My Ride, I Love You Read online

  I sat in silence. What he said sounded fine, but…

  “What will you do when you get back home, huh?” Ar asked this time.

  “I dunno yet. Maybe I’ll become a merchant. I have some savings.”

  “Have you ever considered furthering your education?”

  “I quit since I moved to Bangkok. It’s been four years. If I go back to studying, I’ll have to sit among the younger crowd.”

  “I didn’t ask how long you’ve abandoned your education or how you would feel about sharing the classroom with younger people. I want to know if you’ve ever considered the possibilities. Do you want to go back to college?”

  I stayed quiet… Oh, right, yah.

  For the past four years, I had been thinking only about Fern and me.

  I had never thought about myself. Not even once.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. I can’t think straight. My head feels cloudy.”

  I took another swig of my beer.

  “If you can’t think straight, don’t make any decision yet.”

  Ar gave me a heavy pat on a shoulder.

  “Go take a wash. Or do you want to eat something else? Should I reheat some sweet spice stew?”

  I shook my head. The canned sardines yum I had before, in combination with the warmth I felt in my heart when I told them my story, made me feel full and leaden enough.

  I got up and left the balcony to undress and prepare to wash, wrapping a Thai loincloth[13] around my waist and throwing a small towel over one of my shoulders. During the process, I walked past a desk in my bedroom. A picture frame with a photo of Fern and me was on its top.

  I put it face down on the desk.

  I should find a new photo to replace it.

  Maybe a photo I took with mom…or with Loong and Ar.

  I wasn’t sure if it was because I was full, or because I was tipsy from the beer, or because it rained and the weather was quite cool, but I slept like a log that night. Totally unlike a broken heart man.

  I woke up again in the morning when my alarm rang after its third snooze. I slept in and started to panic. I washed in a hurry, threw on my clothes and helmet, then left home for work on my motorcycle. Luckily, I wasn’t late. I arrived just in time to check in with the boss.

  After dropping off about ten passengers in the morning, I suddenly realized that I came to work purely out of habit. Last night I was still unsure with my life, debating between going back home to Chumphon and staying here in Bangkok. It turned out my habit had already made the decision for me in the morning...oh, wait, late morning, to be exact.

  “Hey lad, I wanna go to XX office building.”

  A new passenger approached me.

  “Twenty baht, sir.”

  I named the price, and he nodded.

  I looked at my own reflection in a side mirror while I started my engine.

  It’s not like I smiled at myself, I think. But I could feel an upward tug at a corner of my mouth.

  Hello, new me.

  And new resolutions, in the same old metropolis.

  Then, I headed off to send my passenger to his destination.

  It’s been over a year since that specific morning. I pulled through a painful time feeling none the worse for wear. I survived. I heard that Fern got pregnant with that guy but they didn’t marry. I don’t even know what she did with the baby, whether she kept the child or aborted. I am not one to look back once I left. Not that I don’t miss her or that I am heartless, but it feels like if I still hang around in her life, it won’t be good for anyone, me, her, or the person she chose.

  We mind our own business, each of us. Kind of like that.

  I have a job which earns me a living.

  I have a good family. And I am satisfied with myself.

  As for a new lover, I haven’t thought about it yet.

  “Um… I wanna go to Baan Klang Soi Condo, please.”

  While my thoughts are wandering up and down the memory lanes, a tiny voice from this passenger pulls me back to the reality I’m facing.

  “Uh… Thirty baht, sir.”

  I automatically reply and he nods.

  “Hey, can I have a helmet, please?”

  He points at the extra safety helmet I keep for my passenger.

  “......” I stare silently.

  “Can I use that helmet? … Or can’t I?”

  He knits his brows questioningly. I smile and shake my head while handing it to him.

  “Oh, sure. You can use it. It’s meant for my passenger. I was just surprised.”

  He takes the helmet, buckles it, and adjusts the strap’s tightness. Oh, wow… Many passengers have agreed to wear my helmet, but I haven’t seen anyone who puts it on so carefully and methodically like this man.

  “Why are you surprised?” He asks.

  “Because the passenger doesn’t usually ask for a helmet. Most of the time I have to beg and pressure them into wearing it.”

  “Oh? Why… It’s my own safety, I must. And I’m scared. Especially because I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.”

  I am about to step on the pedal to start my engine when I hear his “never ridden on a motorcycle” and it makes me stop my foot in midair. I turn around to take another look at this passenger.

  “Mister, did you say you’ve never ridden a motorcycle before?”

  He nods in reply. Oh, shooot! Am I about to pop his motorcycle cherry?

  “So I’m your first motorcycle taxi driver, ever?”

  He nods again.

  “Let me rephrase, is this your first time being a passenger on a motorcycle?”

  He nods yet again, causing the helmet on his head to seem a little wobbly and I had to suppress a giggle.

  “Okay. How about this?” I push down the side stand and let my motorcycle park. “I’ll explain things to you first, so you won’t be as scared. Is that good?”

  He bobs his head and the helmet wobbles again. This time it’s even funnier than before, I am so close to having to pinch myself to stifle my laugh.

  “Here, these are the footpegs. When you’re riding, rest a foot on each of these. Got it?” I point at the passenger's footpegs. He looks down at them and nods.

  “And here,” I point at the rear grab bar, “is a handle for a backseat passenger, hold onto it to secure yourself.”

  He nods. “What about my other hand?”

  “Uh… What?” I am confused. What other hand? And what about it?

  “Well, one hand on the handle, then what to do with my other hand? Where do I put it? What do I hold onto?” He asks in earnest. Ohhh, shoot! Are you kidding me? What have I ever done to deserve this passenger?

  “The other hand… Maybe you can rest it over your thigh.”

  I give him a random answer. Who the heck knows where to put that hand? It’s your own hand, decide for yourself, dude.

  “But that’s defying the laws of physics. How can I keep my balance like that?”

  He argues, frowning at me. What is this bullshit about physics… I don’t get it, so I frown back at him as a reply.

  “Oh, if I sit there, when you use the brakes, I’ll be thrown forwards and I can grip and pull the rear handle to keep my body balance, right? But when you take off or accelerate, I’ll be thrown backwards instead. The hand behind me won’t help anymore. My other hand needs to hold onto something in the front so I can keep myself from falling backwards.”

  The passenger elaborates in so much detail. I don’t quite follow him since the “thrown forwards.” So let’s not even mention thrown backwards. I am completely lost. Screw physics! My vocational program didn’t include that subject.

  “So, did you mean you want something in the front to hold onto?”

  I try to summarize the key point. Fortunately, I did hear the last part of his speech.

  He nods.

  “Can I hold onto your waist?”

  “My waist? Definitely not, I’m ticklish. If you hold onto my waist, you won’t fall backwards, but the w
hole motorcycle and everyone will tumble over since the start. I’m freaking ticklish!” Heck, no. I can’t let him hold onto my waist. I’ve never allowed even those pretty female passengers, or my ex-girlfriend, to do that. I am seriously ticklish.

  He scowls. His already knitted brows furrow even deeper. Oh wow, incredible. I’ve never known that a person could furrow their eyebrows this much.

  “Um… Let’s see. How about you grab on my shoulder?”

  I try to negotiate but his brows are still knitted.

  “It’s not secure enough, I think.”

  He comments. I start counting from one to ten. Easy, Mork, this is your passenger.

  “Ah, try this, then. Hop on now.”

  I get back to my motorcycle and mount it, pushing the side stand into its up position. He climbs slowly onto the seat. I grab his right hand with my right hand, guiding his arm through to the front against my side, right below the armpit, and lock his hand on my shoulder.

  “Is this good enough? This pose is sturdy and secure, I promise.”

  I tilt my head to ask while suppressing any hint of sarcasm that might leak into my tone… And drat, it’s really difficult.

  “But now if I fall backwards, you will fall backwards with me, according to the laws of physics.”

  He still manages to fuss. Screw the rules of physics already! If he poses more questions, I’ll start calling him a Curious George. What a fussy guy! It’s just riding a motorcycle, yet his endless questioning is making me feel like we’re reciting the whole ordination chanting. Grrrr!

  “Come on, trust me. I’m strong enough to keep you from falling. Once you’re on my motorcycle, your safety is my responsibility. Just trust me.” I start the engine and prepare to take the passenger to his destination. I should hurry up and get it over with already. Get away from this physics freak.

  Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him before.

  So, hopefully I will encounter him only this once.

  Oh...I should double-check, so that I can avoid him in case we are bound to meet again.

  “Anyway, have you just moved into Baan Klang Soi Condo, mister?”

  I ask him before starting to drive.

  “Why are you asking?”

  Are you kidding me? Grrrr! Why is he answering my question with a question?

  “Because I’ve been driving here for several years and met many passengers who went to that condo, but you’re a new face, so you must have moved in only recently.”

  “Oh, hahaha! I didn’t move in. I’m just visiting my date who lives here.”

  “Oh...I see. Okay, hold on tight. Off we go.”

  Seeing his girlfriend, I get it now. Hah! At this rate they will break up soon. He’s a finicky one. No girl can tolerate such a fussy guy. And this is speaking from my own experience.

  “Go slowly, please. I don’t wanna fall off.”

  “Yes, sirrrrrrr.”

  When I park in front of the condominium, his hand is still clinging to my shoulder. He waits until I shut the engine before letting go and climbing slowly off the backseat. Then, he takes off the helmet and hands it back.

  “Thirty baht, please.” I take the helmet from him.

  “Thanks.” He gives me a twenty-baht bill and a ten-baht coin.

  “Thank you, mister.” I start my engine again and prepare to leave, and that’s when I happen to overhear a conversation behind me.

  “Tawan, you took so long I thought you were lost.”

  “Aww, darling, it’s impossible to lose my way around here.”

  Though I don’t mean to be nosy, my head turns automatically. The person who was waiting for that passenger in front of the condo...is a guy.

  Like, whoa! … His date is a man.

  Chapter 3: Tawan

  I yawn…

  Actually, I yawn every morning. No matter how long, how short, and how efficient our sleep is, we still yawn every morning. I learned about the yawning mechanism during my second year at the university, and have already forgotten why we yawn.

  For me, this simply means my body clock is telling me it is time to get a coffee.

  As my first morning routine at work, I pass the elevator lobby and then the cafeteria, heading to the one and sole coffee shop in our hospital.

  This early in the morning, we usually don’t see patients or strangers in the shop. There is only a mixed crowd of resident doctors from different years, each wearing a short doctor gown. The coffee shop is almost like an altar which all doctors must visit on a homage everyday before going about their daily work routine. We worship the sacred coffee, the caffeine divinity that blesses us with life energy to survive the day and the work.

  “Where’ve you been last night, Tawan! Why weren’t you in the dorm?”

  Nadia’s screech gives me a jump when he asks from right beside me. So early in the morning and without coffee in my system, my conscious is still floating somewhere out there as if my soul hasn’t fully come back into my body, and it makes me easily startled. I slowly turn to him, plastering on a smile.

  “Uh… Why do you ask?”

  “Look, last night I went to your room but you wouldn’t answer the door. It was only eight but the lights were off, so I thought maybe you weren’t in.”

  “Oh, did you want to see me? You need something? If you wanna talk now, I’m free. I don’t need to rush to my ward this morning.”

  Wishfully, he won’t realize I am avoiding his previous question.

  “Don’t try to change the subject. Where were you last night?”

  My wish has been denied. Nadia still presses for an answer, seemingly even more concerned about this topic than anything he was originally visiting me for last night.

  Oh well, sooner or later he will figure it out anyway, as Nadia is my all-time number one best friend. It is but a matter of time. Might as well just tell him now.

  “P'Por’s condo.”

  I whisper from between my teeth, keeping the volume down and only audible for the two of us.

  “What did you say? I couldn’t hear it.”

  Apparently, it wasn’t loud enough. Nadia frowns, leaning in with an ear.

  “I. Went. To. Stay. At. P'. Por’s. Condo.”

  I answer even more quietly this time, but directly into his ear.

  Although the coffee shop is crowded, no one pays attention to other people’s conversation. They are either engaged in their own conversations with each other or on the phone with a nurse in the ward. And those who aren’t talking are concentrating on their phone screens.

  There is almost no need for me to whisper to Nadia.

  But, I don’t know, maybe I am scared of being overheard or found out about the thing between my dear Por and me. There might be a reason, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

  “Oho! And have you done it? Oops, sorry, I forgot.”

  “Heh, it’s cool. I don’t mind you asking.”

  I pat my best friend on the shoulder.

  “Nay, I mean I forgot I shouldn’t have asked because there could have been only one answer. Surely you’ve done it, impossible not to. You went all the way to his room, duh!”

  He doesn’t only speak, but also pinches me on my upper arm so painfully it interrupts my yawn. I am now fully awake without needing any coffee.

  “Ouch, that hurts!” I swat Nadia’s hand off from me. He might have pinched me with a ladylike demeanor, but his strength is still of a big, grown man. I caress the spot on my arm, wondering if it will become a bruise.

  “Anywayyy… Was it good?” Before, Nadia had some sleepiness in his voice, but once I told him I went to P'Por’s condo, the sleepiness is suddenly and magically gone. Now he sounds entirely full of curiosity.

  I say nothing, pretending not to hear the question, and proceed to ordering my coffee.

  “Hot Americano, please. No sugar.” I give the shopkeeper exact change and leave the cashier without taking the bill he is handing to me. So Nadia has to order his coffee in a hurry before fo
llowing me to the end of the counter bar, where we wait to pick up our coffee.

  “Are you not going to answer me?” Nadia presses on.

  I shrug, still not yielding to his curiosity.

  But that can’t stop him for long. He grabs my collar and yanks it down, revealing purplish bruises on the nape of my neck, two sizable marks which I didn’t expect to be this obvious and telling.

  “Aha! See, I knew there’d be a mark! Tawan, you bitchhhhh! You landed yourself a hubby.”

  I swear, though Nadia is my best friend, right at this moment I really am irked to stuff him into the wet garbage bin at the end of the bar.

  “Shhh! Don’t be so loud. People will hear you.”

  “Dawwww! Who on earth is going to hear? Look around you, they’re all zombies without coffee. Nobody cares about what we say. Well, let me just ask, do you see anyone who’s fully awake in here?”

  I turn and look around. Yes… Nadia is right. Like I said, this early in the morning, only resident doctors come to the coffee shop, and none is awake. It really seems no one is aware of our conversation.