Lost in Pattaya (20 page)

When she heard of
the change, she smiled snide, un-endorsing of the new ways. When I began to
succeed, she smiled proud, as if she had trained the apprentice who brought
order to the mafia and the girls who get to work each night.

Thuy Binh passed
away quietly; we, Miho and I present by her side as I handed her the pills and
drugs that would make her decision of suicide free of physical pain. Her
decision was weighed and calculated and when we had spoken of it, it was she
who convinced me that all life was purposeless, and hence, giving it up had no
more significance than extending it. She remained Darwinian till the end.

Thuy Binh had been
the instrument of both my fall and my rise. Fall, from the loss of my child
whom she had abducted, leaving me spiralling into emptiness; and rise from the
low point of that tragedy, resurrecting me to where I stand today, accepting
all that has come my way, without letting happenings affect my core of worship
towards her. I insisted that her final resting place be in the sanctum of the
Southern
Cross
, which my divers found wasting in the shallow depths of Bangkok’s
harbour. Instead of retrieving the vessel, we simply committed her to a deep
watery grave, trawling the
Cross
away from the harbour into darker
waters, deep enough for the Yacht and her to remain undisturbed. Miho’s grief
was tiresome, with endless crying and wailing, something that I found
unnecessary. But, since it was only the two of us who as much as noticed the
passage of Thuy Binh, her shedding of the mandatory tear seemed to complete the
culmination of life, with ritual grief exhibited in the end. Maybe, I too should
have grieved, since that helps us move on, but I did not, keeping her absence
forever inside of me, like a belief that made all else a mere happening of
inconsequential human acts.

As regards Li Ya,
I remained completely cut off from my estranged family, not wanting the shadow
of my sins to extend into their life. However, my informants kept tabs on her,
and what they reported was heartening, she had taken up the study of medicine
and was leading the mundane life of a student along the Gold Coast. Fang Wei
and Georgy were well too, mellow in the evening that their time together had
introduced.

The singular
purpose of time, continuous movement, it traps us all, leaving only one victor,
time itself. Mine eventually ran out with the onset of disease, invited by the
excess of size that my life remained. The physicians informed us that my heart
had enlarged and my liver had shrivelled, the symptoms of which manifested in
paleness and almost no ability at even mild physical activity, like walking up
a case of stairs, or, the exertions from the virility of healthy sex. My
oesophageal path too had deteriorated and I was soon shitting blood, owing to
the abraded walls of stomach and other digestive tracts. With each day I
consume lesser and lesser food, asking instead for morphine shots which help
tide the pain over. Miho visits me often, with her new lover, who seemed a
reasonable woman, because soon they were running a combined operation of
Bangkok and its more tasteful satellite, Pattaya.

She has promised,
when I pass on, she will look out for Li Ya, like a parent providing from a
distance when a child’s life demands resource. She became Li Ya’s invisible
insurance policy.

I lie in my
hospital bed, simply studying this manuscript, waiting for the day to be placed
next to Thuy Binh, from where we will observe the life of fish, together.