Koon Chai Cafe

Chapter One - Takeoff

Kopter

"Ladies and Gentleman, we are now boarding rows A to F. I repeat, boarding all seats from rows A to F."

The intercom crackled back into silence, only leaving the excited hum of travellers eagerly awaiting departure. The air was thick with a concoction of a thousand smells, from clean crisp laundry to the sweet and savoury smells of the airport food court.

This 2 AM flight to New York had attracted a mixed crowd. Some serious looking businessmen impatiently checked their Rolexes whilst tired, unshowered backpackers desperately tried to not pass out on their rucksacks propped up on the grey waiting lounge seats.

I loved flying. I don't know what it was about them but airports just gave me the greatest rush. Maybe it was the fact that airports didn't seem to adhere to the laws of time. Walking into one transported you into another dimension, where drinking at 10am or sleeping on the floor in an immaculate suit were perfectly normal and respectable things to be doing. It's like a land free of judgement as everyone rushes across the world.

The family beside me stood up and I watched them as they hastily walked towards the gate with two screaming toddlers thrashing around in their arms. Once they were out of sight, I stood up and brushed the crumbs of my pre-flight sandwich off of my lap. I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder and walked towards the check-in gate, passport in hand.

From the depths of my grey sweatpants, the muffled sound of my generic default ringtone rang out. I heard the old lady behind me tutting loudly as she muttered, "Kids and their damn phones," under her breath as I stepped to one side.

"Hello?"

"Darling, you said you'd call me before you take off. I was worried!"

I held in my sigh. "Mom, I'm literally boarding right now. I couldn't have called you any sooner if I'd wanted to."

"Humph, a likely story." She let out a wistful sigh, a clear sign of how guilty I should be feeling.

"Okay, I'm sorry but I can talk now. Well at least for the next ten minutes or so..." My voice trailed off as I was distracted by the sheer size of the plane before me. How the hell do those things get off the ground?

Thank god I don't have to take physics this year.

"You remember what to do when you land at JFK?" She insisted as though she hadn't been drilling it into me for the past two weeks like an undersized, Thai drill sergeant.

"Head straight through passport control and wait." She replied, answering her own question. "Your uncle will be waiting for you right outside the entrance so don't even think about wandering anywhere on your own."

"Mom, please. I'm eighteen, I'll manage just fine."

The flight attendant gave me a reproachful look as I handed her my boarding pass. I guess passengers walking in already on loud telephone calls were a bad omen for them.

"And remember to call me as soon as you land, and after your first day too."

"Don't you worry, I'll let you know all the details of the raves, drugs and parties I'll take part in."

"Kopter Sittawat," she barked.  "If I hear of you being in so much as the same room as a drug you'll be in big trouble, Mister! You'll have to bear the full force of your own mother's wrath if you use our family's fortune for such frivolous expenses."

She was always so easy to wind up, though I was beginning to suspect that she played into it for comedic effect. 

"You know I'm not like that Mom, I- Sorry sir, I think that's my seat?" The elderly man in seat C3 grumbled as I squeezed past him into my place.

"You've gotta study hard while you're there, my love. Work hard, get good grades and try your best. That way you'll be able to attend a good university there too and be well equipped to take over the business."

A dull gnawing feeling began in my stomach. Ah yes, the family business. Sounds so ominous, but really my family's claim to fortune was in Thai food. 

My great-grandmother had set the business up during the Vietnam war back in the nineteen fifties as a small food stand for American soldiers. As a very good-looking single mother aged twenty-seven, she gained moderate success amongst the homesick soldiers but the business really started booming when her eldest daughter, my grandmother, took over twenty years later.

Aged twenty-four my Grandmother married an American businessman. With his wealth and business know-how and her ruthless culinary expertise, they grew that small stall into a Thai food empire with branches all over Bangkok.

Since then, it's been passed down the female line of my family from sister to sister and mother to daughter. My mother was the one to take the business international, hence why my uncle was stationed in New York as the US branch manager. Unfortunately, since my Grandmother's generation there's been a drought of female heirs. My mother was born the eldest of two with just one younger brother and seven male cousins. As the only child of my mother, I'll be the first man to have run the business in all sixty three years of its existence.

No Pressure.

"-and remember to wear clean underwear every day," she rambled on. "I'll be checking!" 

"I don't even wanna think about how you'd be able to check that Mom, but I will."

The familiar 'bing bong' of a cabin announcement filled the air.

"Ladies and gentleman," sounded a low, cool female voice. "We will be taking off shortly, please be sure to stowaway all handheld luggage and switch off any mobile devices. Thank you."

"Mom, I'm gonna have to go, they're taking off. I'll call once I'm with uncle Nok. Love you!"

The flight attendant gives me a relieved look as I hang up the phone and proceeds with the safety demonstration.

Take offs are always my least favourite part of the experience. At least with landing you had the giddy excitement of being in a new place and finally getting out of this stuffy metal can, with take offs all you have to look forward to are leg cramps.

The plane lurched forward and I held my breath, I'll be damned if I let my ears pop on this flight. I resisted the urge to close my eyes, looking out the window at the twinkling lights of Bangkok below growing smaller and fainter. My heart sank knowing that next time I'd see those lights again would be in December when we break up for the winter holidays. I'd never been so far from home for so long, if I didn't know my workaholic mother any better, I'd be scared she'd get lonely.

I sat back in my seat and finally closed my eyes. What will have changed when I return this winter? Will I be a different person to the one I am now?

With one final lurch, the plane finally stabilised and the seatbelt light pinged back on.

I pulled out my sleep mask and firmly blocked all the light I could from my vision in the hopes of at least a few hours of interrupted sleep.

Only nineteen hours to go.