The Farang Affair Read online

  He pulled a half-empty water bottle from his shoulder bag, dampened the hem of his robe and wiped gently at the woman's forehead. After a minute her twitching stopped and her eyelids flickered. A siren screamed in the background. Her eyes opened briefly then closed again. A pitiful moan came from her mouth.

  He took her by the hand and whispered softly, "Everything will be okay."

  He prayed he was right.

  At the hospital, he forced his way into the emergency room against the wishes of the doctors on duty. They gave way to his saffron robes and his insistence. He watched as the doctors examined the woman. The baby was dead.

  "You will take the baby from her?" he asked.

  "She has no money and no insurance," the doctor answered. "The hospital has rules."

  The monk noticed a trace of resignation in the doctor's voice. "I want her to have proper care. The cost is not important. I will pay."

  The doctor regarded him neutrally, "You have money?"

  The monk nodded. "My father is Isara Horungruang."

  The doctor proceeded to take the dead baby from Somjit.

  The following day the young monk went back to the hospital, paid what was owed, and took Somjit to the safe house at the temple. She did whatever he told her, but she didn't talk. She was in a state of physical and mental shock. The brutal beating by her husband and the loss of her baby had destroyed her.

  The monk could see the dark depression on her face. She was a patient in his care, and he was losing her. He hired a taxi to the nearest pharmacy to buy antibiotics and antidepressants. He treated Somjit with a fervor he had never felt in his life.

  Chapter 3

  Chiang Mai, Thailand

  Surat Duansawang awoke as dawn overtook the dark Thailand night. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, and then stared off into the heavy grayness.

  His room was one of two in the painfully small house. The concrete floor and corrugated tin walls made it more like a shack than a house, but it was his home.

  His cot took up nearly half the space in the room. A small dresser and an assortment of boxes crammed with personal belongings filled the rest. The second of his two rooms was almost identical, except they had somehow managed to fit a sewing machine into the already cramped space.

  Near the door sat the small duffel bag his wife had packed for him the night before. Hanging from a wire stretched along the ceiling were the clothes she had selected for him to wear today. He smiled at the thought of his wife asleep in the room next door.

  In a moment, he slipped into a pair of well-worn shorts, grabbed his towel, toothbrush and razor, and then stumbled outside. Today was going to be busy and he had to get started.

  Most mornings, Sawat's mouth tasted like something had crawled inside and died. He had never been able to smell his own breath, but he knew it couldn't be pleasant. He fiercely brushed his teeth and tongue.

  Today would begin a three day assignment driving a German couple to Chiang Rai and other places in the Golden Triangle area of northern Thailand. Surat wanted to make sure his breath didn't stink.

  When he finished brushing, he cupped his hand over his nose and mouth, exhaled slightly, and sniffed. He didn't smell anything except his hand. He hoped no one else would either. He rinsed his mouth one last time, and then abandoned the brushing for a bath.

  The cold water he ladled over himself shook away the last shreds of the drowsiness. He washed thoroughly, paying special attention to his underarms. He wanted his body to smell as good as his mouth.

  Five minutes later, satisfied he was as clean as he was going to get, he toweled himself dry.

  He caught sight of himself in a mirror hanging on the wall. At 177 centimeters he was taller than most of his friends. Even better he looked much younger than most of them; certainly younger than a man in his late thirties. Lucky genes, he figured.

  He combed his straight black hair into rough position with his fingers and moved closer to the mirror to examine his face for beard stubble. Hardly enough to shave but he shaved anyway.

  Surat was not a vain man but he cared how he looked. He had always taken pride in the light color of his skin and the green flecks in his eyes. It made him look aristocratic, high class. Lucky genes for sure. He rinsed and dried his clean shaved face, and then hurried back to his room.

  Quickly but quietly he dressed in neatly pressed slacks and white shirt. Both would be wrinkled within an hour, but that was okay. He was happy his wife had taken the time to iron his clothes to help him look professional.

  He walked to the room where she lay sleeping. Her stomach was swollen with his baby. He watched her with a tenderness only an expectant father can know.

  Chalamsee was his wife's given name but everyone knew her as Nuang. They had been married for nearly seventeen years. In all that time they had never had children. He had often wondered if it was him or her who was infertile. Now he knew it was neither.

  Nuang had become pregnant months ago. He remembered the day clearly. She had just returned from visiting her brother in Pattaya and wasted no time letting him know she wanted to have sex. He had never seen her so aggressive. It was like she was possessed.

  Surat had been surprised at the way his body responded. They made love that night for the first time in months. The following week they made love every day, but Surat knew it was that first night when she became pregnant. That evening had been magic and Nuang carried his child as proof. He could hardly wait for the baby to be born so he could brag to his friends. He didn't care whether it was a boy or a girl, or what it looked like, as long as the baby was healthy.

  He wondered how many more days it would be before his baby arrived. He hoped it would wait until his assignment was finished. He would be gone for less than three days but he worried nonetheless.

  Surat knelt silently beside his wife and laid his hand on her stomach. His touch was light. She stirred but didn't awaken. He stared at her face for a long minute, then leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Her eyes flicked open and she smiled up at him.

  "What time is it? Are you going to work now?"

  "I don't want to be late. Will you be okay until I return?"

  Nuang smiled at her husband, "I’ll be fine. The baby won't be born before you return. I will make it wait for you."

  Surat laughed. "I think the baby will come when the baby wants to come and you can't make it wait."

  "Not yet born and already I have a disobedient child. Sort of like his father, don't you think?"

  "I’d say more like her mother."

  Nuang slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "Get out of here and let your fat wife finish her sleep."

  Surat laughed, "You are not a fat wife. You're the most beautiful woman in Thailand. I'll be back in three days. If you need anything, call me on my cell phone."

  Nuang's smile faded into seriousness. "Please drive safely."

  "I always do," he said. "I will be home as soon as I can. Goodbye, teelak. I love you."

  "Goodbye," she whispered as Surat picked up his small suitcase and left their house. "I love you, too."

  Nuang shut her eyes and tried to sleep but couldn't. She lay there thinking. The last few years of her life had been full of surprises. Her brother had opened his own business in Pattaya, her younger sister had married a man from Scotland and moved away, and her youngest sister had fallen in love with an American. Her own pregnancy was the biggest surprise of all. No one had expected it, especially herself.

  But there had been tragedies, too. Her mother and father had separated, her brother-in-law and her nephew had drowned in a freak accident, and her sister who loved the American had died in a motorcycle accident. Nuang wondered what would come next, a good surprise or another tragedy.

  A sharp pain interrupted her thoughts. She'd had stomach cramps like that before—just last week in fact. She had been sure she was going into labor and Surat had rushed her to the hospital. After a series of tests, the doctors had diagnosed her with an acut
e case of gas and sent her home. The baby would not arrive for another two or three weeks. Nuang's embarrassment had been complete. She wouldn't go to the hospital with gas pains again.

  As the cramp eased, she turned her thoughts to the day she had told Surat she was pregnant. She had never seen anyone so happy. From that moment on he had become a different man. Surat had started working harder than ever before, and when he was home he doted on her entirely. He had even started offering to send money to her family in Phitsanulok.

  Nuang couldn't believe the change in her husband. If only he had been like this forever, she thought, their lives would have been much different. During the months she had been pregnant, she and Surat had rediscovered their love for each other. She prayed their happiness would last.

  Chapter 4

  Nuang dozed on and off for a while, but never fully slept. By ten o'clock the tropical Thailand sun had heated their corrugated tin house to uncomfortable levels and she'd begun to sweat. It was time to get up. She left the bed and got dressed.

  She wanted to go outside and wash, but she didn't. The thought of anyone seeing her pregnant body embarrassed her. Huge abdomen, widened hips, and swollen breasts. Later, she would bring a bucket of water inside and wash herself in private. Surat wouldn't be home tonight so she wasn't concerned that she might smell bad.

  Nuang turned on the fan and propped open the oversized shutters of the front wall. In a few minutes, the fan and a breeze had cooled the house a few degrees and she stopped sweating.

  She stood in the doorway and watched the cars, trucks, and motorcycles passing by. Down the street, a sidewalk vendor was setting up for lunch. The vendor's name was Noy and she was an excellent cook. Nuang's stomach rumbled at the thought of food.

  As she reached for her purse, a familiar terror gripped her. Her eyes darted through the house but she saw nothing. She strained her ears, but didn't hear the voices. If they were here, they were quieter than usual.

  She checked the strips of aluminum foil hanging from the ceiling. She had put them there to ward off the demons, and they were fluttering out of position. At once she turned off the fan and the aluminum strips stopped moving. She went to the door and cautiously stuck her hand outside. She felt nothing. The voices stayed silent.

  She picked up her purse, pulled the door closed, and waddled to Noy's sidewalk restaurant.

  "Sawasdee ka," Noy greeted her politely. "You look wonderful today."

  "Khop khun ka," Nuang smiled. Thank you. "I don't feel so good today. I think maybe I am hungry."

  "I can cure that," Noy smiled. "My special today is cashew chicken on rice."

  Nuang had eaten this before and it was good. "Yes, I will have that and a bottle of water."

  As Nuang waited for her meal, another contraction twisted her insides. She nearly cried out at its intensity. Maybe not a gas pain, she thought. She turned away so Noy couldn't see the grimace on her face. Suddenly she felt hot and flushed. Beads of sweat formed and ran down her face. Her head spun. For a moment she thought she might faint. The contraction subsided about the same time that Noy delivered her food.

  "Are you okay?" Noy asked, noticing the look on Nuang's face.

  "I don't know. I feel dizzy and my stomach is cramping. I'm not sure I can eat."

  Noy touched Nuang's forehead. "You're warm but you aren't feverish. I think I should put your food in a bag so you can take it home. You can eat later, when you feel better. Are you having labor pains?"

  "I don't know. I've never had a baby before. I don't know what labor pains feel like."

  "Never mind. You will know soon enough. I'll walk you to your house."

  Nuang's cramps returned when she stood and grew worse as she walked. Less than halfway home she stopped; a look of utter embarrassment covered her face.

  "What's wrong?" Noy asked.

  "I think I just peed myself," Nuang answered, wincing.

  Noy looked at the small pool of liquid forming at Nuang's feet. "I think your water just broke. Is your husband at home?"

  "No."

  "Then you can forget going there. I will get you to the hospital. Unless I miss my guess, you'll be having a baby before the day is over."

  "I must go home." Nuang forced her words between clinched teeth. "I need to bathe, and put on clean clothes. My house shutters are open. Someone might break in and steal my sewing machine."

  "I’ll close your shutters and you won't need clean clothes in the hospital. Go now and I'll hear no arguments. Understand?"

  Nuang nodded.

  Two minutes later she was bouncing through the streets of Chiang Mai in a three-wheeled tuk-tuk taxi. The ride did nothing for her pain. As the tuk-tuk stopped at the front of the hospital she heard the voices and they were laughing.

  While Noy closed up and bolted down the house, she found a piece of paper and wrote a note for Nuang's husband. "Your wife has gone to the hospital to have your baby."

  After everything was secure, Noy locked the front door and hurried back to her restaurant.

  Nuang spent the next six hours at the hospital in periodic misery. The contractions came and went, but mostly they came. She never thought labor would be so painful.

  In her thirty-six years Nuang had seen many women get pregnant and have babies, but it had never happened to her. She had stopped thinking about having a family years ago. Now she was in the final stages of labor and she was scared. Thirty-six was too old to be having a baby under the best of conditions. It is definitely too old when you're not sure who the father is. That last thought terrified her.

  It's your husband's baby, she had been telling herself since she learned she was pregnant. It's your husband's baby. She knew the words were probably a lie, but she kept telling herself that anyway.

  Nuang knew who the father was if it wasn't Surat, yet she denied the thought every time it entered her head. She had once made love to a man other than her husband, just weeks before she learned she was pregnant. It was the only time in her life that she had been unfaithful. It had been a fluke, a twist of fate, a mistake. Women don't get pregnant from having sex just once, she struggled to convince herself. She and Surat had made love many times. It had to be Surat's baby.

  The doctor came into her hospital room and did some tests and measurements.

  "You will be giving birth very soon," he announced. "You are a small woman and your delivery may be uncomfortable. I’m going to give you something for the pain, and then we will start to work bringing your baby into the world."

  Nuang only nodded. Her latest contraction had eased but still wouldn't allow her to speak.

  "Is your husband here?" the doctor asked, making conversation as he worked.

  She managed a weak no.

  "If you’d like, we can contact him."

  "No," she said again, her words stronger this time. "I don't want my husband near me."

  "Okay," the doctor replied evenly, "It isn't uncommon for women to feel like that at about this time of delivery. You will feel better about him later. I see on your chart your nickname is Nuang. May I call you Nuang?"

  Her contraction eased to acceptable levels. "Yes, that would be better. It's my name."

  Five minutes later they had finished giving her an epidural and the pain had all but vanished. The relief was bliss.

  At seven twenty-four p.m., Mrs. Chalamsee "Nuang" Duansawang gave birth to a daughter. What she saw, when they brought the baby to her, confirmed her deepest fears. There was no mistaking whose baby it was and it wasn't her husband's.

  She made them take the baby away so she could think. The voices, which had been tormenting her for the last few weeks, came back and they were louder than ever. They insisted she must run away. That night, Nuang made her plans.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning, against the doctor's orders, Nuang left the hospital and took her newborn baby with her. She was not feeling well and knew she should stay, but the voices were unrelenting. Her mind was a dizzy blur. She was in shock fr
om her labor. She was in even more shock from seeing what had emerged from her womb. She could not let Surat see this baby.

  Her first stop was an ATM where she withdrew most of the money from their bank account. Next she took a taxi to the Chiang Mai bus station and bought a one way ticket to her hometown of Phitsanulok. She found a seat away from the main terminal and waited for her departure time.

  She kept the baby's face covered with the blanket she had taken from the hospital. She didn't want anyone to see it. No one needed to know her baby had fair hair and blue eyes.

  Four hours after checking herself out of the hospital, Nuang and her newborn baby boarded their bus to Phitsanulok. She breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the main road heading south. An unexpected coldness crept through her. She wished she had taken time to go by her house for clothes. If the bus stayed this cold, it would be a long ride to Phitsanulok. She thought she might even freeze to death.

  An hour out of Chiang Mai, the baby awoke and began to cry. The passengers within eyeshot turned to look, then turned away.

  Nuang wasn't sure what to do. She knew the baby must be hungry, but she had never breastfed a baby before. She rocked back and forth in her seat hoping the cries would stop, but they didn't. Finally, she knew she had no choice. She unbuttoned her blouse and put the baby's mouth to her breast.

  It was an unusual sensation. Surat almost never touched her breasts, and had never taken one in his mouth, not even when they made love. The feeling was not unpleasant, just different. She kept the blanket pulled across her as the baby nursed.

  The man seated across the aisle from her stared for a few minutes when he realized she was nursing a baby, but lost interest when she held the blanket in place. No one gave her a second look as she softly patted the baby's back to burp him.

  Nuang slipped one hand under the blanket and probed a finger into the diaper. It was wet. She hadn't thought to buy diapers before getting on the bus. Even if she had, she was sure she didn't want to change the diaper on the bus while it was daylight.