miss at first glance. I waited to see him blink. He didn’t, or didn’t seem to, so I waited to see him breathe. He didn’t do that either. Then I bent down and touched his chest. He was warm enough, but the air was pretty warm too so that didn’t mean anything. I pressed my hand down harder. My fingers sank deeply between his ribs and the skin moved slackly against the bone. No pulse. I started counting, carefully marking the seconds with elephants, and by the time I reached sixty I knew he was dead.
I frowned and looked around me. Apart from the silhouette of Jed and the rice sacks, the beach was completely deserted. Then I looked back at the girl. I knew she was alive because of the mosquitoes, and anyway, her chest was rising and falling.
This unsettled me. I wasn’t bothered about the guy because he’d come to Thailand and messed up, so that was his look-out. But the girl was another matter entirely. As soon as her opiate slumber wore off she’d wake up to an empty beach and a corpse. I thought that would be a terrible thing to happen and, seeing as I’d been the one to find her, I felt I had some responsibility for her well-being. I lit up a cigarette and wondered how I might help.
Waking the girl up was out of the question. Even if I managed to bring her round, she’d only freak out. Then the authorities on Ko Pha-Ngan would get involved and it would be a disaster. Another option was to wake Jed up and ask his advice, but I decided against it. I knew what he’d say. He’d say it was none of our business and we should leave the couple as we found them, and I already knew I didn’t want to do that.
Eventually I hit on a good idea. I would drag the guy’s body away to the bushes and hide it. Then, when she woke up, she’d just think he’d gone for a walk. After a day or so she’d realize he was missing and might worry about what had happened to him, but at least she wouldn’t know he was dead. By that time he would probably have been eaten by ants and beetles, and no one but me would be any the wiser.
I busied myself with the task at hand, keeping half an eye on my watch. Jed would be awake soon and then it would be time to leave.
¦
‘Jed!’ I said softly.
He stirred and waved a hand over his face, like he was brushing away a fly.
‘Jed! Wake up!’
‘What?’ he mumbled.
‘We should go. It’s getting light.’
He sat up and looked up at the sky. The sun was fully above the horizon. ‘Shit, yeah, we should. Overslept. Sorry. Let’s get cracking.’
When we were halfway between Ko Pha-Ngan and our island I told him what had happened with the corpse and how I’d dealt with it.
‘Jesus fucking Christ, Richard!’ he’d shouted – only because the engine was so loud. ‘What the flying fuck did you do that for?’
‘Well, what should I have done?’
‘You should have left him there, you bloody idiot! What did it have to do with us? Nothing!’
‘I knew you’d say that,’ I said happily. ‘I knew it.’
? The Beach ?
Prisoners of the Sun
? The Beach ?
45
Bible-Bashing
No one was even slightly interested. A few asked ‘How was it?’ out of politeness, but as soon as I began to answer their eyes glazed over or their attention became diverted by something over my shoulder.
At first I found this attitude pretty frustrating – I wanted to talk at length about how fucked up Ko Pha-Ngan was – and the frustration was compounded by the unenthusiastic response I got when I handed out my little presents. Francoise took one taste of the toothpaste and spat it out, saying, ‘Ugh, I did not remember the way it burns,’ and Keaty said I shouldn’t have bought Thai-brand batteries because they run out so fast. The only person who seemed at all grateful was Unhygienix. He went straight off for a shower after I gave him the bars, and later he gave me a glowing report on the thick lather they produced.
But my frustration only lasted while Ko Pha-Ngan was fresh in my mind, which wasn’t long. Just as when I’d first arrived at the beach, my memory began to shut itself down. Steadily, quickly, so that within a week nothing much existed beyond the lagoon and its circle of protective cliffs. Nothing except the World, that is, and that had returned to its previous condition, a name to something faceless and indistinct.
My worries about Zeph and Sammy were the last things to go. As late as the fifth night I was kept awake, fretting about what plans they and the mysterious Germans might be making. But it became hard to maintain that level of worry as the days passed, and still no one had turned up. Having said that, the day after the fretful fifth night I did ask Jed whether he’d also been thinking about the Zeph and Sammy problem, and he made a see-saw motion with his hands. ‘I’ve been thinking about it a little,’ he said. ‘But I think we’re OK.’
‘You do?’ I replied, already sensing the weight of the problem lifting.
‘Yeah. Those two were on the pilgrim’s route. They had guidebook written all over them. If not, like I already said, we’ll deal with it when it happens.’ He pulled a knot of hair out of his beard. ‘You know, Richard, one of these days I’m going to find one of those Lonely Planet writers and I’m going to ask him, what’s so fucking lonely about the Khao San Road?’
I smiled. ‘Just before you punch his lights out, right?’
The smile was not returned.
? The Beach ?
46
Jaws One
A few weeks after the Rice Run I woke up to the noise of rain on the longhouse roof. It had rained only three or four times since I’d arrived at the beach, and those had been no more than showers. This was a tropical storm, even heavier than the one on Ko Samui.
A few of us huddled around the longhouse entrance, looking out across the clearing. The canopy ceiling was channelling the water into thick streams that shone like lasers and cut muddy holes into the earth. Keaty was standing under one of them, his top half obscured by the silver umbrella that exploded off his head. I only recognized him from his black legs and the faint sound of his laughter. Bugs was also standing outside. He had his head tilted so that one cheek was angled upwards, his arms were held slightly away from his body, and his palms were ready to catch the rain.
‘Thinks he’s Christ,’ muttered a voice behind me. I turned around and saw Jesse, a compact New Zealander who worked on the garden detail with Keaty. Jesse was one of the people I’d never had much cause to speak to, but I’d always suspected that he’d been the one to pick up my first John-Boy cue.
I looked back at Bugs and smiled; there
‘Know what I mean?’ Jesse said.
I smiled.
‘Maybe the carpentry’s gone to his head,’ said Cassie, who was also standing near, and we all chuckled. I would have added something but Jesse nudged me. Sal had emerged from the far end of the longhouse and was walking towards us. Gregorio was beside her, looking a little hassled.
‘What’s the delay?’ asked Sal, as she approached.
