25 Hours in a day

I am spending some time away from Ball and his family...well, minimising it, anyway.

The other day I found a woman selling black pants, such as those worn by service workers. She was selling them in a flea market sitting between my place and Ball’s own.

The trousers were cheap – just 100 baht. ‘I buy them direct from the woman who makes them, and can take in the leg if it is too long,’ she said.

I borrowed one pair from the stallholder and took them to Ball's place. ‘Try these on, would you,’ I said. 'They are your size. If they fit, I'll buy them for you.'

Ball declined, saying he had more than enough. He tossed them to one side.

Contrary to what Ball says, he doesn’t have plenty. The pair he wore to work on his first – and last – day selling newspapers at a department store on Wednesday were too small. That leaves just one other pair.

I took them back to the stallholder. ‘He doesn’t want them – he’d rather just have alcohol,’ I told her, disgusted.

I dropped in the next day to find Ball and his girlfriend helping Mum make khanom jeen (fish balls and noodles).

The night before, Mum had been out playing HiLo. She must have done well, for that morning she went into the market and bought up bulk food supplies.

Mum felt inspired to make khanom jeen, after I bought two servings of the dish the other day from a man selling it from a cart.

Her son Ball loves the dish, so she decided to make it herself.

This was to be one of those big family meals. It was a public holiday, so everyone would be at home.

I decided not to stay, however, as the teen lovebirds were absorbed in separating fish meat from bones. I didn't want to distract them.

Late yesterday, Mum called to say that they had made a huge pot of the stuff, and asked me over to help finish it.

‘Ball has showered, and eaten three helpings already!’ she said.

That’s code for: My son is ready for the night ahead. Why don’t you come over, join us at our gathering – and buy him something to drink?’

Once I would have been delighted to hear such family-oriented news, and join one of Mum's big family meals.

But I was annoyed at Ball for spurning my attempts to help. Even if buying booze fills a need, it is not as useful as buying clothes for work.

So I did a shameful Thai thing. I said I’d be there, knowing full well I wouldn’t, and failed to turn up.

An hour later, I was at work when Mum called again. I turned off the phone without answering, as I was busy.

That call was to say: He’s pacing about restlessly and needs his daily fix – are you still coming?

Five hours later, I cut through the slum on my way home, and came across Mum playing a board game with neighbours in an alleyway for small amounts of cash.

She looked embarrassed, like she had done something to offend me. ‘He’s now had a beer,’ she said, meaning he was able to find something to pacify his restless urges.

I did not stop to talk to Ball as I passed his home, but kept walking. As I passed, I peered in the door.

He was sitting on the floor talking to his sister. The ever-present girlfriend was dozing on the couch.

I can understand how Ball feels. He regards himself as the head of the household, and one day wants to look after his mother and girlfriend. He can hardly regard himself as a grown-up when someone from outside the family keeps buying him sensible items such as clothing.

My job is to buy the alcohol, just like any of his young friends would do if they drop in to his place fo a visit.

The last time we drank together, a few days ago, Ball sang along to music by Thai indie band 25Hours.

The band’s lead singer, Laem Somporn Rungphanit (แหลม สมพล รุ่งพาณิชย์ - pictured above), has a startlingly clear, high voice, which sounds almost like a woman’s. Ball – who is no slouch as a karaoke singer – can match him note for note.

25Hours recently put out their first album. Try the fabulous Keun Ngao, here.