by J. F. Gump
She panicked when there was no answer to her persistent knocking at Nuang's door. With heart pounding, she let herself into the room. Nuang wasn't there but she saw the letter on the bed and picked it up. Her hands trembled as she struggled with the unfamiliar handwriting.
"I have gone away," it read, "I will be back as soon as I can find a job. I love you both."
The short note gave no clues as to where Nuang had gone or when she would return. Only that she would be back after she found a job. With the Thai economy in a shambles, Somjit knew that might be never. Nuang had deserted her. That realization blocked out all other thoughts.
She stumbled back to her own room in a state of numbness. Her existence blurred into a tangled mass of confused depression. She lay down on her bed and let the black mood overwhelm her.
Somjit's depression was nearing climax when there was a soft knock at her door. She forced herself from the bed and pulled it open. It was the young monk Laht. He was dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt. The meaning of what she saw escaped her.
"Sawasdee ka," she said, her words automatic. Her tone hid the turmoil ripping through her.
"Good evening," he responded, very proper and very polite. "I have come to ask you to go with me."
She heard his words but they barely registered. She had no idea what he was really saying. At that moment she wasn't capable of understanding.
"No," she said aloud, but to herself she thought, I cannot. I must take care of little Tippawan.
He stared at her in disbelief; his face burning. With one simple word she had shattered his dreams. He reached out to touch her, stopped, and then let his hand fall. Without another word he turned and walked away.
It was only after she closed her door that she understood what had just happened. Laht had proposed to her and she had rejected him. She looked at the baby in her arms. For the briefest of seconds she hated it for the hold it had on her. At that moment she also hated Nuang for abandoning her with the baby. Her thoughts spun at the maelstrom of emotions ripping through her. In a minute, she put the baby on the bed and left the room to find Laht.
She had gone just a few steps when she heard the baby cry; it froze her in mid-stride. Her heart pounded, torn in two directions. She wanted to run to Laht and tell him she loved him and wanted to go with him, but she couldn't leave the baby alone and crying.
She hurried back, picked the baby, and soothed it quiet. Her mind raced to decisions. She had to talk to Laht. She left the room and walked as fast as she could without jarring the baby. She went straight to Laht's quarters and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again, louder. Still no answer.
Somjit panicked. She hurried back to the women's area and asked the first person she saw to hold her baby for a few minutes. Without having to worry about hurting the baby, she could run. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She searched everywhere throughout the temple and the grounds outside. Laht was nowhere to be found. Still she continued to run. She couldn't make herself stop.
One senior monk noticed her erratic movements and the frantic expression on her face. He caught up with her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to a halt. "Are you okay?"
"I need to find Laht. I must tell him something. Have you seen him?"
The monk held firm, "If you mean the young monk, he is gone. Someone in a fancy car drove him away. He's been gone for over ten minutes. What's so important? Maybe I can contact him if it's urgent enough."
"I want to tell him I love him." She jerked her arm from his grasp. She knew that wasn't urgent enough for anything. She ran back to her room, closed the door, and cried. Everything she believed was gone; everyone she loved had deserted her.
She could understand Laht running away. He came from a wealthy family, he was well educated, and soon he would be a doctor in Chiang Mai. He had everything but she was less than nothing, a common laborer whose husband had killed their baby, an ignorant rebar buster whose formal education had been so hit and miss that it was practically nonexistent, a married woman who would probably be barren for the rest of her life. She was surprised Laht had ever noticed her in the first place. If she were him, she would have run away, too.
Nuang's abandonment hurt even more than Laht's. Her note had said she would be back, but Somjit knew it was a lie. Nuang had disappeared and would never return. She would find a new life without the burden of a baby and then forget her promise.
As much as Somjit loved and wanted this baby as her own, she knew she could never be a proper mother by herself. She thought about running away from the temple and leaving the baby behind. It would be the kindest thing she could do. The baby would be put up for adoption. As hard as she tried to convince herself it was right, she knew it was wrong. She didn't want to stay, but she couldn't leave.
A strange melancholy overtook her. Her thoughts became hazy and disjointed. She sat on her bed and cried as darkness invaded her. For the first time since Laht had saved her life, she wanted to die.
In a while the woman brought Tippawan to her room. The baby was crying and nothing she did could make it stop. The noise rasped coarse across her raw emotions. At that instant she hated the bawling lump of flesh she held in her arms. Her loathing grew hotter with each new wail.
Why did the baby have to cry now? Her depression intensified beyond anything she had felt since the first day she arrived at the temple. If she was being punished her for some past life’s sins, she wanted it to stop. She couldn't live like this.
With tears streaming, she picked up the screaming baby and ran to a small shrine in the courtyard. There she lay down and prayed for death.
Chapter 17
Pajeeka Wasiwat, Isara's investigator, had followed Nuang when she slipped away from the temple. It was partly out of curiosity and partly from her sense of duty. She wasn't sure what Isara would want to know, and she didn't want to risk disappointing him. She had already learned much about Somjit, but she knew little about Nuang. She didn't understand the intricate dynamics of this affair with Laht, but she knew Nuang was somehow involved.
Pajeeka lost Nuang in the cross-town traffic but her instincts told her the woman was going to the bus station. She arrived in time to see Nuang stepping away from the ticket window.
She waited until Nuang had taken a seat and then approached the agent. A two hundred baht bribe resulted in a name and a destination: Chalamsee Duansawang—Pattaya, Thailand.
After leaving the bus station, she stopped at an internet café and typed up her short report to Isara. She was finished by four o'clock. By four-thirty, she was waiting impatiently in Isara's reception area, anxious to return to the temple. She didn't want to miss anything that might happen in her absence. The minutes ticked past.
Isara was making her wait on purpose. She was certain of that. It was the same tactic he used on most of his clients. He always had to be busy, even when he wasn't. Considering that she was the only one waiting, she knew he wasn't busy today.
The waiting annoyed her, but only a little. Isara had always been good to her. He respected her for what she did and she respected him for treating her like a person. She had once told a friend he was the most honest man in Thailand, and she had meant every word. Besides, she was getting paid by the hour and he was approving her timesheets. She would wait the rest of the day if she had to. It was his choice.
A short time later the receptionist interrupted her thoughts, "Khun Isara will see you now."
Pajeeka crossed the waiting area and stepped inside his office. It looked bare compared to the last time she had been there. No pictures and no bookshelves, not even the wooden elephants she liked. The only thing that hadn't changed was his desk. Isara sat behind it, shuffling through a stack of papers. She waited for him to notice her entrance.
After a moment he looked up. "Pajeeka." His face broke into a wide grin. "Please have a seat."
He motioned toward the solitary chair at the front of his desk.
She presented a polite wai and sat where he
pointed.
Isara leaned forward. His practiced smile beamed. "I am happy to see you are well."
Pajeeka couldn't stop herself from smiling in return. "Khop khun ka." She let her eyes fall in deference. "I have been well. I hope the same for you."
Isara studied her for a moment. Pajeeka was the daughter of an old friend. He had hired her at his friend's request, and it had worked out well. He found Pajeeka interesting, even intriguing. By the age of thirty she had experienced enough for someone twice her age. Bar-girl, speed head, small time drug dealer, heroin runner, and more. She had done it all. At the same time, she was one of the smartest people he had ever met. He got straight to the point.
"What have you learned?"
"I have learned that life is very complicated."
"I’ve known that for a long time." He fidgeted with a paperclip. "What else?"
"Somjit, the woman your son loves, has a husband already." She paused for effect.
Isara felt his smile drop despite his best efforts to keep it in place. "Are you sure? Of course you are. I am sorry I asked that. I know better than to question your observations. Tell me everything."
"The day Laht came to see you, he went back to the temple and avoided everyone for two days. Mostly, he stayed in his room. I don't know what he was doing, but it set tongues wagging. The girl, Somjit, was usually on the sharp end of the gossip. It made her easy to spot."
She paused, waiting to see if he had a response. He only stared.
"The girl is actually very beautiful. Quite shy but a nice person. The way she talks says she is uneducated. I don't think she's stupid, but I haven't been able to spend enough time with her to know for sure. As I understand, she was very sick when she came to the temple. She had been beaten to near death by her husband. One woman said Laht spent days healing her. That same woman said Laht was a bad doctor."
Isara tensed at the words. "Laht's had the best medical training money can buy. How dare anyone say he is a bad doctor!"
Pajeeka wanted to laugh. She liked to bait people and Isara had fallen for it. "She said a good doctor never falls in love with his patients."
Isara blushed, realizing what Pajeeka had just done. She wasn't so much different than himself. He stored their exchange away for future reference. "My son can fall in love with whomever he wants. Please continue with your report."
"Somjit is an orphan so to speak. Her parents have been dead since she was sixteen. If she has other living relatives, I am not aware of it. For the last two years, she has been working in Phitsanulok for a construction company. Her husband's name is Nong. Before the uh…, before the incident, Nong was one of the biggest speed freaks in Phitsanulok. Rumor has it that he has run away to Pattaya."
She had learned those little tidbits from some of her street friends, but she claimed them as her own.
"What is this incident you mention?"
Pajeeka squirmed uneasily. Isara would learn the truth sooner or later; it might as well be now. She took a deep breath.
"Somjit was pregnant before she came to the temple. Now she's not, but she has no baby. Her husband beat her and he killed her baby."
An unexpected anger surged inside her as she repeated what she knew. When she finished, she added, "Laht saved her life."
Isara was quiet. Pajeeka wasn't sure if it was because of the woman his son had chosen to fall in love with, or because of the way her baby had died.
In a moment he spoke, "Have you typed your report?"
She had more to tell, but nothing she hadn't already typed. "I have it on diskette." She handed it to Isara.
"I think this information should remain private between us."
"Of course. What will you do?"
"I will do nothing. Laht is a grown man. If he asks my advice, I will give it. If he doesn't mention it, I won't either. I will just pray he makes decisions that are best for him."
Neither spoke for a minute. The silence grew oppressive. Finally Pajeeka said, "It's getting late. They will miss me at the temple. I must be going."
"You don't need to return to the temple," he replied. "There's nothing more I need to know. Today is Laht's last day of service to the Lord Buddha. I've already sent a driver to bring him home. Why don't you take a few days off? I'll call you if I need you."
"Khop khun ka," she said, wai'ing politely. "You are a most generous boss."
Isara nodded and Pajeeka walked toward the door. Before leaving his office, she turned and whispered, "I will pray for Laht, too."
As she rode the elevator to the ground floor, Pajeeka considered everything she had learned during the last week. Isara was right, it was a mess. She felt sorry for everyone. Especially she felt sorry for Somjit. She was truly a very nice woman whose entire life had beaten her into humble obedience and servitude.
She wondered if that was what Laht found so appealing. Some men liked that sort of woman. Usually they were the same men who were unsure of themselves and their own sexuality. Somjit would make someone a wonderful wife one day if she could learn to love again. Laht was probably the best shot she would ever have. She wondered what decisions Laht would make.
As a motorcycle taxi sped toward her apartment, she debated where she would go for her few days off. She considered Bangkok then discarded that idea. It was too big, too hot, and too expensive. Her second choice was Phuket, but it was too far away. Finally, she decided on Pattaya.
She had worked in Pattaya as a bar-girl when she was younger. She wasn't proud of that part of her life, but she wasn't embarrassed by it either. Besides, maybe she would see some people from her past. Even if she didn't, she could always have some fun teasing the farang tourists. It would be exciting after the boring nightlife of Phitsanulok.
After Pajeeka had left his office, Isara read her report. One name jumped out at him. That name was Chalamsee. He had once known a woman with that same name. Like the woman in Pajeeka's report, her nickname was Nuang. Memories as clear as yesterday flashed through his head.
Years ago, his brother Jum had fathered an illegitimate child with a married woman. That child's name was Tippawan "Math" Bongkot. There had been no scandal, but his brother had been so ashamed that he had left his life behind and entered the monkhood. It was a secret very few people knew. The Nuang he remembered had been the sister of his brother's daughter. More important, Nuang also knew the family secret because Jum himself had told her. Isara had never met Nuang, yet he knew her well.
Isara had last seen his niece Math Bongkot at his brother's funeral. That had been nearly a year ago. Afterwards she had just disappeared. He had never tried to find her because he never had a reason to. He had never forgotten her, either, but time had pushed her far into the background of his life and his thoughts.
Now, seeing the name Chalamsee and the nickname Nuang in print next to each other, he felt an irresistible urge to know what had happened to Math, his brother's daughter. He had an equally powerful urge to know about this woman named Nuang who was now linked to his son. He wanted to find out if it was the same person he remembered. If it was her, he needed to make sure she and Laht never talked about their pasts. He didn't want Laht to ever know the true reason his brother had entered monkhood. He picked up the phone and called Pajeeka.
Pajeeka's cell phone rang as she stepped into her apartment. She knew without seeing the caller I.D. that it was Isara. "Hello," she sighed wearily.
"I read your report. You did a good job, very informative, but I have a question. It's about the woman who went to Pattaya, the one named Nuang. You said her given name was Chalamsee Duansawang. How do you know that?"
"I saw her leave the temple. She seemed very upset. Actually, she was totally stressed. She was carrying a box and she was in a hurry. I was curious, so I followed her. She went directly to the bus station. The ticket agent was happy to tell me her name in exchange for two hundred baht. You will see it listed on my expense report. Is it important?"
"I'm not sure. I once knew a woman named Chalams
ee with the nickname of Nuang, but her family name was not Duansawang. It was Bongkot. I need you to find out if it is the same person. If it is, I want you to learn everything you can about her."
Pajeeka could see her holiday in Pattaya disappearing before her eyes. "Can it wait a few days? I've already made plans for my time off."
"I'm sorry, but my instincts tell me this is urgent. You are good at this sort of work. I expect it will take just a couple of days. When you're finished, I will pay for your holiday. Transportation, food, and the best hotel. Everything."
She didn't need to give his offer a second thought, her vacation could wait. "This must be serious."
"It's personal." His voice tensed. "Whatever you discover must remain a secret between the two of us. This is no one's business but mine. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," she answered, his tone had left no room for any other response. "I understand. You shouldn't worry; I never talk about my work."
"I know that. I just wanted you to understand that this is very personal. I need you on this tomorrow."
"I will start tonight, but finding her might not be so easy. I know her name but that's about all. It might take more money that I have to chase this one down. I have a friend who has access to all sorts of government records, but he won't do anything for free. Not even for me."
"Money's not a problem. I will pay whatever it takes. I will have my secretary deposit 50,000 baht into your bank account. If that runs out, I will deposit more."
Fifty thousand baht! Most people she knew made less than that in an entire year. Whatever was going on involved more than Laht screwing some peasant girl.
"One more thing," Isara continued. "If you learn anything about someone named Tippawan or Math, let me know immediately." He hung up without waiting for a response.
Pajeeka looked at her watch. It was after six, too late to catch her friend at work. He was a system's analyst for the government in Bangkok and had easy access to all sorts of information; he wasn't above being bribed. She would call him at home later and pitch her offer. He would be more productive if he had all night to think about his reward.