Grandad, Thereэ's head on the beach

'I may be young,' I agreed, 'but I'm not stupid. I know why your co-avenger is here. And I need your combined expertise on a much bigger case. I want to know whose head that was on our beach. It's possible he was beheaded by slavers, and they got away with it. They've probably been getting away with it time and time again. I want you to focus your minds on something more important than revenge against a couple of lowlifes. I know you aren't that fond of the Burmese, but they're people. They have rights. And they believe nobody cares about them here in Thailand. That's because nobody does care about them. I don't think that's fair. I want justice for our day laborers. But I tell you what. The rats are connected to all this somehow. And once we've uncovered the kingpins, you can do whatever you like with them. Or perhaps you aren't up for a large-scale operation.'

The two old men were silent for a while. A squall had started to gust the rain off the Gulf. Large drops hit the straw roof over the table and the napkins blew away. Mair and Gaew hurried to clear up the dinner things. Captain Waew smiled at Grandad.

'Mitt,' he said, 'she's a child of your loins right enough.'

'I taught her everything she knows,' said Grandad.

We had the beginnings of a task force and a downpour.

It was Thursday morning and I had to go to market to scrounge for food. The Pak Nam covered market, once the heart of this metropolis, where lovers met and movies were shown on the weekends, was now a huge dilapidated warehouse of a place with a few stallholders hanging on for dear life. There was no logic behind what fruit and vegetables would be available at any given time. Like the deep-sea catch from the night before, the abundant fresh produce was targeted by the gluttons of Bangkok, whisked away in huge refrigerated trucks before our sleepy heads left the pillow. Like temple dogs, we had our choice of what scraps were left. I often returned home with a sprig of what could conceivably have been weeds and a plastic bag full of something local and covered in dirt.

I'd hardly slept the previous night as I wrestled with the ravages of withdrawal. The beer had sedated me till about two when I sat bolt upright in a cold sweat, like they only do in movies. I reached for my antidepressants, but I'd flushed them all down the toilet. I lay back and relied on the strength of my will to get me through the next four hours. I did a lot of thinking but no sleeping at all. I wondered what effect a rubber toilet plunger might have on submerged pills. I wondered whether Ed's friends were drawing lots to see who'd get me first. I'd listened to the rain that clattered down on my concrete roof all the way till dawn.

I drove home through the pouring rain with our humble food supplies and noticed how the little ditch at the back of our place had become a stream. It was quite picturesque. Now I understood why there was a bridge. Until now it had served no purpose. I could imagine a big-eye-contact-lens Japanese bikini girl standing there with an umbrella. We could make it a tourism feature. Tourists loved features. I parked in front of our burned-out shop and marveled at how the village women had rallied around Mair. The ladies of the co-op were mopping frantically and sorting out the salvageable from the hopeless. Despite the steady rain, Captain Kow was sitting on his motorcycle in a flowing purple plastic poncho. He looked like a morning glory. I needed a seafaring man to explain to me the politics of deep-sea fishing. Kow, the squid-boat captain, seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time in front of our shop selling fish-balls from his motorcycle sidecar. I wondered whether 'Captain' was just his first name. I think he was surprised when I walked up to him. If he'd had more teeth, he'd probably have a nice smile. His nose was a little broken, but his eyes were smoky gray, and time and weathering had shaped him a good face.

'Captain Kow,' I said, and saluted as was my witty way.

He saluted back, as was his.

'Nice weather for dolphins,' he said.

For some reason this made me think of all those creatures that have never experienced dryness. Fancy that, being permanently wet. That in turn made me think of whales washed up on beaches, creatures who obviously associated dryness with death. On our beach we had a lot of fish washed up. They all had that 'who put that beach there?' expression. But nobody rushed out with damp blankets and iced water to rescue a mackerel. There were no SAVE THE MACKEREL bumper stickers. My philosophy was that if you were too stupid to realize you were swimming on dry land, it really didn't matter how enormous or endangered you were. Mother Nature has a way of dealing with the dumb. Meanwhile, Captain Kow was yakking on about the weather conditions. Something about rain and two weeks and flash floods. I interrupted him.

'Captain Kow? I was wondering whether I could sit you down sometime and ask you some fishing boat questions.' His gray eyes lit up. 'It would be an honor,' he said. I booked him for ten o'clock in my room.

I was offloading my fruit and vegetables when I felt a presence behind me. I turned to see Noy under a green umbrella. She looked pummeled, all puffy and red-eyed. I loved to see beautiful women in those paparazzi photos taken at the supermarket when they looked just like you and me. Noy was the type who should really stay away from Leo beer. 'Pee Jim,' she said.

Pee. Older sister. Good. Respect. I liked it.

'Yes?'

There was probably more to that sentence, so I waited.

'I wanted to ask you…about last night.'

'Yes?'

'I. . . my mother said I was talking to you…a lot.'

'You don't remember?'

'I drank a lot of beer. I'm not used to it.'

'I could tell.'

'Did I…did I say anything?'

Now perhaps you can see why I was one of the country's top crime reporters. My chance had arrived. 'You told me a lot,' I said. 'About?'

I was getting wet. I took her arm and led her to the plastic awning.

'About everything,' I said.

'No.' The muscles of her face tensed. 'I…I wouldn't have.'

'Georgetown. Science. The exam.'

She was a white girl. The type of girl sheltered from the harmful rays of the sun from birth. Coated in creams. Barred from garden games. But I swear that white girl dropped through three more shades of white right there in front of me.

'It's not possible,' she said.

'Then I must be psychic. Listen, you told me. It doesn't matter. You've landed in the safest place in the country. We all like you and your mother. We want to help. You can stay here as long as you like. What happened in America doesn't bother us. Everything's fixable.'

'You don't understand.'

It was true. I didn't. I knew the what but not the why. But I wasn't about to tell her that.

'I think it's quite evident,' I said.

'No, Jimm. This is serious. This isn't a sinking latrine. These are dangerous people. If they found out you were helping us, they could…delete all of you. There'd be no evidence that you ever existed.'

I felt a tingle of excitement. I wasn't sure that I had existed for the past year, but this was incredibly dramatic. I took her shaking hand in mine. She was truly terrified.

'Pbook,' I said.

'I told you my name?'

'Just that. No surname. No connections to your real life. Your family's identity is still protected. And only I know the truth. I haven't told anybody else. It's just me and you against…them. And I'm a great ally to have.'

All she knew about me was that I was a cook in a beaten-up resort at Earth's end. But she was desperate for a friend. She fell against me and took me in her arms and sobbed into my shoulder. In my current condition, even that was a little exciting. But the longer we stood there, the more her anguish seeped into me like a computer virus. It was overwhelming. What could possibly have happened to this poor little bird?

'I like to see girls bonding' came a voice.

I looked up and there was skinny Bigman Beung leaning against a coconut tree with his arms folded. His uniform was drenched. It was some type of archaic police suit. Noy stepped back and wiped her tears with her hands.

'What do you want?' I asked.