by Mark Green
She stood up and hoisted the backpack onto the corner of the bed, emptying the contents onto her side. She scanned the meagre offerings, hands on hips, cursing the loss of Liz’s clothes.
• • •
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‘Strolling across the bridge, meandering in the night, heading downtown towards the sparkling gold-chain-like light. The illumination dangling in trees and beneath ornate poles, like a frozen waterfall, raising smiles and stirring our souls. A slower and relaxed mood here after the sun has set, so why do I sense underlying tension from a predatorily dual-nationality threat?’
Charlie glared at Barry. He turned to face Maddie. ‘It’s almost like we’re moving from an era of black and white to full blown Technicolor, all in one short walk across the bridge,’ he said, trying to catch her eye.
‘A bridge-of-bullshit too far,’ Barry called out.
Charlie rolled his eyes, watching Maddie’s reaction. She turned to look at Barry, hesitated, then nodded, slowing her walk to take in the lights and colours. ‘Just as bright as Bangkok but minus its manic flashiness. Subtle by comparison,’ Maddie murmured, glancing away as she noticed Charlie’s scrutiny.
‘See, I knew you’d get into my red snapper theory.’ Barry crouched nearby, camera poised, squeezing the shutter, capturing another shot.
The group left the single file pavement behind, able to spread out in the quiet side street. Maddie glanced over her shoulder, flicked her eyes past Jody, pausing briefly on Barry, his camera pressed to his cheek as he reeled off more murmured descriptions. Jody glared at her, encouraging Maddie to hastily look away.
‘Oh wow, check out the Buddha bling!’ shouted Barry. He ran down the dim road past the group, heading towards a vibrant glow on the opposite side of the street, his flip-flops resonating on the concrete. Clack-clack, clack-clack, clack-clack …
Hundreds of red and gold lampshades hung from under the shop’s canopy, extending out from the shopfront over the pavement. Rows of different sized pointed-hat gold Buddhas stood to attention in one corner, surrounded by neat stacks of colourful boxes of sweets, treats and knick-knacks, all bathed in slightly different shades of harsh white fluorescent lighting.
Victoria stared at Barry, dancing beneath the canopy’s red, gold and amber sheen. ‘Is he okay?’
‘He gets a bit hyper sometimes,’ Jody replied, watching Barry spin and pump his hands in the air, holding his camera high above his head.
‘That looks like some good stuff he’s been smoking.’
‘Yeah … actually, he says it calms him down.’
‘Really?’
Jody nodded, watching Barry strike a matador posture: hips back, chest puffed out, hands held out at an angle, his hands grasping an imaginary cape which he swooshed and twirled in front of the group. Jody jogged up to Barry’s side, cupped her hand and whispered in his ear. He sniggered, relaxed his stance and flung his arms out, hugging her.
‘That’s what you get from a nation of convicts.’
Maddie turned from studying Barry towards Charlie, who had his arms folded on his chest, his chin held up, defiantly. ‘Looks like he’s having fun,’ she remarked.
‘He’s making a dick of himself,’ Charlie snorted. He stretched his hands out, cracking his knuckles.
‘Ooh, don’t … sends shivers up my spine,’ said Victoria, slipping her hand over Charlie’s fingers. He flinched, glanced apologetically at Maddie and tried to pull back from Victoria, but she slipped her arm around his waist. ‘It’s okay, he doesn’t like you either,’ she said playfully.
‘Who?’
‘The Aussie.’
‘Oh, I don’t doubt that.’ Charlie eased away from her.
‘Is anyone eating straightaway?’ asked Maddie, scanning the edge of a collection of market stalls. ‘I might just do a bit of clothes shopping first—’
‘Love those red-hot chillies!’ yelled Barry. Pulling Jody with him, he dashed away from the illuminated shopfront, leading her towards the food stalls.
• • •
Maddie lay on the double bed, staring up at the ceiling. Beside her, Victoria twitched, turning over to face her, snoring lightly, venting spicy beer fumes and muttering snippets of incomprehensible sentences. Maddie twitched her nose, stifled a sneeze and rolled over, shuffling away from her room-mate towards the edge of the bed.
She scrunched her eyes shut, willing sleep to come, again asking herself the perpetual, unanswerable question.
What the hell am I doing here …?
• • •
‘Cambodia, are you ready?!’ Barry yelled out of the window, his words muffled, buffeted by the airstream rushing past the speeding minibus. He let out a screeching ‘Woo-hoo!’ then pulled his head back inside, running both hands through his scalp, taming his wild hairstyle. The driver glanced over his shoulder and shot Barry a nicotine-stained toothy grin.
‘Hey sweetie, you gonna try and calm it down a bit?’
Barry turned to grin at Jody. He reached up to cradle her head in his hands, pulling her close for a long, firm kiss. ‘I’m the king of the jungle, baby.’
‘I know … how about taking some photos, balance things out.’
‘Sure thing.’ Barry unzipped his camera case, deliberating over his selection of lenses.
‘How are you this morning?’ said a soft Irish voice beside Maddie. She turned away from staring out of the window towards a lady in her late sixties with glasses, a pale complexion and wearing camping-store travel clothes.
‘I’m well, thank you. Sorry, I don’t think we’ve properly met. I was a bit distracted, yesterday.’
‘Understandably, from what I gather. I’m Rose. Lively crowd we’re travelling with.
Nice mix of age and personalities.’
‘Yes. I haven’t had a chance to get to know many of them yet, but I’ve been made very welcome.’
‘Exciting for you, taking off on your own. Such a courageous decision.’
‘Mmm … thanks. I still have my doubts, but—’
‘You’re still here.’
‘Guess so. Are you going over the border?’
‘Only as far as Siem Reap. I’m not on a big trip, like some of the others.’
‘Oh, what’s happening there?’
‘Aside from the temples at Angkor Wat – which I’m told are quite magical – I’m doing a stint volunteering at the children’s hospital.’
‘You’re a doctor?’
‘I was, I retired a few years ago. My kids are off doing their own thing. Husband left me last year – for a girl two years older than my youngest daughter. I needed a distraction.’
‘Wow. Sounds like you’re the courageous one.’
Rose shook her head softly, her gaze drifting away from Maddie. ‘No, just pragmatic. My home life was …’ Rose hesitated, scrunching up her face behind her glasses. ‘I suppose the best description is stagnant.’ She looked back at Maddie, half-shrugged, then shifted her glazed, faraway expression back to the window.
Maddie studied her for a moment, then checked herself and sat back in her seat, busying herself with reading her book.
At the back of the minibus, Barry edged forwards. ‘Hey man, do you mind if I take your photo?’
The man in front to Barry’s left twisted his torso around. ‘Me? You’ll break the lens,’ he said, draping a muscular tanned arm over the seat back.
‘No chance. Don’t get spooked – when I take a picture I normally record twenty seconds of—’
‘I know, heard you yesterday. Ever been slapped?’
Barry grinned, swept his eyes around the bus. ‘Always a first time. You a former boxer?’
‘Yeah, few years ago. That obvious?’
‘Shall we see …?’ Barry eased back, lifted the camera to his face and clicked the shutter, holding it down.
Shh-clitch.
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‘Worldly-wise streetfighter, a nomadic Buddhist blighter. He seeks enlightenment an
d travel karma, without twelve rounds of punch-drunk drama. Wise beyond his years on this planet, he’s lived a life on his wits thanks to a chin made out of granite. Avoiding the pursuit of material wealth, this hustling honey-magnet has held onto his mental health. A brawler in his teens and twenties, nowadays a gooey charisma fondue, watching the pennies. The coolest dude I’ve met so far, beers are on me while we chew the fat in the next bar.’
Barry lowered his camera.
‘That’s it?’ said the man in a neutral tone, maintaining a steely gaze, nothing in his expression hinting at any kind of emotional response.
‘That’s my twenty seconds of gibberish and your nanosecond of celluloid immortality. Pretty painless, eh? Name’s Barry.’ He offered his hand and cheek-dimpled, crooked smile.
‘Sandy.’
‘Nickname or by birth?’
‘Does it matter?’
Victoria swivelled around in her seat next to Sandy, a flicker of amusement on her lips.
‘Nope, but I’ll bet there’s a long and exciting story there, either way,’ said Barry.
Sandy’s rugged face creased into a deeply rutted, missing-tooth grin. ‘It’s a double-digit grog story, young ’un.’
‘You’re on.’ Barry released Sandy’s hand, turning his attention to Victoria. ‘Mind if I take your photo, with the old bruiser?’
‘You don’t want me on my own?’
Barry smirked and shook his head. ‘No offence, but you’re more interesting to me as a couple. For the contrast.’
‘Oh.’
Barry lifted his camera and fiddled with the settings. Jody unplugged her earphones, and leaned forwards, addressing Victoria. ‘Don’t take any of his bullshit to heart, it’s his creative up his own arse-tistic side.’
‘Right.’
‘Yeah, I don’t see the world like other people.’ Barry flicked his eyes between Victoria and Sandy. ‘Try facing each other so I’ve got you both in profile. Yup, that’s great. A bit closer … fantastic. Now imagine you’ve just woken up and just laid sober eyes on last night’s drunken shag.’
Shh-clitch.
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‘Bazza’s fantasy snapshots, designed to encourage laughter, so here’s a pair of mismatched travellers looking sheepish, the morning after. No need for my normal spiel of verbal crap, congrats Sandy and Victoria for this post-coital snap. Beauty and the beast, on a bus in Cambodia, heading east. But that description ain’t quite right, now it’s getting light. Booty and the priest, more like, take a closer look Sandy – you ended up scoring the village trike.’
Barry sniggered, yanking the camera away sharply. Victoria swung her open palm, narrowly missing snatching his hand. Barry shielded the screen, whooping with laughter at the image. ‘Yeah – rock n’ roll!’
‘Cheeky bastard! Let me see …’ Victoria knelt up on her seat, reaching for the camera. Jody jabbed Barry in the ribs and wrapped her fingers around his hands, rotating the camera’s screen towards Victoria, who stared at the photograph, tight-lipped. She glared at Barry, then turned to Sandy, her head slanted slightly to one side, an eyebrow arched. ‘You look pleasantly surprised, and I’m not as appalled as I should be, having scored me a coffin dodger. Maybe we should, you know … consider hooking up.’
Sandy held Victoria’s gaze, his poker face unyielding. Barry stopped laughing. He stared at Victoria, open mouthed, alternating his stare between her and Sandy. Victoria searched Sandy’s eyes, his gaze trance-like.
‘You’re kidding …?’ Barry murmured.
Victoria slowly shook her head. She edged towards Sandy, lowering her chin to move in for a kiss … turning away sharply just before their lips touched to lurch over the backrest, scrunching her knuckles into Barry’s tee-shirt at the neckline, forcing him back into the vinyl seat, her nose inches from his. ‘Bet you wish you had that picture, eh, you uncouth fuckwit-wallaby-wanker.’
The minibus trundled on, only the driver’s tinny music audible. All attention on board focused intently on the back seat. Barry finally broke the silence, sniggering at Victoria’s clenched-jaw death stare. He licked his lips and winked at her. ‘Fuck me, Vicky, you nearly had me – that’s Oscar-worthy!’ He inched forwards, his nose almost touching hers, lips twitching into a lopsided grin. ‘You ever been in show business? Appeared in any adult movies …?’
Victoria pulled back from Barry. ‘You’ll never know, arsehole.’ She shot Sandy a maybe next time pout as she turned to face forwards.
Sandy caught Barry’s eye, raised half an eyebrow then sat back with amusement twitching across his furrowed jowls, leaving Barry sniggering behind him like Muttley from the Wacky Races cartoon series.
Fourteen
‘These border crossings are notorious.’
Maddie looked up from her book and glanced across at the source of the comment, a woman in her late forties. She had faded thin ribbons braided into her curly brown shoulder-length hair, and wore sandals with a wraparound printed floral skirt beneath a well-travelled ivory cotton shirt.
‘Notorious for what … drugs?’ replied a Chinese girl who sat between Maddie and the woman. She wore a plain white sleeveless blouse, the fabric cut high enough to show a grey tattoo of a wispy dandelion on her shoulder, its stalk flexing as if reacting to a gentle breeze. An inscription in elegant, swooping black font followed the contour above the stalk. On the top right of the fluffy flower, a quarter of the seeds had dissipated, inked floating randomly away.
‘Corrupt officials and a cartel of tuk-tuk drivers scamming the tourists, demanding extortionate fares. Fortunately we’re heading south, to Pailin. It should be relatively painless. I came through in ’89 … very different back then.’
‘Is there a reason you’ve come back now?’ said Maddie.
‘Yes. Why after so long?’ asked the Chinese girl.
‘The best and worst motivation in the world …’
‘For love?’
‘For a first love.’
The Chinese girl nodded, her gaze drawn across the row of seats to Maddie, who dropped her eyes back to her book, aware of the rush of blood reddening her skin. ‘I am Kao,’ she said, pressing her palms together in a prayer greeting.
‘I’m Maddie. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop on your conversation.’
‘Hey, not at all,’ said the older woman. ‘I’m Gabby.’
Maddie lowered her book and shook both their hands, maintaining eye contact. ‘You may have gathered from my slightly … um, hurried entrance yesterday that I’m travelling just to see if I can. If it’s not too rude to ask, what about you two?’
Gabby sat back and ran her fingers through her long hair, smiling at a secret memory. She lowered her eyes, prompting Kao to go first. Kao leaned forwards, flicked her eyes around the minibus, then whispered ‘I broke up with boyfriend. My parents send me away, to discover my new heart. I am practising English and repairing.’
Maddie nodded then shook her head with admiration. She switched her gaze to Gabby.
‘Same-same, right …?’ Gabby shrugged, withdrawing a silver inscribed tobacco tin from her shoulder bag. She opened it and began preparing a roll-up. ‘Twenty-seven years … I wanted to come back, find out before it’s too late. I was a student, first year at university … I was impressionable, passionate. He was my lecturer.’
Kao gasped and spun round to face Gabby, wide eyed.
‘I know … improper, perhaps. Clichéd, definitely. But this guy … completely unique and so sexy. He had that phwoar factor. I couldn’t resist him.’
‘What happened?’ asked Kao.
‘Everything …’
Maddie and Kao stared at Gabby, waiting for her glazed expression to refocus.
‘Do you think this is it?’ said Victoria, craning her neck around the travellers in front of her to look out of the windscreen. The minibus began to slow, turning into a lay-by beside a simple brick building and faded red and white striped barrier. The driver turned the engine off and twisted around to t
he expectant faces.
‘Kampuchea!’ he said with a toothy grin.
‘To be continued!’ said Gabby, grinning at Kao and Maddie as she hurriedly finished off constructing her ciggie.
The weary travellers climbed out of the minibus. They chatted excitedly, stretched and collected their packs.
‘You, go there,’ said the driver, a palm held open as he dropped his fist into it, replicating the passport rubber-stamp routine. ‘Then, you go there. Same-same.’ He pointed across a dusty stretch of open ground to another barrier, over two hundred yards away. He dropped his fist into his palm again. ‘Okay?’
Barry raised his camera, twisted the lens, bringing Jody and the foremost border crossing into focus, his finger hovering over the shutter button.
‘No! No picture!’ shouted a border guard rushing out from behind the building, his Kalashnikov rifle swinging on its shoulder strap.
‘Whoa, okay buddy. No picture.’ Barry stepped back and replaced the lens cap, tucking the camera back into its padded bag, slung off his shoulder.
‘Passport – you go,’ said the guard, pointing at the building beside the barrier.
‘You’re in charge, chief,’ said Barry, smiling easily at the border guard as he strolled to the front of the group. Jody jogged to catch him up. She latched her arm around his, leaned in to whisper in his ear.
‘Easy babe, slow deep breaths …’
Barry chuckled, shot her a look. ‘It’s cool, all part of the game.’
Jody steered Barry up to the border control hut. They handed their passports through the hatch to another guard.
‘Fifteen hundred Baht, easy border crossing. You pay now.’
Barry glanced over at the young Thai guy wearing shades and jewellery who bounded up to them, staying behind the barrier. Barry turned back to the guard inside the hut, watched him flick through their passports, locating the Thai entry visa. Jody squeezed Barry’s arm. ‘The guy over there, he wants money for the crossing,’ she whispered.
‘It’s cool, no stress,’ Barry replied softly, smiling at her anxious expression.