Drinking with the Enemy

"Take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves."

-Dorothy Parker

The accommodations are opulent, outdoor luxury; camping for the modern pampered princess set. Among other small luxuries the tent has hardwood floors, a giant, four poster, feather bed veiled in mosquito netting and an outdoor bamboo shower. When I ask how much it usually costs to stay here for a night, Lahk is demur but later on in the evening he tells me around 12,000 baht (about $400 CDN).

"Come," he says, "I have fire going."

"Yeah, I'll join you in a second. I just need to use the bathroom." I pick up my dry sack, open the back door of the tent and cross the bridge to the washroom. When I'm safely locked in the toilet I open my bag and pull out the Big Knife, tucking it into the sarong and under my shirt. On my way back I stop behind the bed, drop my bag and slip the knife under the mattress on the left side, nearest the exits.

When I've limped my way to the fire Lahk hands me another full drink.

"I have never met a woman like you," he says, shaking his head.

"Thank god for that," I answer, lifting my glass for a sip, "I don't think this world could handle two of me."

Despite the many ways Lahk makes me on edgy, he has an obvious appreciation for my self-deprecating humour, which I've rarely found in my life and I don't think I've ever found in someone whose mother tongue isn't English. After he laughs and asks me what I mean by that, I keep him in stitches regaling him with tales of my hapless adventures from the border guard in his underwear crossing into Nepal to the machete fight in Nicaragua. Unfortunately I seem to be too entertaining and he forgets to drink.

 

"You are such an adventurer," he sighs.

"Want another one?" I ask, pointing to his empty glass.

"Let's go lie down in the tent," he answers, placing his head in my lap. I pat him on the head and say, "I don't think my boyfriend would like that."

"You have a boyfriend?!?!" He says, sitting up with a start. "Where is he? Why he not with you?!?"

"He had to work," I shrug. Poor imaginary husband. If he's not sick in the hotel room or at home, he's working. And sometimes I even forget that we're married. Lahk, however, doesn't seem to be buying it.

"No, this is not true. No man would leave woman like you alone."

 

Poor imaginary husband also gets accused, often, of not being a very good man, letting me loose all alone in the world.

"Oh, he is a good man, a very, very good man" I reply in his defense. "Perfect for me, in fact." And he is. He doesn't complain if I forget to mention him entirely when I decide it's convenient, we never argue about where to go or what to do when we get there and, best of all, he flies for free.

Lahk begins the requisite interrogation but he quickly loses steam and finally passes out. I gimp my way back to the tent and crawl into the divine embraces of the fluffy, feathered bed. A tropical breeze drifts through the screened tent walls and I am lulled into a tentative sleep by the sound of the sea slapping the shore. 

I have just climbed onto the shoulders of a pacing albino tiger, about to finally go home, when the sound of the metal teeth of tent zipper being wrenched apart drags me back to the jungle. I don't move, and I consciously slow my breath, but I ready myself for a struggle. The footsteps stop on the other side of the bed and I see the mosquito netting twitch as Lahk climbs into bed. I feel the mattress sink under his added weight but still I don't move. I wait and when his arm reaches across and a hand lands on my waist I spring to action.

I am lying on my right side so I do a left oblique sit up and, in a single motion, land my left elbow under his chin. I throw back the netting and leap out of bed.

 

"Geezus! You scared the sh*t out of me! What are you doing?!" Having dealt a warning blow, I feel the need now, stranded alone in this resort with Mr. Helps Himself to try and make diplomatic amends or risk having to resort, eventually, to the Big Knife.

"Ohhh," he whines, "it's just so cold outside."

This sounds utterly ridiculous by my Canadian standards and I try not to snort my disdain. "Oh," I mumble instead, trying to sound sleepy, "okay, I'll go sleep outside." I move towards the door but as I bend to unzip the tent he grabs me, pinning my arms to my sides as he locks his own around me from behind.

"Let go of me!" I scream. "I love my boyfriend and he will come find you if he hears you touched me!"

 

"Okay, okay," he says letting go. "But stay here. Just stay. We just sleep."

"Bullshit. You can sleep here, I'll sleep outside."

"NO!" He yells after me, but I've already limped halfway back to the fire. He follows me outside saying angrily, "Fine, I will sleep out here too."

I turn and face him. "No. One of us is sleeping in that bed. If you don't want to I will, but I'm not sleeping with you. So you choose. Where do you want to sleep?"

He argues for a while before finally, pouting, says he'll sleep outside. I go back to the bed but can't fall back asleep. Lahk does come back inside but this time he goes to sleep on the futon across the room.