Unwelcome house guest

Farang C has bought Maiyuu a gift to say sorry for the drama he has caused over the last few weeks.

My farang friend is going out with a Thai girl whose former boyfriend, a local ruffian called Ton, wants her back - or it at least intent on making her life as much of a misery as possible.

Ton and farang C have yet to meet, and I am only tenuously connected to this tug-of-love drama.

Ton calls asking me to pass messages to his former girlfriend.

When she refuses to talk to him, he sends me text messages threatening to do me or Maiyuu harm.

I met Ton a few weeks ago at my condo complex. Farang C lives at the same condo as me, but in a different building.

He demanded that I show him inside my place, as he suspected I was hiding his girlfriend on farang C's behalf.

'We lead a gay lifestyle...you won't find any women here,' I told him.

He wasn't convinced. 'Why do you live with a gay, anyway?' he asked sulkily, scratching his groin as we made our way up in the lift.

Reluctantly, I showed him inside.

Maiyuu was unhappy to see Ton at the door. I had no chance to warn Maiyuu that I was 'inviting' in Ton for a quick look around.

Ton entered without bothering to introduce himself.

Maiyuu knew Ton as the pest who had been trying to track down his former girlfriend, but the two had never met.

'I know you are attracted to him...what's going on?' Maiyuu asked me, as Ton started opening doors and looking in hideaway places.

'He insisted I bring him here,' I explained.

As Ton let himself into our bedrooms, even searched in wardrobes, plain-spoken Maiyuu, who is scared of no one, sniped at our unwelcome guest.

'Just who do you think you are, barging into someone else's place?' he asked.

'Take your problems somewhere else!'

Ton looked embarrassed, and mumbled an apology, but didn't let that deter him.

Maiyuu followed him around as he went from room to room.

When Ton yanked opened a shoe cupboard (surprise!), he said caustically:

'You really think you'll find anyone big enough to fit in there?'

Five minutes later, Ton left, satisfied that I wasn't giving shelter to his girlfriend in the shoe cupboard or anywhere else.

I spent the next half hour apologising to Maiyuu for the intrusion, and insisting I really didn't find Ton that attractive.

'I let him in under duress,' I said limply.

Farang C is sorry for the upset he has caused.

The other day, he bought Maiyuu a bottle of gin by way of making amends.

I don't know why we settled on this particular tipple, as Maiyuu hardly ever drinks it.

The cop who knows too much

'Just admit it...you have a young guy on the side,’ said the policeman.

I was sitting in the police station after filing a complaint about a local pest.

I told him that I have a boyfriend at home, but also spend some of my time with a family in the slums.

'I like the idea of having my own son,’ I said, referring to Mr Ball.

‘What you mean is, you have a love interest over there. You’re unfaithful, a Romeo, a flirt. You are lying to yourself,’ said the policeman. 'God tells us not to tell lie, but 40% of what we say is lies anyway,' he said.

The officer had a tidy, compact frame. Wearing glasses, aged about 30, and with clean-cut, Chinese features, he spoke with a powerful voice. He also appeared to know the ways of the world, at least as they appear to Thais.

‘You have been here 10 years, and you know the way Thai society works,' he told me.

'If you are seeing someone on the side, you will have to let your partner in on the secret,’ he said.

‘He knows,’ I said.

-

I visited the station to complain about a ruffian called Ton, who earlier in the day had sent me a dozen text messages threatening me harm.

I know Ton through farang C, who lives in the same condo complex as me. Farang C goes out with Ton’s old girlfriend, which annoys him.

Farang C wants to give his girlfriend a new start in life after Ton – a former jailbird and drugs dealer - preyed on her for years.

However, Ton and his former girlfriend have a daughter together, which means their lives will probably always be intertwined, no matter what farang C wants.

One day recently, Ton turned up at our condo, wanting his girlfriend back. I talked to him on behalf of farang C, who does not speak Thai.

The girlfriend agreed to go with Ton, but left him again soon after, and has not been back to him since. She left their daughter with Ton.

Ton takes advantage of my tenuous connection to this sordid saga by calling frequently, asking me to pass on messages to his former girlfriend via farang C.

When the girlfriend, who has avoided him for weeks, fails to call, he gets frustrated, and sends me nasty text messages.

So that was how I turned up at the police station the other day. He had upped his threats to a new, worrying level.

'It's raining. Be careful you don't crack your head on the slippery road,' he said in one message.

'On the inside, there's not much to eat, so eat well today, my friend,' he added. 'They also give it to you up the backside.'

Then, in the most menacing message: 'It's started. It won't be me. I have asked a friend to deal with you instead. Ha, ha, ha!'

The officer who listened to my complaint took down no notes. And here I was, thinking that I would have to fill out lengthy forms before getting any action.

I showed him the text messages.

He made no comment, but asked me to call Ton.

I had not responded to his text messages, and long ago stopped taking Ton's calls.

Seeing my number flash on his telephone must have surprised Ton - though he did not get me on the line, but the cop.

‘Ton...what’s this about you threatening the farang?’ he asked, without bothering to introduce himself.

Ton must have known he was talking to the police.

'Where are you?' the officer asked.

Ton told him.

The officer asked him a dozen or so questions, still without bothering to say who he was.

‘Farang C and the farang sitting in front of me are different people...do you understand that?’ he asked.

'They are not conspiring together to stop you contacting the girlfriend. The farang in front of me just helps with language,' he said.

The officer had grasped quickly who was involved in the drama, what had happened, and where we stood in relation to each other.

This was not my first unpleasant encounter with Ton, who has turned up at the condo on several occasions, likes to lose his temper, and make threats.

The last time he came, I called the police.

Two officers from the station turned up on a motorbike, and spoke to Ton for an hour. They asked to see his ID card.

He refused, claiming he had lost it. No one took down his name, or asked for his address.

I told him about the condo incident, thinking he might look up the station records. 'The beat officers who visited the condo might have filed a report,' I suggested. But the bespectacled policeman who took my complaint was not interested.

‘Have you ever thought of sending someone around to Ton's place to give him a warning?’I asked hopefully.

‘Home visits won’t work, as he could pull out a weapon. It’s not like in the West, where cameras are going everywhere, recording everything,' he said.

‘We settle things the Thai way,’ he said, urging me to show some understanding for Ton.

‘He’s just out of jail, and has no job, no friends. He has turned to his girlfriend for support, but she has started a new life.

'He is also looking after their daughter, but the girlfriend rarely calls him,’ he said.

At first, the policeman had assumed Ton was a former fling of mine.

'Is he good looking?’ he asked.

‘He is, in a way,’ I said.

When Ton talks to me, he rubs his groin constantly. Maybe his boxers are scratchy.

The officer spoke to Ton pleasantly, though in a booming voice. They were on the phone 10 minutes.

It was like a ordinary conversation, the type you might have with the local plumber.

Soon after his chat with the local constabulary ended, Ton called me to apologise.

I thanked him, and hung up.

Bike gang swoops as security guards sleep

Maiyuu woke up this morning to find his bike has been stolen.

He left it parked outside the front of our condo building last night. He put a chain around one wheel.

The security guard says a woman and two men followed him into the condo compound shortly after he returned about 9pm.

Maiyuu suspects they are a gang which steals bikes. The three concocted a story which they gave the security guard.

‘I have come to pick up my uncle’s ATM card, so I can withdraw some money for him,’ one guy told the security guard, explaining why the guard should let him into the compound.

‘He’s in building number 2,’ he said. That’s where we live.

A typical Thai bullshit story. Doting nephew visits mysterious uncle who is incapable of making a simple visit to the ATM himself.... what are ya mate, lame?

Maiyuu suspects he is the one who cut the chain. A woman aged in her 30s accompanied him. A third guy appears to have done little except wait outside by his motorbike.

Five minutes later, the woman sailed out the condo on the back of my boyfriend’s bike.

‘Oh, the owner let me ride it,’ she told the security guard.

At least that lie was simpler than the family ties nonsense spun by her partner in crime.

The guard says he was suspicious, but at the time did not have time to respond, as tenants were coming and going in their cars. He has to keep an eye on them too.

The condo has security cameras. Maiyuu will ask the office if he can take a look at them, and whether the condo has any insurance policy.

If not, I will have to shell out. Actually, I suspect I will have to pay for a new bike anyway. The one which was stolen cost almost B9000 more than a year ago.

This time, we will take a photograph of the bike, and show it to the guards, so they know we own the thing. They see Maiyuu on his bike several times a day.

He has never loaned his bike to anyone, as he does almost everything alone, but it is asking too much of the guards that they notice such things.

It is much more likely that they will believe some crap about a lazy Thai uncle loaning his nephew his ATM card.

I will talk to the office about tightening up security. If some stranger shows at the gate wanting to meet his uncle, he should call his uncle down to meet him, or at least get him on the phone.

The security guard should take the tenant's name, and ask to see the visitor’s ID card.

Yanking the ship back to berth

Today is the fifth anniversary of the death of Ball’s father from alcoholism. He was 39.

He was father to his three other children too, of course, but I know them all through Ball, the first member of the family I met.

Ball's memories of when his father left them are vague. Previously he has told me it happened about three years ago.

Yesterday, I asked his mother when the anniversary was coming up, as I knew it was soon. 'Tomorrow...and it's the fifth year since he left us,' she said.

Today Mum and the kids rose early to make merit in honour of their father’s memory. They were to make food offerings to the monks on their morning alms round.

Mum prepared food offerings, which she and the family were to put in the monks’ bowls. The monks offer a prayer in return.

Mum called me at 6.30. She had just fed the monks; the kids were about to follow.

‘Mali, there’s no need for you to come, as you are Christian. Let the kids do it, to honour their Dad.’

-
Ball has now told his mother that he is a father-to-be.

Ball’s girlfriend Jay discovered recently that she is pregnant, but at first Ball said nothing.

He found a quiet moment a few days ago when he was alone with his mother to tell her. As he expected, she took the news in her stride.

‘I am already exhausted...maybe you should put me in an elderly person’s home,’ she joked.

Ball and Jay have started discussing the future, and how their lives will change.

They are making plans to improve their bedroom – a place where they will have to spend more of their time, once the child is born.

The bedroom has a hole in one wall, and needs a lick of paint.

The roof is also in a sad state: while no rain gets in, it contains a large opening to the alleyway outside. Noise from the neighbourhood travels into their room.

They also need a new mattress, and want to buy a fold-out divider, like Ball’s elder sister has outside her room next to theirs.

Ball’s sister Kae and her partner have a son, aged about 15 months. They leave the company of the family to retire to the privacy of their room whenever the boy needs a sleep, or is being unruly.

When their child is born, Ball and Jay expect they will have to do the same, so want to make the living space comfortable in preparation for the big day, which should fall next May.

-
Ball knows his life will change once he becomes a dad.

‘I cannot carry on like I am,’ he says. 'I drink heavily, usually when my girlfriend is absent for long periods.

‘I am aggressive with my family but the next day when I wake, I can’t remember anything.’

-
Below is a piece I wrote in an email to a friend a couple of weeks ago, about one of Ball’s benders, as I call them.

I did not publish it at the time, as the memory of what happened was still too raw. It happened before he discovered his girlfriend was pregnant.

I am publishing it today not to spite the memory of Ball’s father, of course, but to serve as a reminder of his son’s behaviour, should he be tempted to lapse again.

-

Ball lost control of himself again the other night. He drank the equivalent of a bottle and a half of whisky.

I dropped in to see him after work, as I was alarmed to hear how much he had consumed.

I had called his mother an hour earlier. By the time I arrived, she was asleep, oblivious to Ball and his plight.

Shortly after I arrived, his girlfriend Jay walked out in protest, as he refused to go to bed.

I spent the next 90min there, as he wandered about the slum looking for his girlfriend.

He tried to persuade me to take him to a karaoke shop, even though he was so drunk he could barely walk.

I called Jay. At first she hung up on me, but eventually answered; she was talking to friends at the Tops supermarket where she used to work.

Ball grabbed the motorbike keys to head out after her. I confiscated them as he was too drunk to drive, which made him angry.

His elder brother Boy said he couldn't leave home again, and they fought.

They threw punches at each other. His mother, her partner Lort and a niece tried to keep them apart amid much screaming and drama.

I do not interfere in fight scenes, as I know it's hopeless. However, I believe that if I hadn't wrested the keys away from him, he would now be in hospital, or worse.

No one is interested in Ball when he is drunk. Boy only stepped in when I asked for his help. Ball was way too drunk to drive. Earlier, he almost staggered onto a busy road outside their place as he looked flor his girlfriend in the slum.

Ball punched and kicked a brick wall close to home in frustration, hurting his hand, as I negotiated with Jay over the phone, imploring her to come home.

I was stuck there alone with him – rattling about dirty slum alleyways, at the mercy of when his protesting girlfriend decided to return.

I urged Ball to go home and wait, but he refused. He urged me to home to bed, but I knew I couldn't leave him alone.

The fuss died down when Jay finally agreed to come back.

I spent the last half hour with Ball playing on gym equipment in the slum, as he started to sober up, and his normally buoyant spirits returned.

We have decided to do more exercise together, as he wants to build up his 'six pack'.

When he rose the next day he looked bad, but made it to work. He stayed an hour or so before he came home again, as he felt too ill to carry on.

About 10am, Ball's mother called saying he was home. I dropped in to see them.

Mum had bought him a half bottle of whisky. I was so upset to see him that I couldn't contain myself. Mum and Lort noticed and asked what was wrong.

I asked Ball to stand up, and I smacked him three times across the bottom in front of them.

'Look what he's done to me!' he joked to his mother.

He looked embarrassed, but did not get angry. I told him he was lucky to be alive. He apologised for upsetting me, and said he knew he was behaving like a child.

I asked him if he felt guilty about his father's death, or angry with his father.

'I am disappointed that at the moment he died, I was upstairs in my room. Dad was lying on the living room floor. When I returned, I found he was dead,'  he said.

'I am not angry with him, though I am unhappy with myself.'

I believe the effect of his father's death lingers nonetheless.

'I think your father's death is tied up with your loner tendencies, and your persistent need to drink,' I said.

Ball is proud of the fact that, of all the kids, Dad was closest to him. He was his father's carer...making him meals, following him about the slum when Dad was drunk, cleaning up after him when he soiled himself.
'The other kids are closer to each other than they are to me,' he said.

Mum heard, but said nothing.

A picture of Ball's father sits on the wall, with a small shrine below it.

'Your dad is still here, watching you,' I said. 'His spirit will never leave.'

Earlier that morning, Boy apologised to Ball for fighting with him.

Mum was impressed that Boy would apologise to his younger brother.

I had dropped in briefly before he went to work, and witnessed the apology. It didn't do much for me.

I reminded her that Ball apologised to Boy the night before. His mother is blinkered in favour of Boy...no wonder Ball gets upset.

When Boy was fighting with Ball, I witnessed a new side of Boy, who is nothing like the courageous soldier his mother portrays him to be. He looked scared.

Ball, who admittedly was drunk, isn't scared or intimidated by his elder brother. If he worries about anything, it is that opinion will swing against him even more if he takes on Boy, who is regarded as the hero of the family.

We drank further, chatted some more. I asked Ball if I could stand in for his Dad's spirit for just a moment, as I had something to say.

'Please lean your head towards me,' I said.

Ball did as he was told.

When he was within range, I kissed his forehead, and told him I forgave him for everything.

'Stop beating yourself up. I want you to be happy,' I said.

Ball smiled, and nodded.

He didn't mind the kiss. I hope he understood.

-

I wondered if I would get thumped when I took the motorcycle keys off Ball. He told me the next day he would not dare hit me. That's good news. However, it hardly relieves my anxiety about a repeat performance.

One part of the problem stems from his living environment. It is crowded, and too small. He can do things outside the slum, such as play on the exercise equipment, but it is hardly appealing if he has to go alone.

Ball claims his friends are too busy. I am not convinced. I believe it is easier for him to drink, so he drinks. Taking the initiative by stepping outdoors to press weights or play a game of football with his brother or friends is harder, so he doesn't do it.

He is a loner, and being a teen, believes no one understands him. Our relationship has reached the point where he now trusts me fully, which is touching, but which hardly improves matters.

I am like an elder brother who actually cares, or perhaps a close friend which he lacks. But still he drinks.

When I refuse his requests to borrow money for drinking, he does not resent it...in fact, like most kids, he looks as if he appreciates the direction.

I hope to build on his desire for guidance to shape his behaviour. We need to reach an understanding about what is acceptable behaviour where he and the bottle are concerned.

The bottle can get in the way of healthy, productive relationships. It is much easier to drink alone than interact with family and friends, or face up to responsibilities.

Ball’s relationship with his family and his girlfriend have drifted far enough from their moorings. It’s time to yank the ship back to berth.

Just barge right in

Maiyuu was on my back, massaging my shoulders, a service he performs occasionally when I am in his good books.

Bad boy Kew phone called. I asked Maiyuu to answer the phone. 'Who is it?' said Maiyuu, who is nothing if not blunt.

'Beer', said Kew.

Kew, whose real nickname is Beer but who calls himself Kew to his friends, was taken aback by the strange voice on the phone.

'Maybe that's Kew,' I said.

'Is that Kew? Why not just say so?' Maiyuu said into the phone, sounding even more direct.

Kew was taken aback a second time. 'Who was that guy getting smart?' he said to me, when I finally took the phone off Maiyuu.

'I sound just like a straight guy these days...I don't bother with any of that polite gay stuff when I speak any more,' said Maiyuu, by way of explanation.

Kew has taken up learning guitar, and asked if he could borrow mine.

I hummed and hah-ed. The last time I lent him my guitar, I had to wait weeks before he would return it.

'If it is a problem, don't worry,' said Kew.

Really, he shouldn't have asked.

'That's the problem with Bangkok kids these days - they show no sense of restraint, modesty, or respect for other people's feelings,' complained Maiyuu.