To Hunt a Holy Man by Michael Fletcher

Author:Michael Fletcher [Fletcher, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2023-07-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Cole’s day was at an end, and so was he. What kind of a shit-hole bar is this? He scanned the modest liquor cabinet behind the restaurant’s bar, and the only quality booze he found were two bottles of liqueurs that some foreign tourists had left behind. But there was not a drop of decent whisky in the place.

He didn’t care if they had Glenlivet. Just anything imported would save him from drinking that Mekong rotgut, a whisky perfect for getting the great-unwashed masses drunk. Cole knew Mekong kicks you squarely in the head the next day – a built-in penitence device for those who didn’t stop at the third or fourth glass.

. . . . .

Pip stepped away from the table to talk with her uncle Suwit by telephone, and she left Cole in the company of her younger cousin, Lek, and two of his river-rat friends whom Aunt Nid detested. The refined old lady had turned in over an hour ago, right after the dessert was served, a coconut milk and banana dish she knew Pip loved. The two local girls in the kitchen had cleared the table and brought out a fresh quart of Mekong Whisky and another bucket of ice. They placed both items on the table then retreated to the veranda overlooking the boat dock, remaining out of sight but within earshot.

“So,” Lek was continuing on about the good Thai-American relations, “you see, we help America in Vietnam. And we like Americans.” He grinned and looked at his friends who were grinning too, even though they were not exactly sure what he was saying.

Cole thought, These two guys look like they just ate a couple of bowls of shit. Because he was the son of the owners, Lek was flexing and his friends were admiring his skills in a language that they could not comprehend. They caught an English word every now and then, like they were watching boxcars flying down a train track, catching only the general drift, force and direction of the conversation. But no matter, all four of them were getting to a low boil, following Lek’s insistence to keep the shots flowing.

“Great. Great,” started Cole. “Since we’re such good buddies and all, what say we take your boat down to Khong Chiam village tomorrow morning? You can skipper us down there. I can pay you. Good money. No problem.”

Lek looked at his friends and said in Thai, “This guy’s gonna go with my cousin to Khong Chiam tomorrow and I’m gonna take them down there. I can pluck his ass clean of feathers and stuff them in my pockets – make some good money!”

They all erupted in laughter and Cole figured Lek was giving them some sarcastic bullshit, but he let it slide. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to make it into an issue. “Sure, sounds good. Let’s make it 6am. OK?”

Lek laughed and said, “Are you a monk or something?! Six in morning too damn early. Eight OK.

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