Lost in Pattaya (11 page)

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Authors: Kishore Modak

BOOK: Lost in Pattaya
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When I shrivelled
wormlike in withdrawal, the hallucinations became as real as dreams that you
enter without ever waking up, infinity nightmares. In that wring of pain, Miho
and Thuy Binh, they came to me, often shooting up from off my chest while I was
denied the drug that my body craved. On that first night, as if in a game, they
allowed me to eat and suck the remainder powder off their fingers. Those few
micrograms left me sweating and begging for more. My women, they simply
caressed me, smiling all the while.

The first forty
eight hours were the worst, and I know not why they made me suffer, since in the
end

I regressed back
into the world of cocaine, careful enough to taste on the tongue what I
accepted as coke into the nose.

You may have
guessed, heroin, it does not agree with me, and for my remainder days I stayed
away from it, except once when my aggressor forced me to eat it while I
screamed from the restraint of shackles.

They loved each
other, Miho and Thuy Binh, respectfully. It was evident in their decent-genteel
lovemaking that I lay witness to in those ghastly days of withdrawal. The
respect, I recognised it immediately as an evolution from debased stoned sexual
experiments of body and mind, succumbing eventually to the liquid warmth of
locked lips as the ideal avenue for tasting love, on a longer term vista with a
steady partner. The gentle decency was in accepting the perversion that one may
have unleashed on the other, leaving things behind, looking at a life ahead
spent in the others love.

Drenched in the
transition rainbow of dim lights, they made no attempt at privacy in their love
making, often flashing glances at me through it all, as if from a screen of a
titillating film made for the express purpose of male arousal.

In the few
infrequent open windows of sobriety, I soaked in the images of Miho at dawn,
sweating upon the sands in the flourish of a well wielded
Katane.
Often,
she perfected her skills alone, in the knee deep waves of the sea beyond. I
came to respect her weapons as natural extensions of her arms. When I felt
strong enough, I stood in the balcony gazing upon her in the sea, marvelling at
her superhuman swims and sprints. She would swim for many minutes before she
lay exhausted on the sand. Even in deep waters, she clung on to her weapons;
the additional weight made the minutes of survival seem hours for that
apprentice of martial arts, Miho. It made me crave the physical torture of
squash but my depleted strength left it a mere dream for now.

Each morning, the
two lovers dressed in traditional
Sarongs
and offered prayers to their
Lord, chanting along with the tinkle of bells while the priest adorned the
figure of the Lord with fragrant flowers. They offered dumplings, cigarettes,
whiskey and other such consumables in small quantity each day at his feet
before they broke their fast, eating slowly for an entire half hour, consuming
Thai tea all the while. They invited all who were present in their large living
space to join them in their meal, and out of respect the priest as well as the
attendants never refused, reaching for a morsel before falling back to their
daily duties.

A Buddha shuns
idolatry.

From about eight
it the morning till about noon, Thuy Binh conducted business with visitors from
behind her large desk, who seemed compliant and nervous with respect, stealing
glances at deadly Miho who simply hung around the room in boredom.

The doctor came
often enough for me to know that I would live, until one glorious vermilion
sunrise I was on the beach, looking up at him standing in the window of what
had been my home of rehabilitation, a full fortnight before I felt up to walking
outdoors. On that sixteenth day, I felt the glow of the rising sun, in which I
finally ran, imagining myself in the stretch of the longest squash rally I had
ever played. I worked out for the first time in days and at breakfast I became
all wide eyed and ravenous, fired by the healthy appetite of a solid workout.
On the internet I searched for squash clubs in Pattaya. I did not find any so I
settled for badminton sessions with the sporting fraternity of Thailand on
badmintoncentral.com.

I was not a prisoner.
Yet, I was imprisoned by the knowledge they held, the knowledge of Li Ya. The
thought of moving back out into the city and resuming my search did not arise
since I knew the answers were here. I felt a bit indebted too, after all it was
with them that I had lived through the horror of my overdose.

I have to confess,
in the hours of struggle for my own life, the pain of Li Ya’s loss left me
altogether. I simply pondered on my own end.

After I recovered,
the Doctor often smiled as he smoked joints, always offering me one. For now, I
refused, being too taken by my resolve at abstinence.

“Doc, do you speak
English?” I asked.

He measured me,
reaching a conclusion of trust,

“Yes, I do,
little,” he said, accentuated but clear.

“What was it I
had, a stroke or a heart attack?” I asked him, repulsed by the smell of burning
grass.

“I can’t say for
sure, but it seemed like a mild allergy and some arrhythmia of the heart,” he
answered, joint wedged between his teeth.

“You took the
Hippocratic Oath, how could you leave me to die while you stuck your silly
stethoscope on my chest?”

“You trended well,
and your death would be a small price in the path of allegiance that I owe my
Mistress,” he said, sipping country whisky like a connoisseur, lighting up
again.

“Shit talk, it was
a heart attack wasn’t it?” I moved towards him, the air thickening with tension
as I suddenly grabbed the
Tanto
from Miho. She simply lay on the
divan
,
resting with a stack of manga by her side.

“Take it easy . .
. ” the Doc veered between confidence and panic, stumbling as he rose, spilling
the whisky.

“Tch Tch Tch,”
Miho, she was on my back, her hand easily wrestling the
Tanto
away. With
proximity and touch, the naked image of her body rose thorough my eyes and
nose, a faint mix of jasmine, coke and clove spread itself out.

Did she linger?
Her nipples brushing as she sized me up with her own sense of smell, making
elastic and long the easy jerk of force with which she could disarm me.

“I don’t think you
had anything more serious than an allergic reaction. At most a mild heart
attack, don’t worry about it,” the doctor had tensed with the quick movements
of Miho.

“Where is my
stuff, my bags and my passports etc.?” I asked, turning to Miho.

“That is not
important,” she simply said, moving back to the divan.

“I need things; I
need money to buy things.”

“Write down what
you need and give it to the doctor, he will arrange things.”

In about an hour
the doctor made good the items on my list, which were mostly related to
badminton gear and dumbbells.

“I thought you
liked squash,” Thuy Binh said, when I was leaving for badminton, having been
handed a wad of notes from a safe operated by the Doc.

“This island
offers only badminton,” I replied.


Offer
is a
proposition made by another. We rarely receive meaningful offers. Other than
Miho, you are the only one that has stayed with us for over a couple of days
without dying,” Thuy Binh replied. The silk of her
Sarong
slid off the
snowy peak of her soft right knee as she reclined on the divan. I withheld my
glare, resisting the urge to take her in with stares.

I wanted to pierce
her with my penile spear, thrusting deep till the torture of force made her
blurt out the answer to my question “Where is Li Ya?”

“Be sure to be
back by 9 PM, we have a flight to catch,” she added.

“Flight? Where
to?” I asked.

“You came here to
search for answers, right?” she asked me.

“Yes I want my
daughter back. I know you know about her,” I said, slowly moving towards her,
almost folding my palms in a gesture of obeisance.

“You are searching
in the wrong place. I will fly with you, later tonight,” she said, raising her
hand, meaning that she was done with conversation for now. Though full of
questions, I had learnt a few rules, including not pressing the lady with
conversations.

My questions turned
inward in a confusion of outcomes that may have dragged Li Ya into the year
past.

She would have
been traded by Thuy Binh, to be consumed in other markets for a profit. Or,
maybe she had run away, discovered only recently by Thuy Binh and her network
of pimps. Li Ya, she may be in mental and physical tatters, destroyed in her
year of absent childhood, but for now it was sufficient that she was alive.
Therapy and my care would heal her, only invisible scars would remain.

At the terminal
Thuy Binh and I sat in the VIP corner of the lounge while the Doctor handled
all our papers for passage. The status of flights flashed on the console.

“Where are we
heading?” I asked, sipping wine.

“You will see,”
she simply said, smoking steadily in the non-smoking terminal, her Thai robes
flowing luxurious like a river of silk over her body. She exchanged glances
with a few people who bowed from a distance.

Food was
presented, of which we ate a little. She seemed preoccupied and unwilling to
share any of her thoughts with me, and this only heightened my restlessness.
The platter remained largely untouched.

“It’s time,” she
said as soon as the flight to Singapore changed its status from
Security
to
Boarding.

A chill ran down
me. It was our intent to board a flight to my home city.

Singapore is
unique among countries that claim recourse to law, because in Singapore the
respect for law comes from the wrath of enforcement inescapable in deviance. It
seemed ironic and a bit foolish to me that after my unbridled charge into Thailand’s
underbelly, I was returning to docile Singapore with a mafia-pimp-queen by my
side.

At the gates my
suspicions came good; we were heading for Singapore. The Doctor handed our
travel documents to Thuy Binh at the very last moment before bowing, as we
moved into the vestibule leading to the craft.

On the flight she
remained herself, aloof and above the rest, but a transformation began with our
descent into Singapore. She went to the lavatory, emerging in blue jeans and a
plain white t-shirt. Without the silks, the oriental hair-do’s and the
jewellery, she looked even more radiant.

In Singapore, it
was only by the time we were in the taxi that it struck me – I was free of her.
Her dark shadow of power did not extend into Singapore.

“I worry for you,”
she moved her hand over mine and gently kissed me on my lips.

“What do you
mean?” I was drawn to her and the secrets that she had been keeping.

“I run an empire
of prostitution. My control is from the fear that I extend in my name. You are
a good man, but I have to distance from anything that weakens my only strength
– fear,” she said, comfortably resting her head back on the taxi’s seat.

The blue ice-box
taxi sped through the halogen-glow bathing the urban highway.

“How do I weaken
your strength?” I asked, realising that the woman next to me was mine. The
reticent monosyllabic, vicious leader of corruption that I had come to know in
the past couple of weeks had rapidly transformed into a caring intimate friend.

“Where is Li Ya?”
I added.

“I can’t tell you,
but by tomorrow afternoon I think I will be able to show you everything,” she
said, touching my face with her palms.

“Is Li Ya safe?” I
asked her, my lips trembling in a prelude to the tears that formed in my eyes.

“Yes, completely
safe. But, I can’t say any more now. You have to promise patience for one
night, and, if you can’t, I would be forced to take the alternative path of
cutting myself loose off you and simply disappearing. It’s your choice,” she
was measured, as she delivered her threats.

It left me no
choice. Being so close to answers, I had to comply with her request of
patience, of which I was tested supreme in the day that lay ahead.

“Okay,” I said,
holding her in my arms lightly as I kissed her mouth gently.

We did not check
into hotels, walking instead towards a large yacht, pre-arranged no doubt, at
the Marina where the taxi left us before speeding off.

On the yacht, we
were by ourselves apart from the crew of two who steered the ship and paid
immense attention to leaving us alone. A dinner of champagne and caviar
followed by poached fish and crème brulee left us languid; the city lights
became distant as we moved away on the ocean. Thuy Binh took her clothes off
and descended into the water. I was numbed by a premonition of the confusion to
come. So I jumped in after her, swimming about for a while in the sea, resting
from time to time on the small open lower deck. Naked but for the moonlight
that shone off our bodies, we kissed gently on the lower deck, before climbing
back onto the main deck, lightly robed. The crew dropped anchor in a faraway
part of the ocean and bid us good night as they sped away in a little insect
like boat that got launched from the belly of our mother ship.

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