by J. F. Gump
They took the baby for short daily strolls. Somjit would walk proud beside of Laht as she pushed little Tippawan in the carriage. In her new clothes and with Laht at her side everyone smiled with a respect she had never experienced. Her confidence and self-esteem grew with each passing day.
On Thursday a cold rain fell and they were confined to the condo. Laht and the baby fell asleep shortly after lunch. It was three o'clock before the sun reappeared. Little Tippawan awoke but Laht didn't. On impulse, she decided to take the baby for a stroll. She left a short note for Laht and went outside. The air was cool for a Thailand afternoon. It was a good day to walk.
Baby Tippawan soon fell back asleep to the gentle rocking of the carriage.
Surat had spent most of that same morning ferrying passengers all over Chiang Mai. Business had been steady but he hadn't made much in tips. With the cold rain, everyone wanted a real taxi and not the open-sided tuk-tuks and motorcycle taxis. Most of his fares had been locals going short distances and giving him even shorter tips.
Mid-afternoon, the clouds thinned and the sun peeked through. The sky turned clear and the north air crisp.
Surat had just finished two airport runs and both customers had been generous tippers. He was on his way back to the airport taxi-stand when he saw her. She was walking in the same direction. She was pushing a baby carriage. If she hadn't looked toward the street, he would never have seen her face. Even then, he wasn't sure it was really her.
He slowed his taxi, pulled to the curb, and waited for the woman to catch up. He studied her face through the rear window as she approached. There was no doubt—it was her.
After she had passed by, Surat jumped out of the cab and caught up with her. She stopped and turned.
"Good afternoon," he said. "Do you remember me?"
Somjit scrutinized him. "No, I don't know you. If you will excuse me, I must be going. I’m late already."
"You and a man rode in my taxi the night your baby was sick."
Suddenly she did remember. She didn't remember his face but she remembered the taxi ride to the hospital. "Of course. How impolite of me to forget."
"Never mind," he replied, craning his neck to see the baby. All he saw was the ruddy complexion of the infant's face. He couldn't see clearly enough to know if the baby looked more like him or Nuang. "Is your baby better now?"
"Yes, thank you for asking. She is much better."
Surat smiled. "She is very beautiful. What's her name?"
"Tippawan. She is named after her aunt."
The woman's words, though softly spoken, pounded against him like a jackhammer. Nuang's sister's name had been Tippawan. It was all he could do to maintain his composure. He took a deep breath, "Is her aunt deceased and was she nicknamed Math?"
Somjit's heart fluttered. How could he know that? She knew he must have overheard her and Laht that night in the taxi, but she didn't remember saying anything about Nuang's dead sister. She struggled to remain calm. "Do you know Nuang? Are you a relative or something?"
"She is my wife."
Panic exploded inside her chest. "You’re mistaken, Nuang doesn't have a husband. She told me so herself."
Surat kept his voice low, composed. "Nuang has one brother who lives in Pattaya. She has another brother and a sister in Phitsanulok. Her mother lives there, too. She likes to wear her hair in braids."
He paused to gauge her reaction. Her expression spoke louder than words. There was no question; they were talking about the same Nuang.
"When she was pregnant, she sometimes heard voices whispering in her ears. Maybe she still does. She thinks they are evil spirits. Does that sound like the same Nuang you know?"
"Yes! But that's not possible. This baby's father is farang. Nuang told me that. Anyone can see it's true."
"I don't understand what you mean."
Somjit slipped the cap off of the sleeping baby. Her hair wasn't blond, but it was far from Thai black. "Her eyes are blue," she said.
Surat paled as he backed away from the carriage. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The baby was half farang. There was no doubt about what he saw. His head swam. Maybe the woman was right. Maybe the Nuang she knew wasn't his wife. But too much was the same; it had to be her. At an instant, his mind saw everything crystal clear—the baby wasn't his.
Nuang had been to Pattaya just before she learned she was pregnant. She must have had sex with some farang while she was there. All this time she had let him believe the baby was his. He felt anger seething up from the depths of his soul. He felt an extreme urge to hurt someone but kept it in check.
"You’re right," he lied to hide his soaring anger. He was outraged by the idea of others knowing his wife had gotten pregnant by anyone but him. "I must be mistaken. It must be a different Nuang."
"Yes," Somjit responded, edging away from the cabby. The sudden anger in his eyes scared her. "I must go. People will worry if I'm gone too long."
Surat nodded and returned to his taxi. Somjit hurried back toward Laht's condo.
Somjit’s hand shook as she fumbled the key into the lock. The cabby had terrified her. She pushed the door open and came face to face with Laht.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I don't know. I think I just met Tippawan's father."
"What?" Panic pushed his voice to high pitch. "Who? Where?"
Somjit told him about her encounter. "What if the man comes back? What if he knows where we live. What if he really is Nuang's husband?"
Laht pulled her close to her, "Don't worry, teelak; he won't come here. Everything will be okay. My father is looking for Nuang. I'm sure he will find her soon."
Somjit's emotions ran rampant. She wanted to find Nuang, but, at the same time, she hoped she never would. She buried her face against Laht's chest and cried.
He held her for a minute then pulled away. "Listen to me, Somjit. I love you, but it's time for this to come to an end. Not us, but our situation with Nuang and her baby. The longer you and I and little Tippawan live as a family, the harder it will be for everyone."
Somjit was quiet for a minute. "I know you’re right, but I'm so afraid that man will come and take her away and I will never see her again."
"I don't know who the man is, but he clearly isn't Tippawan's father. Maybe he isn't even Nuang's husband. For all we know he is some crackbrain who happens to know Nuang. I don't think he will come around again."
"Who knows what a crazy person might do?"
This gave Laht pause. She was truly scared. Actually, he was too, but he couldn't let her know that. "If that man ever comes close to you or the baby again, it will be the last time. If it will make you feel better, we can leave Chiang Mai for a few days. We can go to Phitsanulok. Maybe someone at the temple has seen Nuang, or knows where she went. We can stay at my parents' house. I want them to meet you."
The thought of meeting his parents terrified her almost as much as the cabby. She knew it would have to happen sooner or later if she and Laht stayed together, but she wasn't ready, not yet.
"Teelak," she whispered, "can we stay at a hotel?"
Laht laughed despite the situation. "Yes, we can stay at a hotel."
She glanced down at baby Tippawan and then back up at Laht. "Can we leave now?"
Her worry was contagious. He looked up at the door. "Pack our things while I make a couple of calls. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."
When Surat left Somjit and the baby, he drove aimlessly through the streets of Chiang Mai. Anger and depression twisted his mind into a worthless pile of elephant dung no longer capable of reason. Images of Nuang having sex with a hairy, smelly farang sifted through the mayhem inside his head. As clear as day, he could see her eagerly taking an oversized penis into her mouth, and then helping guide it into her womanhood. He could hear her moan in sexual pleasure. He watched as the farang exploded his seed into his wife.
"Noooooo!" he screamed at the top of his lungs and pulled the taxi to a stop. He slumped over the steerin
g wheel and smashed his fist hard on the dashboard. Wails of anger shook him to the core. Tears burned at his eyes and streamed down his face. It was the first time Surat had ever cried as a grown man.
In a while his sobs gave way to nausea and he vomited at the side of the road. Afterward he felt empty and numb. He steered back into the flow of traffic and headed home. Now more than ever he wanted to find Nuang. He didn't want to hit her, shout at her, or even hate her; he only wanted her to see how much she had hurt him. Then he would leave her alone.
Surat hadn't touched alcohol in months, but he needed a drink now. He stopped at a small outdoor restaurant and ordered a beer. He felt its impact within minutes. His earlier images of Nuang with her farang lover returned to haunt him. He almost cried but didn't. Several beers later, the scenes from his imaginary world had become facts in his mind. His mood sank from hurt to loathing. He paid his tab and left the bar.
Chapter 37
Isara looked at the clock hanging on the far wall. It was after three and as was typical for his Friday afternoons no appointments were scheduled for the rest of the day. He closed the open folder and stacked it on the corner of the desk with the others. Wasana would make sure the folders were delivered to the appropriate people for follow-up.
He gazed around the office. It was stark to the point of ugliness. The room had been stripped bare two weeks earlier in anticipation of a makeover that was behind schedule. His new office would be a combination of old favorites, new furniture, and his annual rotation of Thai paintings. He truly missed some of the decorations, such as the large wooden elephants that stood constant guard at either side of his desk. He had bought them the first day he opened for business and believed they brought him good luck. They were Pajeeka's favorites, too.
Pajeeka! He had been trying not to think about her, but it hadn't been working. It was like his mind found reasons to dredge her to the forefront every hour or so. She had been gone for almost a week and hadn't yet checked in. He wondered if sending her to Pattaya had been such a good idea. He knew her background with the drugs, alcohol, and prostitution. Pattaya was the last place she needed to be—the temptations might be more than she could handle. He shook the thought from his head. Pajeeka was a strong-willed woman and she had walked away from that life on her own once already; she wouldn't backslide. He dismissed the whole idea.
He picked up the stack of folders and left his office. He paused at Wasana's desk long enough to instruct her who should get what file, and then continued his way to the elevator. Wasana caught up with him just before he stepped inside the lift.
"You have a phone call. It's Pajeeka. I know you want to talk to her."
Isara hurried back to his office. "Hello," he said into the phone. "Where have you been? What took you so long to contact me?"
Pajeeka's sighed noisily. "The impossible is never easy. Sometimes it takes longer than anyone would expect. And I am fine, thank you for asking."
Isara sighed back. "It's just that I was worried about you. Have you had any luck?"
"I have found the woman named Anya. She has agreed to meet you tomorrow afternoon. I'm sorry for such short notice, but she was hard to find, and getting her to meet with you was almost impossible. When I mentioned your name, she looked like she had seen a ghost. What is that all about?"
Isara took a second to compose his response. He understood her prying, but it annoyed him nonetheless. "I already told you it's personal. Did you find the woman named Nuang? Was she with Anya?"
"No, I haven't seen Nuang. If she is in Pattaya, she isn't with Anya. Maybe her bus ticket to Pattaya was nothing but a ruse to fool anyone who might come looking for her. I think she's smart enough to invent a trick like that. I assume you will be here tomorrow?"
He glanced at his watch. It was too late to catch a flight, but he could be there by midnight if he went by car and if he didn't run into any traffic delays. "Reserve me a room at the Royal Cliff, and one for my driver at the hotel where you're staying."
"Yes sir," she answered smartly, a touch of sarcasm in her voice. She hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
He knew from her tone that she resented his double standard with the hotels, but he had an image to maintain. She knew that as well as anyone.
He stopped at Wasana's desk. "Call my driver and tell him to go home and pack for a short holiday. Have him meet me at my house in thirty minutes."
"Will you be gone long? Where are you going?" Wasana asked, and then quickly added to cover her nosiness. "In case I need to reach you."
"You can call me on my cell phone. If that doesn't work, you can reach me at the Royal Cliff in Pattaya. I should be back by Monday."
"Do you need me to pull any client files?"
Isara frowned at her left-handed prying. "This is personal business."
"I'll call your driver right away."
Isara rode the elevator to street level and took a taxi home.
Anya! He had hoped that Nuang might have gone to Anya’s house. Clearly it had been a false hope. He suspected that the missing wooden elephants had affected his intuitive skills. Isara was not a superstitious man, but he did believe in the elephants.
Isara wondered if his self-serving interference amounted to stepping into a nest of scorpions better left alone. Was he concerning himself with things that really didn't matter to anyone except himself? Would his personal prying hurt others just so his family pride might be saved? He would forget the whole thing and leave it alone, except for Laht being involved with that woman Somjit, who was involved with Nuang, who was involved with Surat, the son of Anya.
He had always figured that Laht's affair with Somjit would end when he left the temple, and for a few days it had; but it didn't last. Deep inside Isara knew it would turn out this way despite his hopes to the contrary.
Anya! Now that he knew Nuang wasn't with her, he had nothing to gain from meeting with the woman. He had only things to tell her, things he doubted she even wanted to know. She could tell him to go to hell as easily as she might thank him. He would find out her feelings tomorrow.
Laht and Somjit were in Phitsanulok two days before he finally convinced her that his parents would be happy to meet her and would accept her as part of their family. Meanwhile, they didn't do much except keep to themselves inside the hotel. Somjit insisted she was not feeling well, but he knew she was afraid she might see ghosts from her past if they went out. On Thursday, Laht drove to the temple alone to ask if anyone had seen or heard from Nuang. No one had.
It was late on Friday when they went to his father's office. His father never had appointments on Friday afternoons, so there would be no interruptions; it would be a good time to introduce Somjit. They arrived at four-thirty. Somjit was such a bundle of nerves that Laht took little Tippawan from her for fear that she might drop the baby. He handed her back just before they entered the office.
Wasana brightened when she saw Laht. "What a surprise! Isara didn't tell me you were coming."
"I didn't even know it myself," Laht said. "If my father isn't busy, I would like to see him for a few minutes."
"He's not here. He left over an hour ago. You can call him on his cell phone." Wasana's eyes shifted to Somjit and back.
"I'll just go to his house. I can talk to him there." He smiled toward Somjit and the baby. "Mother will want to meet my future wife, too."
Wasana shifted her gaze toward Somjit. "Future wife? Well, congratulations young lady. I have known Laht since he was a boy. You are a lucky girl." She turned back to Laht. "Your father isn't at home either. He went to Pattaya on business. He should be back by Monday."
Laht's face showed signs of both disappointment and relief. "Thank you, Wasana." He nodded toward Somjit, "I guess I will wait until Monday to tell everyone."
"You should tell your mother right away, she will be surprised and happy. Your lady is very beautiful."
"I need to tell father first. That is the polite thing to do."
Wasana sm
iled. "Then I will see you Monday morning? Your father doesn’t have any appointments until 9:30."
Laht smiled back. "Yes, Monday. By the way, her name is Somjit.” He noticed Wasana staring at little Tippawan. “We’re babysitting for a friend," he added to put her nosiness to rest.
Laht and Somjit had an early dinner at the hotel. They were back in their room by six o'clock.
Laht had been thinking since talking with Wasana. He knew his father sometimes went to Pattaya for business, but he couldn't remember a single time when he had ever gone there on a weekend. He wondered if his father had really gone to Pattaya on business, or if he had found a need for younger women in his middle age. The thought of his father having sex with someone besides his mother didn't surprise him, but it did irritate him.
Little Tippawan slept while Somjit watched TV. Laht stared at the screen without really seeing it or hearing it; his mind was still focused on his conversation with Wasana. He decided his father's trip to Pattaya was completely abnormal. Perhaps it was sexually inspired, or perhaps it wasn't. By the time they turned off the TV and the lights, he had convinced himself that his father had located Nuang but for some reason hadn't told him.
"Somjit," he whispered in the dark, "tomorrow we are going to Pattaya."
Chapter 38
Weeks had passed since Nuang and Jon had bared their most personal secrets. Their confessions had changed their relationship and it was for the better. Unspoken limits had been set and both respected them. Without the expectations of physical intimacy, they had become more comfortable in each other’s company. There was lots of warmth and laughter when they were together, and they easily became friends. Still, their words and smiles and body language churned with an undertow of desire waiting to explode.
Today was Friday which meant that she and Jon would go to a nearby German restaurant for dinner and then to a movie at the Big C. After that they would go to Bud's for ice cream. That had become their Friday night routine and Nuang enjoyed it.