“I need to push you. I can’t push you if I’m not below you.”
“Oh, what a sight you must see. Close your eyes, dear. Save yourself.”
“Just go. Don’t stop.”
Yai stepped higher, aware of Sarai’s laughter. She smiled, pleased that Sarai was happy today, when so much work needed to be done. Her heart thumping faster as she continued up, Yai reached the top of the ladder and moved carefully onto the platform. She was certain that it would crack and groan beneath her, but no such sounds emerged.
“See?” Suchin said, hurrying beside her, crawling on hands and feet like a spider. “I told you everything would be fine. I knew you could do it. Of course you could do it.”
Yai patted Suchin’s knee. “Thank you, child.”
“You’re welcome, adult.”
The pair exchanged smiles as children shouted nearby, chasing a soccer ball, sending it flying in one direction and then another. Suchin knew everyone who played, and cheered on her closest friends, none of whom were the best players. Those children scored and danced, often doing celebratory cartwheels and headstands. Since it was Saturday, several adults participated in the game and were nearly as exuberant as the children.
Yai watched Suchin follow the game, happy that she was so confident and poised. “Did you really believe I could climb up here?” Yai asked, pulling a twig from Suchin’s long hair.
“I climbed beneath you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“So I believed.”
Below, Achara cried. Sarai set a corncob aside and picked up her little girl, whispering. She covered her torso with a small blanket as she began to nurse Achara.
“Don’t be afraid to climb,” Yai said, nodding. “Life is full of trees to climb.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when I was your age, girls couldn’t do much. We didn’t play soccer. We hardly went to school. By the time your mother was born, things had started to change. And one day, when she was older, she asked me if she should open Rainbow Resort with your father. It was their dream.”
Suchin turned from the game. “What did you tell her?”
“You think my memory is so sharp?”
“No. Probably not.”
Yai chuckled, her fingers tracing the contours of Suchin’s face. “I told her that they should build it together. But that she would have to be the engine to make it go.”
“Father does his best.”
“I know, child. I know.”
“Patch has helped him a lot.”
The game ended and children started to head toward the tree house.
“Remember, Suchin. Don’t ever be afraid to climb. One day, when I’m gone, and when a tall tree stands before you, remember how I climbed up this one. If I can climb this one, you can do anything. You can go to a university on the mainland. You can say no to a strong man. You can be who you were meant to be. Not who someone else says you should be.”
Suchin reached for her grandmother’s hand. “But you’ll help me. I know you’ll help me.”
“Of course I will. And so will your mother and father. And even Niran and Achara. But someday . . . someday you’ll have to look up, without fear. And when you’re not afraid, so many beautiful things will happen. Just like they’ve happened for your parents.”
Children started to call out to Suchin. She waved and told them to wait a minute. “You’re a good climber,” she said. “I don’t care if you think your backside is like a water buffalo’s. You’re a good climber, and I’m glad that you came up with me.”
Yai clapped. “You make me so happy.”
“Let’s go.”
“All right. But let me go down first, just in case I’m better at falling than climbing.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I’d just bounce, I suppose. Bounce like that new soccer ball of yours. Just don’t let me roll away too far. Your mother would think that’s much too funny.”
“I won’t.”
“Why don’t you tell me a joke as I go down? To pass the time before my doom. Let me die laughing.”
Suchin pursed her lips, helping Yai grasp the top rung. “What dog keeps the best time?”
Yai’s foot slipped, and she let out a grunt, pulling herself back up. “Hmm . . . that must be a watchdog,” she replied, stepping down once again.
“You always get them!” Suchin said, giggling. “Why do you always get my jokes?”
“Because I’m a jokester. And jokesters get all the jokes.”
“I’ll think of a better one.”
Yai smiled. “Take your time. At the rate I’m going, there’s no need to rush. Just don’t tell any jokes about falling water buffalo. That would strike too close to my heart.”
“Mother is laughing.”
“Drop something on her, will you? Any coconuts up here?”
“No.”
“I’m going to tape her mouth shut.”
“You tried that once. It didn’t work.”
Yai paused, clinging to the ladder. “You’re a beautiful girl, Suchin. Inside and out. How Sarai produced you will always be a mystery to me. A wonder of the world. Right up there with the pyramids. You’re such a beautiful girl and I couldn’t love you more.”
IT HADN’T TAKEN RYAN LONG to get organized. He’d thrown all his possessions into his suitcase, showered, and put on fresh clothes. After hurrying into the restaurant and paying for his lodging, he returned to his room. He had tried to avoid an encounter with Patch or Brooke, but in the end, just as he did a final check of the bungalow, she found him. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and must have been running, because her body was slick with sweat.
“Don’t go,” she said, reaching out to him. “Patch told me what happened. Please let me explain.”
He zipped his suitcase shut. “Don’t pretend that you care.”
“I do care. So does he.”
“Right. Thanks for reminding me.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “Please don’t leave. Not like this. It only happened . . . it only happened because you found someone else. You fell for someone else. And so did I.”
“My brother.”
“So? What’s wrong with that? Wouldn’t you rather have me fall for him than for a stranger?”
“He—”
“It was my fault, Ry. I initiated it. Not him.”
“That’s not what he said.”
“He was protecting me. But I’m telling you, I started it.”
Ryan began to reply but stopped, rubbing his aching hand. “I can’t help him any more. He won’t listen to me. So there’s no reason for me to stay.”
“But the woman. Don’t you—”
“Dao. Her name is Dao.”
“Don’t you have something with her? Something worth pursuing?”
He opened and closed his hand, wishing that it hadn’t formed into a fist. “I have to leave. That’s what I have to pursue. Because . . . because staying here is making me crazy.”
“How? Tell me how.”
“You need it spelled out? Seriously?”
“I—”
“You kissed my brother. He’s a fugitive. And I’m falling for a girl I hardly even know. Maybe that works for you. For Patch. But I can’t stay in his little world. I’m not Peter Pan.”
“I know you’re not. But you were so happy the other night. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. You seemed . . . fulfilled.”
Ryan shook his head. “I have to go. Right now.”
“It’s Christmas. Don’t leave on Christmas. Please. Stay until tomorrow.” She reached for his hand, holding it in hers. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s my fault. It really is. Don’t blame him. He’s a wreck right now. He’s—”
“I do blame him.”
“He loves you so much.”
“The people he loves . . . He puts them through a lot. So be careful.”
“Don’t say that.”
Ryan ben
t down and picked up his suitcase. “Good-bye, Brooke.”
She let go of his hand and watched him step out the door. Her legs felt weak, and she started to sit down, but an idea came to her, and she hurried outside, running now, moving away from Ryan, ignoring the looks of strangers as her feet rose and fell on the warm sand.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, PATCH RAN toward the village. Though the side of his face throbbed, he was barely aware of the pain. Instead he focused on where to find Dao. Brooke had told him her name, saying that only she could stop Ryan from leaving.
Most of the massage parlors were located on the far side of the island, and based on Ryan’s description of the area, Patch felt he was headed in the right direction. He wasn’t used to running and soon became winded, stopping in front of a vendor’s stall. Patch asked the woman if she knew of a Dao who gave massages near the beach. To his delight, she nodded and told him in broken English where he might find her.
The small parlor by the sea was open for business. Patch stepped inside, forcing himself to slow down in case she had a customer. He softly called out her name and, shortly thereafter, a curtain opened on the side of the room. A young woman with long black hair said hello and asked him how he knew her name.
“I’m Ryan’s brother,” he replied, breathing hard.
She looked at him curiously, noting the striking similarities of their faces, as well as the differences between their bodies. “He not here,” she said. “You want massage? I give good one. Best one on Ko Phi Phi.”
“I know he’s not here. He’s headed to the pier. He’s going to leave.”
Her smiled faded and she suddenly looked older. “He leave? Why?”
“Will you do something for me? Please?”
“What?”
“Will you please go to the pier and talk to him?”
She stepped back. “I think you crazy. Why I go find him? I cannot leave job.”
“He told me about you. He was so excited about you.”
“Excited? If he leave, then he not excited. I sure, sure of that.”
Patch closed the door behind him so that another customer wouldn’t appear. “I did something terrible to him. I hurt him. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. But he’s leaving. And I think he should stay.”
“He punch you? That why your face all red and big?”
“Yeah, he punched me.”
To his surprise, she laughed. “Not good to get punched by King Kong. You want a beer?”
“You’re not . . . you’re not following me. I need you to go to him. And tell him something.”
“What? Tell him what?”
“Tell him that . . . that his brother will do what he wants. I’ll turn myself in. Tell him that I’ll turn myself in.”
“I no understand.”
Patch smiled. Now that he’d said those words, now that he’d made a decision, it felt as if a great weight had been taken from his back. “But he will. He’ll understand, Dao. He’ll understand if you say that I’m going to turn myself in. Because I trust him . . . and I love him.”
“What your name?”
“Patch.”
“Batch?”
“No, Patch. Like you . . . you sew a patch on your shirt.”
“I get in trouble if I leave shop.”
“I’ll stay,” he replied, liking her. “I’ll stay and say that you’ll be back soon.”
She scratched her scalp. “Why you come to me?”
“Because he cares about you. He’ll listen to you.”
“He say . . . he care about me?”
“Yesterday. He told me that yesterday.”
“My mother think he want to marry me.”
Patch grinned. “I know.”
“It good dream, for now,” she said, nodding. “A happy dream. Okay, I go get King Kong. Be more careful next time, so he no punch you again.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure, sure.”
He watched her depart, wishing her speed, wanting Ryan to stay for her sake as much as his.
RYAN STARED AT THE DISTANT ferry, his iPod filling him with Bill Withers’s “Ain’t No Sunshine.” The singer’s melancholy voice and words roused a feeling of nostalgia that seemed to seep into Ryan’s every pore. He remembered arriving on Ko Phi Phi in the private speedboat and realized that Brooke had been right. It would have been better to land in the ferry along with everyone else. The speedboat was a luxury in a land that needed none.
He hadn’t ever expected to be alone when he left the island. A profound sense of loss resided within him. Three people he cared about were being left behind, three people who were nearby, at that moment, but would most likely never occupy the same space with him again. In a few hours everything would be different. Cars would honk. People would hurry. He would go back to being himself, to rushing from one destination to the next, from one task to the next.
Worst of all, he had failed. He’d soon have to tell his parents about this failure, about how Patch insisted on trying to escape. Ryan had been so confident of convincing him otherwise, which was one of the reasons that his parents had stayed behind. His mother’s health would have made the voyage hard for her, but his father would have come. Ryan had talked him out of the journey, however, saying that he could best approach Patch alone.
His hand still ached, and he wondered if he might have fractured his pinkie finger, which was red and swollen. Cursing his temper, he unzipped his suitcase and searched for a painkiller. He swallowed two pills without water, then looked at the ferry again, wishing it were only a speck on the horizon.
Ryan didn’t want to leave but felt he had to. He reminded himself of this need time and time again as the ferry approached. Passengers aboard the ship waved to people on the pier. Not as many people waved back, and it was obvious that the spirits of those arriving were higher than those departing.
The ferry docked, and a few minutes later, passengers began to disembark. Ryan glimpsed the father and son from Rainbow Resort as they tried to get the attention of new arrivals. He had started to walk toward them, to thank them for their hospitality, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Dao stood behind him, dressed in her pink shorts and T-shirt, the breeze stirring her hair. “Why King Kong leave so soon?” she asked, scowling. “Why you no get last massage?”
He pulled out his earpieces, surprised to see her. “You . . . found me?”
“Why you go?”
“I have to.”
“I have to breathe. To drink water. I not have to go anywhere. Why you have to go? What so important?”
Ryan moved closer to a railing, so that people could walk past them. “But . . . how did you know I was here?”
“Your brother . . . your crazy brother . . . he find me. He tell me where to find you.”
“He did?”
Her brow furrowed. “Maybe I need to clean out your ears. You not hear so good today.”
“How did he find you?”
“Why you ask me so many questions? I boss here. I ask the questions.”
Her petulance made him smile. “All right, boss. Ask away.”
“Why you leaving so soon?”
“My brother and I . . . we had a fight. I punched him.”
She laughed. “I know. I see his face. It red like a tomato. I tell him it not a good idea to get punched by King Kong.”
“You’re right. Though . . . though I think I broke my finger.”
She reached for his hand and inspected his swollen finger. Supporting it, she moved it back and forth. “This hurt?”
“A little.”
“If it broken, I think it hurt a lot. Come, we go put ice on it. We fix it.”
He didn’t move. “Dao, I have to leave. I’m sorry. I don’t want to . . . but I have to.”
“You make no sense. You been drinking Thai whiskey?”
Ryan glanced around and saw that the pier was almost empty of waiting passengers. “I came here for my brother. To help him. But he doesn’t wa
nt my help. And so I have to go.”
“He tell me something. To tell you.”
“What?”
“I no understand it. He acting so crazy.”
“What are you supposed to tell me?”
“He say . . . he say that he turn himself in. He want you to stay. Because he going to turn himself in. I no understand what he talking about, but he ask me to tell you this. He say he trust you. And he love you.”
“Are you sure?”
Dao frowned, slapping his arm. “Sure, I sure. I no forget such thing.”
A smile spread across Ryan’s face. The heaviness within him disappeared. Impulsively, he reached for Dao with his good hand, squeezing her forearm. “That’s good news. That’s really good news.”
“Why? He now turn himself in instead of turning himself out? You and your brother make no sense to me. You both crazy, I think.”
Ryan glanced at the ferry, no longer worried about its presence. “Thank you, Dao. Thank you for coming here.”
“You are welcome. Now . . . do you stay or do you go?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Good. Because I must get back to shop, before I get into trouble.”
She started to turn away, but he continued to hold her arm. “Where should I stay?” he asked. “I don’t want . . . to be near Patch. Is there a resort on this side of the island that would be good?”
“Sure, sure.”
“Will you show me? When do you get off work?”
“Six o’clock.”
“Will you meet me here? And then you can show me?”
Dao started to speak but stopped, unsure whether she should see him once more outside her massage parlor. He’d been ready to leave, ready to leave without even saying good-bye. And though she liked him and hoped to see him again, she didn’t want to get hurt. “You not nice to me,” she said, shaking her head. “You come to see me. You confuse my mother. And then, next day, you try to leave. That make me look bad. That embarrass me. So why should I help you again? Why should I meet you?”
He saw the hurt in her eyes and released her arm. “I’m sorry. I’ve . . . I’ve thought about you. A lot. But I had to leave.”