Poor hearing, seaside tempter, naughty aircon guy

My mind is playing tricks. When I am talking to Ball and his family on the phone, sometimes I think I have heard something, when apparently I haven’t.

‘It’s late. Don’t come around tonight. You can see me on a day off,’ said Ball told me when we spoke on the phone.

His day off? That’s three days away. Actually, we are seldom able to meet at the tail end of the week, as we are both busy. But I didn’t like the casual way he said it, like he was shrugging me off.

I called him back five minutes later. ‘Why did you say you didn’t want any contact until the end of the week?’I asked. I made a joke of it, but I wanted to know.

‘I didn’t say anything about that...you misheard,’ he said.

This happens a bit. Maiyuu might tell me something, and I am sure he meant XYZ. But when I bring it up later, he claims never to have said it.

Maybe it’s all a dream, and I don’t really know any of these people. Or, more likely, I will wake up 30 years from now in a rocking chair, and fail to remember anything that has happened in my life previously.

My grandmother went out like that...unaware of her surroundings, or the identity even of her own children. Is it a peaceful way to go? Maybe the memories start falling off one by one, like flowers off a tree in autumn. I am in no hurry to find out.

-
I have a similar problem understanding Ball’s mother. I ask a direct question, as is my farang way, but seldom get a direct answer.

Instead, I get a long, disjointed monologue. My job is to sift the various bits of information, attempt to make sense of the whole thing, and come up with a cogent response by the time she has finished.

‘Seaside...Ball wants to go...his family on that side is keen to invite him...everyone will go, including my soldier son...you know, with the trouble on the streets, it is hard for a soldier to get leave...we have a van...everything included, a bit more than 2000 baht...hard to find a van we could hire...’

This was Mum's monologue on the phone, after Ball asked me if I intended to accompany his family on a visit to the seaside next week.

I am working on the day they intend to travel, so the answer is probably no.
However, I will offer to put some money towards the trip.

The van will cost B2000 to hire for the two-three hour journey to Chon Buri, where the family will spend the day at the beach. Earlier, they considered spending the night, but decided against when they realised how much it would cost.

‘How much would you like me to pay?’ I asked Ball’s mother.

‘Up to you,’ she said, in what sounded like an icy tone. But I may have imagined it, like so many other things these days.

I will probably give B700. That’s money I could have spent on something more lasting than a day-trip to the seaside, but never mind. If it helps get them out of their cramped slum home and into the fresh air and sun for a day, then why not.

PS: Four young men have turned up to clean our air conditioning units. One, who knows he is good looking, gave me The Look, to see if I would reciprocate. I am sure he is used to getting admiring glances, and wants to know if I find him as handsome as everyone else.

Oh, alright, if you must. When the boyfriend is not watching, I shall return The Look, so the air con guy knows that he has an admirer in me, too.