Something Goes Bump in the Night...

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The day starts with our own trading, we have Baht, they have a freshness from their homes and their aching hands and their fruitfull land. The exchange is brief, but worthy to both. My sensory is on overload with the sights and smells that are not from home. I doubt they are re-telling the stories though, maybe an exchange of chuckles with the vendor a few stalls over. A dip in the Sea, a fresh lunch, plenty of pages read from an American novelist, another trip to the market for the catch of the day from the fisherman and his son, and the morning glory stalks his daughter grew from seed only to be scorched in a pan of delicate sesame oil as night falls. To be cherished on a deck adorned with again, hand made teak furniture that surely tired limbs of an old Thai man who labors over the details.

Overlooking the fronds of tall Coconuts relished in evening sun, darkening with the passing minutes. It's a three story house only a year old, not enough souls have passed thru to give the normal creeks in the floorboards but the echoes are endless. The landscape is out of place, it's shudders from western influence. It is on a coconut plantation high up on a mountain in Ban Taling Ngam, the southwest corner of an island that is experiencing growing pains. The closest neighbor is more than a kilometer away. For an island that is only 8 km at it's widest berth, this is a vast distance between hushed whispers and clanking dinner pans. He owns the land, sold one rai at a time to survive, they are from here, the south of Thailand. They harvest, they burn, they plant, they harvest again. There are no smiles from his family as we pass them daily in this land of smiles. Life has been hard on them, not only them, but our eyes see only them, today. They have donkeys, and horses, and oxen, and monkeys, and I'm sure they trade for chicken and rice and vegetables to sustain this family year long. At night, with the crickets and cicadas, we hear the long calls of their stock, almost a murmur in our sleep that has become familiar. A ferral dog howls, a rooster crows, tides turn, the sun sets. This is our life. I am comfortable here, we've become immune to the stories from home.

I descend the long hollow steps, each movement outlined by my toes touching cold concrete. The geckos scurry, scared and rushed as I blow out the candles on the way down, the spiders, the mosquitoes, and the scorpians run to the dark corners of the stair well protected by the shadows. Alone, I take broad, confident steps that I have grown to memorize that lead to my deep slumber. Only wishing upon stars and good will of what my unconscious will bring in the deep state of relaxation that eludes to the waking dawn of this island's morning. I smell smoke. It's a startling smoke of pollution, not land burning familiar smoke. I stop. I am frozen. I cannot call to Shaun, I cannot move. This is a smell I know to be foreign here. This is an intruder's smoke. Did he hear us? We were just joking upstairs, without a worry or a care in the world, laughing, playfully doing our dance. Nothing in our minds to worry us, we were free from any burden. Did he know that? Everything had been exactly the same as the night before. Did he watch us? Why was he so bold to feign his smell? For he was careful, I did not hear anything from above. However, at that moment, I knew I should be afraid. I'm still paralyzed, my mind racing, what can I do? I tip toe back up stairs and find Shaun as I left him. Deep intranced in his novel. I start motioning with my arms, and my eyes are frantic and whispering that someone is here and oh my god, someone's here. Shaun gives me a quick look of disbelief and when I again plead with my eyes and body that oh my god someone is really here, he swiftly and quietly moves down the steps and out the open door to the front of the house. Oh my god, we forgot to shut any doors, but we hadn't shut any doors so far and everything had been fine and oh my god, he knew that, he watched us and he came and he waited and now he's here and now instead of us being in control of this place we had considered home, we were now at the mercy of the smokes' movements and motives.

As I peer around the corner to watch Shaun go to the front of the house and see him turn the corner, my eyes dart towards the interior back door. It's open, just slightly, the light is on outside and I can smell him. How did we leave this door open as well? We never close it, did he know that? Had he known he would be safe in these depths? I see a shadow grace my line of vision with terror. It was too quick to be Shaun on this side of the house and I was still too scared to call for him towards the front. I start taking steps backwards towards my own corners of darkness where maybe I can stay safe. Then I see him. An actual person, not some faint illusion of my stupor, and no longer just a smell. He waltzes in with his own barefoot stride from one side of the hallway to the other. Oh my god, oh my god, where is Shaun, it's just about enough time for him to be rounding the house and coming upon the smoke, is that why he dipped into the house? For the intruder was seeking solice in my quiet safe corner? Did he also see me slip into this hollow? He surely knows there is two of us here, and if he just saw Shaun outside, then he is keenly aware that I am only feet from his smell and that something has got to happen. The possibility of sneaking away without detection is zero. I am still stunned in darkness, trying to slow my breathing, wracking my memory for any weapon of defense in my bedroom, when Shaun breezes around the corner and inside the door, completely unarmed and is now face to face with the smoke. Neither one flinches or says anything for another stand still moment while I am tucked away watching and wincing in my own hideout, as time stands still I was now faced with not my past flashing before my eyes, but for the first time, truly for the first time in my life I was unsure of my future. For as long as eternity it took to arrive, quickly as a flash of heat lightning in the sky, he was gone. The smoke vanished and he was gone. His name is Goi, he has been here every night dusk till dawn, he is our security guard.

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