chuckwoww Posted August 13, 2003 Report Share Posted August 13, 2003 The Gods Are Hungry?© 2003 by chuckwoww Arthur leans back in his deckchair and stares out across the Gulf of Thailand. He can do this for hours. When he lived on Samui he spent most of his day on Chaweng Beach?always on the same stool in the Coconut Bar?staring out to sea. But that was before Chaweng became a sort of tropical Skegness. He?d moved to Lamai, barely one jump ahead of the fish ?n chips shops, and thence to Isaan, the undeveloped Thai hinterland which he had found much more to his taste. Isaan was slow, unhurried, with little in the way of tourist attractions. It was easy to slip into the rhythm of the place, wet season followed dry, hot got hotter, and days blurred into one another. One evening by the bug zapper, Tui, his wife of 7 years, had suggested a trip to Pattaya. Arthur had agreed. A change was as good as a rest?not that he really needed one, but he had always liked Pattaya. It was honest in its own seedy way; never pretending to be other than what it was?until quite recently anyway?when the local council started performing mental acrobatics trying to balance sin and safety. In fact Arthur doesn?t care much what the Thais do with their cities anymore. Neither does Tui, who, sensibly, is in another deckchair, to his left, tucking into a plate of deep-fried prawns she just bought from one of the vendors that swarm like sand flies among the pink and red foreign bodies. This is Tui?s second visit to Pattaya and she loves it, doesn?t find it tacky at all. Neither, after a beer or two, and a bit of a paddle, does Arthur. He is content to just lie back and relax. Try to anyway. Chewing gum? No thanks. Newspaper? No. Not even the Bangkok Post, thrust uninvitingly in his face by yet another vendor, can hold his attention for very long. Hang on a sec?he buys one anyway?six British soldiers killed in Iraq?hmmm?a mess to be sure?but Arthur is more interested in watching the clouds. He isn?t looking for omens or anything but he enjoys the constantly changing and evolving shapes. Above him immense billows are forming faces of Bush, Blair and Bin Laden?potent images that dominate his thoughts these days?more and more he is seeing pagan gods among the clouds?vengeful old Egyptian and Hebrew Gods?Osiris, Anubis, Set, and Yahweh, Zeus programming a handful of smartbolts, Mars in his war chariot, criss-crossed by parasailers?and of course old Priapus is up there too, ogling the banana-boat-load of topless waving bargirls. It must all mean something thinks Arthur?these images from school history books surprisingly well etched into his memory, redolent of English summers, hours spent avoiding homework, lying on his back in the long grass listening to the sharp clack of willow bats meeting leather cricket balls. Then Sunday School and another kind of God?a stern but loving god who valued good table manners highly?who thought that children should be seen but not heard and whose first commandment was ?thou shalt not pick thy nose or otherwise embarrass thy parents in front of the neighbours? and the second was ?don?t play with your winkle there?s a good boy?? American soldiers getting bumped off left and right, lot?s of angry young Muslim men with time on their hands, non-existent WMD, Blair telling whoppers, and recently, according to the Bangkok Post, pipelines blown up, clerics getting stabbed to death in An Najaf?it must all worry Bush surely?assuming he worries about anything ?it worries Arthur?a Muslim army soundly trounced, humiliated really but still they persist in their old ways?more Islamic than ever now probably?showing no respect for the loving Christian American god come to bring them all the wonders of a democratic consumer oriented society?do they need more fire and brimstone before they admit the error of their ways?more shock and awe? Do we have to send Billy Graham at the head of an army of evangelists before they see reason and embrace the joys and wonders of the modern age? Would that cause the stock markets to rally and the wounds of 911 to heal? Goodness, thinks Arthur, blinking in the sunlight, where does this stuff come from? I never used to have such thoughts. Life used to be so simple before?before what? Now it?s all Ishtar and Gilgamesh weeping in the ruins of Babylon trounced by Bradley Fighting Vehicles and Cobra Gunships driven and/or piloted by wholesome young men and women from Texas and Indiana eager to demonstrate that everything is manageable if you just punch in the right data. Well CNN can spin it anyway they want but they can?t fool Arthur. There will be no mass Christian baptisms in this ancient land...just the scowling, bearded Gods of Mesopotamia, impassive, enduring, trotting along on their little donkey carts...biding their time?or perhaps sullen and confused?annoyed and irritated at having their retirement years disturbed by strange clanking chariots?and what?s this glittering Grail-like object dangling before Arthur?s eyes?ah?a fake Rolex...no thank-you? Meanwhile, up in the clouds, the gods are still hard at it?the sky is full of them today?jostling for his attention?inscrutable Old Chinese deities, a procession of anthropomorphic Hindu chaps. Buddha? Not that he was a god exactly but is he up there too? If so he is probably happy just to exist?probably doesn?t feel quite the same need to assert himself and vie for people?s attention as the other fellows? Am I going to die here? Arthur wonders?in Thailand? People did die here?by ?people? he means foreigners of course?they die all the time?in accidents, from natural causes, poisoned by jealous wives. What happened to all the bodies? Did anybody really want them? Would Tui have his body burned or just have the bloody thing shipped back to England?whichever was most economical probably?Her Majesty?s Government were unlikely to want it anymore?no I do not want a bloody cigarette lighter thank you?not even that phallic one. Very irritating these vendors. They had grown much more rude and persistent lately?in fact the worse business got the ruder and more persistent they became. How much could they make selling that stuff anyway?a hundred baht a day? Two? The woman with the cigarette lighters?she probably walks miles every day and if she?s lucky she might sell one? Yes it?s true Arthur likes to complain about how Thailand isn?t what it used to be but in a way he doesn?t really care. He has enjoyed the best years?long before the Internet and the nose-rings and the tattooed midriff-raff?before the bargirls started calling him Papa. Could be worse Arthur old chap?at least you?re not under a bridge somewhere sniffing glue. Arthur starts to think about England. But not for long. Somebody is waving something under his nose...a grilled chicken foot it looks like?er?no thank you?but I will have ?let me see?a boiled egg and a slice of pineapple? From his deckchair Arthur has a panoramic view of the beach. Straight ahead is a charming vignette, a vestige of the Thailand he loves, a Thai family gathering toxic shellfish?3 generations of Thais, seeing the ocean for the first time in their lives probably. Would Arthur care to be young again? Yes and no. Certainly it would be nice to have a young healthy body instead of the pear-shaped bundle of twigs, with it?s various run down components, he currently calls home?it would be nice to have perfect hearing again too, real teeth, good eyesight, a bladder that he had some control over. Nice too not to have to listen to worrying murmurs from the prostrate region. But to be young in today?s world? No thank you. Not with things the way they are, polluted, over-crowded and teetering on the brink of some unimaginable disaster. He pities young people in a way?their heads buzzing with all kinds of useless rubbish, the minefield of ideas and misinformation they have to navigate?the dubious quality of their role models?the pressures to conform at odds with all the pressures to be different. Things hadn?t been like that in Arthur?s youth?or had they? Even young people, he noticed, seemed to have a tired cynical edge to them nowadays as if they had already seen too much?they enjoy themselves Arthur supposes?with a sort of fin du monde abandon. What? Oh you again?no I still don?t want the cigarette lighter?mai ao kap?no bloody want OK? And as for casual sex these days?forget it?gone were the days when you could pick your way through puddles and across wooden planks to a tin shack full of giggling peasant girls?their attention now suddenly divided between a black and white TV and the alien creature that just stumbled in? Nobody worried about AIDS in those days. Looking back over his years in Thailand he cannot believe some of the places where he has dipped his wick. He had been darn lucky not to catch anything worse than chlamydia. Well those days were gone, along with Listen With Mother, bluebell woods, Bertrand Russell and casual fornication. Anybody fool enough to dabble in that kind of thing nowadays deserved to get cockrot. Didn?t seem to stop them though? Arthur must have dozed off?when he wakes the sky is still there but the gods have scattered?replaced by Andy Pandy, Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men and Muffin the Mule, ?(early BBC icons if you?re wondering)?Arthur had watched the new black and white miracle along with thousands of other middle-class English children but it?s hard to say what he felt. He had watched the images mainly because they moved, not because he was particularly engrossed in the activities of a few primitive puppets or because he wanted to see what they did next. It was the potential of the medium that intrigued him?the feeling that if he watched enough of it something important might occur?with luck someone might even pop up and explain what life was supposed to be about?but no?Bill, Ben, Andy, Muffin et al. were simply eased out, gently, by Tiswas and the Teletubbies. It was a curious time?the tail end of Empire?a class hierarchy nobody questioned...a rigid school system?national service, Brylcreem. The war years had changed everything?the bombed cities?the primrose banks, the steam engines, the solid continuity of rural England before the Empire came home to roost?and oh my goodness?quite a tussle going on up there now?bearded Assyrians girding their loins, being chased by teenaged Mexican rappers in HUMVs?four star generals fighting it out with Phantom Flan Flingers? What dear? Oh yes, thank you?Tui has just dismembered a crab and she is offering him a prime morsel ? ?I very angry,? said Tui?she meant hungry of course, it was a long-standing joke they had?one of many based on language misunderstandings?she was enjoying herself though?she?d had a tough life and she?d been looking forward to this trip?good to see her making the most of it. Coming to Thailand?all those years ago had been the best thing he?d ever done. Of course the Thais were just as daft and materialistic as everybody else, even worse in some ways, but they were friendly for the most part and nonjudgmental. He?d found a new life of sorts among them. Not that there can ever be any real escape from the past, Arthur knows that. And perhaps that?s why he envies the Thais their ability to live in the present. Say what you like about the buggers but they did seem to have a knack for taking one day at a time. Had some of it rubbed off on him Arthur wonders? Had he, almost by default, finally achieved some kind of Oriental oneness? Certainly there are times, like now, beaten to submission by the tropical sun, when he imagines himself having no tangible existence outside of his own imagination. He looks across at Tui. He?d been lucky to meet her when he did. Bless her heart she had kept him off the bottle. Not that she?d ever really understood him?or perhaps she had?never beautiful?downright ugly in a way?with her nostrils and her mouthful of crooked teeth...this strange rather Simian little creature from Isaan who had so readily agreed to share his last lonely years?and she still had a smile that could melt his heart. Look at her now?got the bloody cell phone in her ear again. Could be talking to any one of dozens of sisters, cousins and friends back in Isaan. They all had cell phones now. What did they find to natter about? Anything at all apparently?the weather, the price of fish oil, who?d been to the wat and who hadn?t?nothing much more substantial than that?none of them had ever heard of Armageddon. What a strange life it had been. So many twists and turns and people and events?so many choices?good ones and bad ones ?that had brought him to this time and place. And then as he watches?something very strange happens?the clouds roll back as if to demonstrate a new advance in special effects?the sky is filled with a vast blinding brilliant light?a revelatory flash as it were?and he catches a glimpse of Tui?off to his right?Our Lady of Pattaya ?ordering another plate of prawns?it is the last thing he ever sees. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Central Scrutinizer Posted August 13, 2003 Report Share Posted August 13, 2003 Chuck, Hahaha! Wonderful. Thank you very much for that. I enjoyed it very much. So basically the damned beach vendors pestered Arthur to death. I know how he feels. :-) Thanks again Chuck. A great read. Cent Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dexi Posted August 13, 2003 Report Share Posted August 13, 2003 Very entertaining and well written...gets the Pattaya/Jomtien beach atmosphere really well...when`s the book coming out... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Oldtimer Posted August 14, 2003 Report Share Posted August 14, 2003 Good shot Sir! Very well played! Only quibble might be that might be that one is somewhat suprised that a chap with all Arthur's phyisical aging aliments is young enough to remember children's programmes on black and white TV. Of course, he might have watched them with kids of his own. By the way, I suppose that one is in Arthur's age group. Also an old Pattaya fan approx. 1970-89. Now based in less frenetic, but almost as seedy, Phuket. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chuckwoww Posted August 14, 2003 Author Report Share Posted August 14, 2003 Thanks for the feedback. I really have no way of knowing if my stories are any good. Sometimes I think they might be and sometimes it looks like pretentious crap. Book? I don't know. I have lots of bits and pieces. Perhaps one day I'll figure out how they all fit together. Thanks for the nice comments. But be careful.... I may be encouraged to post more often. Chuck Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chuckwoww Posted August 14, 2003 Author Report Share Posted August 14, 2003 Arthur is a fictional character so his ailments have been exagerated somewhat. His family did however have the first black and white TV on the street where he grew up in England. The front garden was often full of people trying to peak through the curtains. It got to be quite a problem. Arthur's mother...being a sociable sort...would invite them in for cup's of tea much to his father's displeasure. cheers Chuck Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
changnoi Posted August 15, 2003 Report Share Posted August 15, 2003 I like this. Very readable; gentle, musing tone. Nitpicking ? Well, "the banana-boat-load of topless waving bargirls" - haven't seen this in Pattaya. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chuckwoww Posted August 15, 2003 Author Report Share Posted August 15, 2003 It used to be quite a common sight. But you make a good point. Times change. Perhaps what Arthur saw was a banana-boat-load of 'ghostly' topless waving bargirls? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pattaya127 Posted August 16, 2003 Report Share Posted August 16, 2003 Thanks for the good read. More Arthurs on the way... Always more! PS: finally a trip report without sex :applause: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Central Scrutinizer Posted August 16, 2003 Report Share Posted August 16, 2003 P127, Hell man. It's hard to have sex and report on it once you've croaked on the freakin' beach, 'ey? :-) Cent Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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