Lost in Pattaya Read Online Free PDF Page A

fuming incense sticks pointed upwards,
bowing before moving around the sanctum, trying to send the scented fumes towards
their Lord. The circular motion of their palms urged the smoke upwards in
reverent circles. Children played in the temple courtyard, none of them looked
despondent or dull from prolonged crying, which is what I searched for in any
kid I saw, hoping to accidentally stumble upon my baby, with only the mending
required from the damage that two nights can inflict upon a child. I would heal
her if I found her, and then rebuild my family. I too, bought incense sticks,
mimicking the pious, praying the only two prayers that I prayed in the years
ahead, the prayer of a reunion in the first few years and then the simple
prayer of peace for all, including Li Ya, wherever it is that she was.
    Since I was sober, I made the futile visit
to the police station before returning to the hotel, confirming and printing
tickets that were waiting in my Inbox. I let Fang Wei know my travel plans by
email, and then I dialled SriJaya’s number, which went unanswered all evening,
leaving me wanting to mine the sewers in desperation, down which I had flushed
the coke in my silly act of rehabilitation earlier that afternoon. I felt
anxious, knowing that I could not fall asleep that night; my mind was too
charged up, and the absence of drug would keep sleep from me, simply because my
thoughts would criss-cross in contrition. Drinking and sleeping was an option
but the vast quantity of alcohol required for that would defeat the purpose of
being reasonable before I flew out of Pattaya on the following morning. I could
head back to the brothel, where I had spent the previous night; the coke, the
grass and the gentle caress of the prostitute would do the trick, and the
flight too would be left manageable in the morning. But, I forced myself to
remain in the room, not even opening and checking the contents of the mini bar
because I knew if I imbibed, I would hesitate in taking the sleeping pills that
I always carried on me, prescription pills from Singapore, strong ones, for
nights that involved no intoxication. I had been advised not to take those with
alcohol, using them only after I was unable to fall asleep, after a few hours
of trying. Yet, that night, like all nights when I used them, I popped one
straight away, just before midnight, along with half a tablet of an
anti-anxiety drug that I carried, from another doctor in Singapore. Those two
pills worked well together and both had prescriptions which made them safe for
me to carry in moderation. I also took an anti-inflammatory for my stomach,
which I could feel flaring with all of the alcohol drunk recently and the acid
accumulation from the deprivation of food, which the coke had thrown my abdomen
into. I was glad the medication worked out, it helps immensely when you suspect
a mild bout of cold-turkey; and I decided to head to the gym in the morning
before I flew to Manila. Of course, I would I make the useless visit to the
Thai police, before I flew out.
     
    * *
*
     
    On the flight, tears, they just flooded my
face. Having slept a full eight hours, and relatively substance free, the
grieving began, in the company of strangers. They ignored me, knowing that in
every crowd there is a pensive one. They were cautious when I began weeping,
given that we were airborne, but in a few minutes my flight neighbours simply
left me alone, realizing I was just another broken man, not intending to harass
or harm anyone. In about twenty minutes, I had refused food and booted my
laptop up, scanning the papers that I would show the manager of purchases at
the Bank of Manila. The reading was important for me to prepare for my
meetings, and, my half-heartedness in grasping what lay on the screen was
enough preparation given my years of experience. My preoccupation though, was
with the other gnawing half of my con-sciousness, the loss of Li Ya, and the
fate that this day would bring upon her, and, the