When Hope Dawns (Hope trilogy Book 3), page 14
“And you took care of me anyway?”
“I did. If you don’t want me to think I wasted my time, you can do one thing for me,” Café Girl said.
“What’s that?”
“Turn your life around. Do some good for a change. Start by quitting the gang.”
Kasem shook his head. “It’s not so easy to quit a gang. It tends to shorten one’s life span.”
“Find a way,” was Cafe Girl’s reply. The simplicity of it struck Kasem.
One time, as she was changing the bandage on his shoulder, Kasem caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. He meant it as a gesture of gratitude. She pulled away and said, "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm happy to help you, but I'm not one of your girls."
Good for her, Kasem thought. That was the right attitude. Somehow, he'd make it all up to her one day.
Kasem was awakened from his accidental nap by the mechanical voice on the train's PA system announcing that the next stop was Safari World. He got to his feet, looked up and down the car, and prepared to exit.
***
Thaksin arrived at Safari World early for the appointment after misestimating the time it would take him to get there on his Vespa. He had never been to a zoo before and seeing the elephants, the zebras, and giraffes close-up in their paddocks filled him with boyish amazement. A single thought kept playing over and over in his mind -- I must bring Mya here once I find her.
He walked through the reptile house and decided that a Komodo dragon's resemblance to Nakul was uncanny. He strolled out into the sunlight again, checked his wristwatch, and decided he best head to the designated meeting spot: the terminal for the toy train.
Thaksin found a perfect vantage point on a bench behind a kiosk that sold shaved ice. A man with wiry arms was chopping large ice blocks into perfectly sized smaller cubes with an ice pick. It was entrancing to watch, not the least because Thaksin had never seen ice blocks before. The man weaved his artistic magic with precious little effort. Just a well-placed tap in the right spot and an unwieldy block would split with perfectly square edges.
Thaksin tried to imagine what this magician of the icepick might be like outside of work. He made him out to be a committed family man, a simple fellow doing an honest job. Thaksin pictured young children waiting for the man to return to their humble home after a hard day of work, welcoming him with an embrace, vying to sit on his lap. What a lucky man he was.
The train pulled up and slowed to a stop. Pale-skinned tourists got on board, sitting on the cushioned benches; couples, young families. And a man in a sweatsuit with a baseball cap and dark sunglasses. It took Thaksin a few seconds to recognize the young man as Kasem.
Checking his surroundings, Thaksin slowly got to his feet, mounted the open train, and sat on the bench next to Kasem. A young family sat on the bench in front of them: mother, father, and boy about four or five, all blond as straw, the boy with round ruddy cheeks.
Thaksin waited for the train to move before starting the conversation in Burmese, certain no one around them would be able to understand. "So, you're not backing out on me," he said.
"Now, why would you say that?" Kasem said, eyes on the phone in his hands.
The blond boy with the rosy cheeks turned around in the seat in front of them, evidently drawn by the seriousness of the conversation's tone. The kid clung to an opened bag of popcorn as he eyed Thaksin and Kasem suspiciously.
Thaksin glanced at the boy and continued. "So, the setup worked?"
"The director of the anti-trafficking unit is passing the master ledger to Sicchantha tomorrow afternoon," Kasem replied.
Thaksin smiled. "I have to hand it to you. You played that move smoothly. Who's your contact?"
The image of Chariya's face bubbled in Kasem's mind. "None of your business," he said.
The boy turned his gaze from Thaksin to Kasem. With a scowl, he reached into his bag of popcorn and shoved a handful into his mouth. He chewed it slowly.
There was a lightness to Thaksin’s voice. "I'll tell Nakul that Sicchantha will get the master ledger tonight. He's been after that thing since the cops took it in the raid. It made him madder than a hornet. He's trying to pass himself off as a legitimate businessman now. But that ledger tells an entirely different story. He's nervous as hell it'll fall into the wrong hands."
"Such as those of an uncorrupt government official?"
"Or even worse. A reporter. Anyway, Nakul doesn't trust Sicchantha."
"I wonder why," Kasem said sarcastically.
The boy in front of them shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth. His round head pivoted between Kasem and Thaksin as the discussion went on as if he were watching a tennis match.
"I put a bug in his ear," Thaksin said. "Making him believe Sicchantha is responsible for those girls escaping. Nakul's not convinced Sicchantha is an infiltrator, but he's sure as hell becoming open to the idea. Now, if Sicchantha gets the master ledger, and then it disappears, it'll push him over the edge."
"You really think Nakul will kill Sicchantha.” Kasem was beginning to think Thaksin was an optimist.
"He won't do it personally,” replied Thaksin, “but he'll give the order for the hit. When he does, I'll be there to record him with my cellphone. Then, all I have to do is pass the recording over to commander Makok. Even in Thailand, the murder of a deputy minister will not be tolerated. Nakul will go to prison."
"And you'll rise to number one in the gang."
Thaksin shook his head. “Not a gang. A legitimate business enterprise.”
"If you say so," Kasem said.
There was a pause in the discussion. At the same time, the little boy in front of them stopped chewing his popcorn. Thaksin and Kasem glanced at the kid, looked at each other, and shared a quiet laugh.
"No chance this kid is on Nakul's payroll?” Kasem joked.
"If he is, we're both dead," Thaksin said.
Like a blackhole of snacks, the kid grabbed another mouthful of popcorn and looked at the two men with a raised eyebrow.
"You think you'll be able to lift the master ledger from Sicchantha?" Thaksin asked.
Kasem nodded. "I already scoped out his apartment building. He lives at the Noble Recole, apartment 222. The doors have standard 3-pin residential locks; easy to pick."
"Isn't there a security guard in the lobby?"
"They have food delivery guys going through that building every five minutes. I'll pick up some take-out on the way there and pretend I'm delivering it to a resident on Sicchantha's floor."
"What if Sicchantha happens to walk in when you're in his apartment?" Thaksin asked.
"I'll improvise."
"You better have a plan."
Kasem exhaled slowly. "I'm more worried about what happens after I get the ledger."
"I told you. You help me find my sister, and you get to retire. No one will come looking for you, ever. No one will bother you as long as you get the hell out of Bangkok."
The train stopped in front of the lion enclosure. The big cats were sleeping in the corners of the pen, barely visible, draped in the shade of overhanging trees. A few of the tourists stood up to take what would surely be forgettable photographs, framed in the hallways of comfortably forgettable lives. A life the young men will never know.
After a long pause, Kasem asked a question that had been gnawing at him. "Why don't you get out, too? You don't need this life."
Gazing into the distance, past the animal enclosures and tourists, Thaksin said, quietly, "I have nowhere to go."
CHAPTER 20
Moe and Tae Tae prepared a parcel for Mae's departure from Bangkok. In a square of orange cloth, they wrapped a plastic container of rice, a mango, a paper sack with nuts, and a water bottle. Tae Tae slipped a bundle of folded banknotes in Mae's hand as they bid each other farewell. Mae tried to refuse the money, but Tae Tae insisted that the cash was the wages she had rightfully earned. They both knew it was much more.
Mae kissed Tae Tae's hands and mounted the back of the vegetable truck Moe had arranged to take her north. Tae Tae had already phoned a friend who agreed to hire Mae in her sewing shop in exchange for room and board and a modest wage. The generosity of the shopkeepers brought Mae to tears. She promised to return one day to repay them properly. And she'd be back with her children. They had to meet her Mya and Thaksin.
Traffic was heavy leaving the city center. When they crossed the Nonthaburi district, the highway began to clear, and Mae instantly found the air easier to breathe. The Chao Phraya river followed the road off to the west, snaking in before curving away again. The truck crossed mile after mile of lush farmland, bringing a pang of homesickness to Mae's tired heart. She wondered how Paw Paw was holding up back at the farm. She missed the silly old man. But she wouldn't return home empty-handed. As the sun rose in the east, painting the sky in violet hues, Mae was confident she would have Mya back in her arms soon.
The sun was at its zenith when the truck slowed and pulled off the paved highway onto a rutted dirt path. Mae held on tightly as the crates around her bounced every time a wheel found a pothole. A cloud of red dust trailed the truck, making Mae cover her nose and mouth with a corner of her blouse. After five or six kilometers, the path smoothed out again, and they passed several one and two-story buildings, spaced out at first, then growing denser until they entered what seemed like the village's main square. Mae spotted a building at the square's edge with several buses parked on a paved lot. The bus depot, Mae thought. That's where I will find my Mya.
The truck turned into an alley and stopped in front of a shop with a narrow storefront. The overheated engine shut off after a couple of shudders, and the driver, a slight man with sparse hair, came out of the cab.
He nodded at Mae and said, "I hope the road wasn't too bumpy."
"Have we arrived?"
Awkwardly, the driver smoothed down his few hairs with his palm. "I'll go find the shopkeeper, yes?"
***
Mya and Seng managed to pilfer a few seemingly harmless objects: a spoon, a drinking straw, a sheet of notebook paper, and an almost empty roll of scotch tape. Seng could hardly contain her excitement, judging by the fact she kept mumbling to herself, sharing a conspiratorial whisper with Mya from time to time.
Seng had wild brown eyes that flashed with rage with the slightest provocation. She had sparse eyelashes, which gave her gaze an unnatural gleam of constant surprise, as though she had been jolted awake from a disorienting sleep. Her high cheekbones and sunken cheeks made her look older than she was, but her neck had an indisputably juvenile softness. Her arms were wiry, with well-defined muscles surfacing when she struck a particular pose. The sum total of her features gave her an intense feral look. The other girls were frightened of her, which is precisely what Seng wanted.
"Hand me the pills," Seng whispered to Mya when they were alone one night.
Mya gathered the tablets from under her mattress where she had them. Seng placed a single pill on a flat floor tile and carefully crushed it with the back of the spoon. She continued pressing the pill shards until all that was left was a soft white powder. She repeated the operation with the rest of the pills.
Eyeing her handiwork, Seng asked Mya, "Are you sure these pills work?"
"Eve says they make her pee like a horse,” replied Mya.
"They better work, or I won't be your friend anymore."
After all the pills were finely crushed, Seng and Mya used their fingers to sweep the powder onto the leaf of notebook paper. Seng opened only one end of the drinking straw wrapper, carefully extracted it, and pinched one end. She asked Mya to give her a piece of scotch tape and used it to seal one end of the straw.
She handed the straw to Mya. "Just hold it straight up and very still. Don't mess up."
Seng shifted the powder onto the middle of the notebook paper before carefully rolling the sheet into a cone shape with a narrow, sharp point.
"What are you doing?" Mya asked.
"It's a funnel, stupid."
Seng carefully inserted the tip of the funnel into the open end of the straw and slowly poured the pill powder into the straw. She was careful to get every particle possible into the plastic tube before taking it from Mya, pinching its top, and asking her accomplice for another piece of tape. With both ends of the straw sealed, Seng slipped it back into its paper wrapper.
She gave Mya a stern look. “I better hold onto this. I'm older. And we can't screw this up." Mya nodded helplessly. She watched as Seng ripped a tiny hole in her soiled mattress and inserted the straw inside. Seng is so smart, Mya thought. She was lucky to have her as a friend.
***
Kasem took a long shower. He stood perfectly still, face down, letting the water roll over his head. His foreseeable future—no, his entire life—would depend on what happened today. A tiny window of opportunity, but one nonetheless. Would he be able to crawl through it before it slammed shut? Or would he be stuck in this unbearable limbo forever?
Kasem turned off the water, toweled off, pulled on a pair of boxers, and went to the kitchen where Cafe' Girl was brewing a pot of coffee.
She shot him an annoyed look and said, "Dude, wear some clothes!"
"I'm sorry. I thought you left already."
"I folded your laundry."
"You didn't have to do that."
Café Girl frowned. “I don’t know why you always have to say that.”
Confused, Kasem paused. “What did I say?”
She mimicked him, “You don’t have to do that.” It was not a good impression.
“I mean, you don’t,” said Kasem.
“I know that. Do you think I don’t know that? Has it ever occurred to you that I might enjoy doing certain things for you?”
“But why?”
Café Girl touched her forehead as if she was getting a migraine. “Do me a favor, Kasem. Don’t talk so much this morning. Can I pour you a cup of coffee? Can I do that without asking your permission?”
“I would love a cup of coffee,” Kasem said in a conciliatory tone.
Café Girl filled a mug with coffee and handed it to Kasem. He thanked her, only to receive a glare in return.
Kasem lifted the mug, inhaled the rich steam, and took a cautious sip. "The coffee is delicious," he said.
“It’s the same as always. Today’s no different.”
Kasem was about to tell her that today was completely different. By the end of today, he might be a free man. But he couldn’t tell her. There was an equal chance he could be killed today. To him, it was another form of freedom, but he knew Café Girl wouldn’t see it that way.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“You look like you’re in another world.”
Not yet, Kasem thought. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have a few things on my mind.”
She set the coffee pot down walked up to him and took his hand. “You know you don’t have to keep all those feelings bottled up inside. You know you can talk to me.”
Kasem forced a smile. “I know. Thanks.”
“I better get to work,” she said. “See you for dinner? Maybe we can go out tonight.”
“That’ll be great,” Kasem said. As she left the apartment, Kasem wondered if he’d ever see her again. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if that were the case. He had disrupted the poor girl’s life enough already. Perhaps, it was high time for her to be free too. Free of him.
Kasem brought his coffee to the bedroom, set it on the bedside table, and got dressed. He checked his reflection in the mirror before dialing Chariya's phone number. As if it mattered.
Chariya's voice was unusually tense when she picked up. He didn't know her well enough to decide if her agitation was just a matter of nerves or if something had gone wrong. Kasem chose not to ask her directly.
"Did Sicchantha get the master ledger?" Kasem asked.
"Yes. But there's a problem."
Kasem kept a calm tone, though his heart was pounding. "What is it?"
"In the cache of documents that the police recovered from the raid, there were dozens of photographs -- wedding pictures always featuring one of two young men." Kasem had a feeling he knew where this was heading. He said nothing and let Chariya continue. "The police identified one of the two men as a guy by the name of Sakda."
Sakda -- the name sent a shudder down Kasem’s back. Sakda was his old friend, his accomplice, who had turned against him and almost had him killed. It was Sakda who snitched to the police, called in the raid that almost cost Kasem his life.
"They recovered Sakda," Chariya said.
Kasem was confused by her choice of words. "They arrested him?"
“No, they fished his body out of the river. He had a bullet hole in the back of his head."
Sweat gathered at the base of Kasem’s neck. He felt like he had to say something before the weight in his heart became unbearable. "That's what happens when you cross Nakul," he said and regretted the words immediately. He didn't want Chariya to think he was coldhearted. Of course, she would never understand the bad blood that had passed between the two former best friends.
"The other man in those wedding pictures, is that you?" Chariya asked.
“You know I can't reveal my identity. I explained that to you from the very beginning.”
Kasem heard Chariya's voice break over the phone. "I'm not trying to find out who you are! Police commander Makok has circulated those pictures throughout all law enforcement agencies. He's set up a dragnet. If you're that man, you're not safe in Bangkok."
Quietly, Kasem said, "If I'm that man, thanks for the warning."
"Tell me your name," Chariya said. Kasem could hear her sobbing.
Kasem leaned against the wall of his bedroom. He rolled his forehead onto the cold plaster. "Chariya, I'm not a good person."
"I know you've done bad things in the past. But people change. I hear it in your voice every time we talk."
"I hurt everyone I touch."
Kasem heard Chariya sniffle. She sounded more composed, now. "I don't believe that. I don't even think you believe that. I think you want to punish yourself. Haven't you punished yourself enough?"
