Ball re-enters the workforce...oops, I take that back

I spoke too soon.

Mr Ball remains a free man (unemployed), after he rejected his mother’s efforts to find him work as a security guard.

He decided he didn’t like the idea of returning to work as a guard, so yesterday, when he was supposed to turn up for his job interview, slept in instead.

He was supposed to present himself at a serviced apartment complex, close to my condo, at 7am.

Ning, a friend of his Mum’s, had recommended him.

The job was Ball’s for the taking, if he wanted it. All he had to do was turn up. His future boss would show him around, and give him guard’s uniforms to try on for size.

I called his Mum about 10am to ask how it went.

‘He didn’t go. He doesn’t want the job. I am fed up,’ said poor Mum, who had ticked off her son earlier that morning when his intentions became clear.

I dropped in to her place in time to see Ball emerging from the shower. He and his girlfriend Jay were going out.

The girlfriend of Jay’s elder brother has just given birth. Ball and Jay were going to visit her. After that, they were to take a meal together, and watch a movie.

Ball dressed up for the occasion: his younger brother’s jeans, a formal short-sleeved shirt, and smart white shoes.

I gave him B120 so he could take a taxi, rather than having to sit on the bus. That was silly, as his Mum had given him spending money just moments before.

Still, I didn’t mind. Ball and Jay are entitled to enjoy a day out together occasionally, even if his timing could have been better.

The next time I saw him was about 12 hours later, when he and Jay turned up at the ya dong stand after their day in town.

Ball was nervous, as his mother’s harsh words that morning were still ringing in his head.

I made supportive noises. ‘I don’t think you would have lasted in that job anyway, as the hours were too long, and the pay meagre,’ I said.

He agreed. ‘Today at the department store, I found an eatery where I might apply for work,’ he said.

‘If you keep up the job search efforts, and show Mum you are interested in pulling your weight, she can’t complain,’ I said.

‘Has your Mum cooked anything for you at home?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know. Would you like to call her to ask?’ said Ball.

I didn’t want him and his girlfriend going to bed on an empty stomach, but he was too scared to ask his Mum himself whether there was any food at home for them to eat.

He was also reluctant to go home himself, in case his Mum scolded him again.

I walked to his place, and inspected the food his mother had made that day. It was running low.

‘I will buy you some more,’ I told him as a re-emerged at the ya dong stand.

That little errand was not to be. As I was walking down to the food stalls at the end of the street, I ran into Ball’s Mum, and her partner Lort, who had come out for a walk. I didn't see them at Ball's place moments before.

A third person made up the party: Ning, the woman who had recommended Ball for work at the serviced apartments.

They were on their way to see a woman friend, Noi, who hours before had lost her son to a brain disease.

As it happens, I had met Noi at Mum’s place the night before, when her son was still alive.

Her 21-year-old son, who has been in hospital for years, died in the early hours. Lort and Mum asked me to accompany them, so we took a five-minute walk to Noi’s place.

Noi was sitting on the floor when we arrived. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had not slept or eaten since she learned the news.

Her relatives were on their way to Bangkok for the funeral.

Lort went out to get food and replenish her bottle of ya dong. We sat and drank. Ning called a woman friend as a prank, and asked me to talk to her.

‘Tell her we are boyfriend and girlfriend,’ she said.

I did as instructed. My audience enjoyed watching the farang perform. It lightened the mood, and took Noi’s mind off her loss.

'Farang Mali is Ball's surrogate mother,' Mum told Noi later.

She was explaining my relationship with Ball, as Noi had seen us together often.

Mum was joking, of course, but I suppose it really does look like that, as I enjoy caring for Ball.

I sat on the floor squeezed next to Ning, who held my hand and rubbed my arm gently.

With my free arm, I held Noi's hand, as she cried and talked about her son.

Ning likes me, and wants me to consider going out with her.

‘Try varying your sexual preferences a bit,’ she said as a joke.

Ning is taller than the average Thai, with beautiful skin. She works for a property company, which has an office in the carpark building of my condo.

Finally, we left. We dropped in to see Ball and carer R at the ya dong stand.

Carer R had called me repeatedly on the phone.

I had disappeared while on my errand to get food for Mr Ball, leaving them alone to drink their ya dong.

Carer R doesn’t like my unexplained disappearances, and wanted to know how I had ended up in the home of someone I barely knew.

‘Ball’s Mum invited me. Give me five minutes, and we’ll be back,’ I had told him.

As soon as we turned up at the ya dong stand, Ball - evidently wanting to avoid his Mum, who had ticked him off that morning - took off for home.

I dropped in to Mum’s place briefly before heading home myself.

I spoke to Ball’s younger brother, Beer, about the prospect of him doing piecemeal work for my employer. I had discussed this plan with him previously, but nothing had come of it.

Mr B is still interested. I will let the head of the section know, and escort Mr B there on his first day of work.

Ball was upstairs with his girlfriend for most of my visit.

He re-appeared briefly as I was walking out the door, at the tail end of what was an eventful day.

His baby sister Fresh was crying.

He took her from Mr B’s arms and gave her a hug.

I felt my usual rush of sorrow for Mr Ball, who looks too young and fragile for the stress and heartache which his chosen life visits upon him.

‘Good night,’ I said.

Ball smiled.

I wanted to say more, but it can always wait for another day.