Lotus Blood

Lotus Blood Part 4

Laughter tinkled across the morning air, pulling me back to some kind of reality, the images sliding away.

Ploy and Junior stood chatting to the monks, their heads close as she translated for him. He took after Dad in size and easy outlook, always smiling, never down. We were twins in name only. And, he never let me forget he was five minutes older.

Me, I was a complete mixture – Thai looks from Mum, mixed with Dad's wide British face. I was neither one thing nor the other. And, all the hours spent pounding up and down swimming pools meant I was too broad across the shoulders to ever be petite.

Bob had given up sniffing the trunk and lay down in the shade of the Bodhi tree, wagging his tail at me.

"Both mongrels, hey Bob?"

He wagged his tail harder, panting away.

I stepped out from the shade of the tree and onto the white concrete pool surround.

Hot, hot, hot!

The soles of my feet were on fire.

I half-ran, half-hopped and threw myself in a semi graceful attempt at a dive. I hit the cool, cool water and instantly I was calm, at home.

I came up, shook the water from my eyes, leaned back and floated.

So, now I was fifteen and what did that mean in Thailand? Maybe I could drive? I'd heard teenagers could in some American states.

I slipped into my usual daydream about escaping. Only this time I drove myself to the airport before flying home. My best friends, Jane and Helen would be waiting for me. And the best bit - Hal, my now ex-boyfriend, begging me to forgive him, well sod him.

My head cracked against something hard and rough. I'd floated up against the concrete side.

Whose stupid idea was it to make a swimming pool with rough edges?

The stupid plastic water slide, shaped like a fairy tale cottage, towered over me. I could just picture hordes of brats sliding down it, screaming their heads off.

I rubbed my head pinging my band and breathed, then slipped into easy lengths of front crawl, powering up and down, throwing in tumble turns to keep it smooth and stylish. The pool was way too small for serious swimming, so it was up and down, good easy rhythm, all about rhythm.

After fifty lengths I dived down into the cool deep water and sat on the bottom, trying not to think, just to be. I can hold my breath a really, really long time from all the early morning training with my swimming coach, Dave.

Big, Australian, handsome Dave, he always knew when to shout, when to scream and when to high five me.

I forced myself to stay down.

Make it all go away, make it rain, anything. Just take it all away.

My ears were pounding and eyes hurting when I gave in and let myself drift upwards. My head came out and I gulped in the hot air. It was so quiet, no hammering, no drills, almost like it had all gone away, the air still, waiting.

Then people were shouting, blue shirts running and pointing.

Great that'll get my air con fixed.

"Sis, get out!"

I'm not going anywhere.

"It's the sea. Come on!"

People poured down the beach road, calling to each other.

Lek sprinted past waving at the beach.

I doggy-paddled to the side, pulled myself out and grabbed my towel.

So, what's the big deal?

Everyone was now running around on the beach. I pulled the towel over my head then headed for Junior, who was stood with Ploy on a rock I'd never noticed before.

"Okay ... so?" I asked him.

"The sea, you dozy cow."

"The tide's out, Junior. It happens every day."

The red, white and blue squid fishing boats were keeled over on bare sand.

Where's all the water?

"What's happening, Ploy?" I asked.

She shook her head and smiled uncertainly. We were stood in barely ankle deep puddles.

"Junior?"

"I don't know, sis. It's ... look!"

He pointed to a white speedboat, leaned right over, stuck in the sand, the hull gleaming in the sun.

"Ploy? Does this happen often?" I asked.

She shook her head, her long black hair flowing. "I don't know. No, never."

The sun disappeared behind a cloud.

"Come on," Junior's voice was high, excited, "let's go out to the boats."

Ploy put her hand up to her forehead and said so quietly Junior didn't hear, "Maybe."

Junior was gone and I followed. It was hard work as my feet sank into the wet sand. Ploy hitched up her skirt as we splashed through puddles of foamy water, then Junior stopped and scrabbled in the sand.

"Look at this!" he shouted, struggling to hold onto something long and dark. He dropped it and went down on hands and knees trying to pick it up again. "Look what I caught! It's still alive, and slimy!"

He held a wriggling fish over his head, two handed, like a trophy, fighting to hold onto it.

Ploy let her skirt droop onto the wet sand.

Then there were shouts of, "Pla, pla! Fish fish!"

Lek ran past waving two huge fish. He tripped and they flew away from him. He sat on the sand, feet out, laughing. More people were coming now, carrying buckets and bowls, even glasses.

Junior had dropped the fish again. He jumped around feet planted wide, trying to get a grip on it.

"Stop it! Junior, just stop," I shouted, but he kept laughing as the fish tried to wriggle away. I grabbed his shoulder.

"What?" he panted, his hands covered in slime. "Like my fish Sis?"

"Put it down, Junior!" I screamed at him.

He almost trod on the fish and sat down hard on the soggy sand. He looked up at me, stunned. I grabbed at the fish and it slithered away.

"That's my fish, Nam."

"It's not your fish, it's still alive. It needs help."

Why do you always go too far?

"Ploy, help me," I pleaded, but she was stood staring out at the speedboat.

"Ploy, please."

I managed to get the slimy fish in my hands but it was hardly moving. I half pushed, half threw it towards a rock pool. It landed in a puddle and wriggled half-heartedly. I got my hands under the sand around the fish and heaved. It flew forward and landed on the edge of the pool and lay there. I rolled it in and it struggled away, flapping slowly.

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