Danger on the riverbank (part 2)

View of the Pin Khlao bridge

Three months later…

My young friend Kew is a rebel: scruffy jeans, track shoes, old T-shirt. He wears old socks that smell and another two layers (shorts and underpants) under his jeans. He once wore a tongue stud, and prefers earrings that are jagged and sharp.

He smokes at least 50 cigarettes a day, fights with his Mum, is addicted to clubbing, is rarely at home. All this, and only 20.

This erratic, crazy, pushy boy, glides about gracefully, talks the toughest street talk, and wears a shy smile. He is also is adept at demanding money.

I have seen him on good days, when he jokes, likes to be held, and can't keep that smile off his face.

I have seen him on days when his hair falls flat, his face is swollen, sullen and pouty,
he walks with a slouch and talks about killing himself.

He called me one night just before Songkran.

As usual, Maiyuu was out, and I was at home alone.

Kew's mother lives near me. His friends had just dropped him off after a trip
to Phuket.

He was waiting in the market where I live, and would I like to come down?

At first I did not want to hear from Kew and hung up.

I tried sticking the phone under the pillow, sitting on it, switching it off, leaving
it in the other room, but in the space of those five or 10 minutes he just kept ringing,
so in the end I gave up.

Kew's face was darker, but his sun-tan was to fade in just 24 hours.
He wore a white t-shirt which looked as tired as he did.

His eyes looked sore and I asked him if he was eating and sleeping.

'Not much,' he said.

We sat at a little shop next to my place for a few beers, after I resisted his strenuous efforts to go off to a nearby beer garden.

The next day the owner of that store told one of Maiyuu’s gay friends that I was drinking there with a new boy.

The boy from the condo told Maiyuu, who confronted me.

‘You have been seeing Kew again,’ he said accusingly.

‘I was going to tell you – I just hadn’t figured out what to say,’ I said unconvincingly.

Kew was not popular the last time he came into my life, and my partner was angry to hear he had returned.

A few days, Maiyuu went away to a different province, to celebrate Songkran with friends.

He stayed away a week, which gave me plenty of time to get reacquainted with Kew.

On the first night of freedom Kew took me to a nightclub in the Or Tor Gor nightstrip, close to Chatuchak Park. We drank a bottle of whisky. On the way back in the taxi, he fell asleep in my lap as I stroked his head.

At first he was shy, and would not get up to dance, even when I did.

After a few more drinks, he was dancing like a demon.

I danced with him in my arms, his childlike hands in mine, his body writhing. He dipped, swerved, bobbed, showed off.

The music was loud and I had trouble hearing for days, but Kew, and my imagination,
came alive.

On the first night, I did not know what Kew wanted. He told me his mother gave him B500 a day (more than I get to spend), so I didn't have to worry about him asking for money. We shared the price of the beers and I gave him a taxi fare home.

By the second night the story was becoming clearer. He and his mother had argued,
and she had thrown him out of the house.

The money had dried up, he was sleeping at a friend's place, and was looking for a place to live. His eye was infected and he may need an operation. He had no work, but would start training as a DJ that week.

A friend was opening a nightclub and wanted to hire Kew as a DJ, but that would take two weeks. Most of Kew's friends were still in Phuket or had gone home to their families.

The third night was one of Kew's worst. He looked shocking, sweated profusely, and was talking about killing himself. We met on the banks of a canal close to my home.

He told me his father pays his mother an allowance, but that she gambles it away.

She gives money to Kew, but then asks for it back, to feed her gambling habit. He does not feel happy at home and goes out at night to escape.

Kew and I met regularly, usually after midnight. I told him he could sleep at our place,
after he had met my boyfriend. Kew did not want to meet him until his life had improved: a job, income, place to live.

At first I was not sure if Kew was gay or just needed a friend with money.
Towards the end of the week, he asked me what I thought.

'Eighty per cent [gay],' I said.

'No, the whole lot,' he said.

A few nights before, I introduced Kew to a Spanish friend and his boyfriend, and we went dancing.

Later that night Kew came back to my place. We talked, and he left.

Next time I saw him, Kew was having another one of his bad days. He had not sold his body for sex to anyone, but might be forced to unless he found cash soon.

If I entered a relationship with him, he would expect me to take responsibility:
pay his rent, study expenses, living costs, buy him a cellphone.

I would have to split my income and time between him and my partner. It would be my choice how I did that, but a relationship with him would not come for free.

The night before, Kew told me he did not need an eye operation after all, but still
needed help with doctor's bills and the rent.

He had found a place to live, and his mother paid the deposit. However, she was not prepared to help with the rent. That would set me back B2500 a month, if I decided to pay.

A Thai friend urged me not to pay his day-to-day expenses, as that would just delay
further the day when Kew had to go home and defuse the row with his mother.

For feeding and clothing this child was not my responsibility, but that of his family.

I urged Kew repeatedly to go home, but he insisted his mother would not let him back.
One day I called his home and his sister, not yet 10, took the call.

'Is Kew in?'

No, she said in a quiet voice.

'Do you know when he will be back?'

‘No,’ she said again.

The next day, Maiyuu was back from his trip, and we spent the day arguing. I told him I wanted to split up.

I wanted to be single again, but of course he didn't believe that: he was sure I wanted to live with Kew.

In truth, I didn't: Kew is far too young. Once I told Kew he was too young to be my boyfriend, because he knew nothing about life. Kew said he was eager to learn.

My partner and I dug up old ground. I said he was no good at showing his love, if indeed he felt any. He thought nothing of disappearing for days with his friends, leaving me alone; he's seldom at home when I need company.

Maiyuu insisted he loved me. He has no close family, and no regular work.

In tears, he called his best friend and said we were breaking up. Then he left the room.

When Maiyuu came back, he prostrated himself at my feet, and thanked me for the life we had spent together. He said it without self-pity or sarcasm.

I cried, and we held each other. I sang to him. Neither of us were much use to each other because we were crying too much. He picked up my foot and started massaging it. 'I will miss this foot,' he said.

The persistent Kew must have sensed the tide was turning. He phoned me all day, as I argued with my partner, and again that night. He made more than 20 calls, from one phone box after another. He wanted to know whether I was prepared to pay his rent.

'I could rent a place close to your work, and you could stay with me instead of going home to him,' he would say.

The next day I relented, and finally took his call. By then he suspected I was not prepared to help.

I didn't want him to become dependent on my hand-outs. In any case, it didn't matter: his mother had decided to let him back home, so he had a place to stay. He still wanted to know if I would take him to the eye doctor (B400 for eye drops).

He agreed we should be friends rather than boyfriends; but I reminded him that friends are just that - they don't ask for money all the time. 'I will just have to find someone new,' he said.

What did he mean? I suspected Kew came back into my life to break up my relationship, and insert himself in Maiyuu's place. He was tired of home and wanted his wings.

Yet still I could not let him go. Kew asked me if we should stop seeing each other, and I said no. My partner and I had agreed on a new financial arrangement, I said, and soon I would have more money.

Kew looked miserable, but I rubbed his neck, and reminded him that my friends thought he was handsome. That smile reappeared, and he ran off into the night.

Back at home, I told Maiyuu that I wanted Kew to be my brother (my latest
wheeze to justify our being together).

I phoned Kew at home and told him I wanted to meet his Mum. Kew sounded surprised and pleased that I was showing interest again - but I know I am holding out false hope. The more I see him, even as an 'elder brother,' the more addicted I will become.

The truth is, I cannot afford this boy. I can't afford him financially, and nor will my relationship with my partner survive.

Maiyuu and I will continue to argue and bicker until we have destroyed
the precious heart and mind stuff that keeps us together.

I will be left with a boy who does not yet understand the word 'commitment'.
I will have lost a solid, dependable young man who knows the meaning of love, if not how to express it.

At times Maiyuu puts up meek resistance to Kew; at other times he remembers what we have, and fights his corner.

Songkran, a Thai friend tells me, is a time of renewal. As old, tired souls limp home, the previous day spent, bright new stars whirl in the sky, eager for their chance.

This year, Songkran led me down the path of distraction, but also reminded me what true love and commitment - with all its painful ups and downs - is about.

Postscript: Maiyuu has spotted Kew, lurking under the bridge near my home.
He says Kew also spotted him, too, gave him a sour look, and ran away. The boyfriend doubts he is gay (and I agree), but he says it is common for young straight men with a pleasant face to come on to gays, and cheat them of their money.

now, see part 3