The Farang Affair

by J. F. Gump

  "What about your sister Nuang. I hope she is well."

  Anan tensed despite himself. "I haven't seen her for a while, but I think she's okay."

  "That's good. Next time you talk to her, tell her I said hello."

  "Sure, I will tell her. She will be pleased to know you asked about her. By the way, I have found some things that belonged to my sister Math. If you want, I will bring them to you. I know you loved my sister. What I found are more your memories than mine."

  Mike had images of unsent love letters, photos, and other bits of sentimentality valuable only to him. "What did you find?"

  Anan leaned forward and began his tale of lies. "Last month I was at my mother's house in Phitsanulok. I found a diary hidden in my brother's room. It belonged to Math. I am embarrassed to say this, but I read what she wrote. I think it was meant to be private."

  Mike's eyes opened wide. "Math kept a diary? She never told me. What did she write? Did she say anything about me?"

  "Yes, she did." Anan paused and sighed deep, as if not sure of what to say. "It's hard for me to say this, but my sister never loved you. She only wanted your money." His lips formed a sadistic smile as he added, "She only wanted your American money."

  Mike blinked involuntarily. Of all the things he expected Anan to say, this wasn't one of them. All of the little doubts he ever had about Math whipped through his head. Why had she loved him? Or had she ever loved him? She had been beautiful and half his age. She could have had any man she wanted yet she had picked him. For his money? Not likely! "You're lying."

  Anan leaned away. They were unpredictable animals, these farangs. He wasn't sure how the man would react to his next words. "Then why did she write it in her diary? Why would she call you names like monkey, water buffalo, and lizard? Why would Math write insulting things about you while writing loving words about her Thai fiancé? Why would she say she wanted to marry you only so she could get everything you have? I wish I were lying but I'm not. I'm ashamed of my sister."

  Mike felt his face burning. Not so much for what Anan had said, but for knowing it could be true. His ego denied it all. "I don't believe you," he said. His voice rose involuntarily.

  Anan stood from his seat. "I only wanted you to know the truth. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but I am the only one who could. You will thank me later." He took a step away. "I will bring you her diary tomorrow. Enjoy your stay in Thailand."

  Anan turned and hurried from the bar. He had hurt the farang more than he had hoped and it was good. He was bursting with pride at his performance. It was the best he had felt all day.

  Mike didn't move. He wanted to chase Anan down and thrash him, make him say he was lying, but he couldn't force his legs into motion. His left arm worked superfine as he lifted his bottle from the bar and finished it in one long swallow. For a moment he thought he would be sick but it passed quickly. He waved toward the barmaid and she brought him another beer. This one he drank slower. He let his emotions digest what Anan had said.

  Mike had heard all of the stories about Thai women taking advantage of Westerner's perceptions of love. He knew how they pretended to love lonely farangs while fleecing them of everything they had. But Math hadn't been like that, had she?

  The disease! His conversation with the boy on his flight from Detroit rippled through his thoughts. His not-so-little doubts grew to undeniable facts and he knew that Anan was telling the truth. A piece of his past that had been love turned as cold and brittle as cheap china.

  He signed for the drinks and went to his room. Suddenly he hated himself for coming back to Thailand, for thinking it could ever be the same, for imagining he was something special. Math, the woman he had once loved with all he heart, had made a fool of him. He couldn't believe he had been so gullible. She had never loved him; she had only pretended to love him so he would give her whatever she wanted. Tomorrow Anan was bringing Math's diary as proof.

  He wondered what else he would find in her diary. How many other farangs had she dangled along just to suck money from them? Somehow he knew he wasn't the only one. At that instant he crossed the thin line that divides love and hate. The transition was painful.

  When his hurt eased, it was replaced by conflicting emotions he didn't understand. His thoughts seemed crystal clear but they made no sense. On one hand he wanted to pack his clothes and head to Bangkok. On the other he wanted to hit every bar in Pattaya and act like the ugliest American anyone had ever seen.

  It took only a second to make up his mind—he would get drunk. If he felt the same way in the morning, he would tell his fat-assed boss Jess Ankrom to shove the job and then he would go back to Pittsburgh. He washed the oily sheen from his face and left the hotel.

  He stopped at the first bar he came to and ordered a beer. It went down fast. He handed the waitress a hundred baht note then went to the bar next door. There he repeated the scene before heading south.

  He kept his eyes pointed straight ahead as he passed Toy's Fun Bar. Toy's was the last place he wanted to be; he didn't want to see anyone he knew, not tonight. He caught a baht-bus south to Soi 6.

  He had walked up and down Soi 6 a thousand times, but he had stopped here only once before and that had been a long time ago. It had been the day when he had first suspected Math might be a common bar-girl. That night she had convinced him he was wrong, but now, after his conversation with Anan, he knew his instincts had been correct. The whole mess disgusted him.

  He took a seat outside of a nondescript bar and ordered a Heineken. Out of habit he lit a cigarette. His beer arrived in a styrofoam cooler and his bill in a wooden cup. He downed the beer quickly and ordered another. A smiling girl came to sit next to him and he rudely chased her away. He scowled at the others and none came close.

  After leaving the Amari Orchid lounge, Anan headed straight back to his hiding spot at the condos. He was less than halfway there when his insides went into spasms. This time it was more than a hot fullness. This time it was a gut wrenching pain accompanied by an urgent need to vomit.

  He parked his motorcycle on the sidewalk by Big C Shopping Center and ran to the public toilet. The food poisoning escaped violently from both ends of his anatomy. Each time he tried to leave, the spasms stopped him. Anan was in the toilet for a long time. He didn't know it, but he was about to miss the very events he had set into motion.

  Chapter 43

  Itta's taxi from Bangkok airport barely missed the traffic jam of the year. It was a monstrous disaster, even for Bangkok, the city of gridlock. A hard downpour followed by a steady rain had set it off. The streets flooded and the traffic snarled. Vehicles moved forward with alternating spurts of gas and brakes.

  It was only by luck that her taxi was on the southern edges of Bangkok when the rains came. The radio announced multiple accidents on the stretch of freeway she had just passed. Traffic slowed to a stop and crawl pace. It finally smoothed out when the taxi reached the far outer fringes of the city.

  It was nearly seven o'clock before she arrived in Pattaya. She had the driver take her to a hotel on Soi 6. She knew it was a dump, but it was cheap.

  Once in her room she called Anan's cell phone but got the irritating "turned off or out of area" message. She knew Anan was not out of Pattaya and not out of cell phone range. If his phone wasn't working, it was because he had intentionally turned it off or he’d forgotten to charge the battery. Whichever the case, she was annoyed. There was no way she would find Nuang without Anan's help. She wasn't sure what to do, so she did nothing. She laid on the bed and tried to relax. Every few minutes she called Anan, but he never answered.

  An hour later, she decided that Anan wasn't going to answer his phone any time soon. She knew she should stay in her room and keep trying to reach Anan, but the thought of being back in Pattaya after all these years held an irresistible attraction. Besides, she hadn't eaten since morning and she was starving.

  She remembered the sidewalk vendors who set up evening food carts on Beach Road. Their pric
es were right and no one she knew had ever become sick from eating there. The thought of food made her mouth water. She put on new makeup and left the hotel. Fifteen minutes later she was sipping on a cold Coca-Cola and waiting for her dinner.

  Beyond Beach Road the moon glimmered across the watery crests of the Gulf of Thailand. In the distance she saw the running lights of a fishing boat. She had seen this scene a hundred times before. It was as if nothing had changed. Music—Thai music—drifted to her ears. It was coming from a beer bar to the south.

  Itta relaxed and let the atmosphere engulf her. She had been gone for years, but the way she felt at the moment it could have been yesterday. The roaring motorcycles, honking baht-buses, and hordes of sweating tourists were exactly as she remembered. The pink neons, the happy music, and the scent of sea air matched her fondest memories. The lights, the sounds, and the smells that are the essence of Pattaya had not changed. Its allure rushed through her.

  When her food arrived, she gave it her undivided attention. It was delicious. She was tempted to order more but didn't. As she waited for her change, she considered what to do next. She had more than few baht in her pocket, certainly enough for a couple of drinks. It would be interesting to visit some of her old haunts.

  She didn't care about the farangs; she had had her fill of them a long time ago. But the idea that she might see faces from her past excited her and scared her at the same time. As anxious as she was to return to the Pattaya nightlife, she decided to do it slowly. She would have a drink or two at one of the quieter bars before going to Soi 2 and the places she knew best.

  As she neared the intersection of Soi 6 and Second Road she noticed a farang sitting alone at a table outside one of the bars. When she got closer, she realized she knew him. He was the man who had sat next to her on her flight from Tokyo. The same man who had said something about her family in Phitsanulok. She never thought she would see him again. Her curiosity overcame common sense and she headed in his direction.

  Chapter 44

  Pajeeka met Isara at his hotel at five o'clock as planned. She had set his meeting for six and they had plenty of time. She was miffed that he had put her up at the Amari Hotel while he stayed at the Royal Cliff, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Isara was unusually quiet as his driver steered them through the late afternoon traffic. Whatever the reason Isara had for setting up this meeting it clearly upset him. Pajeeka couldn't recall ever seeing him so tense before.

  When they arrive at Anya's house, Isara instructed Pajeeka and the driver to stay in the car while he went inside alone. The meeting lasted over two hours.

  When he finally came out of the house, his face was as expressionless as when he went in. She couldn't tell if his meeting had been good or bad. She wanted to ask but didn't. Whatever this was all about, it was none of her business. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her. If he didn't tell her, she would find out on her own. She was good at that sort of stuff.

  On their way back go the hotel, Isara invited her to dinner.

  "Thank you, but I cannot. I want to see a few old friends—if they are still here that is."

  "Stay out of trouble," he said, his tone demanding, his expression fatherly.

  "Don't worry about me," she smiled. "Pattaya is like my second home."

  "I know," Isara sighed. "That's what worries me."

  Pajeeka smiled. "I'm sorry I can't have dinner with you, but I'll let you buy me breakfast in the morning." She turned to the driver, "I’ll get out here." The driver braked to a stop, and she slid from the car.

  Pajeeka waited until Isara was out of sight before heading toward the bars at Soi 8.

  She wandered through the maze of smiling ladies and drinking farangs hoping to see any of her old friends. Tonight was no different than the night before, or the night before that. Everyone she had ever known from her rowdy days at Soi 8 was gone. So were many of the bars, torn down now to make way for a new hotel. She supposed it was some farang's idea of progress. She caught a baht-bus north toward her hotel.

  Chapter 45

  Nong had been in Pattaya for over two months—since the night he had assaulted Somjit. Sometimes he wondered if Somjit and the baby had survived his beating. He thought about that more than he wanted, but he didn’t let it bother him much. It had been her fault for getting pregnant in the first place.

  He had been staying with a man he had known since their school days. His friend had lived in Pattaya for nearly two years and knew everything about the city. He worked as a dancer at one of the "boys clubs". Nong couldn't understand why anyone would want to make a living letting some farang stick a prick in their mouth or other places it didn’t belong.

  Nong had been desperate when he arrived in Pattaya, but he hadn't been that desperate. On the other hand his friend had contacts that Nong understood very well—yaba and ganja, speed and pot. Within a few days of arriving in Pattaya, Nong was making a living peddling drugs to the bar-girls and farangs. It was easy compared to what his friend did to make money.

  Nong was on cloud nine this evening. He had just sold 15 grams of ganja and ten yaba pills to a farang for five times what he had paid. He had even smoked a ganja cigarette with the man. His head buzzed high, his pockets were full, and he was thirsty. A cold Singha beer would taste real good.

  He signaled the baht-bus driver to stop at the small bar complex on the right. He crossed Second Road and took a seat at a place called Music Lovers. There was one Thai woman and a few farangs sitting at the bar, but they didn't acknowledge his arrival. In fact, no one at the bar noticed his arrival, not even the barmaids. They were too busy flirting with the foreigners. His drug-high shifted to anger as the seconds ticked past without service. Finally he shouted at one of the girls. He ordered a beer when she looked at him.

  The farangs turned, stared at him briefly, and then continued their conversations with the girls.

  It was been a minor incident in the scheme of his world, but it had ruined his good mood. He drank the beer fast hoping to recapture his euphoria from a moment before. It didn't work. The alcohol only intensified his frustration. He searched his pockets and found a yaba pill. He downed it with a swallow of beer and waited for happiness.

  In a while, he decided that he needed something stronger to lift his mood and he wouldn't find it here. He decided to leave as soon as he finished his beer.

  Chapter 46

  The sun had set by the time Surat arrived in Pattaya. He had never been to Pattaya and didn't have a clue where Second Road was, much less a place called the Alcazar Show. He followed a sign pointing toward Beach Road. He knew Pattaya was a seaside resort and figured that was the direction he needed to go.

  A minute later he maneuvered his taxi through a busy traffic circle. Ahead he could see water. In all his life, he had never seen the ocean. The closest he'd ever been to the Gulf of Thailand was downtown Bangkok.

  He pulled to the edge of the street and stared at the dark expanse of water to his right. Moonlight glimmered across the low waves. In the distance, lights bobbed across the water. A boat, he imagined.

  Surat left the car, crossed the street, and stopped at the edge of the sand. The air lay stagnant. Every picture he had ever seen of the beach clearly showed the trees swaying in the breeze, but typical of his luck he had come to Pattaya on the only day out of hundreds when the wind didn't blow.

  He slipped his cell phone from his belt and called Anan. He got a recording saying it was either turned off or out of range. Surat sighed, irritated. Anan had told him to call when he arrived, but the lizard didn't even have the courtesy to leave his phone turned on.

  It crossed his mind that Anan had played a trick on him. Maybe he hadn't found Nuang at all. The thought chafed at his already worn nerves. He replayed his conversation with Nui in Phitsanulok. If the old woman knew anything about Anan finding Nuang, she hadn't let it show. Surely Anan would have called Nui if no one else.

  The more he thought the more he was convin
ced that Anan had been lying. Before long he felt stupid for coming to Pattaya in the first place. There was no Nuang, no baby, or anything else for him here. Anan had cast the bait, and like a fool he had swallowed its hook, line, and sinker. Anan was probably someplace drinking a beer and laughing his ass off.

  What else had Anan said? Come to the condos on Second Road or something like that. It was possible that Anan had trouble with his phone. Surat decided he would go to the condos if he could find them. If Anan wasn't there, he would track him down and teach him a thing or two about lying to people.

  He took one last glimpse at the ocean and then turned away from the beach. A couple of motorcycle taxi drivers were parked at the curb. He walked over to them.

  "Excuse me. I am looking for the condos on Second Road, the ones just south of the Alcazar Show. I have never been to Pattaya before and have no idea where I’m going. Can either of you help?"

  "Do you have a cigarette?" one of the boys asked.

  "I don't smoke," Surat answered. "But if you will give me directions, I will buy you a whole pack." He pulled sixty baht from his pocket.

  The directions the boys gave were easy. The condos were on Second Road, just beyond Soi 6, behind some beer bars on the right. If he passed the hospital or the Big C, he had gone too far. If he came to a traffic circle, he should turn around and backtrack. It seemed easy enough. If the boys weren't lying, he would be there in less than ten minutes. Surat handed over the money, returned to his taxi, and drove south.

  He turned left on Pattaya Klang and then left again on Second Road.

  As he moved up the street he saw a bar complex but didn't see any condos behind it. He figured it wasn't the place he was looking for. A second later he passed the hospital and the Big C. He grunted with annoyance. He would turn around at the traffic circle like the boys suggested.

  A minute later he was edging his way around the same roundabout he had passed on his way into Pattaya. As he exited the circle heading south, he saw the Toyota he had lost in Bangkok, the one with the woman and the man and Nuang’s baby. Surely this was no coincidence. Something was going on and he was going find out what. It was time to bring this whole crazy affair to an end. He pulled in behind the Toyota.