Deleted Posts In The Wrong Section - Of The 3Rd Kind

[JaiRai]

Note: Excuse the blatant Grammar and spelling errors, one day I'll stop being a lazy cunt and will learn to proofread. I'm not a story teller but exploring it - if you have any feedback on what works and what doesn't let me know (e.g. 'this sucks and so do you,' 'god awful,' 'i just printed your story so i had something to wipe my ass with,' etc.).

 

Going out of town for a work project today and return on the weekend. Will wrap this tale up when I get back.

[JaiRai]

"Danny, what was the number the tuk tuk driver gave you in Bangkok?" I look it up on my phone: “053219490â€

 

Malee points. In front of her is a beat up sign.

 

 

 

Ken's eyes widen and Malee nods, then she says "Danny, I have a question."

 

Sorry. I'm way too distracted and curious for questions and hold up my index finger to indicate 'one moment' and walk into the shop behind the strange sign.

 

Two attendants resembling Abbot and Costello nurse beers while watching slapstick comedy on Thai TV.

 

My attempts at Thai with the shop workers leads to confusion. Gah.

Malee comes in to help. Gratefully. She describes Ning to the shop owners... nothing. Then with my input she describe Ning’s home and the cherry tree. They give each other a funny look and converse with her in a hushed tone.

 

After a few moments she looks up with serious intent "they want to know what her actual name was?"

“Ning.â€

"No,†she’s irritated - "the name she gave you when you first asked her - the family name.â€

"Ummmmm….shit†A light goes on somewhere in the grey matter. "Parisa Jang… jang-hua-ree-nakawn?"

 

Christ how did I remember that?

 

She repeats the name to the shop attendants. The tall one on the left is shaken and makes a gesture washing his hands of everything. He walks off. The short one with the more thoughtful face stares at me point blank with a pensive expression, then guides us behind the shop. Fuck me. It's the house. Ning’s house.

 

But it's not the house. Not the same as I remember it. Modifications and additions have been made, and there's no cherry tree - anywhere. Where the cherry tree sat, there is an old OLD statue. I look closer.

 

 

 

The sensation I became acquainted with for the first time a couple days prior reintroduces itself. The pressure starts. A noise like someone holding a high speed drill adjacent to my ear drum grinds on, increasing in volume until a sharp jolt of electric pain shoots like a feral firework display behind the eyes.

 

White noise...

 

I wake up muddled on the living room floor somewhere. Wait. I know this. Ken and Malee’s place. I become aware that they stand above me and are speaking to a woman in the shadows. She's beyond my peripheral vision.

 

With effort I turn and focus… it’s the old Khmer woman from the street.

 

What the fuck.

[JaiRai]

The old Khmer woman sees I'm awake and walks over gesturing for me to lay back. I struggle to stand; have a hard time with it. She puts a hand on my chest and with light pressure forces me back, then lights several incense sticks.

 

Suspended 5 or 6 feet above me a pattern of strings is tied back and forth across the room, a maze with no solution. In the center hangs a long banner written in a language I don't know, but at the bottom is that symbol again - same as Ning's tattoo.

 

Part of my mind is in lockdown at the strange turn my life has taken, waiting to snap out of it. But -- another part is engaged and curious like nothing I've ever experienced. And in reality, it has no choice. The alternative is to become a raving lunatic.

 

The old woman dabs a warm liquid on my forehead and hands. It looks like blood. She hums something I can't understand in a low guttural pitch.

 

White noise. No pain this time, I fade fast.

 

I'm with Ning, she looks a decade younger than I knew her just yesterday - now in her early 20s. We eat together on the floor in a hut, except I'm not me. I'm someone else. We're speaking a language I understand perfect but it's not English, and it's not modern Thai. Ning can't contain her enthusiasm I've been awarded a position serving a regional noble family. It means my parents, my sister, and myself will be moved to a better home and higher status. But something is not right... I feel an unease.

 

White noise.

 

It's late night, pitch black no moon. I stand in front of the family's new living quarters, proud and laughing with Ning, my parents asleep inside. There's a rustling on the edge of the jungle behind our home. Several men appear, one of them I recognize - the oldest son of the family I serve. A respectable married man in his 40s, I don't understand what he is doing here. Fear registers on Ning's face.

 

"You thought I would let you go?" he says with a hateful smirk at Ning. And then mutters something about doing black deeds. I shoot an expression at her that says "what is happening?" and in a millisecond her eyes tell all. The past rejection of a nobleman's advances. He was here for something foul.

 

The jolt of pain at the blow to the base of my skull is followed by a creeping fog in my vision. Two men drag me into the home and dump me on the floor with a snicker. Another crushing blow with a stick to my face. I slip in and out of conscious.

 

The laughs of the men diminish and I hear a different sound. Coughs and panting. This is followed by the nauseous smell of smoke everywhere. The coughs are coming from my mother who is kneeling next to me trying to bring me back to consciousness. She manages to maneuver me close to the door but can't open it. The way is barred. No sign of father and sister. The heat is singeing my hair and burning my skin. I open my mouth to cry out in pain but it is so parched nothing comes out. I hear Ning's muffled screams in the distance.

 

White noise.

[JaiRai]

Somebody is shaking me. Fuck that I don't want to wake up, I don't want visions or dreams. I want to doze off into warm sleep. The heaven of not being present in the moment. But that ain't to be. They shake me with even more vigor, "Danny wake up," I feel a light smack across the face followed by ice cold water. Bastards.

 

"God Damnit," I open my eyes.

"Sorry buddy.."

This has got to be one of the rare occasions I've heard Ken apologetic. Interesting.

 

The old Khmer woman, Malee and Ken all crouch above me. The old woman is so close I smell the overwhelming odor of garlic and spice on her breath. She draws out the symbols from Ning's tattoo on a scrap of paper.

 

 

"Nii-ah" - she motions to the symbols "girl have this chai-mai?"

"Chai" I say. "is it black magic, voodoo?"

Malee laughs. "It's the number 33"

Malee continues, "That number the tuk tuk driver gave you, and the number from the shop..." she holds up a pad with a simple equation, the numbers add up to 33.

 

Ken shrugs "this is all weirder than weird, but what's the big deal about 33?"

 

The old Khmer woman and Malee become animated and engage in a rapid exchange. I can't make heads or tails of it. Malee translates as the Khmer woman motions for her to explain.

 

"she say that 33 is a number, a symbol, the number itself is not what's important."

Ken starts to talk but she cuts in; "what is important, is the meaning behind the symbol."

 

"Who is this? Kao bpen Krai?" I ask about the Khmer woman.

"I don't know the word in English" says Malee. "She studies things people don't understand"

"Hmmmm" is all I can think to respond.

 

"She wants to tell you something Danny"

Malee knows my skepticism, I see her reluctance.

 

Ken grows irritable and impatient. "Malee, just fucking say whatever it is" he lets out.

Like me, Ken is about as secular and atheist as you can get. He and Malee have always been an odd couple that somehow worked.

 

"Ok," she takes a breath.

"33..."

"All over the world this number is used to symbolize a big spiritual disturbance. In Buddhist numerology, if someone's birthday is reduced to 33 it means something with big power is going to happen around them. In Christianity your Jesus was crucified at the age of 33. In Tibet, the Book of the Dead has 33 heavens ruled by Indra and 33 ruled by Mara, In the I Ching the 33rd hexagram..."

 

"We got it" Ken cuts her off.

 

"Can I have a drink?" I ask anyone who will listen. I sit thinking. "Look Malee, I'm skeptical about my own skepticism because of this craziness, but I don't get what it means"

 

Malee continues "The old woman thinks that you have somehow become connected to these people and a terrible event from a long time ago" she looks back at the Khmer woman, nods, "the old woman has been drawn here, she senses the disruption."

 

Ken interrupts. "Malee, I give people a little respect for their beliefs but I don't want a witch doctor taking advantage. Whatever is going on there is a rational explanation, not some supernatural chain reaction..."

 

What Malee says next surprises me the most.

 

"You ever hear of..."

"quantum knot, quantum involvement, quantum..." her face strains for the right word.

 

"quantum entanglement?" I ask. "Yeah I've heard of it"

"What the hell is quantum entanglement" ken looks perplexed. "And where did you learn about it?" he asks Malee.

 

"Humboldt University Berlin." She can't suppress the grin.

 

"It's what Einstein called 'spooky action at a distance,'" I explain. "I'm far from an expert but the layman's definition goes something like this.."

 

"If a particle interacts with another particle in a certain way, they become 'entangled,' once that happens -- if you separate the particles and take an action on one, it will effect the other. No matter how far they may be separated in space, or even time."

 

Ken kinda squints and I can see him processing this, shaking his head and muttering.

 

The old Khmer woman gets up and hands me a small bag of fish cooked in banana leaf. "I make for you" she smiles, then she goes to leave.

 

"Please wait..." I grab her arm.

"What am I supposed to do?"

 

"Mai bpen Rai" she says. Then mutters something to Malee.

"she says there are some things a Buddhist can do, but you still have to live with it"

 

"Seriously? I can't live like this. What would a Thai person do?"

"A Thai would 'mai bpen rai'" she says. "But you are not Thai Daniel..."

 

It's the way she says it. You are not Thai Daniel. She doesn't say it as an insult, but almost in hope - like she wants me to do something about it. But I'm beat, dead, exhausted, looking to escape.

 

We go out to dinner and pretend, but the mood is pensive. The next few days I spend drinking, watching movies, fornicating with easily accessible women -- still my spirit is flat, lifeless. The visions have all stopped. Nothing.

 

A couple weeks later I'm back at my job in Southern California, advising clients on how to improve performance. A life of pretend.

 

Several months pass going through the motions. Work, eat, watch TV, pretend. Engage in the same scripted conversations with the same people. Entropy. Thoughts of Ning recede and I convince myself I had a mental breakdown due to stress.

 

Then one night I doze off.

 

I find myself laying in a field surrounded by thousands of birds. They alight in flight all at the same time and in the ensuing chaos I grip the earth in the prone position, hoping not to have my eyes and limbs clawed or pecked out. In a moment the birds are gone, and there's a small river in front of me with a wild current. Across the other side I see Ning and she is smiling. I'm overcome by a surge of emotion and desire to see her. I begin to cross but the current is too strong..

 

From the far bank Ning extends a branch, a lifeline for me to grasp. I take the branch and struggle towards her. Right before I reach the shore she smiles at me, then lets go of the branch and disappears. I'm swept away.

 

I wake up soaking in sweat. I don't sleep the rest of the night. Or the next couple nights. I withdraw. Out at the market, at home, at work, wherever - always hiding. I start obsessing over a Dylan Thomas line and cannot get away from it "Do not go gentle into the good night." For a week or so I scribble it. I paint it. I type it. That and the number 33.

 

Then one day I go to work. I post my car on ebay at half price. I quit my job, my high paying successful career. I tell my friends and colleagues I'm having a "rummage take" meaning they can show up at my home and take what they want.

 

I buy my flight back to Chiang Mai.

 

Like the prodigal son, it's time to return. I don't Mai bpen rai very well. I like to think Dylan Thomas would approve.

[JaiRai]

das ende.

 

เสร็จà¹à¸¥à¹‰à¸§

[My Penis is hungry]

Thank you!

[khunsanuk]

Hi,

 

Great read. Thanks.

 

Sanuk!