After the older Thai man and Surat were gone, Mike forced himself to stand. He hadn't been so sure of death since that night in Vietnam. The pain returned to his chest and his legs felt like he had just run a four minute mile. He barely noticed when Itta and Nuang came to his side.
"Are you okay?" one of the women said.
He stared dumbly. He recognized their faces but their names wouldn't come. At that moment he wasn't even sure of his own name. He was surprised at the strength of his fear. "Yes," he finally managed, "I'm okay." He leaned forward, put his hands to his knees, and breathed as deep as his ribs let him. "He was going to kill me. It doesn't make sense."
"He is angry," said Itta.
"Why? I've never done anything to him."
"You got my sister pregnant."
You got my sister pregnant, her words repeated in his head. How could she know? Math said she had never told anyone. "I thought only Math and I knew. I thought it was our secret. She miscarried. I guess you know that, too."
His confession caught her off guard. Itta didn't know about Math's pregnancy and miscarriage. After a slight pause she said, "I have two sisters."
A year-old scene invaded his head—an image of him and Nuang naked beside each other in bed. He knew that the sister Itta meant was probably Nuang. Why else would Nuang’s husband want to kill him? A lump settled in his chest. "What do you mean?"
Itta was opening her mouth to speak when Nuang took her by the arm and pulled her aside.
"He's not the farang who got me pregnant," she whispered.
Itta stared. "What are you saying?"
Nuang lowered her eyes. "He is not the one. I would rather not talk about it."
A million thoughts flashed through Itta's mind but only one came to the surface. If this wasn't the man, then Nuang had had sex with another farang. She had already admitted her baby was half farang. "Then who?"
"I don't know," Nuang lied. Mike Johnson was the man who had fathered her baby, but she didn't love him and there was nothing to gain by telling anyone that she had used him for her own selfish pleasure. There was no point in making things worse. "I may never know," she continued. "Tell him I told everyone about Math's pregnancy. Tell him thank you again for the beautiful ceremony he had for Math and that I still remember every minute of that day."
Itta stared at her sister hoping to make eye contact, but Nuang kept her head down. After a second she turned back to Mike, "Nuang told our family about Math losing her baby. She wants to say thank you for the ceremony you had for our sister. She also said that she remembers every minute of that day. I guess you do, too."
"I hardly remember it at all," he stammered. "It was a long time ago."
"Yes, it has been just over a year."
Silent embarrassment permeated the night. They both knew the truth.
"I have to go now," Mike finally said. "I'm not feeling well." He put his hand to his ribs for emphasis.
"I still want to talk with you," Itta said. "There are things you need to know, and much I want to know—about Math, that is. Can we talk?"
Images of Surat and the pistol filled his head. "I'm not sure it's safe for me to talk to anyone in your family."
"Please, I promise you will be safe. I must stay with Nuang and her baby for a while, but I want to talk to you later. Where can we meet?"
Mike knew he should tell her no, but he didn't. Despite everything that had happened he said, "It's the same as before. I'm going back to my hotel and have a few beers. You know how to find me."
Itta and Nuang went back inside the emergency room waiting area. Somjit was nowhere in sight. Nuang walked to the registration desk. "Is my baby okay?"
The nurse looked up. "I thought that other woman was the mother."
"She is my baby's nurse mother. Her name is Somjit, we are best friends. Is she okay? And my baby; is my baby okay, too?"
The nurse nodded, "They are treating your friend for shock. The doctors said your baby will be fine. Some cuts and scrapes and a dislocated shoulder, but nothing serious. I think she'll be discharged tonight. She's in examination room B."
Nuang took Itta by the hand. "Let's go."
"Wait," the nurse stopped them. "It's after hours. We have rules."
"But I want to see my baby." Nuang said.
"I understand and you can see your daughter. But the rules say only one person at a time after visiting hours. Your friend must wait here."
"She's my sister," Nuang protested.
Itta took Nuang by the arm and said, "You go ahead. There's something I must do. I'll come back later. You'll still be here, won't you?"
Nuang understood her sister's concern, but it was for nothing. She was tired of running away. She would stay here until little Tippawan was released. Then she would go home. Not to Chiang Mai, but to her mother's house in Phitsanulok. She never expected to see Surat again; that part of her life was finished. She took Itta's hand in hers and squeezed tight. "Don't worry; I'll be here."
Itta nodded and smiled, "Go to your baby. I'll see you later."
Nuang walked to examination room B. Little Tippawan was asleep. Her heart ached at the bandages on her daughter's little body. So much she wanted to pick her up and hold her close. "I love you," she whispered in the dim solitude. A tear welled and slid down her cheek.
A nurse stepped into the room, "Please, the doctor is coming. I think he'll reset her shoulder. It would be easier, if you wait in the lobby." Her voice was kind yet firm.
Nuang didn't argue. She went back to the waiting area and tried to get comfortable. She wondered what would the future bring? Would Surat come back looking for her? She hoped not. If he had been angry enough to kill the American, what might he do to her? After everything that had happened, she would deserve whatever he did.
The faint cry of a baby in pain reached her ears through the double doors of examination rooms. She cringed at the sound. She cupped her face in her hands and cried.