Scratching the Dad itch

Young Pao needs a belt, as his jeans are too big. However, not just any old belt, he told me last night, but one with a large buckle on it, which are popular with teenagers.

'I shall look for you,' I told him.

Before I left, he also asked me for B20, so he could get something to eat, which I gave him.

In a moment of paternal silliness last night, I felt sorry for Pao, whose mother has returned to the provinces and is unlikely to come back again to Bangkok.

Pao and his mother argued before she left, so they parted on bad terms. He seems cheerful enough, though, as he still has the company of a large extended family at the eatery where he lives and works, which is next to Mum's shop.

His uncle Top is there, along with his wife, and Top's older sister, and her young son. I have noticed one other young man working there, and a young girl, though I am not yet sure how they fit in to the family.

Top introduced them by way of telling me about their sexual preferences.

The girl, with tom-boy like looks, prefers girls to boys, he said. The boy, he says, is too young to have found any special friends yet, but likes watching gay porn, and 'shooting at lizards on the ceiling' (masturbating).

As for Pao, Top said, he watches both gay and straight porn.

The young ones listened to Top and laughed.

'If your mother is not here, who will buy you clothes and look after you?' I asked Pao.

'We will go together to the night markets,' he said, which sounded sensible. However, he is in immediate need of a belt, as his jeans are too big. He also needs more t-shirts, as he has just two.

Last night after they finished work, they sat together in the shop, with its shutters half-way down, watching television.

I joined them there, after a customer I wanted to avoid turned up at Mum's shop. He looked like he wanted to talk, but I didn't want to talk to him, so I moved over to Top's shop instead.

As Top's crowd was not drinking, inevitably the conversation turned to alcohol. I said I would bring over a bottle of whisky.

I fetched it from Mum's shop. By the time I returned, my friends had set up a table, brought out five or six glasses, ice, and soda, and assembled the chairs. It looked welcoming.

Between us, we polished off the bottle in under an hour. They were a funny crowd - as close as a real family, not an extended one. Pao and his young cousin enjoy teasing each other. His cousin, despite being younger, has a quick mind and already sounds as worldly-wise as a teenager. He also has his own cellphone.

His mother lives in a nearby soi, while the boy himself sleeps with Pao upstairs. Pao says if they feel lonely or cold, they can hold each other, but there is no bed. They sleep on the floor.

They sound so close that Top could be their Dad, and the girl with tomboy looks could be the boys' sister.

At first, Top was eager for me to get to know the younger boy as well, but I think being a father figure to Pao, who is 16, would be challenge enough.

Pao needs someone to push him along, and of course buy him things.

'Why don't you just give me money?'

'That looks nasty. If we buy things, we all go together, or I will look for you,' I said.

His uncle agreed.

'And if you are bad, you get nothing.'

Top, who knows his nephew well, nodded vigorously.

We would look an odd lot, heading to a night market together in a tuk tuk or a taxi. They rarely get nights off, so it will probably happen only in my imagination. We will see each other just as we do now - to drink. That hardly sounds like happy, healthy families. Eight is Enough it is not.