The Farang Affair

by J. F. Gump

  A faint noise hummed in her ears. It sounded like chanting monks, but she knew that wasn't possible. The nearest temple was kilometers away. Not even the loudest of chants would travel that far.

  Abruptly, the noise stopped. She strained her ears to hear more but it didn't resume. She wondered at the strange phenomenon. Maybe it was an omen of some sort. The thought sent chills down her arms.

  She hurried back inside, put on proper dress, and left the house. On the front stoop she slipped on her shoes and then hurried down the street. It was a short walk to the main road. She flagged down a taxi and directed the driver to the morning market. The cabby waited while she bought fruits and sweets, and then continued toward the temple.

  Itta hadn't been to a real temple since moving to Scotland. Her memories of the customs were clear, but she was uncomfortable. She had been away for so long. She hoped the Lord Buddha would understand.

  When she entered the temple grounds she expected to hear chanting, but all was quiet. Ahead, she saw a young woman sitting near one of the many spirit houses erected around the temple. She supposed the woman was praying. When she got closer, she heard sobbing. The woman held a baby in her arms but it was deathly quiet.

  Itta hesitated for a moment before moving forward. She knew this temple often took in abused women for a night or even longer. She wondered if this woman had arrived too late for anyone to notice or help her. She hoped the baby was okay. She walked nearer.

  "Sawasdee ka," she said quietly, when she was within speaking range. "Are you okay?"

  The woman looked up, anguish etched her face. "No. My life is all wrong." Her cries went from low sobs to not so low wailing.

  Itta fought back the urge to run and comfort her. God only knew why this woman was here or what might happen if she got too close. "Is your baby okay?"

  The woman looked down at the baby as if seeing it for the first time. Immediately her crying stopped. "I don't know." She held the baby out toward Itta. "Help me, I don't know."

  Itta's heart pounded as she took the baby in her arms. It was warm but limp as a cloth doll. She put her ear to its chest then turned her cheek toward its nose. Soft puffs of breath brushed her face. The baby was sound asleep. She breathed a short sigh of relief. "Your baby is okay."

  It was then that Itta got her first clear look at the baby. It was Thai and not Thai at the same time. She looked up at the woman. She was attractive and well built. Most likely a Bangkok whore who had been stupid enough to get herself pregnant.

  "Sawasdee, krup." A male voice came from behind them.

  Itta turned to see a monk. Still holding the baby, she managed a very proper wai. As expected, the monk did not return her gesture. He ignored her completely.

  "Somjit," the monk said to the woman. "Please go to your room. You and the baby need rest."

  Obediently, she took the baby from Itta's arms and walked toward a small building near the main temple area.

  When the woman was out of sight, the monk turned and said, "Somjit has had a hard life. Yesterday was especially hard. She will be better tomorrow."

  "She seems very sad."

  "People she love have moved on with their lives. She thinks they have deserted her."

  "What do you think?" Itta asked, surprised at her boldness with the monk.

  "What I think is not important. What she believes is all that matters. After the others left, Somjit came here to pray. She was praying for death. I watched them all night to make sure they were okay."

  Itta's mind reeled. The woman had been praying for death. Surely the Lord Buddha would grant such a plea. She wondered if this was the reason for her omen. Was this why she had heard the chanting when it was too far away to be heard, and even when the monks had been silent?

  "I think the Lord Buddha sent me here to help her," she said. "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Not today; she needs rest. Tomorrow would be better."

  Itta nodded. Images of the sobbing woman and her sleeping baby slipped through her thoughts. The baby was not Thai. Her curiosity overcame protocol and she said, "Her baby is farang, I saw it."

  "It's not her baby," the monk replied. "She's only taking care."

  "Oh!" Itta's face flushed at her wrong assumption. She picked up the plastic bags and held them toward the monk. "I have gifts for the temple."

  His hands remained at his sides. "You can leave them there." He pointed to a low table near one of the stone buildings.

  She blushed even harder at her bad manners. "Khop khun ka," she said, wai'ing politely. She carried the plastic bags to the table then hurried away from the temple grounds.

  She sat outside for a while thinking about what had just happened. Surely fate was rolling the dice for her and the woman, but she didn't know why. She wondered what it would bring. She was tempted to go back inside the temple but didn't. She said silent prayers for strength and then went home.

  Her mood was sullen the rest of the day. She told her family she was exhausted from the trip, even though it was not entirely true. Images of the crying woman and the farang baby haunted her every thought. She went to bed early, but lay awake wondering if they had returned to the shrine to pray for death again. When she slept, her dreams were filled with nightmares.

  Early the next morning, before anyone else was awake, Itta went to the temple. The courtyard shrine stood alone; she breathed a sigh of relief. At least one of her nightmares wasn't true.

  She entered the building where the monk had sent the woman the day before. The hallway was mostly deserted and the doors were mostly shut. She stopped one woman and said, "Do you know a girl here who has a young baby?"

  The woman stared briefly before responding. "Several women here have young babies."

  Itta smiled. "Of course. I am looking for a girl named Somjit."

  "Is she a friend or relative?"

  "No. Just someone I met. I have been told to help her. Do you know her?"

  The woman's face softened, "Follow me."

  In a minute they entered an open area that served as the kitchen. Several women were busy peeling, slicing, and cooking. Itta spotted Somjit immediately. She was one of the fruit peelers. She walked to stand beside the girl, picked up a knife, and proceeded to help with the work.

  "Sawasdee, ka" Itta said momentarily.

  Somjit glanced up. Dark circles ringed her bloodshot eyes. "Sawasdee, ka,” she mumbled.

  Minutes passed before Itta spoke again. "I saw you yesterday when I came to the temple. Is your baby okay?"

  Somjit managed a small smile even though she was clearly uncomfortable at Itta's intrusion. "Yes, the baby is fine. Another woman is caring for her while I help with the morning meal. Thank you for asking."

  "Never mind. Your baby is very beautiful." She didn't mention the light colored hair or pale skin. "What is her name?"

  "Her name is Tippawan."

  "What a coincidence, my sister's name was Tippawan."

  Somjit's heart jerked at the woman's comment. Nuang, too, had once had a sister named Tippawan; the baby was named in honor of her. She changed the subject. "What's your name?"

  "I'm sorry. I didn't think to introduce myself. My name is Thichakorn but my nickname is Itta."

  "How long will you stay here, Itta?" Somjit asked, keeping the focus from herself. "You don't mind if I call you Itta, do you?"

  Itta laughed, "Actually, I rather if you did. Thichakorn is far too proper. Itta sounds friendlier to my ears. I'm not staying here; I’ll go back to my home before noon. What about you?"

  Somjit wasn't sure how to answer. Since she had arrived, the question had never entered her head. "Not long," she responded, knowing it was the right thing to say. None of the women ever stayed long. She watched Itta's hands paring the rind from a melon. "You're very good with a knife."

  Itta looked down then back at Somjit. "Oh, that. I worked in a restaurant for a while. I did this every day. I've had a lot of practice."

  Somjit nodded and turned back to her
work.

  In a short while they were finished, and the women carried the food to the monks’ dining hall. Somjit turned and left the kitchen. Itta hurried to catch up with her.

  "Aren't you going to eat?"

  Somjit stopped, uneasy that the woman had followed. "We cannot eat until the monks are finished, but my baby can eat now. You should wait here with the others."

  Itta felt a soft bite in Somjit's words, but she understood. "I know. I only wanted to tell you something. Yesterday, the Lord Buddha brought me to this temple. He wanted me to meet you. I knew it the moment I saw you and your baby at the shrine. I have been sent to help you, but I'm not sure what to do."

  Somjit wondered if the woman was some sort of a nut case. The world she knew didn't come with guardian angels or good Samaritans. Her world came with pain, depression, and desertions. If Buddha had indeed sent the woman, it wasn't to help her. Buddha had abandoned her a long time ago. "You can let me feed my baby."

  Itta nodded and watched as Somjit disappeared through a doorway. She felt foolish at her handling of the whole situation. She was sure the woman was her mission, but all she had managed to do was to scare her away.

  Maybe she had everything wrong. Maybe the girl didn't want or need her help. Maybe the Lord Buddha had sent her here for another reason. Maybe something as simple as making up for the years she had been away. At that moment Itta wasn't sure why she was at the temple. Maybe Buddha hadn't sent her at all. Maybe it was just her imagination running wild. She turned and walked back to the kitchen.

  The women were talking and laughing amongst themselves. A few popped pieces of fruit into their mouths, even though it wasn't proper to do that until the monks had finished eating. Itta watched for a few minutes, then decided to leave. She had no more business here today.

  As she crossed the courtyard, the same monk from yesterday approached her. She wai'ed and waited for him to speak.

  "Did you find what you seek?" he asked.

  Itta wasn't sure how to answer. "I have found that I don't know what I'm seeking."

  A faint smile formed at the monk's lips. "I think that makes your search very difficult."

  "Maybe impossible."

  "I watched you talk with Somjit. She is a very nice young woman, but she's confused right now. She is hurting and doesn't trust anyone. You should come back tomorrow and see her again. She needs a friend."

  "I’ve already decided to do that."

  "Then I am happy for Somjit. I must be going now. I have things I must do for the temple."

  "I must be going, too. My family wants me to help find my sister." On impulse, Itta pulled a picture of Nuang from her purse. "Have you seen her? It's an old photo, but I think she hasn't changed much."

  The monk took the picture from her hand. After a moment of study he said, "She left here yesterday."

  Itta heart raced at his words. "Are you sure? Do you know where she went?"

  "No, I don't know," he answered. "I only know she is gone."

  Itta's head spun. Her excitement overwhelmed her. She had to tell her mother and her sister and her brothers immediately. Without so much as a wai or a goodbye, she turned and ran. Over her shoulder she shouted, "I must tell my family right away."

  "Maybe you should talk to Somjit," the monk said as she sped toward the gate. "She is tending your sister's baby."

  His words never reached her ears.

  Chapter 27

  The day after his drunken night on the town, Jonathan Yeager slept until almost noon. He was surprised he wasn't hung over. After all of the beer he had consumed the night before, it was what he deserved. His head pounded a little but he didn't feel nauseous.

  He lay in bed for a minute to shake off his wakening daze. A deep breath triggered a spasm of smoker's cough that threatened to leave a lung on the pillow. A wad of phlegm landed on his tongue. He tasted it for blood, found none, then spit it into a tissue.

  He got up from bed and stumbled to the bathroom. There he relieved himself, groaning in solitude. He turned on the shower and then looked at himself in the mirror.

  He looked like death warmed over. What little hair he had was pointing in all directions; his eyes were blood-red splotches with a dab of green thrown in the middle. Sleep creases etched down across his forehead. The skin around his eyes was dark and puffy. He looked old.

  He splashed water on his face hoping that would help, but it didn't. He stepped into the shower and waited for himself to come back to life.

  Nuang awoke to loud harsh coughing. It took her a long moment to realize where she was – the farang’s condo. After a few minutes of struggle she remembered his name was Jon.

  She dropped her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Her bladder was stretched to the point of exploding. Since having her baby, her control had been shaky. She needed to use the toilet and right now.

  As she stood, she heard someone make a loud fart. This struck her as funny. Her attempt to suppress a giggle made her need for the toilet more urgent.

  She hurried to the door and peeked outside. No sigh of the man. She stepped into the hallway in search of the bathroom but stopped at the sound of the shower being turned on. The man was inside the room she needed most.

  She eased her face around the doorframe and looked inside. The shower curtain was heavy but she could see the man’s outline moving inside. Suddenly her bladder convulsed. She rushed inside, pulled down her panties, and sat on the toilet. She hoped the man couldn't see out through the curtains any better than she could see in.

  She was only half finished when the shower stopped. She tried to stem her flow, but couldn't. Without covering hiss of the shower, the flow of her urine seemed as loud as a waterfall. She glanced up at the shower curtain just in time to see it snap open.

  A soaking-wet, naked farang stared out at her. The alarm on his face matched the horror on her own. She turned her head away from his nakedness, but not until she had seen his private parts. The seconds felt like hours as she finished relieving herself. Her face flushed beet red. With as much dignity as she could muster, she wiped herself, slipped her panties up, and walked out the bathroom. She went back to her room and shut the door behind her. At that moment, she thought she could die from embarrassment.

  Jon turned off the shower and yanked open the curtain. A Thai woman sat on his toilet. Her eyes sweep the length of his body before she looked away. He stared back in shock. In a moment, the woman stood and left the room as if she hadn't seen him.

  Jon pulled a towel from the rack. What the hell was a Thai woman doing in his condo using his toilet? And who was she, anyway? Her face was familiar but she wasn't anyone he knew. His mind searched for any hint of what he might have done last night while he was drunk. Small bits of memory sparked, but they were too vague to recognize.

  By the time he finished shaving, he remembered meeting her at Toy's Bar. By the time he finished dressing, he remembered his drunken idea to have her teach him Thai. By the time he arrived at her bedroom door, he remembered inviting her to stay at his condo. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't remember her name or her coming home with him.

  He knocked softly at her door. "The bathroom is yours if you want to shower. I will be watching TV. When you're finished, we need to talk."

  He returned to the living room and turned on the Asian version of MTV. The volume was loud, but he didn't hear the music. He was too busy figuring how to get out of this situation. Then he wondered if he wanted out. He did want to learn Thai, and now that Julie had dumped him, who cared if his teacher lived with him or not.

  Julie! The name dredged up the reason he had gotten so drunk the night before. Yesterday he had called her when he came home from work. It had been early Saturday evening his time, but seven o'clock in the morning American time. The groggy male voice that answered the phone caught him completely off guard. He almost hung up, but didn't. Instead he asked for Julie. He hung up when he heard her voice. She called back within minutes, and she was crying. He li
stened to her explanations, believing none. He tried to laugh and pretend that whatever was happening at her apartment in Dayton wasn't important, but he felt only anger and bitterness.

  "Does he make you feel good?" he asked.

  There was a short silence on the line.

  "I'm lonely, Jon," she replied in a firm voice. “How he makes me feel physically means nothing. I just can't stand sitting home cooped up all the time. I think it would be best for both of us, if I stop pretending I can wait for you. You are a wonderful and kind person, but for now I think we should just be friends. You do understand, don't you?"

  The odd thing was that he did understand. What did he have to offer her anyway? Certainly he couldn't offer a stiff throbbing cock like her stud muffin was giving her. She had a need he couldn't fulfill. He understood her completely, but it didn't make his pain any less.

  "Yes, you're right," he said. "We were always better friends than lovers anyway."

  He hung up the phone and left the condo before she had time to call again. He went straight to the nearest bar so he didn't know if she had called back or not. By the time he had arrived at Toy's Bar, he’d become numb to the fact that Julie had dumped him. She wasn't the first, only the latest.

  The sound of a door closing caught his attention. He wondered if it was the front door or the bathroom door. In a moment the hiss of the shower answered his question. He figured she would be in there for a few minutes so he left the condo and went downstairs to buy a newspaper and a pot of tea. The shower was still running when he returned.

  He tapped lightly on the door. "I have hot tea, if you want some." The shower continued unabated.