Page 68 of Baby Love

It’s a beautiful night, with the full moon shining over the beach, and after eating, everyone gathers around a big fire, drinks in hand. P’Big plays his guitar, and everyone sings. I’m sure they’re all as tired as I am but ready to celebrate that we finished what we had to do here.

After the fifth song, I glance around. P’Park said there was something he had to do and he’d meet up with me later, and I haven’t seen him since. Full after the big meal, I decide to take a walk up the beach. Getting to my feet, I give P’Gift, who just walked back over to the group with a fresh drink, a hug and tell him I’ll be back shortly.

Moving away from the circle of light, I walk barefoot through the surf, enjoying the feeling of the soft water creeping onto my toes before receding back into the ocean. Memories of a day long ago—the only other time I’ve been to the beach—flood my mind. I was around six, and my mother took me. I remember being in awe looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean and thinking that it was something alive—a sentient being that wanted to touch me. Rather than be frightened, the idea fascinated me. So much so that, when my mother’s back was turned, I tried to walk into the sea, the waves lapping on my legs and then my waist. I heard my mother’s cry of fear just before she latched onto my arm and pulled me back, dragging me to shore.

It was on that trip that she bought me the giant conch shell at the gift shop.

I remember how angry my father was when he found out where we went. I hid my conch so he wouldn’t break it, and now it sits on the shelf in my kitchen.

I’ve walked quite a way from the bonfire, my mind lost in the past, when I spot two shadows sitting on a picnic bench, their heads close together. At first I can’t tell who it is, and then, as I get closer, I come to a halt when I realize it’s P’Park and P’Pear. P’Park is laughing, and the moon shines brightly onto P’Pear’s face, clearly showing her expression.

“She’s in love with him,” I say aloud, the words eaten by the wind and surf as soon as they pass my lips.

They haven’t seen me, and I consider turning and walking away, but what if they see me do that? Uncertain, I stay where I am and therefore witness the moment when P’Pear leans in and kisses P’Park.

Swiftly spinning on my heel, I walk rapidly in the opposite direction, not slowing down until the bonfire’s in sight. Someone stands and breaks off from the group, walking my way, and the closer we get to each other, the better I can make him out.

“Nong, what are you doing all alone?”

I hug P’Daeng, burying my face in his shirt. He pulls back and tilts up my face, studying me in the moonlight.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head and trying to smile, but it wobbles. “I just needed a hug. I’m tired. Maybe I’ll head back to the hotel.”

“I’ll walk with you,” P’Daeng says, falling into step with me.

“Don’t you want to enjoy the bonfire?” I ask.

“No. I’ve had about enough of Gift for today. He’s driving me crazy. He’s so by the book–I’m sure he has no idea how to have fun.”

“That’s not true.” I look back over my shoulder at where P’Gift sits talking to one of the lighting guys, who hands him another beer from the cooler. “Right now he looks drunk,” I add, observing the way P’Gift lists to the side and the lighting guy wraps his arm around him to pull him back.

P’Daeng stops walking. When he turns to look, his expression darkens. “Oh, hell, no,” he says, striding back toward the group. Grabbing hold of P’Gift’s hand, he drags him to his feet, and, wrapping his arm around P’Gift’s waist, walks him back to where I’m standing near the dunes.

P’Gift’s voice slurs as he says, “I dropped my beer!”

“You’ve had enough to drink,” P’Daeng tells him. “Come on. We’re going back to the hotel with Spin.”

“Oh, hi, Nong,” P’Gift says when he sees me, smiling unabashedly the way a lot of people do when they’ve had too much to drink.

“Hi, P’Gift. Are you feeling okay?” I ask, helping P’Daeng maneuver him toward the hotel by ducking under P’Gift’s free arm and taking some of his weight.

“I feel good. Sooo good,” P’Gift says emphatically. “Why are we leaving the fun?”

“Because you were one drink away from going home with Tar,” P’Daeng growls.

P’Gift looks confused. “Who?”

“One of the lighting guys,” I explain.

“Pffft. I don’t sleep around.”

“I bet you don’t drink much, either. You’re a lightweight,” P’Daeng says. P’Gift trips on the soft sand, almost taking all three of us to the ground. With a curse, P’Daeng turns and scoops P’Gift over his shoulder, carrying him across the parking lot while I hurry after them.

“I don’t feel so good.” P’Gift looks a little green in the face when he lifts it up to me.

“Let him down,” I tell P’Daeng.

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