Boyfriend asks for gift, Ball asks for nothing

‘I shall prepare myself for the day when you turn up with Ball and say he’s moving in, and that I have to move out,’ said Maiyuu, after I told him the story of Ball.

I thought I had better come clean, as my friendship with Ball has been preying on my mind.

Maiyuu had noticed changes in my behaviour, which meant he already suspected I had met someone new. I might as well tell him.

‘When he’s sober, he’s straight. When he’s drunk, he likes men,’ I said, while adding that Ball lost his Dad a few years ago, and dislikes his mother's current partner, Lort.

‘He lives with his girlfriend, but is sick of her. He likes being with me because we can talk – though I also hug him, massage him, and care for him,’ I said.

Maiyuu listened patiently. He did not get angry: ‘I don’t have the right,’ he said. ‘It’s your life.’

‘But if you did feel you had the right to comment, what would you say?’ I asked.

‘You hardly buy me any gifts to show your love for me. If I found out that you had been buying things for someone you barely know, how do you think I’d feel?’

‘I have hardly bought him a thing. Lotion for his scalp...that’s it,’ I said, while declining to add that I had been thinking of buying him clothes as well. Naughty farang, park that thought!

I proposed a solution. ‘I might have to stop accompanying him back to his place. That’s when I start caring for him, as I can’t do it at the ya dong stand...it’s too public,’ I said.

What a pragmatic fellow I am. I should have added: ‘I might have to insist on my right to walk home unaccompanied as well, as we also like to cuddle and hug on the vacant lot between his place and mine.’

I left that bit out. One can be too generous with information.

Maiyuu’s spirits cheered. By late yesterday – when I took myself off to the ya dong stand again – he was back to normal.

Earlier, Maiyuu told me about some of the items he would like me to buy for him, if I wanted to show him my love.

‘Some nights I go to bed, and wonder if you have bought me something – just once – to show you care. But when I wake in the morning, it is never there,’ he said.

'You have my ATM card...in theory, you can buy whatever you want,’ I said. 'I have never bought gifts for people on a whim, as I don’t know what people like,’ I added.

‘A food blender like the one Martha Stewart uses on her show,’ he suggested.
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At the ya dong stand, carer R was sitting alone, waiting for me.

I had called in advance to say I was coming. His other customers had gone home for the night.

No one else was around but for the rubbish collectors. As is the Thai custom, we offered them a nip of ya dong to take the edge off their labours.

At my invitation, Carer R talked about his hair. He ties it in a knot on top of his head, like a spouting water fountain.

After 10 minutes, he releases the rubber band. It stays upright on his head, which he likes, because he gets sick of it sweeping from the front of his eyes.

‘I need a haircut. This is the longest it has ever been. Before, I wore it ultra-short,’ he said.

R showed me pictures of himself and his wife in his cellphone, taken about 18 months ago while he was in his past job as a salesman in a Timberlands store. In some pictures, he wore a hat and a scarf.

Even with short hair, he is strikingly handsome, I thought.

Half an hour later, Ball’s Mum emerged, followed by her partner, Lort.

‘I don’t want him drinking too much, as he has to work,’ said Mum, referring to Ball.

‘He was here briefly, but had to go back to work for a meeting,’ said carer R.

Lort, who fancies himself as a man of influence, boasted about his generosity to the common folk in the area.

'If I meet someone who asks me for money, I give him whatever he needs, even if I end up without cash for a meal or transport home,’ he said.

Mum, who was listening, agreed.

‘He likes to visit his problems upon others,’ she said, unimpressed. ‘When Lort gets home he’ll ask me for the money which he just gave someone else.’

Mum and Lort finished their ya dong and went off to get something to eat. Half an hour later, Master Ball himself arrived.

‘They asked staff  to attend a meeting - and after that ended, made us clean the windows!’ said Ball, looking disgusted.

He has started working for a coffee shop owned by a supermarket chain.

Ball sat next to me. I touched him. He immediately reached out for my hand, and held it briefly in his.

We talked about Ball’s flaky scalp, and a sinus problem which affects his breathing.

Ball, who suspects both conditions are caused by an allergy, sounds like a child with a chronically blocked nose. He coughs constantly.

'At work, the boss asks me to wear a facemask when I serve customers, as he worries that I have that new strain of flu!’ he said.

The final conversation of the evening concerned Ball’s dress.

He was wearing boxers, which he borrowed from his brother.

‘Would you like some more of your own?’ I offered.

I asked what type he likes. White briefs, he said, as long as they are ‘manly’ – they can't rise too high on the waist.

Carer R needed bed, so we left. Ball took me across the vacant lot towards home.

He found it hard to walk straight, as he had put in an hour's solid drinking. The path is treacherous, littered with broken stones and stray dogs.

Ball stopped for a wee, and waited for me to do up his pants.

We passed a flat-bed truck in the middle of the lot. Ball flipped down the back so we could sit on it.

‘Why don’t you like women?’ he asked. ‘That kid you keep at home – is he a good person?’

‘I used to like women, but changed my mind. My boyfriend is not a kid – he’s 31,’ I said.

Ball does not believe me when I tell him that Maiyuu and I share little intimacy with each other.

He moved on to the subject of money.

‘I am not like other Thais. Have I ever asked you to support me financially?’ Ball asked.

I talk in English occasionally, when I want to emphasise something. ‘Good boy!’

He mimics me.

‘Good boy!’

We said goodbye. I turned to watch my friend -  still in his work uniform of serious white shirt and black slacks - stagger home across the vacant section.

If I truly love my boyfriend, I might have to stop myself showing so much interest in my new friend. I don’t want any of us to get hurt.