37


By the time they got to the Malaysia Hotel, Saifon knew that old taxi better'n her pink Chevy. She'd got to practice her Lao with Dtui, and it surprised her how it was all still in her head. It was like it was in storage in a little room up behind her ear some place. They got to know Dtui better'n some wives know their husbands. He give 'em the address of his relatives and said to be sure and look 'em up when they got up there.

The Malaysia was a happening hotel. They'd only chose it cause Waldo wasn't happy about lying to the immigration guy. Waldo probably never told a real honest-to-goodness lie in his life. This way he could say he was going to Malaysia and really mean it.

The reception area wasn't that big and it was crammed with all kinds of deadbeats, drunks and hookers. The deadbeats was mostly Thai men. And the drunks was all Western guys, even though a lot of 'em could of been fitted in the 'deadbeat' section too. It looked more like a whore house than a hotel. And it was only four in the evening.

A little bell-guy in uniform took 'em over to the elevator, and when the doors opened, there was two half-dressed women in there. It was kind'a their office. They must of rode up and down all day preying on tourists. When they saw Waldo with Saifon, they assumed what most people did, that he'd already gotten his gal.

The semi-naked broads was angry. This was their territory. They said something to Saifon in Thai. She answered 'em in English.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand." She smiled even though she knew what they'd said.

"You no Thai? You looks like Thai."

"Where you come from?"

"I'm American."

"Yankee? Right on."

They looked at the big fella.

"You wanna go three way?"

"Maybe four. Okay?"

"No. Thank you."

In the surprisingly nice room, the bell-guy showed 'em how to switch on the TV, and the air conditioner, and offered 'em things to smoke, swallow, inhale or inject. They politely refused.

It hadn't occurred to either of 'em to get two single rooms. The two beds was so small, when Waldo lay down on one, he looked like a hippo on a wafer biscuit.

"Maybe we should of gotten two doubles," Saifon shouted from the bathroom. She was bursting for a pee, but I guess you really didn’t need to know that.

"No. It's okay. I'm so bushed I could sleep standing up. Hey, Saifon."

"Yeah?"

"What's a three way?"

She laughed.

"It's where you get to be the beef in a burger."

"Oh. I see." (He didn't.) "Ain't you tired?"

"Yeah. But I got a call to make first."

 

-o-

 

By the time she got around to it, there was more noise coming out of Waldo asleep than out of the pig waiting room at the meatworks. So she went down to reception and called from there. It weren't much quieter.

She made her appointment and was feeling pleased with herself until this scrawny little English guy from Yorkshire or some other darn place where people ain't learned how to speak right, come up to her. He was wearing a string singlet and soccer shorts. He'd been out in the sun for the first time in his life and was glowing like a stoplight. He breathed beer in her face.

"All right. Come on. You'll do."

"I'll do what."

"Blimey. One who speaks English at last. How much for sucky sucky?" He demonstrated with his thumb.

"Sucky sucky?"

"Aye. Hurry up. I'm already half mast." Before she could stop him, he grabbed her hand and put it on the flagpole. She pulled away and got that evil look in her eye that spelled trouble. She cleared her throat and straightened her spine.

"Well, hell. We'll sure have to do something about that, won't we." He had barely enough time to raise a smile before her knee solved his half-masting problem for the day, and probably many more days to come. He went down like a blown tire and his stoplight red turned to green.

She wasn't sure he could hear her but she told him anyway,

"There's whores, and there's ladies. Ninety-nine point nine percent of women in this part of the world are ladies. I'm a lady. You should'a asked."