The Beach

'We were there for six weeks. Would have stayed longer but we ran out of cash. Had to get back to Thailand to pick up a fuckin' wire.'

'Good scene,' the first agreed. 'Could have stayed six months.'

'Could have stayed six years.'

I looked back to the sea. It was a familiar enough exchange, I thought to myself, and not worth tuning in to. But then I found that I couldn't tune it out. It wasn't the volume of their chattering; I was intrigued that the guy had been talking about Kampuchea. I wondered if this was the new term for Cambodia.

Without thinking it over any more than that, I leant towards them. 'Hey,' I said. 'Out of interest, why do you call Cambodia Kampuchea?'

All four faces looked at me.

'I mean,' I continued, 'it's Cambodia, right?'

The second Aussie shook his head, not like he was disagreeing with me, like he was trying to figure out who I was.

'It's Cambodia, right?' I repeated, in case he hadn't heard me.

'Kampuchea. I've just been there.'

I got up and walked over. 'But called Kampuchea by who?'

'Cambodians.'

'Not Kampucheans, then.'

He frowned. 'What?'

'I'm just interested to hear how you picked up the word «Kampuchea».'

'Mate,' the first Aussie interrupted, 'why does it matter what we call Kampuchea?'

'It isn't that it matters. I was just interested because I thought Kampuchea was a Khmer Rouge name. I mean, I'm probably wrong. Maybe it's just the old-fashioned name for Cambodia, but…'

The sentence trailed off. I was suddenly aware that all four of them were looking at me as though they thought I was insane. I smiled uncertainly. 'It isn't a big deal… I was interested, that's all… Kampuchea… It sounded strange…'

Silence.

I began to feel myself blushing. I knew I'd made some kind of faux pas but I didn't know what it might be. With my smile getting increasingly desperate I tried to explain myself better, but my confusion and nervousness only made things worse. 'I was just sitting over there and you said «Kampuchea», which I thought was a Khmer Rouge name, but you also used the old name of Ho Chi Minh City… Saigon… Not that I'm making a parallel between the VC and the Khmer Rouge, obviously… but…'

'So what?'

This was a fair point. I considered it for a couple of seconds, then said, 'So nothing, I guess…'

'Then why are you bothering us, mate?'

I couldn't think what to say. I shrugged awkwardly and turned to walk back to my shopping bag, and behind me I heard one of them mutter, 'Another fuckin' space-head. Can't move for them, man.' The comment made my ears burn and the tips of my fingers tingle. I hadn't had that feeling since I was a little kid.

When I sat back down I felt terrible. My good mood was completely gone. I couldn't understand what I'd said that was so wrong. All I'd been doing was joining in their conversation, which didn't seem like such a terrible thing to do. It was the beach and the World, I decided coldly. My beach, where you could walk into a conversation at any time between anybody, and the World, where you couldn't.

A few minutes later I got up to go. I'd noticed that their talking had become quieter and I had the miserable feeling that they were talking about me. I found a suitably secluded palm tree a short way up the beach and settled beneath it. I'd arranged to meet Jed at seven, back at the cafe where we'd eaten lunch, so I still had a few hours to kill. Too many hours. The wait was beginning to feel like it might be an ordeal.

I chain-smoked two and a half cigarettes. I wanted to chain-smoke three, or even more, but the third gave me a five-minute coughing fit. Reluctantly I stubbed it out and pushed it into the sand.

My embarrassment had turned quickly to anger. Before I'd been looking at Hat Rin with a detached curiosity, and now I was looking at it with hatred. I could sense shit all around me; Thais smiling like sharks, and careless hedonism, too diligently pursued to ring true. Most of all, I could pick up the scent of decay. It hung over Hat Rin like the sandflies that hung over the sunbathers, zoning in on the smell of sweat and sweet tanning lotion. The serious travellers had already moved on to the next island in the chain, the intermediate travellers were wondering where all the life had gone, and the tourist hordes were ready to descend on their freshly beaten track.

For the first time I understood the true preciousness of our hidden beach. To imagine Hat Rin's fate unfolding in the lagoon made my blood run cold. I began scanning the dark bodies that lounged around me as if I were photographing the enemy, familiarizing myself with the images, filing them away. Occasionally couples walked near me and I caught snatches of their conversations. I must have heard twenty different accents and languages. Most I didn't understand, but they all sounded like threats.

Time dragged with only these thoughts for company, so when my eyes grew heavy I let them close. The heat and the day's early start had caught up with me. An afternoon siesta would be a welcome retreat.

Blame

The music started up at eight, which was lucky, or I might have slept until midnight. Up and down the beach, four or five different sound systems blasted out, each with its own agenda. I could only hear two clearly, the ones on either side of me, but all the bass lines seemed to be vibrating through my head. Swearing and rubbing the daze out of my eyes, I jumped up and ran back down the beach to the cafe.

The cafe was now packed with people but I spotted Jed immediately. He was by the same table we'd sat at earlier. He had a bottle of beer in his hands and was looking extremely pissed off.

'Where the fuck have you been?' he said angrily, when I sat beside him. 'I've been waiting.'

'I'm sorry,' I replied. 'I fell asleep… I've had a bad day.'

'You did, huh? Well I'll just bet it wasn't a patch on mine.'

'Why, what happened? Didn't you get the rice?'

'I got the rice, Richard. Don't worry about that.'

I looked at him hard. There was a worrying note of menace in his voice. 'What then?'

'You tell me.'

'Tell you…?'

'About two Yanks.'

'Two Yanks?'

Jed took a huge gulp of beer. 'Two Yanks I heard talking about a place called Eden in the marine park.'

'…Oh shit.'

'They know you, Richard. They used your name. And they've got a map.' He squeezed his eyes shut like he was fighting to keep control of his temper. 'A fucking map, Richard! They were showing it to some Germans! And who knows who else has seen it?'

I shook my head. I was feeling dazed. '…I'd forgotten… I'd…'

'Who are they?'

'Jed, wait. You don't understand. I didn't tell them about the beach. They told me. They already knew about it.'

He put his bottle on the table with a thump. 'Who are they?'

'…Zeph and Sammy. I met them on Ko Samui.'

'Go on.'

'They were just these two guys in the hut next to mine. We spent some time together, and the night before we were going to leave for Phelong they started talking about the beach.'

'Unprompted?'

'Yes! Of course!'

'So you drew them a map.'

'No! I didn't say a thing, Jed! None of us did.'

'Then where did the map come from?'

'The next morning… I drew it and pushed it under their door…' I pulled out a cigarette and tried to light it. My hands shook badly and it took me three attempts.

'Why?'

'I was worried!'

'You just drew them the map? They didn't even ask for it!'

'I didn't know if the beach really existed. We could have been aiming at nowhere. I had to tell someone where we were going in case something went wrong.'

'What could go wrong?'