tahm tried to un
tangle himself without waking Sarah – an attempt which was no more successful than the journey down the steps along the river had been.
“Go on,” Sarah pushed him, “I’ll be right behind you.”
3:24 AM
Downstairs, Tahm didn’t worry about sandals or a flashlight but took the rear door through the kitchen, racing across the lawn toward the confused mixture of barked orders, cries of pain and the sudden sputtering of a sampan engine being started.
Behind him, lights were flashing on in both houses, excited voices – more in English than in Thai – carrying easily though the still night air.
Reaching the bank overlooking the river, Tahm could see the sampan as an outline – dark against the lighter water – and a confusion of figures. ‘Kamoy’ was Tahm’s first, silent reaction as he launched himself down the bank, ignoring the steps and landing in a sprung crouch on the soft ground by the water. Recovering smoothly, Tahm moved toward the closest of the shadowed forms, unleashing a snap kick to the torso.
The impact was solid, sending a half-familiar / half-forgotten jar back through Tahm’s leg and, reflexively, causing Tahm to whirl to the side before sending a second punch following the first. The second, however, failed to connect for the simple reason that his target, unprepared and already unbalanced, was falling backwards toward the river, landing with a heavy, noisy splash, half in mud and half in water.
Beyond, the sampan was already pulling away from the bank with vague figures scrambling over the sides, the operator visible as an upright silhouette in the stern.
As Tahm recovered from the spent momentum of his failed kick, another figure appeared above the bank, making a descent less elegant than Tahm’s – more sliding than jumping – but still arriving in position to launch a flying tackle toward one of the waist-deep fleeing figures.
The two colliding figures disappeared below the surface from the force of the impact, sending wild gouts of river washing over the escaping sampan.
In the darkness, only half lit by street and yard lights across the river as well as a scattered glow from the two houses above, a fifth figure was vaguely visible, partially pinned by a two-foot beige cube.