Bangkok Boy (12 page)

Had I been in those women’s shoes, I’d never have let anyone do such demeaning things to me. Then again, I shouldn’t have been the one doing it to them.

It’s very hard for me to confess to any of this, but I need to unburden myself. I have to make amends for the life I’ve led. After all, being in hospital, I have had to let go of all remaining shreds of dignity. The nurses change my bedpan daily; I am almost naked, and my body is covered in dark, ugly welts. How could I possibly consider myself superior to the actresses in those movies now? I am suffering for the bad deeds of my past. I’m not even sure if they should feature in this book, but I can’t turn back the clock. I can’t undo what I’ve done; I can only compensate for it with honesty. So while we are on the topic I would like to clearly state that not every Thai would stoop to such low levels for money, not even those who work in the sex industry. Many people decided against working for Erik when they found out what would be involved. Of course, I would walk away if I was ever asked to do such things again. There are good and bad people in every society irrespective of how civilised any of them purport to be. The fact is that Erik exploited the women in his movies—he used their desperation to line his pockets.

Just as my patience with Thomas was beginning to wear thin, I found another patron—or rather, he found me. He turned out to be one of the kindest and most generous people I’ve ever met.

I was dancing on the stage one night when I noticed a smart-looking man staring at me. I thought he was Thai, but when I later introduced myself I discovered he was Chinese. He introduced himself as Lau, a Taiwanese hailing from Tainan City. I generally attracted
farang
men so was surprised when Lau expressed an interest in me. He was slim, fair-skinned, and his mid-length hair was stylish. He had movie-star looks, which would’ve driven Thai women crazy, and he didn’t project a gay attitude at all. Unlike my usual clients, he was my age, and stood almost six feet tall, which is unusual for an Asian man. I boldly told him I liked him very much and wanted to go out with him. He immediately agreed, and without further ado we left for his office/apartment in Ratchadaphisek.

From that night on, Lau became my long-term benefactor and dearest friend. Of course, when I later moved in with him I was careful not to mention Nuan, let alone my son. Having netted such a wonderful catch, I promptly deserted the miserly Thomas. Nuan and Chuan continued to live in the room I rented for them and I visited them often.

In time, I discovered that Lau had his own patron/lover—a fellow countryman and a very wealthy businessman named Wu. The plot of our little love triangle was full of intrigue and deception. Wu covered up his illicit affair with Lau by hiring him as a manager to oversee the automobile-part factories he owned in Thailand. In a way, Lau and I were holding down similar jobs, but over all, Lau definitely took a higher road in life. Wu sent his lover overseas so that he could enjoy his little secret whenever he felt like it, without the threat of exposure.

Unlike me, Lau actually worked. He genuinely wanted Wu’s enterprise to succeed and he employed four Thais to help him. I met Wu during one of his trips to check on the business and, of course, his lover. He was similar to me in stature, but was a little overweight and had thinning hair. But what he lacked in looks he made up for in style as he drove around in his sleek Porsche. He’d made a fortune exporting car parts to dealers in the USA. Wu appeared to be a business mentor to Lau, and Lau, in turn, assumed the role of devoted and faithful employee. I was the only person privy to the true nature of their relationship. Wu had no idea I was involved with Lau; he thought I was merely a local worker.

Lau didn’t love Wu but he couldn’t resist the luxuries and comforts that came with the relationship. Except for the fact that I was attracted to Lau, my feelings for him followed the same pattern. Aside from covering my daily expenses, Lau paid me a handsome allowance of 50,000 baht a month. I could only imagine how much Wu paid him. Lau was a wonderful person and a great companion but I couldn’t commit to him as a full-time lover—my heart just wasn’t in it. I didn’t tell him my true feelings because I needed his money, so I silently continued to play the game just as he did with Wu. I asked him why he liked me so much—I was no longer the youthful go-go boy, and there were countless other good-looking gay boys who would’ve worshipped Lau if given the chance. He could have had anyone he wanted. Lau assured me that he didn’t want anyone else—I was his type and he loved me. I’d believed beauty was one of the most desired qualities a person could possess—more than goodness even, and I’d often neglected the inside in favour of bettering the outside. So Lau amazed me by his answer.

Lau lavished both time and attention on me and was a faithful lover. My lack of self-esteem prevented me from realising that Lau considered me his equal. I wasn’t just a boy toy to be discarded when a new-and-improved model came along. In many ways, I felt undeserving of such respect and affection. Yet I freely took his goodies without any qualms. When mobile phones were still uncommon in Thailand he bought me a latest high-tech one from Taiwan. I rushed straight to the bar, holding the phone aloft like a trophy for all the other go-go boys to admire.

I regularly found ways to go see Nuan and Chuan and figured that sooner or later Lau would start asking questions. I pre-empted a nasty situation and told him Nuan was my cousin, having been abandoned by her husband during her pregnancy. She’d been left to raise their small child on her own so I asked Lau to show kindness towards them by paying the rent on her room and he gladly agreed. When I introduced Nuan to Lau they got along very well and, as I’d hoped, Lau asked them to come live with us. This made life a lot easier for me, as it meant I no longer had to travel back and forth between Lau’s apartment and the room in Bonkai.

In Lau’s presence, I acted the role of Nuan’s older cousin. But unbeknownst to him, I regularly slept with her. Nuan, on the other hand, was a willing accomplice in our charade. It’s hard to believe that Lau never once questioned the true nature of my relationship with Nuan—perhaps he suspected something, but was happy to act dumb by playing along. I’d again promised Nuan I’d find an alternative job before Chuan was old enough to understand what I did for a living. So I asked Lau for money to open up a clothing stall. Nuan and I travelled to Prathunam together to buy wholesale T-shirts, which would then be sold on to tourists at marked-up prices. We set up a makeshift stall near the Surawong end of Patpong and were initially making a profit of about 1,000-2,000 baht a day. We opened early in the evening and worked late into the night when the tourists came out to play. Nuan was very happy to mind the stall; she brought Chuan with her, and he would sleep on a small makeshift bed while she worked. She was thrilled, as she’d always dreamed of running her own business. We earned a nice profit and were happy with our success. When she wasn’t working at the stall, Nuan cleaned Lau’s apartment and took care of other household duties. Lau thought of Nuan as both a friend and a housemaid. We were a happy bunch indeed.

Unfortunately, as the pressure of providing for my family eased, my big-headedness grew. Greed got the better of me once again as I’d found a goose whose golden eggs both lined my pocket and fed my ego. I always had ten thousand baht on me at any given time and stupidly, I thought I could easily double it through gambling. I wasn’t worried that gambling is a crime in Thailand for, at the time, gambling houses weren’t raided very often. The owners paid huge kickbacks every month to local police, which was enough to persuade the law to turn a blind eye.

During my first few ventures into gambling dens, I miraculously managed to come away with an extraordinary profit. I even shared some of my winnings with Lau as a way of thanking him. I was sure he’d be happy, but instead he warned me gravely against returning to the dens. He thought that in the long run they would bring only misery. I didn’t listen and, as if cursed by his disapproval, started on a losing streak that continued from that day on. I returned home nightly to be greeted by Lau’s disappointed looks, leaving me feeling more frustrated. Some nights I would lose everything and even accrue debt, which meant that I’d have to call Lau to bail me out. When my debts began to accumulate, I ransacked the apartment, stole as many valuables as I could carry and headed to a pawnshop. I took mobile phones, digital cameras, and other valuables that added up to large amount of money.

Lau must have been shocked—even appalled, when he realised what I’d done, but oddly enough he never confronted me. He spoke to Nuan instead. One day, she caught me red-handed putting Lau’s mobile phone in my pocket and ordered me to put it back immediately. She then commented that she hadn’t seen me using the mobile phone Lau had given me in quite a long time. I gave her a feeble excuse about loaning it to a friend and that I was only borrowing Lau’s for the time being. She didn’t believe me. So she searched my wallet and found a receipt from the pawnshop that proved I’d actually pawned the phone a week earlier. Nuan was furious and warned me not to mess things up when we were doing so well. She reminded me that I should be grateful to have a generous patron like Lau and not take him for granted. Instead of feeling ashamed at this rebuke, I just became angry. She’d been giving out to me a lot lately about all kinds of issues so I simply ignored her protests. I put Lau’s phone back in my pocket and cursed her on my way out the door. She warned Lau against storing valuables in the house and ridiculed me in front of him by asking if I had the nerve to carry the refrigerator to the pawnshop. I felt as if they were ganging up on me and I hated it.

The fact that Nuan had a close ally in Lau made her more assertive and confrontational with me. So my response was to drink and gamble all the more. It was easy to do so when I didn’t have to worry about making ends meet—Lau took care of that. Nuan and I began arguing frequently and my anger at her began to escalate into violence. I felt that I’d always been a good provider and that she shouldn’t begrudge me a few pleasures. I was simply blind to the fact that it was actually Lau who was the provider now and not me. Once again in my life, I felt my masculinity slipping away.

CHAPTER 12

While still living with Lau, I met a couple from Hong Kong. They asked me to call them by their English names, Tony and Anna. The second they entered the bar, I was struck by Anna’s beauty. At first glance, her eyes gave me the impression that she was timid; but a closer look revealed that there were flames of unfulfilled desire burning brightly behind the shy veneer. When her pouty lips broke into a smile, the room would light up. So I immediately set about catching her attention. Not only did I want to boast about her to my fellow go-go boys, but I also wanted to take revenge on Nuan. I felt emasculated by her constant nagging and thought that by sleeping with Anna I could reassert my masculinity.

I removed my underwear, stroked my penis until it became hard, and then used a tied condom to engorge it further. As I began dancing, I positioned myself near Tony and Anna in an effort to make eye contact with her. She smiled shyly as I gyrated my body in order to tantalise her. She lent over and whispered something to Tony, her overweight, middle-aged husband. Patience was my trump card. I waited until I was sure that I’d secured Anna’s interest before approaching Tony. I figured they were no different from any of the other couples I’d encountered—another husband looking for a bar boy to pleasure his wife. We made small talk for a few minutes and then I was pleasantly surprised when Tony tipped me 500 baht. I’d done next to nothing to earn such a generous handout.

He then lent towards me and said, ‘Tomorrow we come back and go enjoy? You massage?’

I assured him I did, knowing full well what he was implying. I could tell it was their first time hiring an additional lover, and I presumed they were buying themselves some time to talk about it before making a definite decision. I hoped they’d return, but suspected they might change their mind. True to their word though, they returned the following night. So I approached them with a big smile and
wai
.

Tony wasted no time. ‘Everything okay? Can you go with us? You go give me and my wife massage?’

Anna gave me a sheepish smile from behind Tony’s back. We all knew that a massage was the very least they were expecting from me.

I invited them into the bar and we sat down on a sofa, with me awkwardly seated between them. I assumed I’d need to help them relax a little before the night’s activities began, but was taken by surprise when Anna’s hand crept into my skimpy underwear and began playing with my penis. Meanwhile, Tony looked on approvingly. I knew then that I’d definitely be having sex with Anna. I’d never slept with such a beautiful Chinese lady but had always fantasised about it. Now I was about to fulfil this fantasy and even get paid for it. Had I met Anna outside of the bar, I’d gladly have paid her to sleep with me. Not all Asian women appeal to me—especially if they are stubby, short-legged, and have no bottom. On the other hand, I adore Western women, who I find sexy, open, and most importantly, they treat me as an equal. I would gladly sleep with them for free. Anna was just as appealing, if not more so, than the white girls I fantasised about. I couldn’t believe my luck that night in the bar.

When we arrived at their room we got straight down to business. Tony asked if I’d like to take a shower first and I hastily agreed. Anna did likewise. Tony was the last to wash up. Before he went into the bathroom he turned to me and said, ‘You massage my wife now?’ I began to slowly massage her as Tony exited the room. Anna was face-down on the bed as I lathered my hands in oil and began slowly kneading the muscles in her shoulders, back and buttocks, while blowing gently on her delicate skin. She spread her legs, allowing me to slip my hands between the cheeks of her buttocks. I eased my fingertips into her vagina and began slowly stimulating her. She was already moist, so I gently turned her over and began to run my tongue and hands all over her body. Not one inch of her gorgeous silken torso was left wanting, including her musky-scented nether region. She purred with pleasure as I began pleasing her with my tongue and fingers when Tony came from the shower. He walked over to the nightstand and retrieved a condom. After handing it to me he commanded, ‘Make her happy.’ I slid the condom on and entered her with a glorious thrust.

Anna cried out loudly as her whole body shuddered with pleasure. I continued ecstatically as she murmured something to Tony who translated that I was doing a great job. I’d been thrusting into her for some time before Tony helped us change positions. I stood up and Anna wrapped her legs and arms around me while Tony supported her back. He kissed and caressed her while I continued to pleasure her. Anna’s eyes remained closed the entire time, as if she was lost in some erotic reverie. Sweat formed on her face as she rasped and bit her bottom lip sensually.

We climaxed simultaneously then collapsed on the bed, exhausted but deeply satisfied. No one was as content as me though. In a normal everyday scenario, I’d probably be killed for having sex with someone’s wife, but here I’d been encouraged to do so . . . and was even paid for it. Life as a go-go boy is strange indeed.

I wanted to stay on and please them further, but the party was over. Tony picked up his wallet and counted out five one-thousand baht notes. Less than an hour had passed since I’d first stimulated Anna. In jest I kissed the bank notes, feeling like the luckiest man on earth. Before I excused myself, Tony turned to me and said, ‘You come back here at 5pm tomorrow.’

I was overjoyed. Not only had I just been paid for sleeping with a beautiful woman, but I was being invited to do it all over again. This kind of rendezvous was to continue throughout their stay in Bangkok.

When the time came for Tony and Anna to fly home to their three children, Tony gave me his mobile number so we could meet up next time they came to Bangkok. They seemed content with my services. Tony told me he was willing to do anything to make Anna happy. Judging by the size of Tony’s manhood, sexual pleasure was something he wasn’t quite able to provide for her. Tony and Anna were the first two clients I ever really looked forward to encountering again. Each time we slept together, I wanted to win Anna over with my performance. I pulled out all the stops. I thought that I was a valued member of our love triangle, but in reality they probably thought of me as little more than a sex toy, a walking dildo if you will. For once Anna had climaxed, she didn’t want anything to do with me.

While I was obsessing over ways of repaying my gambling debts, I received terrible news. My mother called imploring me to come home because Pa had gone missing. He’d left to go on business to a nearby town and hadn’t been seen since. Mae feared the worst. The neighbours had formed a search party but, so far, their efforts had been fruitless. Mae feared Pa might have been drunk and fallen into a pond and drowned.

A few months beforehand, my father informed me of his plan to demand compensation from a man named Phisanu, who was the father of the boy who’d been driving the scooter when Choke was killed. We’d had a simple funeral for Choke and I thought that everyone had moved on by putting his untimely death behind them. But my father had continued to obsess over the details of the crash, and insisted our family was owed compensation. Suwan, the man who’d been teaching his wife to drive the pick-up truck that fateful night, offered my father 100,000 baht in compensation if he agreed not to press charges against him. Suwan was a teacher at the same school as my father and they’d actually been good friends. I don’t know what my father was thinking—perhaps he felt some sort of loyalty to Suwan for old time’s sake—but he accepted the money and dropped the charges.

The two boys who’d been on the scooter with my brother only incurred some minor bruising and a few fractures, so Suwan refused to pay them any compensation. So Phisanu, the father of the driver, demanded justice. He took his grievances to court in the hopes that he and the family of the other boy would be awarded compensation. In court, the two survivors insisted that my brother had been driving when the accident occurred. Meanwhile, Suwan insisted he’d seen Phisanu’s son driving the vehicle. Instead of being awarded compensation, the court ruled that the driver, Phisanu’s son, was guilty of reckless manslaughter and was sent to prison. The court case had backfired on all involved. Phisanu was devastated by the verdict and cursed my father ever since. A series of brawls and angry outbursts ensued.

Rather than letting bygones be bygones, my father’s lawyer suggested Pa seek compensation from Phisanu also, since his son had been found guilty of manslaughter. I don’t think my father’s motives were purely mercenary though. Phisanu had publicly disgraced him with vitriolic attacks on his character, and my father’s pride had been deeply wounded. So he insisted Phisanu pay up. His incessant demands for compensation served only to worsen the rift between them. Phisanu threatened my father with all kinds of violence but Pa thought he was merely putting on a show of false bravado. It was a shame that relations had soured between them; once our two families were extremely close. Both sides had lost loved ones in the accident and, rather than causing them to bond over their shared grief, it only drove a wedge between them. I pleaded with my father to let it go, but between his macho pride and desperation to save face, he refused to listen.

We Thais believe that when it’s someone’s time to go back to their old home—that is, to die—then it’s impossible to change that destiny. That was the last conversation I had with my 62-year-old father.

By the time I arrived at the village, my father’s body had been found. He’d been dead for four days. They discovered him face down on the roadside. I was the only member of my family called to identify the body, yet I barely recognised him. The Khmer tattoo on his back was the only identifiable feature that revealed the corpse to be that of my father. He was horribly bloated, and one of his ears had been almost completely torn off; his face was covered in dried blood and both his eyes sat unnaturally in their sockets. Wriggling maggots seemed to delight in destructively gorging his flesh—a sight that brought home to me the reality of what had actually happened. My father was dead. It was a soul-destroying moment. My stomach wrenched violently and I couldn’t help but throw up. I cried out in agony, like a wounded animal. Words can never adequately explain what it was like seeing my father that way.

Ligature marks criss-crossed his body, suggesting rope had been used to restrain him. It was no accident that killed him; my father had been brutally murdered. My heart sank even further. I agonised thinking about how he’d struggled as his killers were beating him. I found it nearly impossible to come to grips with the horrific fate that had befallen my dearest Pa.

A policeman investigating the scene, who I later learned was a good friend of Phisanu’s, tried to convince me my father’s death had been accidental. He claimed my father had been the victim of a hit and run. Clearly, this made no sense. Had it been the case, the search party would have found him almost immediately since it would’ve happened in such an obvious spot. A hit and run didn’t explain the rope marks and other horrific wounds all over his body. Pa had obviously been abducted, tied up, and beaten to death. His body had possibly been hidden in the forest for some days before the killers decided to later dump him on the roadside. I desperately wanted to believe my father’s death hadn’t been so barbaric; but the evidence stared us all in the face.

The inquest confirmed our fears. Pa had received repeated blows to his head and body from a blunt object. It’d been raining continuously for several days, making it impossible to gather any real evidence, so it was never revealed exactly where he’d been killed. I concluded that whoever did it, wasn’t acting alone.

While my siblings and mother busied themselves preparing for Pa’s funeral, I occupied myself with gathering information through the local rumour mill. Mae told me that Pa was supposed to be going on business for half a day but never returned. Sombat, an acquaintance of my father, said he’d asked Pa to join their usual evening drinking circle on the day he disappeared and Pa had apparently done so, before leaving the party in a drunken stupor. I became suspicious of Sombat. He was the last person to see my father alive and also happened to be the one to discover his body. Pa usually walked home from Sombat’s along a small track which wove its way through an area of dense forest which, nonetheless, was inhabited by a handful of residents. At night-time though, the place was deathly quiet and a man’s screams would surely have been heard. After much prodding on my part, one of the locals confessed that he and his family had heard a pick-up truck race down the small road on the night in question. They also heard the distinct cries of a man in trouble. But they thought a fight had broken out between local louts and decided that it’d be better not to get involved.

I slowly began to piece together the night’s events as best I could. My father’s attackers must have come after him in a pick-up truck and abducted him. They then took him to a secure location and tortured him to death, before surreptitiously dumping the body at an opportune time in order that it be found half a week later. Nobody was willing to give any other information so this fragmented picture was the best I could come up with.

The more I delved into the crime the more convinced I’d become that I would be next on the murderers’ hit list. After all, I was nosing about and no doubt ruffling some feathers, especially judging by the nervous responses I was getting to my questions. I realised I needed to be more cautious when probing the locals. For all I knew, some of them might have been in cahoots with Phisanu, even helping to carry out the crime. Or if they hadn’t been directly involved, they may have had knowledge that would have put them in danger if they decided to disclose it. The atmosphere was less than cooperative, and the more information I gathered, the more confused I became.

One thing I was certain about was that Phisanu was the mastermind. I confided this thought with a close friend who promptly informed me that for 20,000 baht he could put a hit on Phisanu. Another friend offered to sell me an M16 so I could take matters into my own hands. I drank countless bottles of rice whiskey but nothing drowned the anger and hatred simmering within me. The only thing that prevented me from taking the law into my own hands was the fact I had a son and wife to think of. I didn’t want to perpetuate an endless cycle of revenge and death. If I avenged my father by killing Phisanu, it’d only be a matter of time before his family came after me. I reluctantly put the matter to rest, and prayed that karma would decide the fate of those responsible for Pa’s death.