Read Thai Girl Online

Authors: Andrew Hicks

Thai Girl (40 page)

‘It was a remote mountain village I was in,' Chuck went on with a catch in his voice, ‘but I guess we thought the peasants there were better dead than red. So our planes put rockets into the cave where the women and children were hiding and killed the lot of 'em. When I saw the place, it hit home to me what we'd done. Same in Vietnam … and I guess in Afghanistan right now.'

‘And maybe soon in Iraq,' added Maca. ‘They always think you can resolve things with violence … they're trigger happy enough to invade.'

‘Yeah man, so let me tell you this then,' said Chuck, sitting bolt upright on the mat, beer bottle in hand. ‘Would you believe … the US military's bombed twenty one countries since World War Two! Twenty one! September eleven was real bad but if you compare the headcount with the numbers we've killed, it looks minor. Bothers me too when all that bombing's done not by a suicidal bunch of extremists but by a superstate … and in my name as an American citizen.'

Ben was intrigued by Chuck's strong views about his own country; he was usually so quiet and unassuming, and he was patriotic too.

‘So Chuck, why are you saying America got it all wrong after September eleven?' he asked.

‘Don't forget, Ben … it was a horrific atrocity!' Chuck replied. ‘And though I guess we're used to handing it out and seeing death on TV, this was our first experience of the American heartland getting hit. Wars somewhere else from thirty thousand feet are fine, but Bin Laden really shook us up. So someone's gonna pay. When the American people are insulted, Mister President's gotta avenge'em … even if it's indiscriminate.'

‘So when Bush comes to shove, he's got to keep up his reputation as world bully,' quipped Stewart noisily. ‘The revenge of George Doubleyuh!'

‘It's pure Hollywood,' shouted Maca excitedly, the spliff glowing in his hand. ‘“Wanted dead or alive … this is a crusade against evil and you folks are either for us or agin' us,” says Bush. Dead scary! No surprise if Saddam wanted to arm himself. Who's the rogue state with the weapons of mass destruction anyway?'

‘And “Ground Zero” and “Operation Infinite Justice” are straight off a second-rate screenplay!' groaned Chuck. ‘There's this big family feud you see … Poppa Bush didn't get the bad guy so now it's all down to boy George to nail Saddam!'

‘But George has lost the plot … and the bad guy's even got five o'clock shadow and a silly moustache!' Stewart hooted with delight. ‘Though Maca, this is no “B” grade movie mun, it's a box office blockbuster … look how Bush's ratings rocketed. And remember how real life reflects the movies. Ronald Reagan started as a screen cowboy and now he's been voted the best modern President ever … even with alzheimers. It beggars belief!' He stood up and hurled a stone into the darkness towards the edge of the cliff.

‘Pick a famous actor who's stupid and they can probably get him elected. Maybe it's Arnie's turn next,' joked Maca loudly.

‘Problem is,' said Chuck, ‘we're always so simplistic in our foreign policy. Americans don't travel abroad, so we're inward-looking and can't appreciate other cultures. No surprise we always get it wrong … like when we support a compliant regime, it's the kiss of death for them. Every time we intervene, it's counter-productive. So when I'm travelling, I try to see how the local culture's different to mine.'

‘America's got a culture!' quipped Stewart. ‘Like what? You mean militant materialism and Mickey Mouse? Or like the American dream … the survival of the fittest in the world's biggest candy store! American nightmare I'd call it.'

‘The key cultural difference is this,' said Dutch, lolling against the veranda post but still deadly serious. ‘Asian values are collective … the family, the village and so on. But in the West it's all about self and individual rights … maybe that's why western nations behave as we do. But we aren't colonials any more and it's time we respected other cultures.

‘We do respect them, Dutch,' Ben protested. ‘Course we do.'

‘No we don't. The West dominates world trade and overwhelms smaller countries with its economic clout. America's been almost a quarter of the world economy during the twentieth century and its wealth and culture are so attractive. Like in the Cold War it was dead easy for the US to buy Thailand to stop it going communist. Look how the Thais fell for the consumer society.'

‘Yeah, and Bin Laden hates American influence in Saudi,' said Maca. ‘I saw that problem when I worked in Jiddah.'

‘Exactly. What Islam fears is being subverted by materialism. They can't buy into the western goodies without getting contaminated by the corrosive values,' argued Dutch.

‘So Uncle Sam's invading the globe with burgers, Budweiser and Britney. Irresistible!' said Stewart.

‘Nice one, Stew,' crowed Darren over the laughter before Stewart had his final say.

‘And they want to impose the American dream on everyone else … liberty and democracy American style. Some model for the world to follow! Bush got fewer votes than Gore and only got in as President when his brother fixed it for him. And what a choice for the American people that was … Gore and Bush, bore and gush! No wonder they couldn't decide. And when you think about the presidents they get … Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Clinton … half of ‘em were sex maniacs or shits, and most of the others … Ford, Reagan, George Doubleyuh … just plain stoopid!'

Sitting silently with Penny, Ben decided it was time to balance the debate a bit.

‘This liberal stuff's all very well but September eleven was an outrage. Tony Blair knows Saddam's got weapons of mass destruction, so the free world's got to defend itself and strike first.'

‘Yes Ben, but terror's an ideological struggle which Bush just doesn't begin to understand,' said Dutch passionately. ‘He's totally out of his depth, so he did exactly what Bin Laden wanted … to overreact and be belligerent. Then world opinion polarises and America makes more enemies, more extremists and more potential terrorists. You lose sympathy if you threaten everyone and bomb poverty-stricken Muslims. Yes, we have to do everything possible to protect ourselves, but that's about security. Shouting war does the opposite … it creates instability and fear and sets the world against us.'

‘Funny thing,' said Stewart, ‘Vietnam was exactly the same … they got obsessed with dropping bombs on an abstraction. Then it was “communism” … now it's “terrorism”. Trouble is, you can bomb the jungle and you can bomb the desert, you can kill as many people as you like, but you can never capture their minds.' He looked round for a response, impressed by his own ramblings.

‘Very clever, Stewart, but the West's got modern weapons to defend itself with,' said Ben angrily. ‘So why shouldn't we use them.'

‘Like these new precision bombs that never kill civilians, you mean? So we tell the satellites to look for a beardie with a turban hiding in a cave, then send off a smart bomb with “Bin Laden” written on it. Is that what we do?'

‘No way,' said Maca. ‘Looking for Bin Laden's like a needle in a haystack.'

‘Some needle! And first they've gotta find the fucking haystack!' bellowed Stewart. His noisy one-liner brought a ripple of amusement, though Chuck ignored the laughter.

‘When I'm in Lao or Cambodia I see poverty everywhere … in Thailand too sometimes,' he said in a low voice. ‘And I tell it you straight, the West's got too much of the cookies. Look at us sitting here knocking back the hooch … we've got it made.'

‘It's like we're from another planet,' said Dutch, ‘and most travellers don't begin to see what's going on around them.'

‘One B2 bomber costs six billion dollars,' persisted Chuck. ‘Think what that'd do for poverty in Phnom Penh. Or what they'd save cancelling a B2 mission from Missouri to pulverise mud huts in Afghanistan. We could win over the world if we'd share a bit more … we don't need bombs.'

‘Okay then,' joked Stewart, ‘so I'll get a poster printed and put it in the Oval Office. It's of Ronald McDonald with a speech bubble saying, “Mr President, never forget,
the hamburger's mightier than the sword!”
Think about it mun.' He took a swig of his Sang Som and lay back theatrically on the floor, exhausted from the strain of so much mental activity.

Hazy brains tried to absorb Stewart's conversation-stopper. In the silence that followed, Maca got up and said he was about to turn in for the night. He came across to where Ben and Penny were sitting huddled together in the darkness.

‘Ben mate, Penny's from the lucky country and she's homeless tonight. Yours is the only hut with one body in it, so d'you think maybe …?'

‘Yeah okay, why not,' said Ben, trying not to sound as if he'd just won the lottery.

‘Thanks Ben,' said Penny, squeezing his hand and not letting go. He realised he was grinning foolishly again, the muscles in his cheeks in involuntary spasm.

Not long after, as he lay on his double mattress listening to the sounds of showering a few feet away through the thin partition, Ben had visions of Penny's body, naked and slim, the cold water coursing down her sharp little breasts and into the cleft of her bum. He could see the fingers caressing soap across her slender topography, finding their way into the secret valleys, towelling the golden skin and tying on a short cotton sarong.

It was perfectly normal for travellers to share a room with the opposite sex, he told himself and it meant nothing. But then he vaguely remembered something Darren had said about what happens when you share a hut with a girl. And he began to wonder whether he was only canned on skunk or whether he was pissed as well. Not that it mattered much, so long as he managed not make a total fool of himself that night.

30

Shortly before six the next evening Ben was again sitting on the rattan sofa in the reception hut, thumbing through the same battered fashion magazine as he waited anxiously for Fon to call. At two minutes to six the mobile phone at the desk rang. He jumped to his feet but it was not for him. He waited a small eternity until six fifteen when it rang again. The unsmiling girl answered it and handed it him.

‘Hi, Fon?'

‘No, this Gaeo. How you, Ben?'

‘I'm okay but …'

‘Koh Chang good? Expensive?'

‘Gaeo …where's Fon?'

‘She with me now.'

Ben was overjoyed, but to his dismay the new voice that came on was weak and strangled and he could hardly recognise it as Fon.

‘Fon? Is that you?'

‘Hello Ben.'

‘You okay, Fon?'

‘Very tired … work, work every day. Many people.'

‘But that's good.'

‘Yes, good money.'

‘So I'll see you when I get back to Koh Samet in a few days, like I said in my fax.' There was a moment's pause. ‘Fon? Can you hear me? The line's terrible.'

‘No Ben, you not come Koh Samet … please, you not come back.'

‘Fon! Why ever not? You don't want to see me again?' Ben was thunderstruck.

‘And you not call Gaeo's mobile,' she said in a choked voice.

‘You won't even talk to me?!'

‘This her husband's phone. Big problem!' he could just hear her saying.

‘But why can't I see you? Fon!' he wailed.

‘Ben, you not understand? Two together here … no possible.'

To Ben's horror the line then began to break up and Fon's voice faded away to nothing.

In a daze he handed back the mobile, walked out of the building and headed for the beach. Feeling shocked and numb, he stood looking out to sea and tried to take in what had just happened. If Fon had finally finished with him, then why, why, why? Was it the card Odin had written for him? Because she could not be seen on the beach with a
farang?
Because she would not risk her heart? Or was the boyfriend back on the scene?

He knew there were a thousand things working against their friendship but only the fear of harming her reputation stopped him packing up and heading back to Koh Samet immediately. As the horizon blurred with tears he began to think the unthinkable, that perhaps this affair had been too painful and ending it might be a relief.

But now he did not know how he was going to get through the next few days. He desperately needed to talk things through with somebody, but with whom? Penny had gone off to stay on a quieter beach where there were empty huts, though she was about the last person he could confide in. Odin might understand the tensions with Fon, but he too was hardly an impartial observer. Stewart was a mature sort of guy and was probably the best choice. But most of all he thought of Emma. Ironically it was she, his best pal, who would be able to make sense of it all.

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