Sumalee

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“I do not doubt it,” I said, thinking of how much I liked the sound of her laughter.



We pedalled for a couple of hours, covering fifteen kilometres of coastline, and stopping occasionally to see something, rest or at a kiosk for drinks. One of them sold oysters for a dollar, so we ate a couple each. To drink, advised by Sumalee, I ordered a couple of Tiger beers, the typical beer there, which had a tiger as a logo and was a pale golden colour. It was smooth and I liked it. We cheered for many days like this.



We saw people fishing on the docks, families, couples in love, friends barbecuing, long sandy beaches with a width ranging from ten meters to just one with palms and other trees, but the beaches were not the greatest, there were plenty of plastic bottles scattered and the sea was always full of large freighters. There was also a skating rink with obstacles, areas with equipment for gymnastics, volleyball courts, covered benches to rest, narrow roads of large flat stones where only one could walk ... and many maps to guide you along the way. The possibilities were amazing, although the maintenance and cleanliness not as expected. Sumalee told me that it used to be better and that in recent times it had declined slightly. I found funny a sign prohibiting laser pointers pointing to airplanes. The planes passed very low because Changi Airport was not far from there. Another complaint about the place was the overcrowding in almost all areas, although I had to keep in mind that it was Sunday, the day with the highest number of people. In theory, the rest of the days would be much quieter.



When we got tired of going around, we stopped at a beach area where there was nobody. It was getting late and people were going home. Tomorrow was Monday and back to work. We took our shoes off and approached the shore of the sea. We stopped right where the water of the waves caressed occasionally our feet.



“Water in this area tends to be dirty, it is not advisable to bathe, although we have seen some do it”, Sumalee said. “In any case, they do not allow swimming too far from the shore.”



“Dirty? Is there something dirty in Singapore? That is news to me. Although these beaches also need cleaning.”



“Yes. It is because of all the ships. Even so, I sometimes come here, I sit, and I lose myself watching the blue of the sea. I know that on the other side is my land, my home, my mother.”



I looked at Sumalee. For a moment she had become melancholic and seemed about to cry. I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her gently toward me.



“It must be hard to be away from her for so long and, above all, knowing that she needs you. You have to think that this is all for her and that once you pay your debt, you will be able to be together forever and you've been the one who saved her.”



“Yes, when I will have paid my debt,” said with a sigh. “Even if it means making decisions that I do not always like.”



“What decisions?”



“Eh! Nothing, nothing. My things.”



We remained cuddled for some time without saying anything. Close by we could see a catamaran and a few yellow kayaks rented from the park. Farther dozens of freighters, all large or very large. I guess their waste and loss of gasoline in the water was enough to make the water dirty regardless of how much cleaning they did.



Sunlight began to decrease. It was beginning to get dark. According to the park schedule it was only illuminated from 7:00 to 19:00. Soon it will be dark, and we had to go back because we didn’t want to ride in the dark.



Sumalee came closer and I felt her head touching my body. I gathered all my courage and looked for her arm with mine. It did not take me long to find it and I squeezed it tightly. She reciprocated. The dirty beach, dirty water or number of ships did not matter. The orange sky, the silence around us broken only by a singing bird and her hand clutching mine, was heaven.



I turned to her nervous and with my other hand I gently grabbed her chin and lifted her head slightly so that we looked into each other’s eyes a few centimetres apart. She looked at me serious, intensely, expectantly. I ducked my head and put my lips on hers. She parted them a little and I took her lower lip between mine. I held it one second savouring it and then pulled away slowly, slowly letting it go. For a moment I thought she was going to throw herself to give me another kiss, but suddenly her face changed.



“We have ... we have to go, she said shakily.”



“I suppose, although it’s not because I feel like moving from here. I want this moment to last forever.”



She didn't answer. She turned and pulled my hand to follow her. We got on the bicycles and rode back to the entrance as fast as we could. Even so, the last few minutes were in almost dark.



We returned the bikes and walked to the bus stop holding hands and without saying a word. We had to take different buses. The first to arrive was hers. When we arrived at the stop, she gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, she caressed my face with a hint of sadness in her eyes and got on. Halfway on the stairs she turned and said:



“Talk soon. Take care of yourself!”



“You too, Sumalee. Is everything alright?”



She turned without answering and looked for a seat. I watched her bus go with a strange feeling. A mixture of euphoria from the kiss and confusion given her attitude afterwards. I was not sure what to expect. She did not reject the kiss, even reciprocated, but something stopped her after, she did not look at me and had seemed lost in thoughts, I would say almost afflicted. Still, she said we will talk. How was I supposed to interpret this? Maybe she did not want to kiss me because she didn’t feel the same as me, but was not able to say no, maybe the kiss reminded her of a past lover ... Maybe in her culture was wrong to kiss so soon. I had no idea.



I had to find out, I needed to know. Now I could only think about how she would be the next time we will see each other: the cheerful and always smiling Sumalee or the dejected one that just said goodbye to me.



I couldn’t wait to know the answer.










 Thailand 14



I was sitting on the patio watching the Muay Thai training. I was thinking about how the worst of the prison was boredom. So many hours alone with nothing to do, no one to talk to, not even to share a thought, when I was approached by a large, bald and disturbed face man who sometimes I saw hanging around. He had a long scar, badly healed, all the way from the left eye to the middle of the head. He did not relate much to the rest of the prisoners and no one seemed to want to get too close to him. He looked like being quite sick in the head. He stood in front of me swinging from side to side and stared at me without blinking. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was he going to hit me, or he just enjoyed staring at me? In any case it was scary. After a few seconds of tension, he turned to me with a strong Australian accent.



“What did you do to them?”



“What?”



“Yes, what did you do to those damn yellows that they treat you this way?” he asked again nodding to the group of stalkers chatting to the other end of the yard.



“Nothing, as far as I know … I have not done anything to anyone in jail. As they are not brothers of the bitch that got me in here ...”



“Yeah, it is strange then that they pursue you the way they do, right?”



“Exactly my thoughts. What can I do?”



“Nothing, I guess.”



“It's not that I mind you chatting with me, in fact I really appreciate it, but aren’t you afraid that they will come after you for talking to me? Nobody wants to come anywhere close to me because of that.”



“After me? I don't think so. Since I came here, I played the part of a dangerous madman capable of anything, and since then, nobody messes with me. And this for many years.”



“How did you manage that?” I asked, but really it should have not been difficult to impersonate a dangerous madman. I believed it. I could have used a strategy like that.



“The first day when a fucking yellow skin stood before me thuggish, I screamed like a madman and I pounced on him, hitting, biting, pulling hair ... As if a demon possessed me. I almost killed him. In fact, in that fight I got this scar when his friends came to defend him. But he was worse, I assure you.” He said it with sadistic eyes and half a smile. “I spent a while in isolation, but when I came out between my not very friendly face and the fame generated by the fight no one has dared to cross my path. Occasionally I do something stupid or scare someone so that they don’t forget that I am capable of anything and that's it. If they see me with you, they will think it's an eccentricity over the

farang

 crackpot. By the way, my name is James,” he said, extending his hand.



“David, delighted,” I replied giving my hand in turn. “What's that

 farang

?”



“It's what the stupid locals call us westerners. I don’t know if it means foreigner, white or demon; but I don’t care either. And another thing, don’t get me wrong, just because I’m talking to you it doesn’t mean that I’ll help you when they attack you. It’s one thing that I like to mess with them a little and quite another to risk it with the chinos for you, I don’t give a shit about you.”



It was clear that my new friend did not hold great esteem for the Thai, not to say he seemed pretty racist, but it's not that I had much choice. He was the first person who dared to relate to me since I got in. Under normal circumstances I would have turned around after telling him what I thought of racists, but I wasn’t in a normal situation. In fact, I was right in the opposite of normal. And I didn’t completely disagree that there were some Thai people who deserved to die. At least some.

 



We talked banalities for a while. He made fun a bit of the prisoners who were training, screaming at them as if it was the final of the world championship fight and he had staked all his money on the result of the combat. Some stopped to see who was screaming like that at them, but when they saw it was him, they minded their own business. I didn’t want any attention, so I put my head between my legs so that they don’t recognize me.



He also spent a few minutes cursing about the number of blacks in the prison. He told me that almost all of them were Nigerians and all were in for drug related issues. There was a lot of drug trafficking with Nigeria. Although, their leader was not Nigerian, that's for sure, though no one seemed to know his origin. He was a man also black, big and strong, with a curious crescent shaped scar on the face and which all seemed to fear. Even James. Apparently, he was an African mercenary, a child of war forced to fight and kill from a very young age and who didn’t mess around. He seemed very quiet, but when needed, he was very violent and did not seem to be afraid of anything or anyone. There were many rumours about him, though no one knew whether they were true or false: that he had was forced to kill his brother when he was forced to enrol in an armed group at eleven. Two years later he killed the boss that ordered him to kill his brother and he was named leader. That he was a hired murderer, that he had been slaving in the Congo war, that he ate the heart of his victims, that he had raped hundreds of men and women, including children, that he enjoyed killing with his bare arms, that once he burned alive a whole town just because they would not tell him where a person who he was searching for was, that he had trafficked with all kinds of illegal products ... So many atrocities ... and looking at him none seemed impossible. He was really scary. Very. Fortunately, he was completely ignoring me.



When James got tired of cursing everyone, he got up and left as he had come, without saying anything. I saw him walk away, feeling partly relieved to have been able to talk to someone after so long.



At this point this was satisfying enough.





Singapore 7



When I got home Josele and Damaso jumped on me with questions about the date. We sat in the living room and told them what we did, where we went and, above all, what happened in the end on the beach. The two stopped to think about it for a moment. Josele was the first to speak.



“Sure, it's a paranoia of yours. She only wanted to take things slower.”



“I don’t know, Josele. You were not there. It was something else. It seemed that we would continue kissing and then something crossed her mind and she pulled back. I'm sure of what she wanted, but I cannot imagine what made her stop. Maybe she has some kind of disease that can infect, I don’t know what to think.”



“Don’t be silly. Sure is something much simpler than that. Things tend to be simpler than we think, it is us who complicate them. Sure, it's what you say about the customs in her country or something like that.”



“I'm with Josele,” said Damaso. “Ask her out this week and you will see how things turn around.”



“I hope you are right. I only know her for two days, but this girl has something special that makes me crazy.”



“Are you falling in love...” Josele said.



“No way! How can I be in love if I just met her yesterday? All I wanted was a girl to have fun with.”



“Well now you tell me,” Josele said. “The first night nothing, yesterday a little kiss and today you are eating coals ... My friend you have a problem.”



“Yes, you do,” whispered Damaso mockingly. “I also noticed it when you introduced her to us yesterday ... He has a point.” He said bursting in laughter.



“What a jerk you are!”



We all laughed hard. I could use a little nonsense. It was true that she was a lovely girl with an amazing body. It was clear that it was the first thing I noticed when I saw her at the bar. But as we talked during the party, Saturday, I began to realize that almost certainly she was even prettier on the inside than on the outside and that she could enrich my life. I heard myself saying those sappy things and I laughed thinking I could have not fallen in love in just two days. Maybe it was due to the low mood I brought with me from Spain with the recent break up. Damaso then surprised me with the story of a girl from Singapore which Josele had been with.



“And, are you going to see her again?” I asked.



“With her? Not only I don’t have her phone number, but I don’t even know her name. With these names so different ...” Josele could not stop laughing.



We laughed hard again. Josele was an incurable Casanova. Damaso did not dismiss a good chance if it crossed his path, but what attracted him more was the party, any sports on which he could bet, tanning and golf.



I went to bed early because next day was Monday and I had to work, but I could not sleep the entire night. I tossed and turned in bed looking at the phone to see if she wrote a message and wondering if I should write one. I decided not to do it because I did not want to overwhelm her, but I did not lack the desire.





When the time came to wake up, I had barely slept a couple of hours in short periods of time. Every time I woke up, I looked at the phone for a message from her. I tried to convince myself that it was not so bad, but it didn’t work. We went to the office and had breakfast in the cafeteria with Diego, Tere, Jérôme and a very shy girl named Aileen Beijing Meng. Knowing that Diego and Tere were together I could not look at them as before. Now everything seemed to me gestures of complicity between them. I could not help smiling when I saw them together. Envy, perhaps.



Jerome and Diego told a story that seemed very funny from the way they all laughed, about the look on the face when an American tourist was fined a thousand dollars for chewing gum. Gum was prohibited in Singapore. He tried to argue with the police about the meaning of discrimination bringing up individual liberties and lots more typical movie ideas than the reality of Singapore. I struggled to smile when I noticed that the others were doing it, but I was too distracted. I thought it was a good time to talk to Sumalee. I distanced myself a bit from the rest and I wrote her a message to which she responded almost immediately.



“Good morning.”



“Hey!”



“Can I call you?”



“Yes, of course.”



I got out from the cafeteria and called her while walking through the halls.



“How are you?”



“Fine. And you?”



“Very tired, I couldn’t sleep much.”



“How come?”



“I was thinking about yesterday.”



“It was good, right?”



“Yes, I had a blast, but you left me a little puzzled.”



“How come?”



All right, here it goes. The moment of truth. My motto in these cases was, sincerity takes you where you should be or where you'll end up being, so the sooner the better. With all the consequences.



“I don’t know, I loved kissing you, I really wanted it, but then I got the impression that something stopped you. Maybe I rushed and I shouldn’t have done it so soon. We only know each other for two days ...



“No, no, no. I loved it.”



“Then why the face later?”



“Nothing ... I was tired and it was getting late and we had to get out of the park while there was still light. That's all.”



“Are you sure? Sumalee, I don’t want to pressure you. We can go at the pace you want, but I need you to be honest. I hate lies, for better or for worse.”



For a moment she didn’t say anything. The wait drove me crazy.



“Sumalee?”



"Yes, yes. Honestly, it was nothing. I loved the kiss.” It was a very fun day with a very special ending.”



“I really liked it too. I mean everything. Not only the kiss. The market, the delicious meal at your friend’s, Kai-Mook, restaurant and the bike ride through the park ... and of course the kiss. That was the best part. Would you like to meet again?”



“Of course!” She said with the jovial voice that I liked so much to hear, “but I can’t until Wednesday. I have a lot of work.”



“Until Wednesday! Alright, alright. I'll try to hold out until then. If you want, I invite you to dinner.”



“I think it’s a very good idea. Where?”



“Well, I'll let you know tomorrow or Wednesday morning. I have to find a nice place to live up to your friend’s restaurant.”



“Sounds good, we’ll talk. I have to go because there are customers entering the agency. Kisses.”



“And one for you.”



I heard the sound of the kiss through the phone. Although it was virtual it tasted like glory. I was not sure what to make of the conversation because at first, she seemed reserved and cautious, but then she turned into the giggly Sumalee. In the end, one believes what they want to believe. I put the phone in the pocket and walked toward my desk with a smile from ear to ear thinking that the time passes as quickly as possible to see her on Wednesday. When I told my roommates how the conversation went, immediately they congratulated me that nothing was wrong and Josele took it upon himself to find a different kind of restaurant where I can take her.





The day flew by. I felt as if I was floating on a cloud. Every time I closed my eyes, I relived the kiss, the soft touch of her lips between mine. Just thinking about it I gave me goose bumps.



Jerome, Damaso and other co-workers were going to grab a drink after work. As there was not much else to do, I went with them. We went to a pub that looked just like any pub on the street corner of London, with the difference that half the clientele was Asian. And that the alcohol was very expensive. Many people drank in the streets, which was legal and happened mostly on one of the bridges connecting the Clark Quay area, area of choice for tourists, or going to a street vendor to buy Tiger beer. Afterwards they went to the nightclubs once they had enough alcohol in the system, like I used to do in Madrid when I was young. In our case, since the apartment was paid for, money was not a problem.



We played some pool and darts, which kept me entertained until I went home. There I picked at some food from the fridge and soon went to bed. With no sleep the night before and such party, the body was collapsing. Just before getting into bed I wrote to Sumalee to wish her good night. She sent me a drawing of an oriental girl blowing a kiss that caused me euphoria and warmth on the inside and I sent her one as well. I slept like a baby.





Next day I woke up full of energy. We left for work, but I got off a couple of stops before. I felt like moving a little. I needed it. Besides, this way I could see a little more of the city. The street was full of Westerners going to work. That was not surprising considering that 40% of Singapore's population was made up of expatriates.



I spent the day working nonstop and dragging along poor Jerome with my energy, who had not gone to bed as early as me and had a hangover. When I finished work, I was still hyperactive, but I couldn’t convince anyone to do something interesting except Damaso to play tennis, so we went home, and we ran over an hour around the court. Damaso beat me, but I did not care. All I needed was a little relief. However, he reminded me about his victory several days, regretting that he did not bet before we started.



An American colleague, Sam, told me about a place that seemed great for my date with Sumalee the next day. With the issue of the place solved and since I had nothing else to do, I called my mother, told her how the last few days had been, but said nothing about Sumalee so that she didn’t begin with a fantasy movie wedding and many grandchildren, and spent the rest of the afternoon and night playing poker, Texas hold'em, in the living room, the three of us with Shen, a very nice Singaporean neighbour, of Chinese origin. I was able to do better than in the tennis match and, while at it, won enough to pay part of the next day´s dinner. Damaso did not take it very well, he was quite competitive. He kept saying that for weeks now he’s been going through a rough patch, although we did not know what he was talking about since it was our first game. Yes, he paid what he owed.

 



I felt like hearing Sumalee before going to bed, so I called her.



“Good evening, Sumalee.”



“Hello Davichu!”



“How do you know about Davichu?” That does not come in books.



“What do you think, I can’t investigate?” She said putting a face as if she had never broken a plate. “I have told my Portuguese co-worker about you and she speaks Spanish and has lived many years in Spain.”



“Oh, yeah, and what else has she told you?”



“Things about Span

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