Bali Bule Hunter

by Michael Powers

  “Softie?” Greg repeated as he tried to think of a clear definition. “It’s a guy who thinks with his heart instead of his brain.....at least some of the time.”

  “Softie,” Budi echoed. It didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Budi waved the napkin with the map like a fan. “Our next stop should be the boarding house. Maybe one of those moneyboys knows more about our missing bules. Wanna take a trip over there, my softie bule friend?”

  Shoving his chair away from the table, Greg stood and stretched. “Got another new vocabulary word you need to use three times?”

  Budi scowled. “Last time I share my secrets with you!”

  Patting Budi’s back, Greg apologized. “Maybe I’ll start using that repetition trick to remember Bali street names since they all sound the same to me.”

  Chapter 7

  The shabby boarding house was only a few blocks from the Kuta Sands Hotel. It stood in the middle of the block among retail shops, coffeehouses, and Net cafes. Like most of the other buildings in the neighborhood, it had a dirty white stucco exterior, and a red tile roof, heavily patched with aluminum sheets. Inside the front door was a blackboard with room numbers and names.

  Budi checked his napkin for the room number Anton jotted down, and found it on the blackboard. “Hey, the room belongs to Donny and Rial. Wonder if that’s your uncle’s friend, Donny?”

  “Could we be so lucky?” Greg murmured as he glanced down a dark, dirty hallway.

  A young tenant wearing a bright tank top and tight shorts came bouncing down a flight of stairs. As he approached, Budi pulled out the photo of Donny and flashed his friendliest smile. “Can you help me, please? Do you know where I can find him?”

  The tenant glanced at the picture, then smiled. “Ah, Donny.” He moved to the blackboard, then found the room with the names Donny and Rial next to it. “This room.” He scanned Greg from head to crotch. “Next time, visit my room?” he winked. “We make fun?”

  Budi and Greg nodded their thanks. As they mounted the stairs, Greg whispered, “He thinks we’re here for sex!”

  “Yup,” Budi nodded. “In case you missed it, he thinks you’re hot, so you probably qualify for the handsome bule discount.”

  “How much is that?” Greg wondered.

  Budi shrugged. “It varies, but I’m sure when he steals your wallet, he’ll leave you enough cash to catch a taxi home.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Greg chuckled. Grabbing a wobbly railing, it came loose from the wall, so Greg let go. Glancing around at the peeling wallpaper, naked lights, wooden stairs, and stacks of newspapers piled floor to ceiling, he had to agree with Ari. The place was a tinderbox. If all boarding houses were like this one, there were many more fires in Bali’s future. Passing an empty room with an open door, Greg peeked inside. It was a sixteen meter square box, with a sink, running water, toilet, overhead light, window, and two electrical outlets. No carpet, furniture, curtains, or air conditioning.

  “For this they pay five-hundred-thousand rupiahs a month?” Greg asked.

  “Nah, not for this one. Maybe three-hundred-thousand rupiahs. Good location, but not well maintained. Probably thirty dollars a month.”

  Greg tried to imagine himself living in the tiny space. Grateful for his modest two bedroom San Diego home, he promised never again to think of it as small. “Is this one of Dana’s buildings?” Greg asked.

  Budi nodded. “I saw his investment company’s logo on the front door.”

  “S’pose he’s ever been here, Budi?”

  “Not a chance! Dana’s got a high-rise office building in Jakarta full of managers who handle all his investments.”

  “Is it possible Dana’s mixed up with my uncle’s disappearance? I had the feeling he was hiding something. Wasn’t terribly helpful, was he?”

  Budi wrinkled his left cheek. “Dana’s interested in three things. Looking good, making money, and having sex. Everything else he leaves to subordinates. I can’t see how your uncle’s disappearance would benefit Dana.”

  “Just exploring all possibilities,” Greg reminded Budi.

  When they located Donny’s room, Budi rapped lightly on the door. They heard flip-flops shuffle across the bare wood floor. The chained door opened a crack, and Rial stood to one side, barely visible. Wearing only powder blue shorts, the skinny brown teen glared at his visitors, waiting for them to speak.

  “Is Donny here?” Budi asked.

  “Donny no here, Budi.”

  Budi smiled. “You must be Rial. How do you know me?”

  “I visit you salon. See you with famous client.”

  Rial unchained the door to get a better look at Budi.

  “Rial, this is my American friend, Greg.”

  Rial bowed slightly. “Welcome Bali.”

  Sensing Rial was scared, Budi was careful not to fuel his fear. “You know where Donny is or when he’ll be back?”

  Rial shook his head.

  “Can we come in and chat?” Budi asked pleasantly. “I feel awkward standing in the hallway.”

  Rial stood clear of the door while Budi and Greg entered, then closed and locked the door behind them. “It’s very important for us to see Donny,” Budi continued. “Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”

  “I no see Donny three day,” Rial confessed. “I very worrisome.”

  Budi pulled out Ted’s picture, then held it up for Rial. “Do you know this man?”

  Rial smiled. “Yes, Mr. Ted from California. Good man. Very rich. Buy much present for Donny.”

  “How long since you last saw Mr. Ted?” Greg asked politely, careful to appear casual.

  Rial studied the floor several moments, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “No see Mr. Ted many day. Donny go Four Season when Mr. Ted come Bali. Mr. Ted sick. Donny no can help Mr. Ted, but stay with him every day all time anyway. Donny no come back three day. I scare he sick, too.”

  Budi and Greg glanced at each other. “Rial, did Mr. Ted go to a hospital when he got sick?” Budi asked. “We’d like to visit him.”

  Rial shook his head slowly. “No hospital. Him heart no good.”

  Horrified, Greg blurted, “Ted had a heart attack?”

  “Maybe you go now?” Rial suggested as he reached to open the door.

  Budi grasped Rial’s skinny arm firmly, scanning the room for a place to sit. “Rial, can we sit and talk on your mattress? I want to help you, but first you must help me, okay?”

  Rial nodded, allowing Budi to guide him to the mattress. They both flopped down on the mattress, legs folding gracefully underneath them. Greg watched enviously, choosing the less elegant squat-and-roll method to position himself on the mattress.

  Facing Rial squarely, Budi forced the teen to meet his gaze. Greg noticed Rial did not shave regularly, if at all. His only body hair appeared to be coarse, shaggy black strands on his head. Deepset brown eyes towered over a small, squat nose, thick lips and buck teeth. Soaking wet, Rial weighed a hundred pounds even though he was nearly five-feet-nine. Skinny was the look Rial might achieve if added three Big Macs to his daily diet for a couple months. Coarse hair hid ears which stuck out like an SUV’s side mirrors. In the right light, he might pass for semi-attractive.

  “I don’t want to cause trouble for you, okay, Rial?” Budi assured him.

  “Yes, people say Budi good man.”

  Budi smiled at the compliment. “Tell me everything you know about Mr. Ted and Donny. Mr. Ted is Greg’s uncle. Greg is worried since he hasn’t heard from his uncle for a long time. Greg will be very happy if you can help him find Mr. Ted. We’ll keep you safe. Will you trust us, Rial?”

  Rial nodded.

  “Okay, tell me about Donny and Ted after they met on-line,” Budi coaxed Rial.

  “They meet maybe three months since Donny and me come Bali. We work hard help Yanto get money for Allah. Have the sex with old mens. Sleep morning and afternoon, then go Net cafe for chat with rich old bule all night. Donny send Mr. Ted message and Mr. Ted reply. Donny br
ing Ted pic to room so we both look at handsome, rich old bule. Him no fat or bald like other old mens. Donny very excited cuz Ted say him like Donny so much. They chat on-line every day. Send many e-mail. Ted send flower and chocolate bars and small money. Yanto say Donny must make Ted come Bali for meet in real. Donny beg Ted come Bali. Him cry on handphone, then Ted promise visit Bali. Donny so excited, even him know maybe Ted get little bit hurt by Yanto. Donny meet Ted plane. Them go hotel. Donny with Ted every minute. Donny let Yanto into room when Ted sleep and Yanto tie Ted with the rope. Yanto hit Ted. Try make Ted say bank number and secret word. Ted say no. Yanto ask him sign many paper. Ted say no. Spit on Yanto! Yanto hit Ted. Make Ted bleeding. When Yanto leave, Donny massage Ted. Give him water and little bit food. This happen many day. Donny tell housekeeping no clean room cuz Ted hire him for clean. Donny cry cuz he love Ted and no like Yanto beat him, but Yanto must have money for Allah. Donny beg Ted give Yanto what he want. Him think maybe sex make Ted more happier, but Ted say no sex cuz Donny too young boy for sex with old mens. Then Ted have chest pain. Breathe so loud! Yanto say Donny make Ted heart sick. Yanto beat Donny. Almost kill him! Tell Donny Allah punish bad boy.”

  Rial shook with fear, so Budi stroked his hair and shoulders to calm him. “Where did they take Ted? The hotel said he checked out, but left his luggage in the room.”

  Rial nodded as tears trickled down his cheeks, so Greg handed him a clean handkerchief to wipe his nose and eyes. “Yanto and two assistant go hotel with van. Pretend they medical mens. Carry Mr. Ted on stretcher.”

  “Where is Ted now?” Budi asked urgently.

  “If I tell, Yanto kill me!” Rial whispered emphatically. “I very fraid Yanto. He strong. I only young boy. No make Yanto angry about me. I have no money, no job without Yanto. You care for me when Yanto angry? Stop him to beat me? Give me money and job?”

  Budi and Greg exchanged nervous glances, then Budi grasped Rial’s hands in his own. “We can offer you something better. A visa to live and work in the U.S.”

  Rial’s large brown eyes widened. “Really?” Turning to Greg, Rial asked, “You rich bule?”

  Budi nodded furiously at Greg.

  In San Diego, Greg knew he wouldn’t be considered rich. On Bali, a man who owned his own home, and could afford airfare to cross the Pacific was considered quite rich. “Yes, I guess you can say I’m rich. I’ll do everything in my power to get you a visa.”

  Rial had been lied to by professionals, so trust did not come easily. “Show visa. Then I tell where is Ted. Visa for Donny, too, please.”

  Budi nodded his agreement. “I know a travel agent who guarantees visas in twenty-four hours. Rial, do you have a passport?”

  “No,” he replied glumly. “Too much cost. More than one million rupiah!”

  “All right, we’ll get passports, too. Visa’s useless without a passport. I need your birth certificate and national ID, and a couple of two-by-two pics. Do you and Donny have your important papers here?”

  Rial rose, crossed the room, opened a small box and removed a stack of papers bound with a rubber band. Returning to the mattress, he handed Budi birth certificates, national IDs, and some extra pics.

  “Are these real?” Budi asked as he inspected the documents.

  “No,” Rial grinned sheepishly. “Yanto buy these.”

  Budi shrugged. “They’re good fakes, so we’ll get visas and passports to match them.” Budi rose from the mattress and returned the documents to Rial. “You hang onto them for now. We won’t be coming back here, so gather anything you wanna take with you. Make sure you can fit everything in your backpack cuz that’s all you can take.”

  Rial raced around the tiny room, shoving things into his backpack. Remembering his neighbor had borrowed a portable CD player, he left the room to retrieve it.

  “Can you really get two visas and passports in one day from a travel agent?” Greg asked in a low voice as he rose from the mattress. An army of bugs he’d never seen in California were advancing on him, so Greg headed to the center of the tiny room.

  “Yup, and I guarantee they’ll fool Customs on both sides of the ocean! Visas and passports for two in twenty-four hours will cost two-thousand dollars. They’ll also need plane tickets. That’ll be another two-thousand.”

  Greg was visibly skeptical. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He was about to fork over four-thousand dollars to two guys he had known a matter of hours in exchange for information which might lead to his uncle. What if this was all just an elaborate scam? It was a steep price to pay, but he was determined to find his uncle. “I don’t have that much cash on me, but I can get it at the hotel. Budi, what if Rial is lying? What if he really doesn’t know where Ted is?”

  “We give him the visas, but hang onto the passports and tickets until he shows us where Ted is. We won’t let him out of our sight in the meantime. If Yanto discovers Rial is helping us, he probably will kill him. As for the cash, let’s settle up after this is all over. I’ll pay the travel agent and you can pay me later.”

  Greg was both surprised and impressed. If Budi was risking his own money, it couldn’t be a scam. Or it might be a clever ploy to gain trust, then tap Greg for an even larger amount later. Greg decided not to let his guard down completely.

  “While you two are at the travel agency, I’ll pay a visit to the U.S. Consulate,” Greg decided. “I’ll let them know I’m looking for Ted and see what kind of assistance they can provide.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” Budi warned. “Both our governments move slowly. Finding rich old gays is a low priority for them. I think the only thing lower is helping young Chinese Christian fags!”

  Relieved they were closer to finding Ted, Greg sighed heavily. “Thank God we’re not dealing with a serial killer. I was getting plenty worried!”

  “Following up on that gossip led us here, so it all worked out,” Budi reminded Greg.

  Rial entered the room again, shoved a few more items into his backpack, then stood by the door. “Ready for States.”

  Greg’s heart melted at the sight of Rial, hunched over from the weight of a backpack carrying all his worldly possessions. How could such an innocent, skinny boy hurt anyone?

  “Great, Rial!” Budi cried. “You come with me to the travel agency. Greg, maybe you can catch a taxi downstairs. Should we meet back at your hotel in a couple hours and have dinner together?”

  “Good plan,” Greg agreed. “Call my cell phone if anything unexpected comes up.”

  “You do the same. My home address and phone are on the back of the business card I gave you earlier. My handphone is on the front.”

  Watching Budi speed away on his motorbike, Greg wondered if he had many accidents. As Greg glanced around for a taxi, he spotted the silver Toyota parked a half block away. He considered asking the Toyota for a ride since they’d be going to the same place anyway. Just then, a taxi stopped in front of the boarding house and Greg jumped in.

  Chapter 8

  The U.S. Consulate building disappointed Greg. It was a plain looking residence, indistinguishable from the surrounding homes. There was no American flag waving proudly out front. Greg assumed the State Department adopted a lower profile after the terrorist bombings in 2002 and 2005. Still, if he and the taxi driver could find the consulate, terrorists would likely be able to locate it. Hiding the Stars and Stripes seemed shameful to Greg.

  Presenting his passport at the front desk, Greg asked to see someone regarding a missing person. After waiting a few minutes in the lobby, he was ushered into a spacious office. A plump American in a gray business suit rose to greet Greg and shake his hand. “I’m Sam Parsons, Deputy Principal Officer. What can I do for you, sir?”

  Greg couldn’t help but compare Sam’s ample torso with Rial’s sparse frame, wondering when Sam last missed a meal. “I’m Greg Simmons from San Diego and I’m here looking for my uncle. He arrived on Bali a couple weeks ago, checked into the Four Seasons Hotel, then checked out by phone a few day
s later, but left his luggage behind. He didn’t return to his home in LA, and no one has seen or heard from him since he left the Four Seasons. When he didn’t answer his cell phone or return messages, I worried he was sick or in trouble, so I flew here to look for him. My uncle is gay, wealthy, a U.S. citizen in his sixties, and came here to meet a young man he met on a dating website. I’ve got copies of e-mails they exchanged and pictures of them both.”

  Impressed with Greg’s concise summary, Sam cleared his throat as he nodded, jowls bouncing freely. “What have you done to locate your uncle so far?”

  “I just arrived a few days ago. A friend is showing me around the island. So far, I’ve visited the most popular gay spots; a couple bars and restaurants, a gym, and popular beach areas, but no sign of my uncle or his friend. Local people tell me there are only a few gay clubs, so I’m running out of places to look. I met a young Indonesian who has offered to take me to my uncle for a fee. I’ve agreed, but I’m skeptical. He doesn’t get full payment until his information pans out. If it turns out to be a scam, I can still check hospitals, clinics, the airlines, and other luxury hotels.”

  Sam gazed blankly at Greg. “What would you like the consulate to do?”

  “I don’t expect you to send out a search party,” Greg chuckled, “but I’d like some advice. How do you think I should proceed? One of my friends back home urged me to file a missing person report with the Bali police, but local people seem to think that’s a waste of time.”

  Sam shrugged. “It might be a waste of time, but you should still file a report, then ask them to send us a copy. Better yet, make several copies, then drop one off here since they might forget. Should you wish to declare your uncle dead or file a claim against his estate, a missing person report will be required to start the clock running on his disappearance.”

  “Is that why you think I’m here?” Greg scoffed. “So I can get my hands on my uncle’s money?”

  “Not at all,” Sam assured Greg in his most soothing voice. “I was thinking a few steps ahead. What I should have emphasized is that it’s not a waste of time as your friends have suggested.”