Making an impact (4, final)

We recapped the various things that had happened to him. I can remember what he was doing each time we meet, as we do not see each other often.

In the last 12 months alone, he has made small model boats in bottles under a state-funded arts and crafts scheme; he has answered telephones for an employer's association; bought a noodles franchise; and now ended up in Pattaya.

When he broke up with his girlfriend, he gave the assets associated with the noodles franchise to her.

Before that, he worked in a hotel in Silom by days, and a noodle shop at night. He also spent several months on a prawn farm in Chumporn, where he says his friends tricked him out of money. The venture ended disastrously, when the prawns died in an electric shock.

In Pattaya, life is not much better. He has to live with the risk of theft. His so-called friends steal his clothes, his shoes. Then there's the stigma associated with having to work in such a place.

Kew's father, in his late 60s, lives in Bangkok, but Kew seldom sees him. He does not want to ask him for money, as that would be too shameful. He asks me instead.

His mother died of cancer. Kew owns the place in which she lived - a large room in a condo not far from my place - jointly with his younger sister. He stays there when he is in Bangkok.

This puts him within easy reach of me when he pays a visit, as he is threatening - oops, promising - to do again over New Year.

The next night, Kew came to see me again at Mum's shop. I refused to answer his calls - 12 in all, before he arrived - as one night of Kew was enough. However, he is nothing if not dogged. He turned up anyway.

He stayed only briefly, as he wanted to drink with friends nearby.

I had one final duty to perform before he went back to Pattaya.

'Can you take me to a hairdresser's, to set my hair?' he asked.

He called me the day after we met at Mum's shop. I do not often get the chance to accompany Thai boys on errands, so I accepted.

We met in the market where I live. Kew gave me a hug on the street outside my condo. I wonder if any of the judgemental types were watching.

I took him to a place which had cut my hair once before. He took a seat, as a young man busied himself with Kew's hair.

My money had run out, so I left him to visit a cash machine. By the time I returned, it was all over.

'They were not much good. He just put wax in my hair and brushed it,' he said.

'Never mind. Next time, we'll try somewhere else,' I said.

I paid him B100 to cover the hairdresser's bill.

Before he left, I took him to a small eatery, to fill his stomach before his journey. Kew had booked his bus ticket back.

To get there, we had to cross a busy road. He took my hand in his, the way a child might, before guiding me across. Or was I guiding him?

The foodshop owner gave me a curious look. Normally I turn up alone.

Like the folks at Mum's shop, I suspect she was forming a judgement about Kew, and wondering how we came to meet. Next time I visit, I expect to be cross-examined.

A day after Mum threw the packet of cigarettes at him, Kew was still smarting over the incident. 'I am not going back there, and I don't want you to, either,' he said, glowering.

Kew likes to arrange my life when we meet. He behaves like a protective parent, putting my life in order until the next time we get a chance to see each other.

'As for Maiyuu, I don't worry about him any more,' he said, referring to the boyfriend.

That was big of him.

'Do you need to go back to pack your things?' I asked.

'This is it,' said Kew. He was wearing two shirts, which is all he brought from Pattaya. Instead of packing a bag, he just put on his body all the clothes he intended to wear in Bangkok.

'Make sure you answer the phone next time I call,' he said.

At an over-bridge close to home, I gave him another B100 for his taxi fare.

He gave me a wai, and left.