The Bad Son (Book 2)

Chapter 31

"Three months, Ma." Pete slumped in the chair across from Putch. "Three months. Ae hasn't been able to meet up with Can and Tin won't answer my calls. Don't tell me he's hurting." He leaned forward and met her eyes. "I can't fix this. You want to mother, or smother or do something, you do it."

He stood up and slammed out of the office. Putch leaned back in her chair, mouth hanging open. Then, she picked up the phone and called her best friend, the woman who, besides her, raised Pete. "Jiew, we eat together tonight. Our boy's all grown up. He told me off today." Tears stood in her eyes. 

It still didn't solve the problem of Tin. That boy was hurting. So was Can. He never returned to working at the bar after his breakup with Tin. She had become fond of the hyperactive, talkative boy. He could cause a mess, but he also was the first one to volunteer to work extra and fix other's mistakes.

Tin hid all his sorrows inside but was always so polite while doing so. No child, Pete included, should ever have to bottle everything inside. Everyone needed a safe outlet. For a long time, she hoped Pete could be that friend. It was obvious that Ae's jealousy would never allow it. 

Perhaps, mothers could fix it? Putch picked up the phone, and dialed his number. What would it hurt to try? "Mrs. Kirakorn? My name is Putch Pichaya, Can's boss at the hotel. Would you have time for lunch today?"

Ma Kirakorn stared at the Grand Hotel's restaurant and sighed. She nodded, determined. She could do anything for her boy! A small, delicate woman wearing a black business suit approached. 

"Mrs. Kirakorn? I'm Putch Pichaya." Her hand was outstretched. Ma shook it. "Please, this way."

As they sat down, Putch continued, "I thought we would eat first, then talk about the boys." Ma nodded again. "I've ordered lunch for us already. I can change that if you have any allergies, or preferences?"

"Oh please," Ma finally spoke, "I'm not fancy. I'm a housewife, with two kids. Can't you speak to me like a friend instead of a client? You're making me real nervous!"

Putch broke out laughing. "I see where Can gets it from, his directness. Of course. Then let's chat while we wait for our food. Tin and Can belong together."

Ma sighed. "I agree. So what do you have in mind?"

"We need to get them in the same room. No one's seen Tin in three months. How's Can holding up?"

"He looks like hell. He barely eats. He's lost weight. He goes to school, comes home and sleeps." Ma nibbled on her finger. "I've never, ever seen him like this. I'm about ready to drag him to a doctor."

Putch slid a photo across the table. "That was Tin, last week at a press conference."

"Oh my god. That poor boy." 

Shaking her head, Putch sighed. "If you see a boy in him, I'm impressed. He's all man now, Mrs. Kirakorn. What scared me is his eyes are dead. He's lifeless. Pete said that's how he looked before he went to England. Before he met your son."

Ma ran her fingers over the photo. "What do you have in mind?"

Reaching over, Putch tapped her finger on the photo. "It starts there. Take that to Can. Show him. Then do nothing. We then need a picture of Can mailed to Tin. and then do nothing."

Ma nodded, slipping the photo in her purse. "Hard copies, eh? Not digital."

Putch nodded. "If they want to tear it up, let them. You still have pieces to clean up. Deletion is a final step, once it's gone, it's gone. Ah, the food. Let's eat!"

Ma enjoyed lunch. Then, she went home and took a picture of Can, as he stepped in the door from school. He didn't say anything, went straight up to his room. 

There, he found the picture of Tin on his bed. No envelope, no note... just the picture on his pillow. Slow tears fell down his cheeks as he clasped it to his chest. Something looked different. It took a few minutes to sink in... 

He pulled it away and carefully studied the photograph. Then it hit him. Tin had prominent cheekbones, his adam's apple stood out. He could clearly see his clavicle. But the worst part, besides his weight loss, was his eyes.

They were flat, dull, lifeless, even in the photo. Was things so bad for him that he couldn't ask for help? Why wasn't he reaching out for help? Can crawled up onto his bed, pulling his blanket over his head and sobbed. He cried for everything he gave up when he walked out on Tin many months ago.

A few days later, Tin walked into the office and his administrative assistant handed him the morning mail. He sighed and tossed it on the desk. He undid his tie slightly and sat down. Then he stood. He felt uneasy.

He had, ever since he had read the lawyer's dossier on Gonhin. That was some kind of fucked up. Now, he had a choice to make. He had checked with Father's lawyer and unbeknownst to Tul, Father had kept tabs on Gonhin. 

Tell Tul and let him decide or not to tell? When did his life turn into a Shakespearean Play? And a Tragedy at that? "Fuck the world!" Tin screamed. "Fuck it! I want off at the next stop. Do not pass go!" His fist slammed the shatter proof glass of the window looking over Bangkok.

The pain in his hand helped him focus. Taking several deep breaths, he sat down again and began flipping through the mail. Interoffice went into one pile, outside mail went into another. Then, he came across an envelope that just had his name, Tin, on it. 

He knew it was a woman's hand that wrote it. The assistance had opened it but not looked inside. It was protocol. Curiously, he took out the contents. In it was a picture of Can.

His heart stuttered, then began to beat faster. He rubbed it between his fingers. Can was a mess. He looked so thin, haggard even. How could someone who ate his weight in food every day, loose that much weight? "My poor baby..." Tin kissed the photograph.

It was odd, that the whole time they were together, not once had Tin thought to take a picture. He truly believed that they had all the time in the world. Why had this photo showed up now? He sighed. It didn't matter. He had a photograph. It was the most precious thing he owned.

He called the secretary. "Umm, can you get me a picture frame? I think it's 20x30 cm? Thanks." It wasn't time yet to claim Can. "I'm sorry, not yet. I need to finish things with Tul. Be patient with me a little longer, okay, Can?"

He slid the precious photograph into his top drawer for safe keeping until the frame arrived. Thanking whatever gods decided to send him the picture, he called his father's lawyer. "Send Gonhin's contact information to me. I know what I need to do."

"Gonhin, whoever the hell you are, I sure the hell hope you are worth all of this!" Tin rubbed at the lines that developed between his eyebrows.

Then, he called Tul. He needed to know exactly how the counselling sessions were going. Pha said daddy was more fun, but what did children really know? "Tul? Do you have time for dinner tonight?"

Having set that in place, the rest of the day flew by. Tin knew that once Tul was back at Medthanan Industries, he could have a life again. Things were finally starting to come together.