The family where nobody talks

‘Ball’s still asleep,’ said Mum. You can meet him this afternoon,’ she suggested.

That was Ball’s Mum as we chatted on the phone a few moments ago.

I called to see if he had risen in time for work. Unfortunately not; he was supposed to get up at 8am, and when I called his mother it was already 11am.

Ball and I met at carer R’s stand last night. Carer R is in the provinces, so his mother-in-law was serving, along with a couple of 10-year-old lads, who live in the same apartment.

After the stall packed up about 10pm, we repaired to Ball’s place with a half-bottle of ya dong.

At Ball’s place, I met his Mum, who was playing cards with friends in a small, concealed space off the living room.

‘Have you won anything yet?’ I asked Mum.

‘All I can do tonight is lose,’ she said.

About 10.30, Ball took me on his motorbike to the local supermarket, to pick up his girlfriend, Jay, who was finishing her shift.

We hung about in the supermarket watching young ones pack up the place for the night.

‘I want to end our relationship, but can’t find the words,’ he said, referring to Jay.

Ball noticed a pretty girl in an ice-cream shop nearby. I offered to fetch her phone number on Ball’s behalf.

‘Are you sure she’ll be interested? What if she says no?’ he asked.

‘I am the one who gets embarrassed in that case; you don’t have to worry,’ I told him.

I was just about to head into the shop and ask the girl for her number when Jay turned up, her shift over for the day.

We squeezed on the bike: Jay in front, steering, Ball behind her, and me as the third passenger perched on the rear.

The two in front chatted away animatedly. I could tell they were having fun.

‘We made love on the first day we met,’ Ball had told me as we waited at the supermarket.

‘I want to quit with her, but feel sorry for her because of what I did. If I force her to leave our home, she will have nowhere to go.

‘I don’t like the idea that she may go to bed with some other guy just to make money,’ he said.

‘Is that jealousy, or just pity?’ I asked.

As I listened to them chatting on the bike, I realised Ball and Jay are still close. How could they not be, when they have shared each other's lives for past four months?

While Ball likes to complain that he is sick of Jay and wants to end the relationship, I am sure that if they put in the effort, they could make it work.

Back at home, however, Ball's moods changed. He did not want to talk to Jay.

He sent me upstairs with our bottle of ya dong and two glasses. We sat in his bedroom, while Jay remained downstairs with Ball’s younger brother, their Mum, and a few other visitors who I did not know.

Outside, half a dozen Thais who live opposite in the narrow slum soi were drinking.

They were squeezed into the front of their place. The sound of them partying travelled into Ball’s room through holes in the walls and roof.

We lay on a greasy bedspread which felt as if it had not been cleaned in months. Such is the general state of disrepair, the room had no fixed light; Ball had rigged up a torch, which plugged into a wall socket.

In one corner of the room lay a small bucket containing water mixed with blood. What the hell was that?

Ball was feeling the effects of his ya dong.

‘Mum's partner Lort says you are gay...but I don’t care. I want us to be brothers. Can we be friends??’ he slurred.

‘The last time you were here, Lort asked you to buy a ya dong stand, and in return he would let me be your lover.

‘I have the money to buy a bottle myself. I don’t need to sell myself for it,’ he said, looking disgusted.

‘He was wrong to do that...I am sorry it ever happened,’ I said.

Ball asked me to wait while he went back downstairs.

Moments later he was back, followed shortly by girlfriend Jay, who gathered up her clothes, and stormed out.

While he was downstairs, Ball had told his girlfriend brusquely to go.

I tried to stop her leaving the bedroom, as it was past midnight, and she had nowhere else to sleep.

'Please stay and talk,' I said.

Ball grabbed me, holding me back.

Shortly after, Ball and I headed downstairs looking for her. The sitting room was empty.

We also searched for her outside his place; no luck.

We returned to his place, when we found Jay had not left at all, but had taken shelter in Mum's bedroom downstairs. She was lying next to Ball’s younger brother, Beer.

‘I don’t mind the fact that you and Ball are alone in Ball’s bedroom upstairs,’ she told me. ‘I am not jealous. It’s the way he is acting and speaking to me. It’s not right,’ she said.

Again, I urged Jay and Ball to talk.

‘No one in this family is willing to talk openly. Yet it’s the only way you can solve problems,’ I said.

‘When you are forced to meet at meal times, you are surly with each other because you won't talk about the things troubling you.'

Jay listened, but said nothing.

What I said next probably surprised her.

‘Ball thinks you have no future together, but I do. I have seen the way you get along. I am sure you can make this work,’ I said.

Ball, however, had decided his girlfriend should go. As we sat down for a quick meal, he swore at her and again told her to leave.

I took Ball back upstairs again, to give the poor girl some breathing space.

As we lay down on his greasy bedspread, Ball asked me to stay next to him for the night.

Ball sleeps in his casual clothes; I doubt he has any pyjamas. This is probably not a pyjamas kind of home.

I stroked my young friend’s head until he slept.

I had no intention of staying over. The state of the place, including the blood in the bucket, horrified me.

As soon as I was sure he had fallen asleep, I headed back downstairs, said goodbye to Jay, and left.