Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss (22 page)

He had learned early that it was almost impossible to save girls who had been doing the job more than a few months. They quite simply got used to the money and the lifestyle and had no real desire to change. Lek was already twenty-six and past her prime as an escort. She was facing a hard reality – either find a man to marry her or try to find a job that didn’t require a flawless body.

The girls all knew that they could call Mike if they had a problem, if they were sick or hurt or if a customer was giving them trouble. Some went to Mike for help writing letters to long-distance boyfriends. Mike was a soft touch and rarely refused to help a girl if she asked him.

Lek held his hand and told him what a good man he was. She knew that he was consumed by his past and filled with regrets. She knew some of his past but not all. “Mikern,” she said in that oddly cute way she mispronounced his name, “you good man, do good t’ings. All girl love you,
Jai Dee
. Why you sad now?”

Mike could only shake his head.

“Let’s go home,
peun
,”
my friend
, she said. He gave her hand a squeeze.

Mike had an understanding with the bar owner in regard to Lek. She could leave when she wanted, and he would pay her bar fine. No one knew exactly what their relationship was, but rumors were varied. Mike knew that Lek loved him, and he loved her also, but he also felt he was unworthy of any love. He was damaged goods as far as he was concerned. He was here to do some good with what life he had left.

They stood up and left together holding hands. Lek was tall by Thai standards. She dyed her hair a light brown and wore blue contact lenses. She was beautiful by any measure.

In the taxi, Lek snuggled close to Mike for warmth – the taxi driver had the AC blasting. Mike enjoyed the close contact and, not for the first time, wished that he would just give in and enjoy what Lek offered.

Lek was talking to the driver, giving instructions to their apartment. In no time, they were in front of their building. Mike paid for the taxi, and Lek led him to their unit. She unlocked the door. As they entered, they both removed their shoes. When he looked up, she was standing in front of him. Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him. He was kissing her back and enjoying it. Without a word, she led him to her room and closed the door. Tonight she would not accept ‘no’ for an answer. She knew he cared for her, and she knew that he knew her feelings for him. He was her man.

After making love, they had held each other, and she had cried. She explained how it hurt her so much that the man she loved and who loved her didn’t want her. She felt she was an old whore so ugly, even her man didn’t want her. He was shocked; he never knew that his forced abstinence was hurting her. He held her, and they made love again. Mike felt liberated when he woke up in Lek’s arms. She made him feel like he was worthy of love.

Chapter 2

Eric Givens was a burnout and a drunk. He fled the world of high pressure sales and the stagnant life of a loveless marriage and landed in Thailand. His first weeks in Bangkok were a mixed bag of sinful pleasures and frustrations. The girls were beautiful and didn’t care that he was average at best. He had learned the hard way to take it easy on the native foods. His body needed to adapt.

As time passed, he found the rhythm of the city and the people and adjusted to the heat and the food. He began to learn the basic words of the Thai language and find his way around the city. Bangkok amazed him; the mix of modern with old, and people that always seemed to be polite.

The last thing that he wanted was another wife. What he came there looking for was a life of freedom, a life of no responsibilities. At first all went as planned, and Eric loved it. But then casual sex began to be boring, and he was tired of waking up with a hangover every damned day. He was tired of waiting for evening to come around so that he could go to the bar and do the same old thing over again. He needed a purpose; he needed something to keep him busy.

He had met a woman named Sumalee at a mall who had her own booth where she sold traditional Thai silk wraps and scarves. She also sold some wood carvings and jewelry boxes. He had bought a simple box to hold things like his watch and spare change. Soon he found himself making excuses to come back to the booth. He enjoyed her company, and she tolerated his.

She wasn’t super-model beautiful, but she was cute. Better still, she actually had a brain capable of holding a conversation that included more than ‘love you long time’ and ‘boom boom.’ The down side was that she had two children, and the father was long gone. Regardless of this fact, Eric found himself returning to Sumalee’s booth almost every day, just for her company and conversation.

Sumalee was busy with a customer when Eric arrived, but she gave him a quick wave. He pretended to be interested in a silk sari, then caught his reflection in a mirror. He was balding and showing a bigger gut than he remembered, but overall the guy that looked back at him was not too bad.

Sumalee stood behind him and laughed. “Eric, maybe you wish to look at different color. I think maybe blue is more appropriate to go with your blue eyes.”

Eric smiled and looked at Sumalee. Her smile always grabbed at his heart. He was falling for her in spite of his plans for a life free of responsibilities.

“Come sit down,” she said. “I brought some tea and a snack for you today.” He enjoyed every minute with her. They discussed everything from US politics to finding a new apartment. She advised him that where he currently lived was not a very good neighborhood.

Sumalee’s daughter suddenly appeared with her little brother in tow. Both were dressed in school uniforms and politely bowed to Eric. Eric had worked a deal with Sumalee. He would tutor her children in English in exchange for Sumalee tutoring him in Thai. Today was to be their first session.

Eric had stopped and purchased some books for children to help them learn. Sumalee had a small room in back of her booth that they would use as a classroom. The children would first enjoy a small meal before the lesson began.

The daughter’s name was Lawan, which is Thai for ‘beautiful.’ The name fit perfectly. Lawan was a beautiful little girl who always seemed to be smiling. She looked like she was nine years old, and her skin was a lovely cinnamon color. Her little voice was soft and reminded Eric of the sound of wind chimes. Like all older sisters, she enjoyed being in charge of her younger brother.

The son’s name was Kiet, meaning ‘honor.’ Kiet was seven years old and looked like he was seven years old. His voice was deep for his age, and he always seemed so serious. He seldom smiled, and Eric had never seen him laugh. The little guy was content to entertain himself and seemed annoyed if anyone paid him any attention.

The first lesson was actually for Eric to determine how much English the children actually knew. Not surprisingly, Eric found out that both children already spoke some English. They knew the basics, including the English alphabet. The books that Eric bought were next to useless. He gave them the books anyway. They could practice what they already knew.

Luwan already had a strong vocabulary, considering English was a second language. Her sentence structure needed work, as did her pronunciation. Listening to her speak English amused Eric. She spoke English with a Thai cadence often reversing words. For example, Luwan told Eric that English sometimes gave her an ‘ache head.’ He knew she actually meant a headache.

Kiet was younger, and his English skills were substantially less developed. He could make himself understood but had to struggle to do so. He also lacked any interest in developing his language skills further. He was a typical boy, the same as any boy Eric had ever known. Education was at the bottom of his priority list.

The first day of English went well, and Eric was disappointed when the two hours were up. In spite of himself, he was falling in love with these children. He could see himself in their lives and hopefully making a difference.

* * * * *

Andel was man of few emotions. He grew up in a filthy hovel in Czechoslovakia. His father was a brutal man and a drunk. He was a minor party official who enjoyed bullying others. This tendency was more pronounced at home, where Andel’s father took out his anger on his family with his fists.

Andel, which meant ‘angel’ in Czechoslovakian, was named by his mother. His mother had told him that, as a baby, he was always happy and smiling, contented and enjoyed any attention, but required almost none. He also looked nothing like his father, which resulted in his father wanting nothing to do with him, except to pummel him. The man had beaten and sexually abused him for as long as he could remember. Andel hated the man and cared very little for his mother – the woman married the beast and, because of this, brought suffering upon them both.

When Andel was six, his mother had made the mistake of trying to distract the beast away from beating him. She was rewarded with a slow painful death – Andel had watched the man beat his mother to death before his very eyes.

Andel had felt little sympathy for her. By that point in his young life, his father had beaten out of him any compassion he might have ever developed. That particular beating was to ensure he understood what would happen if he ever spoke of the woman again. The beating had been unnecessary.

On Andel’s tenth birthday he killed his father by burning the house down as the man slept in a drunken stupor. The State sent Andel away to an orphanage where older boys took delight in beating and sodomizing him. This treatment only served to harden his heart even more. He in turn did the same thing to children both younger and smaller than he was. He was well on his way to becoming a man even more evil than his father.

When Andel was fourteen, he found a stray cat with kittens. He had won the cat’s trust by feeding it scraps of meat every day. He had plans for the cat and its kittens; he wanted to kill them, and he wanted to make it slow and painful. Just thinking about it excited him. If he thought about it enough, he could make himself have an orgasm.

He was caught killing small animals, but not until after he had killed many. This brought him to the attention of the State Secret Police, generally known as the StB. He was the kind of raw material that they had a use for. At age fifteen he began training to be a servant of the State, a role he came to love because it allowed him to satisfy his every craving.

Andel enjoyed almost complete immunity, provided he kept his extracurricular activities low-key and cleaned up his own messes. His body count mounted as he sampled every form of depraved behavior that his twisted mind could imagine. He could imagine many things.

Andel was trained to be an assassin. It was a role to which he was perfectly suited. He gained a reputation as a coldblooded butcher. He was creative and thought of himself as an artist, going to great lengths to make each kill unique and ever more gruesome; to make a statement.

With the fall of the Soviet Union and the communist regime in Czechoslovakia, Andel was out of a job. Worse still, he was on a very long list of State criminals. He went private and worked for the Russian mafia. The Russian mafia understood how to use a man of his talents.

Unfortunately for Andel, he wore out his welcome with his new employers. He couldn’t resist his baser impulses. He took a child that he assumed was a nobody and brutalized then killed the child in his usual manner. The child, as it turned out, was the granddaughter of a former ranking officer of the GRU. There was no denying what Andel had done, and it brought unwanted attention. The grandfather, although retired, still wielded a great deal of influence and could make very real trouble for Andel’s employers. He demanded Andel’s head on a platter, accepting no excuses.

Andel could also be lucky at times. He made a habit of skulking and eavesdropping. He happened to overhear two Russian’s talking about giving him a taste of his
own
pain. He later ambushed them and, after hours of enjoyment, learned all that they knew. He hated Russians and actually took particular delight in executing them.

No longer welcome in Russia and hunted, he fled for his life. Working for the Russians had paid well, and he had amassed a sizable nest egg. He always knew the day would come when he would become the hunted. He fled as far from Eastern Europe as he could.

Bangkok, Thailand was a city like many others he had visited. It was also a place where he could hide in plain sight. His challenge, however, was to control his need to practice his art. He lost the battle when he watched a perfect little girl leading her little brother around the side street outside his hotel.

It was really an accident that he noticed her at all. He had been looking out his window, watching the brown monkeys scratch themselves in the street. That’s what the Russians called Asians, and he found the term appropriate. But on rare occasions, one can always find the exception to the rule, and this child was the exception. Her innocence called to him and demanded his attention. Her innocence offended him to his core. Her smile and the way she walked, as though she had nothing to fear, told him this little brown monkey needed to be educated in the ways of the world. Yes, he would teach her that monsters were real and, before she died, she would know many truths.