Best of Asian Erotica, Volume 2

PAININ Brenton Rossow, Thailand

I forgot to write Painin’s phone number in my notebook. I could check it from one of her emails or go to the restaurant where she worked and ask one of her old workmates. I’d told Painin I would stay at the same bungalow but I didn’t tell her the time I was arriving. It was stupid to think she’d be waiting for me. The man at the guesthouse said he hadn’t seen her, so I pissed the colour of a hornbill’s beak and headed towards her old restaurant. Painin’s friend remembered me and giggled when she asked if I was Painin’s darling, and tried to call my baby. The first time she didn’t get through. The second time she got a hold of Painin as I was washing my hands in the bathroom.

I began to feel anxious. I adjusted my shirt, so I didn’t look fat and positioned my chair so I could see Painin when she came into the restaurant.

After a dry sandwich, I began leaning over the balustrade so I could see her as she drove up the street. I began to feel sleepy, stretched out on some cushions and fell asleep.

When I awoke an hour later, Painin still hadn’t arrived. I went downstairs to speak to her friend with the mobile. After trying a few times and getting an engaged signal her friend got through and handed me the phone.

‘Hello’

‘Who’s this?’

‘It’s Blinch from Thailand.’

‘You no like me. Why you want see me?’

My heart sank. What’s she talking about? What’s she playing at?

‘If I didn’t like you, why would I come all the way to Vientiane? It’s Blinch from Thailand. I was here six weeks ago. We sent each other emails.

I miss you… I want to see you.’

‘I busy working now. I told you we finish already. I not want see you.’

‘What? What are you talking about? You never said we were finished.

Come and see me at the bungalow.’

‘Okay. I come see you at 4 pm.’

What happened? My heart began fluttering all over the shop. Why would she send me those emails saying she wanted to see me, then blow me off like a pencil shaving?

I picked up my bag, smiled faintly at the girl in the restaurant who was blushing with embarrassment and began walking down the street. How sure I had been that our story would turn out the way I wanted. How confident I had been as I boarded the bus to Vientiane with photographs of Painin and Sai in the top pocket of my rucksack.

I decided to visit Uncle Mimi. Old Funky Lips wasted no time skinning up. We sat upstairs on his balcony, blowing smoke clouds into the street. He waited patiently, every so often nodding his head. Then, after I finished my story, he told me to forget Painin and find myself a new girl.

‘Many girl,’ he said, patting my shoulder. ‘Lucky you no kid.’

I thanked Uncle Mimi, stepped out the doorway—heart hurting like crazy as the weed weaseled its way into my stream—and walked into the sunshine. In a vacant block across the street, I noticed some artists had strung paintings between the branches of a few spindly trees and fastened them together on a length of string. Cigarette at lip, beer in hand, I began to lose myself in the colours of jungle villages and the swirl of water lilies. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned and Painin was standing in front of me; toes hanging from high heels, miniskirt and a tight white midriff.

She looked up, smiled and took my hand.

‘I was with my friend and I saw you look painting, so I come see.’

‘I missed you, Painin. I don’t understand why you’re angry with me. I came all this way to be with you. What’s going on?’

‘You not help me when I ask you send money for motorbike. You not call. You not care.’

‘Of course I care, but what could I do? I have to work six weeks before I get a holiday. It was impossible to come and see you right away.’

She raised her eyebrows and squeezed my hand. Looking down, I noticed she was carrying a plastic bag.

‘What’s that?’

‘My new telephone, I just bought from market. I borrow money from friend.’

‘How much was it?’

‘Seven thousand. It have many song and photograph. It very expensive.’

Something in the back of my mind registered things weren’t okay, but I kept staring, hypnotized by her voluptuous lines.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked as she led me by the hand.

‘I want go temple.’

‘Here,’ I said reaching into my rucksack. ‘Here are some photos of you, Sai and my apartment in Thailand.’

She studied them, carefully lingering on the photo of my apartment, then stood on tippy toes and kissed me. It was a long slow kiss, full of absence and ecstasy. I held her by the hipbone and relished her warm tanned skin.

She reached down and grabbed my balls, looked me in the eyes… let go…

then continued walking. We walked past the temple and across the road to the grassy banks of The Kong.

Three of her friends appeared to be waiting outside a restaurant. It was obvious I’d be picking up the check. If I refused to go along with her plan, I’d embarrass Painin and she’d be furious.

One of Painin’s friends—Noi the Freeloader—was slouched in a plastic chair, smiling in the sunshine. The sight of her made me queasy and flyblown.

On this occasion—quite like the first time I’d met her—she failed to acknowledge me. She quickly grabbed Painin by the elbow, turned her back and began devolving her plan.

From the moment I met Noi, I was aware she was young and foolish, but I was forced to tolerate her. The previous time we’d met she rolled up at a restaurant Painin and I were eating at as if it was her right to be there and my sole purpose was to pick up the bill. It made me sad to think Noi was poisoning Painin with her schemes. Every time I looked at her, she sprayed a sickly green film across my skin.

‘You okay, Noi?’ I asked, best I could.

She raised her eyebrows as if to say Fuck off loser—I’m just here for the freebee, ducked her head to avoid a pot plant and catapulted herself inside. Painin’s other friends—two tall, tanned sisters whom I’d never met—appeared friendly. We sat down at a table—Painin and Noi ordering food—and before I knew it, a banquet appeared. As the older sister and I spoke, she gave me the feeling she felt sorry for me, politely refilling my glass while Noi and Painin exchanged glances.

‘I’m going home tomorrow. My father sick. I need you give money.’

I just played along, but what I was really thinking was Come on, Painin… you’re smarter than that.

‘Really… you’re going back to your village? How about I come with you so I can meet your family?’

Noi nearly choked on a piece of pork that was swirling about her mouth and rushed to the toilet. The two sisters looked into their drinks, slightly ashamed. I took Painin by the hand and led her into the sunshine.

What the fuck was I doing? Her shoes were too small and her toes hung out like monkey digits. Her skirt was too tight and when she sat, a few flab rolls appeared. But they weren’t ugly flab rolls and her toes appeared primal and sexual. She’d run a slight wave through her hair and sported a new pair of goofy aviators. No matter how much shite she spun, no matter how many financial demands, I couldn’t help being attracted to her. I kept telling myself she was a good girl at heart and she could change if I got her away from sneaky friends like Noi the Freeloader.

We walked back to the restaurant and said goodbye to Noi and the two tall tanned sisters. Her motorbike was parked next to a security guard and it looked shinier than the last time I’d seen it. We skidded along the gravel, slowly hiccupped through the streets and made our way back to my bungalow.

Painin threw herself on the bed with her knees up and her peach-coloured knickers showing, fanning her legs like the wings of a butterfly.

I kissed a kneecap and stepped into the shower to wash the journey’s sweat from my skin.

When I returned, she had her knickers off and was smiling. I leapt on the bed and began kissing her neck—soft sweet stamens of a spider orchid—then dragged my tongue to the outskirts of her belly and got lost in the trees.

She laid back, smiling—devil in the eyes, lips quivering—and fiddled with her new phone. A song played and it was modern and slick—not exactly romantic—but full of the latest guitar sounds with a heavy bass beat.

I lost consciousness. My spirit hovered. I disappeared inside the vines of a deserted temple and knelt at the dripping feet of an ancient mollusk. I collapsed beside her as orange swamp gas exuded from the pores of my skin.

I was born again: immortal-everything perfect-reality a ghost without a name.

Painin stood, smiled and walked into the bathroom, lathered herself in soap and let the water run hard. I picked up my guitar and a sense of weightlessness radiated throughout my body as I sat naked on the side of the bed with my testicles dangling free. A few minutes passed and Painin was out of the bathroom, putting her clothes on.

‘Okay, you give money now. Two thousand baht.’

‘What are you talking about? Where are you going?’

‘I go work. You want see me again, you give money!’

‘What?’

‘Yes. You give money—NOW!’

‘Look, Painin,’ I said, knowing she wasn’t playing around, ‘I came to Laos because I wanted to be with you as your boyfriend, not your customer!

I already told you I’ll try and help with money, but this is crazy! Why are you doing this? I love you.’

‘You think I like man? I not like any man. Many men want me, but I not care! You give two thousand baht or I break this,’ she said, picking up my guitar tuner and looking at me with sharpened eyes.

‘I can’t! It’s not right.’

Painin gave me one last look of disgust and threw my guitar tuner against the floor. It skidded towards the door and smashed against the wall.

‘You not give money, I tell police! I tell my friend come fight you.’

Tears began to well up as her face flushed. I held her eyes and pleaded with her to calm down.

‘Please, Painin,’ I whimpered. ‘I love you. I want to build a family with you. I want to help, but it can’t be like this…’

‘Don’t say anything.’

She got to her feet and walked out, leaving the door open. My head spun, my heart danced. I sat on the corner of the bed with my head between my hands and stared across the room.

Dumped… first time in seven years.

A strange constrictive pain tore away at my ribs. Tears splashed between my toes, soaking slow into the dirty wooden floor. I kept staring out the window. That’s it… the last time I’ll ever see her. FUCK! How could she dump me?

I decided to get arseholed, pulled out my bag of aunty and fired it up on a freshly punctured can bong. Gorgeous grey smoke raced down my gullet and sat inside my lungs. When I was good and ready, I pushed it out against the closed window and watched it cloud over my pathetic reflection.

The guy behind the reception desk was happy to let me change to another room. I threw my bag inside and walked into the street.