Let's spread those tired wings

I chose to keep my money, rather than give any to my young friend Ball for Chinese New Year.

I saw him and carer R two nights ago.

Ball gets small ang pao (cash in an envelope) gifts from his mother’s side of the family, he told me.

He might have stood a chance of getting a small Chinese New Year cash gift from me, too, until I heard the fateful words: ‘I don’t want you to worry so much about me.’

He's worried about what people will think again. How tiresome!

Both carer R and I worry about Ball, though sometimes I am not sure why. Perhaps it's because he won't take control of his life.

Mum’s Ball had been away since the night before, playing cards with relatives. She had not called in all that time, even though we were now heading into day three since she left.

Ball turned up with B20 in his pocket; possibly that’s all his mother gave him to subsist on while she was away.

She gave another B20 to Ball’s girlfriend, Jay, who works at a supermarket.

She finished work at 11pm, but no one was around to pick her up.

Ball’s younger brother, who normally performs that duty, had gone away, and taken his motorbike with him.

Come 11pm, Ball was worried about how she would get home. The two had argued the night before...Jay, it seems, has a fancy man who calls her.

He challenged her about it, they argued.

Ball swatted her head, and banished her to the upstairs bedroom while he slept the night in his brother’s room.

On this night, however, he couldn’t help but worry about her fate, stuck on a dark road outside an empty supermarket.

He didn’t have her contact number, and we couldn’t reach his mother, who had switched off her phone.

It was too late to take a motorcycle taxi, as they had finished work for the night.

He could take a taxi – carer R and I offered him the fare – but he didn’t want to waste the money.

So, he sat, waited and worried. Every 10mins, he walked back home to see if she had arrived.

Eventually, she did; an hour after she finished work, a colleague dropped her off. Ball suspects it was the same guy who has been calling her.

What a mess. I had expected more from the mother; at the very least, she could keep her phone switched on, in case her children need to call. They did not have a contact number for the place where she was staying.

Carer R suggested I buy Ball something to eat at the 7-11. While Ball was visiting home, I wandered down there and bought him some noodles.

‘We’ve already had ours,’ carer R told Ball in my absence - a white lie. 'We ate hours while waiting for you.'

Actually, we hadn’t eaten a thing. But we thought his needs were more important, as his mother had left little at home for him or his girlfriend to fill their tummies before bed.

‘Look, the farang has bought you noodles. Please eat,’ he said upon my return.

Even then, Ball was reluctant; he merely picked at the dish, until it grew soggy and cold.

‘May I suggest that before the girlfriend leaves for the day, you ask her what arrangements she will make for getting home?’ I asked Ball.

Ball likes to pretend he is sick of his girlfriend, who lives with his family.

In fact, as is plain to me and carer R, he worries about her, and might even still love the girl...he just won’t admit it.

Tomorrow, carer R has invited Ball, me, his own girlfriend and a few friends to make merit at a temple in the provinces.

We are supposed to set off at 9am, travelling by train.

I am not going, as I would rather spend that time in the company of my boyfriend. I don’t have enough in common with my ya dong friends to want to spend a whole day away from home.

Before work last night, I dropped into a food place close to the office to order a meal, as I do every night before my shift starts.

A group of four young guys, drinking at a table at the eatery, greeted me. One offered me a sip from his whisky glass.

I had forgotten how good whisky tastes. Ya dong has been taking up all my attention.

Jokingly, he also offered to sell his body to me for B500.

We have agreed to meet again tonight. I will turn up about 7pm, when normally I would be thinking about joining carer R’s ya dong stand.

What a traitor I am.

Actually, I am just spreading my wings. Change can be a good thing, and I suspect it might be time I moved on.

PS: Still thinking about it...not sure yet.