Absent friends, Maiyuu the pretend servant, thirst for new adventure

Maiyuu called last night to say he was spending the night with his friend, Golf.

I rarely see Golf at our place these days, as Maiyuu reckons I was grumpy towards her last time she visited.

She asks irritating questions like:

‘Have you eaten yet?’

And: ‘Maiyuu’s ice-cream/salad/whatever: Is it delicious?’

These questions get in the way of my routines, disrupt my train of thought.

You might think that a simple ‘Yes’ and a Thai-style smile by way of reply would not take long.

But you’d be wrong. For no sooner have I answered one question, than I am presented with another.

After getting sick of being polite, I started to ignore her.

She would ask a question, and I would pretend I hadn’t heard. Or, I’d talk to Maiyuu over the top of her, as if she wasn’t there.

Maiyuu picks up these signals. He knew I was losing my patience with his friend. Worried I would get angry with him if he kept bringing her home, he stopped inviting her.

Now, if he wants to see his friend Golf, he goes outdoors to meet her instead, and leaves this crotchety old man alone at home - which is nothing less than he deserves.

-
I snapped at Maiyuu the other day for giving me odd, quizzical looks.

When he detects I am in a bad mood, he give me worried stares as if he thinks I might blow up at any minute.

To be fair to him, I wasn’t feeling my best. I had hurt my back, and was finding it hard to move about, to do even the simplest things. The constant bolts of pain through my head were testing my patience.

‘What are you staring at?’ I snapped at him.

I apologised later, but Maiyuu was still hurt.

‘Jao nai, I will try to avoid making eye contact with you in future, sir,’ he said sarcastically, using the word in Thai for ‘boss’.

Some days, he would rub it in further, referring to me as a prince, and himself as a slave.

One morning, he pretended to be a Thai servant, attending to his lord.

Maiyuu entered my bedroom on his knees. He shuffled towards my desk, with his head pointing towards the floor.

With both hands, he held above his head a dish of something he had just made - his master’s supper, if you like.

‘I can’t look at you in the eyes, as you’re too important,’ he was trying to say.

Thankfully, Maiyuu has now grown sick of that joke, and life has returned to normal.

I still get the odd quizzical look, as if he is worried I will lose my temper again, but for the most part we are back to treating each other with relative indifference, which is the way it should be - better than fear and loathing, anyway.

-
‘I’ll be out in a moment,’ said Ball.

I had dropped in to see him at his home in the slums, about two hours before I was due to leave for work.

An hour earlier, I had called carer R and Ball, suggesting we meet for a quick drink before I went to the office.

My day at work would be a long one, and I suspected I would not get the chance to meet them otherwise.

I left the slum area and chatted to carer R as he opened his stall nearby.

By the time I left for work an hour later, Ball had still not arrived.

That night, I was to finish work earlier than expected, and did in fact make it back to carer R’s stall before it closed.

We drank for about an hour. This time, Ball was present.

‘Why did you not come out to see us in the afternoon?’ I asked.

‘I didn’t feel up to it...I still felt ill from the night before,’ said Ball.

For me, that’s not good enough. He told me he would follow me out, but apparently had no intention of doing so. He simply went back to bed.

Ball did little else with his life that day but sleep, as far as I can gather.

How self-indulgent and frustrating. No wonder his mother tears her hair out worrying when her son will grow up and take responsibility for his life.

I am getting restless, I notice. With carer R’s pending departure for the provinces, everything is about to change. It might be time to start looking for adventures elsewhere.

Dogs bark, fish flop, Ball gets leg rub, farang contemplates change

Graffiti marks spot where the ya dong stand sat...alleyway leads to Ball's soi

'Put your legs on my knees...I will rub them,’ I told Mr Ball.

He did as he was told.

The soi in which carer R sets up his stand was quiet, but for the sound of dogs barking, and fish flopping about in a bucket across the way.

The stand is in a street where, during the day, traders set up a fresh market, including a fish stall.

By midnight, when I usually arrive, the traders and customers have gone home.

There's just us, the dogs, later-night rubbish collectors, and teenagers passing by on motorbikes.

I asked Ball how his day went.

‘The same as usual...I was at home.’

Next, I asked after his Mum.

‘The same,’ he said.

Mum was no longer angry at him for spurning her efforts to find him a job as a security guard.

Relations with girlfriend Jay were also on a normal footing, meaning he was still arguing with her one moment, making up the next.

I had dropped in to see the Enchanted One after work.

Carer R and he were drinking ya dong alone, as is usual at that time of night. I had called R to say I was coming, so he kept his stall open until I arrived.

I watched Ball’s magnificently expressive face, but tried not to gaze at him too long, in case he felt uncomfortable.

He smiled. He’s used to me by now, after all.

Carer R chatted away in the background as I watched Mr Ball, who was more serious and subdued than the night before.

‘Are you okay? Is anything upsetting you at home?’ I asked.

‘I am fine,’ he insisted, smiling.

I found the burn mark on his right leg, caused by the exhaust pipe of a motorbike he climbed on a few days ago.

It still looks vivid and painful, and shows no sign of going away.

‘All my skin wounds take ages to heal,’ he said.

‘Are you wearing underpants?’ I asked.

I ask him this question every day at the moment, as he knows I don’t like him leaving home with nothing on under his clothes.

‘No...I want him to get some air,’ he said.

He said it matter-of-factly. We talk about most topics these days without the need to make a joke out of anything, or feel embarrassed.

That’s not because we are drawing closer...we probably aren’t. We just can’t see the point in being too serious.

I care for Ball. He likes it. At the end of the night, we go home, in separate directions.

We carry on like this until some emotional drama erupts in his home life. That’s when I can be useful again, as I listen while he unloads.

Carer R is threatening to leave Bangkok next month. His stall will stay, but he will have left for the provinces, to care for his father-in-law.

The stall will close earlier, meaning I will no longer be able to visit Mr Ball there after I finish work.

I would rather not visit him at home at that hour, as it is late.

His girlfriend Jay usually waits up for him to get home from the ya dong stand, so they can go to bed together.

That’s time they are entitled to enjoy together as a couple. Compared to Jay, his girlfriend, I am a mere hanger-on.

I may be good at the caring thing, but I doubt I can compare with her.

So, where are we heading?

Ball’s Mum and I get along well. In fact, I am enjoying my contact with ‘adults’ in his family, such as Mum, her friends, and even her partner Lort.

Still, the changes beckoning at the ya dong stand threaten to upset our relationship. I feel as if my time is running out.

During the day, Ball is often asleep, or I am busy.

I finish work late. If I can’t see him at the ya dong stand after work, when will we meet...only on my days off?

Maiyuu saves a bundle, farang gets the push

Some good news from boyfriend Maiyuu. He has been saving B1,000 a month for his dental needs. He says he wants to replace his teeth with false ones, but as the procedure is expensive, he needs to save a bundle of money first.

‘I keep the money in my room, but I am not showing you,’ he said.

I knew he was saving, but I didn’t know he had saved so much. According to Maiyuu, the total has reached more than B10,000, as he has been saving more than a year now.

Good on him! As reader Nanette argued in a response to yesterday’s post, homemaker Maiyuu is entitled to put aside some money for his own needs.

In fact, now that I know he has some kind of financial cushion behind him, I feel much better about our future.

I am the financial provider. If I was to fall under a bus tomorrow, he would still cope, at least for as long as it took him to find some work.

-
I dropped in to see my little one with the not-so-shining future – Mr Ball.

I had just finished work, but did not get to the ya dong stand in time. As I arrived on foot, Carer R had just packed up his shop.

He and Mr Ball had kept each other company for most of the night.

The pair of them had just left the shop, and were about to thread their way through dark alleyways back to his place about 2 minutes' walk away.

Mr Ball was wheeling his baby sister in a pram, and gave me a friendly greeting.

'Hi, Mr M!'

Ball was a little unsteady on his feet, but did not look too worse for wear.

I asked Carer R how his night went; he suggested I try again tomorrow.

‘Go home and get some rest,’ R suggested.

I knew what that meant: R was going back to Ball’s place to try his hand at gambling, and did not want me around to watch.

I had called Ball’s mother earlier in the evening. She was hard at work, crouched over some board game.

Occasionally carer R likes to throw hit hat in the ring too, but for my own sake discourages me from being present.

Such activity is illegal in Thailand, even in the privacy of Thais’ own homes.

When Mum gets down to it, she locks the front door, or at least shuts the bedroom door, to make sure no one from the alleyway outside can see what she and her friends are doing.

If I was present in the room when the police turned up, I would be out of a job. Carer R knows this, so for my own protection tells me to go home instead.

I wanted to talk to Ball, rub his back for him, or at least look at him for a moment, but I had missed my chance.

He looked care-free and happy, as he usually does when he's had a few.

But I know that by the time he wakes, all his old worries will be back, furrowing his teenage brow.

Never mind. I will try again today.

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.

Ball re-enters the workforce

Ball – former supermarket egg-seller, and coffee shop worker - is about to re-enter the full-time workforce, this time as a security guard.

His mother knows a cleaner at my condo, who knows someone at a serviced apartment opposite. She has recommended Ball for a job.

She used her pull to get him work there as a guard. At 7am today, he was to present himself for an interview - a mere formality thanks to the intervention of his mother’s friend.

The job is already his, though that is as far as the good news goes.

‘At the new place, I will work a 12-hour day, starting at 7am. They deduct the cost of my uniform from my wages. If I can’t make it on a particular day, they deduct a penalty fee,’ Ball said.

How much will he get for his 12-hour day? The measly sum of B300.

He will work for a company which hires security guards, and contracts its services to condos and serviced apartments.

Ball worked at my own condo complex as a security guard, several years ago when he first left school.

‘I swear I never fell asleep at my post. But the work was monotonous. Most of the guards are old men...they employ few people my age, so I met few friends,' he recalls.

‘The tenants, even some of the staff, look down on us because we are guards. If the tenants don’t like the way we treat them, they complain to the juristic entity which runs the place, just to make trouble.’

Ball recounts a tale about a wealthy tenant who turned up in his Benz one evening in pouring rain. He had just picked up his daughter from university.

‘I was sitting in the guards’ booth, trying to keep out of the rain. But this guy wanted me to take an umbrella to the passenger door of the Benz and escort his daughter to the front door of his condo, so she wouldn’t get wet.

‘He didn’t care that I would have to spend the rest of my shift sitting in wet clothes,’ he said.

My busy day with Ball’s family started in late afternoon, when Ball’s Mum invited me to her place.

She had asked a couple of women friends over, and was shouting them drinks.

‘I want to encourage Ball to drink beer at home, which is better for him than ya dong,’ she said.

I turned up in early evening.

I met Mum’s two guests, including Ning, works at my condo as a cleaner, and is the one who found Ball his new job.

Ball's Mum was playing hostess to say thanks for getting her son work.

Ball himself, however, had headed outdoors for the night.

‘Drinking at home is dull,’ he told me later.

Mum and I went in search of Ball. We found him at a new ya dong stand close to the local 7-11 store.

Idle Lort, the partner to Ball’s mother, now drinks here rather than at carer R’s ya dong stand nearby, as he owes carer R money, so rarely dares show his face.

We spent 15min at the place close to the 7-11, but decided it was too noisy. We were also missing carer R, so decided to meet at his shop instead.

I was to spend the rest of the night there, punctuated by one brief trip home to see the boyfriend, to make sure he wasn’t getting lonely.

Maiyuu spent the night in the company of the TV, as usual. He seemed happy enough. I spent 15min there, and headed back out again.

An hour later, Ball’s Mum re-joined us at carer R’s stand.

She sounded bitter about the security company which has hired Ball. It made me wonder why she wanted her son to work in such an awful job.

‘We need the money. He can no longer just sit around at home,’ she said.

Lort is a taxi driver, but rarely bothers to ply the streets looking for work.

‘In the morning, there’s too much traffic, and not enough passengers to go around,’ she said.

‘Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds like an excuse. Lort simply isn’t interested in working,’ I said.

I regularly criticise Lort when I talk to Ball’s Mum. She seldom replies to my barbs, but I know carer R, at least, enjoys my outspoken moments.

My intervention fails to change anything at home, of course, but I want Ball’s mother to know what this farang thinks.

Ball, meanwhile, was working himself into a small state of anxiety.

His girlfriend, Jay, had finished work at a local supermarket but when he went to pick her up on his motorbike, she refused to accompany him home.

He left his bike by the ya dong stand. Every half an hour, he would head off to find her.

Jay, however, wanted to stay out with her friends.

This upset the Enchanted One, who worries she has found a new man but just not told him yet.

He made three trips to get her before she would agree to come home. ‘Her friends laughed at me when I demanded she get on the bike,’ Ball told me bitterly.

By the time he headed off a third time, he was so worked up he wanted to hit her. I spoke reassuring words in his ear, rubbed his face and his back to cool him down.

On her return, Jay joined us at the ya dong stand, and the two spoke in a huddle for 20min.

After quizzing her about what happened with her friends, Ball forgave his girlfriend, which was a relief.

‘Do you have any books on English conversation which you can lend me?’ she asked me politely.

‘I do,’ I said.

‘Why do you want them?’ Ball asked.

‘Some of my customers are farang...I want to know how to reply to their questions,’ she said.

Ball looked at me proudly. ‘My girlfriend was good at school...she’s smart,’ he said.

I was delighted to see that Jay was back in Ball’s good books. The pair argue often, but fall back into their old habits as a couple just as quickly.

Ball could do with studying a little English himself, as the place where he will work is stuffed with foreigners.

I offered to buy him lunch, and take it to him at the condo.

‘I know the job sounds a bore, but just think – this could be the first day of a new adventure,’ I told him.