by J. F. Gump
Today she would start her search closer to home. Nuang had come to the temple in Phitsanulok, and Isara thought the name was familiar. It could be a coincidence, but there was also a chance that she or her family lived nearby.
Phitsanulok is neither the largest nor the smallest city in Thailand, but it is big enough that she could never search the whole city by herself. She pondered what to do, where to start. She guessed Nuang to be in her mid thirties. Isara had said he knew the surname Bongkot but not Duansawang. It was possible that Nuang Bongkot and Nuang Duansawang were the same person. She could have married and taken her husband's family name. If she had a husband, he would probably be about the same age. It wasn't much but it was something.
On impulse she decided to try the police. It was a shot in the dark, but it was better than running all over town asking people at random if they knew the Duansawang or Bongkot families. Police headquarters wasn't far away; she could be there in five minutes. She changed clothes, put on make-up, and left her apartment. She smiled when her motorcycle started on the first kick.
Chapter 18
The police station was surprisingly quiet. In fact, she was the only civilian in the place. Everyone went about their business, ignoring her completely. Finally a lieutenant looked in her direction, his eyebrows raised in question.
"Sawasdee ka," she said, presenting him a wai. He didn't return the gesture. She noticed his name badge; Viboon it read. "Lieutenant, I hope you can help me."
He motioned her to a chair at the front of his desk. "You have some problem?"
"No, no problem. My boss, Isara Horungruang, has instructed me to find someone, a missing person." The Horungruang family was well known in Phitsanulok. Pajeeka figured a bit of name dropping wouldn't hurt anything.
Recognition lit the Lieutenant's face, "I have met Khun Isara before. Truly a gentleman. You say you work for him?"
Pajeeka smiled, "I am on his investigative staff. You and I are sort of in the same business." She pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to him. He gave it a cursory examination. "Who are you trying to find?"
"I am looking for a woman named Chalamsee Duansawang."
He thought for a long minute, then shook his head, "I don't know the name." He turned and announced loudly to the others in the room. "Does anyone know the Duansawang family?"
Immediately, one officer responded, "I used to play soccer with a kid named Surat Duansawang. I haven't seen him in years. I think he moved to Chiang Mai or something."
He turned back to Pajeeka, "Sorry. I guess we weren't much help."
"Mai pen rai. Khun Isara is looking for another family, too. Their name is Bongkot. Do you know them?"
"I've heard the name, but I can't remember where. What about first names?"
"Chalamsee, Nuang, Tippawan, or Math, do any of those sound familiar?"
The lieutenant stiffened and leaned forward. "I know a Math Bongkot." He struggled to keep his expression nonchalant. "Nice girl, very polite, very smart. A year or two ago she had some problems. Domestic violence or something. Not too serious. She never went to jail. Her family is from Phitsanulok, but I haven't seen her since the case was dropped. She must have moved away. That's not much help either, is it?"
"It's more than I knew before. Do you know if Math Bongkot had a sister named Chalamsee? Her nickname is Nuang. Khun Isara would want to know."
"From what I recall she had several sisters. It seems there was one named Neet but I don't remember the others. One lived in Chiang Mai. I remember that because she wanted to go there to look for work. If I think for a while, I might remember more."
"You have remembered much already. You've been most helpful. I will go now, so you can attend to your duties." On impulse she added, "My boss is offering a 30,000 baht reward to anyone who can provide a complete report on the Bongkot and Duansawang families."
It wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't a lie either. She had told Isara she might need money to open doors, and he had authorized fifty thousand baht. She was sure he hadn't expected her to spend so much of it on one bribe, but if it sped results, she didn't care. It meant she could be on her holiday that much sooner.
"What sort of report?" the lieutenant's eyes sparked to attention.
"One with as much detail as can be learned through police access, local or otherwise. You know: family members, births, deaths, marriages, divorces, arrests, where they live and things like that. You seem like a smart and aggressive young man. With your contacts, you could probably wrap that up in a day or two." She laid it on thick to bolster his ego. "Much faster than I could on my own."
"What do you get out of this?"
"I get to go on holiday as soon as my boss is satisfied." She smiled seductively, "With an extra 30,000 baht, you might want to go on holiday with me."
He smiled back. "With an extra 30,000 baht, I would buy my father a new motorcycle."
"Khun Viboon, you are a very thoughtful son."
"Not really," he replied, "It's just that I have a very good father with a very worn-out motorcycle."
She lowered her eyes coyly, and then looked up, "I still think you are a thoughtful son. You have my business card. Call my cell phone if you learn anything. I'm authorized to pay for incomplete reports, too."
"If there is anything I don't find, it's such a secret that no one can uncover it. I will call you as soon as I have something to report."
Pajeeka stood from her seat, "Khop khun mahk ka," she said presenting him with a polite wai. "I will wait for your call." She turned and left the station.
Viboon's mind whirled. Math Bongkot! Oh yes, he knew her. Just hearing her name caused feelings to gather in his chest. Not so long ago, he had been totally infatuated with her. At that time he had wanted to ask her for a date, but it hadn't seemed appropriate for him to socialize with someone in trouble with the law. He had often wondered what had happened to her. This was the perfect opportunity to find out and get paid for it. He went to the file room and pulled out the case folder of Tippawan "Math" Bongkot.
That evening Pajeeka treated herself to a very expensive meal at Isara's expense. Later, she slept in her own bed for the first time in more than a week.
She spent the next few days duplicating some of the lieutenant's efforts. As much as she was certain he wanted the 30,000 baht, she refused to bet her holiday on it.
Her friend in Bangkok had agreed to help for a fraction of what she expected, but the bits of information he emailed to her were minimal. Still, it was enough to help her know if any report Lieutenant Viboon might give her was fact or fiction. She had already decided to give Viboon a full week to do his investigation. If he hadn't called by then, she would contact him.
Chapter 19
Pattaya, Thailand
Nuang's bus departed the Phitsanulok station less than three hours after she left the temple. She breathed a sigh of relief as she started her journey south toward Bangkok. The entire time she had been in the bus station, she had worried that someone from the temple would come looking for her.
The bus reached the outskirts of Phitsanulok about the same time that Isara was instructing Pajeeka to investigate the Duansawang and Bongkot families. If Nuang had known that small detail, she would have been concerned. She was running away and didn't want anyone prying into her past.
She felt guilty for the way she had left the temple, but she hadn't been able to do it any other way. Despite her resolve, if Somjit or the young monk or anyone else had discovered her plan and asked her to stay, she would have. Instead of getting caught up in the emotions that come with hard decisions, she had simply disappeared. She had left a note for Somjit, but it didn't say much. Only that she would return after she found a job. Nuang thought it might take a month or so but she knew it could be much longer.
She wasn't too worried though; Somjit and the baby would be okay at the temple. The young monk Laht would see to that. She knew by looking at him that he was hopelessly in love with Somjit. Even if she ne
ver returned, Somjit and the baby would be safe with Laht. She hoped Somjit would understand why she left.
By seven o'clock the sun had disappeared and the long Thailand night had begun. Outside there was little to see except a sprinkling of houses and the glare of passing headlights. Every few kilometers small clusters of brightly lit restaurants and shop houses would emerge from the darkness. These roadside areas seemed ever alive with local families who came to eat, shop, and socialize with their neighbors. Most of them were farmers, rugged people with little concern for anything that happened beyond their own small piece of the universe.
Nuang thought about the lives these people must lead, isolated from the mainstream of the world. As remote as the temple had been, it was nothing compared to the seclusion these people faced each and every day of their lives. Yet the ones she saw were smiling, as if content with their fate. After spending her entire existence in the cities of Phitsanulok and Chiang Mai, Nuang couldn't imagine how life must be for these people living so far from the excitement of modern Thailand.
She tried to sleep but couldn't. The bus was comfortable enough, but she wasn't sleepy. She passed the time wondering what she would do when she arrived in Pattaya. First she would find a hotel; that was an absolute must. Next she would look for a job. She figured she could find work as a waitress or a cook or a hotel maid. After seventeen years of marriage, she had plenty of experience at all of those.
Pattaya would be gearing up for the so called tourist high season and finding a good job should be easy. Work was the least of her worries. She was more concerned about finding a place to live until her first paycheck. She had money in her pocket, but not much. It would be gone soon enough if she had to stay in a hotel for more than a few nights.
The bus entered the northern outskirts of Bangkok a little after midnight. The sky glowed from the lights of the city. With a population of over 10 million people, Bangkok was the largest city in Thailand. Chiang Mai and Phitsanulok seemed like midgets compared to this sprawling Asian megalopolis. As they neared the center of the city, skyscrapers sprouted by the dozens, towering high into the smog filled air. The bus exited the freeway and lumbered slowly through the busy streets. They reached Bangkok’s eastern station at one o'clock in the morning.
Nuang purchased a ticket to Pattaya on the next bus with available seats. She wouldn't leave the Bangkok station for another four hours. She passed the time watching the other travelers milling around the terminal. They were an odd mix of Thais and farangs. Young and old, fat and thin, beautiful and ugly. They all looked as tired as she felt. She searched each face but saw no one she knew. She managed a few short naps but was afraid to fall into a deep sleep. She didn't want to miss her bus.
By five-fifteen in the morning, she was on her way south. Even at that early hour, the streets outside were filled with traffic. She wondered what these people did for a living that would bring them out so early in the day. Maybe, she thought, these were the people who slept by day and kept the city alive in the darkness. Bangkok was a city of its own and not governed by the standards that ruled the Thailand she knew.
Nuang dozed on and off as the bus made its way down the eastern seaboard of the Gulf of Thailand. Half waking thoughts and fleeting dreams replayed the other two trips she had made to Pattaya.
The first time was when her sister Math was critically injured in a motorcycle accident. Nuang had arrived just in time to see her sister die. Math's death had been both devastating and enlightening. Nuang had been happy because her sister would no longer have to bear the suffering that came with life. But she had been equally sad because she would miss talking and eating and laughing with someone she loved.
Forty days after her first journey to Pattaya, she had returned. That second trip had been to attend a sympathy ceremony given by Math's farang lover. He was an American named Mike Johnson. The man had sent a personal invitation and Nuang had accepted for reasons both selfish and not.
She had first met Mike Johnson when he lived with Math in Pattaya. Nuang had found him to be exciting, exotic, and alluring. That was part of the reason she had gone to Pattaya when he asked. But the main reason she had attended the ceremony was because of a promise she had made to her sister.
That second trip to Pattaya had been enchanted. Her emotions had still been supercharged from Math's recent death, and being so close to the man who once loved her sister put her into an intoxicated state. At the ceremony, Mike Johnson had tried hard not to cry, but Nuang had seen the solitary tear that escaped his eye. It had affected her deeply. She had wanted to hold and comfort him but couldn't with her brother and his neighbors so near. Later, after the ceremony, she had kept her promise to her sister as she satisfied her own selfish desires. She had held him in her arms and made love to him one last time, just as her sister had asked. That afternoon of passion had changed her life. Indeed, it had been magic, and she had left the proof with Somjit at the temple in Phitsanulok.
When Nuang finally fell into a true sleep, it was almost dawn. It would be daylight by the time she arrived in Pattaya.
Chapter 20
On the same day that Nuang's bus was leaving Phitsanulok, Mike Johnson arrived at the Pittsburgh airport. The only difference was that it was six o'clock in the morning in America and five o'clock in the evening in Thailand. He was two hours early for his flight but that was on purpose. He had a business class ticket and he intended to get his money's worth.
First class and business class passengers received special privileges including free drinks and snacks in the executive lounges and Mike intended to get his fair share of both. He figured he could drink two or three gin and tonics before his plane left, a couple of more during the flight, and at least one at the terminal in Detroit. He wanted to be well inebriated by the time his flight left for Tokyo. With luck he would be asleep before they served their first meal. This was not Mike's first flight across the U.S. and the Pacific, and the best solution he had ever found for surviving the trip was to sleep through as much of it as he could. Gin, he had discovered, worked much better than melatonin.
He collected his ticket at the front counter, passed security with his carry-on, and went to the executive lounge. Except for three other passengers and the bartender, he had the place to himself. The others, he noted, were drinking coffee. He ordered a gin and tonic.
His stomach rebelled at the first sip, so he ate a sweet roll and tried again. This time there was no reaction. Two drinks later he boarded his plane.
The commuter flight to Detroit had no business class section, so Mike was seated in first class with a handful of other passengers. The flight was smooth and the service personal. He managed to down three drinks in the short hop. He had two more at Cheers in the Detroit terminal before rushing to board his flight to Tokyo.
Mike had requested and been given an aisle seat. To him it was the only place to sit on an extended flight—even in business class. If he had to use the toilet, or if he just wanted to get up and stretch, he didn't have to climb over his seatmate to do it. It was convenient. On the other hand, if you had a seatmate with a weak bladder, it could be just as inconvenient. His seatmate on this trip was a young man. Mike guessed him to be about twenty-five years old. He was relieved to see the young man wasn't drinking anything. It would be a good trip.
Mike took his assigned seat, adjusted his clothes to get comfortable, and fastened his seatbelt. He ordered Beefeaters on the rocks, then reached up and opened the air vent. A trickle of warm air oozed out. Mike closed the vent and turned to his seatmate. "Where are you headed?"
The young man looked up from his book. "Thailand."
"Me too," Mike said. "Ever been there before?"
"No, it's my first time. What about you?"
"Been there a few times. Lived there for a while."
The young man face's turned to rapt attention. "You've lived there? What's it like?"
"Hot," Mike answered. "Real fucking hot."
The young man nodded e
nthusiastically. "Yeah. That's what I've heard. Do you know the language? I bought a book and some tapes, but it all seems like gibberish. Have you learned to speak Thai?"
"Not really. Just little stuff like 'Hello', 'I don't want', 'You're beautiful', 'I love you', and enough other things to survive, but I don't speak the language. I think I'm too old to learn. Have you ever been in a foreign country?"
"I was in Kentucky once. They didn't speak English there either. Does that count?"
Mike laughed. "I have a few friends who would kick both our asses for this, but yes, I think it does count."
The young man smiled and nodded knowingly, "Me too. By the way, my name is Jim—Jim Dowling."
"Pleased to meet you, Jim. My name is Mike."
Mike's Beefeaters arrived and Jim returned to his book. Mike flirted shamelessly with the stewardesses. This wasn't his first transpacific flight and he knew the value of a friendly flight attendant on a twelve-hour-plus plane ride.
In a minute the influx of passengers dribbled to a halt. The crew went through their routine of sealing doors and helping the few stragglers stow their carry-ons. One stewardess collected unfinished drinks, but bypassed Mike as she did. Yes, a friendly flight attendant was worth her weight in gold.
Even before everyone was belted in their seats, the plane lurched gently in reverse. Jim Dowling abandoned his book at the movement. He stared outside until the plane stopped and jerked forward. "Have you been to any other countries in Asia besides Thailand?" he asked, making idle conversation.
Images of Vietnam flickered through Mike's head. He took a slow thoughtful sip on his gin. "Yeah, I was in Nam once. For about 14 months."
Jim sized Mike's tone thoroughly before speaking. "Were you there during the war? The way you said your words makes me think you're a Vietnam vet. Am I right?"
Mike didn't look at Jim as he answered, "Yeah, I was there during the war."