She reached down and grabbed my balls, looked me in the eyes… let go…
then continued walking. We walked past the temple and across the road to the grassy banks of The Kong.
Three of her friends appeared to be waiting outside a restaurant. It was obvious I’d be picking up the check. If I refused to go along with her plan, I’d embarrass Painin and she’d be furious.
One of Painin’s friends—Noi the Freeloader—was slouched in a plastic chair, smiling in the sunshine. The sight of her made me queasy and flyblown.
On this occasion—quite like the first time I’d met her—she failed to acknowledge me. She quickly grabbed Painin by the elbow, turned her back and began devolving her plan.
From the moment I met Noi, I was aware she was young and foolish, but I was forced to tolerate her. The previous time we’d met she rolled up at a restaurant Painin and I were eating at as if it was her right to be there and my sole purpose was to pick up the bill. It made me sad to think Noi was poisoning Painin with her schemes. Every time I looked at her, she sprayed a sickly green film across my skin.
‘You okay, Noi?’ I asked, best I could.
She raised her eyebrows as if to say Fuck off loser—I’m just here for the freebee,ducked her head to avoid a pot plant and catapulted herself inside. Painin’s other friends—two tall, tanned sisters whom I’d never met—appeared friendly. We sat down at a table—Painin and Noi ordering food—and before I knew it, a banquet appeared. As the older sister and I spoke, she gave me the feeling she felt sorry for me, politely refilling my glass while Noi and Painin exchanged glances.
‘I’m going home tomorrow. My father sick. I need you give money.’
I just played along, but what I was really thinking was Come on, Painin… you’re smarter than that.
‘Really… you’re going back to your village? How about I come with you so I can meet your family?’
Noi nearly choked on a piece of pork that was swirling about her mouth and rushed to the toilet. The two sisters looked into their drinks, slightly ashamed. I took Painin by the hand and led her into the sunshine.
What the fuck was I doing? Her shoes were too small and her toes hung out like monkey digits. Her skirt was too tight and when she sat, a few flab rolls appeared. But they weren’t ugly flab rolls and her toes appeared primal and sexual. She’d run a slight wave through her hair and sported a new pair of goofy aviators. No matter how much shite she spun, no matter how many financial demands, I couldn’t help being attracted to her. I kept telling myself she was a good girl at heart and she could change if I got her away from sneaky friends like Noi the Freeloader.
We walked back to the restaurant and said goodbye to Noi and the two tall tanned sisters. Her motorbike was parked next to a security guard and it looked shinier than the last time I’d seen it. We skidded along the gravel, slowly hiccupped through the streets and made our way back to my bungalow.
Painin threw herself on the bed with her knees up and her peach-coloured knickers showing, fanning her legs like the wings of a butterfly.
I kissed a kneecap and stepped into the shower to wash the journey’s sweat from my skin.
When I returned, she had her knickers off and was smiling. I leapt on the bed and began kissing her neck—soft sweet stamens of a spider orchid—then dragged my tongue to the outskirts of her belly and got lost in the trees.
She laid back, smiling—devil in the eyes, lips quivering—and fiddled with her new phone. A song played and it was modern and slick—not exactly romantic—but full of the latest guitar sounds with a heavy bass beat.
I lost consciousness. My spirit hovered. I disappeared inside the vines of a deserted temple and knelt at the dripping feet of an ancient mollusk. I collapsed beside her as orange swamp gas exuded from the pores of my skin.
I was born again: immortal-everything perfect-reality a ghost without a name.
Painin stood, smiled and walked into the bathroom, lathered herself in soap and let the water run hard. I picked up my guitar and a sense of weightlessness radiated throughout my body as I sat naked on the side of the bed with my testicles dangling free. A few minutes passed and Painin was out of the bathroom, putting her clothes on.
‘Okay, you give money now. Two thousand baht.’
‘What are you talking about? Where are you going?’
‘I go work. You want see me again, you give money!’
‘What?’
‘Yes. You give money—NOW!’
‘Look, Painin,’ I said, knowing she wasn’t playing around, ‘I came to Laos because I wanted to be with you as your boyfriend, not your customer!
I already told you I’ll try and help with money, but this is crazy! Why are you doing this? I love you.’
‘You think I like man? I not like any man. Many men want me, but I not care! You give two thousand baht or I break this,’ she said, picking up my guitar tuner and looking at me with sharpened eyes.
‘I can’t! It’s not right.’
Painin gave me one last look of disgust and threw my guitar tuner against the floor. It skidded towards the door and smashed against the wall.
‘You not give money, I tell police! I tell my friend come fight you.’
Tears began to well up as her face flushed. I held her eyes and pleaded with her to calm down.
‘Please, Painin,’ I whimpered. ‘I love you. I want to build a family with you. I want to help, but it can’t be like this…’
‘Don’t say anything.’
She got to her feet and walked out, leaving the door open. My head spun, my heart danced. I sat on the corner of the bed with my head between my hands and stared across the room.
Dumped… first time in seven years.
A strange constrictive pain tore away at my ribs. Tears splashed between my toes, soaking slow into the dirty wooden floor. I kept staring out the window. That’s it… the last time I’ll ever see her. FUCK! How could she dump me?
I decided to get arseholed, pulled out my bag of aunty and fired it up on a freshly punctured can bong. Gorgeous grey smoke raced down my gullet and sat inside my lungs. When I was good and ready, I pushed it out against the closed window and watched it cloud over my pathetic reflection.
The guy behind the reception desk was happy to let me change to another room. I threw my bag inside and walked into the street.
BIG LOVE
Chris Mooney-Singh, South Korea
And so I was left there sitting opposite June. ‘Well, this is strangest business trip I’ve been on,’ I said.
‘I told you Gerald, you are on holiday. Don’t worry. Mr Wang will sign your paperwork before you leave.’
‘What do you know about my paperwork?’ I queried.
‘He makes. You buy. Right? Look, I don’t know, Gerald. Mr Wang has many business interests all over Asia. But I have known Mr Wang for a long time and known how he works with people. This is his style when he likes someone. He likes you.’
I must admit I had felt flattered or relieved hearing that, but still I still had my distrusting Singaporean guard up.
Instead I said, ‘Hmmm… really.’
‘Look, Gerald, relax! Enjoy yourself. Is that so hard?’ she laughed this time with a feeling of tired wisdom. ‘Look, I will tell you straight, Gerald.
Mr Wang has been good to me over the years. Yes, there is love there, but he also lets me be myself. I am haenyo, after all , under all this lard.’ She laughed more freely, then reached across and squeezed my hand, asking, ‘Gerald, tell me the truth. So do you like me a little bit? Or am I just the boss’ fat girl you have to spend some time with?’