The Perfect Storm
We never talked about Gordon anymore, so this is before all the other stuff happened:
She showed me the picture on her cell of a man in an orange dress. ”Do you know who this is?”
”Of course. It's Gordon. He's been around for years. He used to come all the time to the Same Same Bar. Haven't seen him for a while though. Why is he wearing the orange?”
”That was before, when he was in custody. Now he's back in jail. In the US.”
”What happened?”
”He was raping babies. He was wanted by the FBI for not appearing in court on charges of child abuse. He was on bail and he disappeared before the coming up on a court case on raping a four-year old girl. And he showed me photos of babies and he said he had nine babies, with different women.”
”What the hell? I didn't see that coming. Maybe he was raping the babies too?”
”Of course he was.” It was merely an assumption, but she said, ”Read the article.”
I did. There were the photos of Gordon along with the warrant – it looked like a poster in a wild west movie – Wanted, it said, with the details; Native American, brown eyes, six feet four, 265 pounds. The poster promised 1000 dollars to anyone who could give information about his whereabouts leading to his arrest. Somehow he escaped from the States and ended up in Cambodia and Siem Reap.
”How did he get out of the country in the first place?”
”You ever heard of people in high places in the US – politicians, judges, business people? There's a list, and they are all members of a huge ring of pedophiles?”
”Like Pizzagate?” It was another conspiracy theory, true or not, I don't know, but Gordon was very real.
”That's right. And that's how he could escape. But when the guy who was protecting Gordon retired, the FBI found out he was hiding in Siem Reap, and with the help of the local police they got him. He was deported back to the US. He's looking at a very long sentence”.
”He had a local girlfriend here, and they had at least one kid together”.
Kate showed me a thumb and two fingers – ”Three.”
”Must have been a shock to her when the cops came knocking on their door. How did you know him?”
”From Same Same Bar. I saw him abuse people around him, like a cat playing with a mouse.”
”It's funny. I never saw him do that. And he was always nice to me.”
”He was coming on to me, but I had this creepy feeling about him so I kept him at a distance. I guess he understood, because he messed up my hair and said, 'If I can't mess up your mind I can always mess up your hair!'”.
It was shocking. Absolutely shocking. And how come I never saw anything strange about this man. Maybe the beers had clouded my mind?
”And he was always nice to you?” she said ” – I saw him treat people like crap. How come he was nice to you?”
”I don't know. Maybe he thought he would lose?” I wasn't sure. Gordon wasn't a kind of a guy who would take a no for an answer.
”It could be true”, she said. The whole story was dramatic and I had to let it sink in for a while. I wasn't feeling hungry anymore. ”Let's go to The Temple and have a beer.”
We did. Later on our nights out on the town would be calibrating to the perfect storm and I loved every minute of it.
But now tears were beginning to well in her eyes. She said:
”I won this ping pong game and you did that! – l'm going home now!”
”Please wait. Let me explain one thing – what I meant was I want to play with you again.”
”I win every time and all the guys react the same way you do – they make excuses, because they don't think I can play. It's the only thing I'm good at and you wouldn't let me enjoy this moment.”
What I had said was, ”Let's do it again when I'm sober.” I regretted it when I saw her reaction. And it didn't work as an excuse either, because we were both drunk.
She had asked me, ”How do you look at yourself – as a happy or a sad person?”
”Happy.” I had a sip of the draft. We were sitting at one of the outdoor restaurants at the old market. I was faking surprise:
”Look – my glass is already half empty.”
”Hahaha!” Of course she knew about the half empty/full glass theory. Everybody does. I thought she was trying to pick my brains because she had told me that she sometimes picked people's brains just for the fun of it. It was a wasted talent. You pick people's brains only when you need to. Like when there is danger ahead. Some guy wants to fight you; you make them cry and they will buy you the next beer. There's nothing to it. It never happened here though. And maybe she just had spent too much time at the university anyway?
”Theories is not the reality”, I said.”
”Then, what is?”
She liked to compete. And she liked to win. I asked her to come with me and play a game of table tennis at Aura Bar. I thought I could win that one. But she took me to the cleaners.
And here we are.
Kate had the long blond hair that every local girl loved enviously; the smile; a face you could take a photo of, scramble it into pieces, put them together again and she would still be photogenic. The camera loved her. She had long legs that would happily take her for a ten mile walk any day of the week, and I should have understood there was something that was not a joke to her.
I had gotten my ass beaten. It was a good thing too. I told her. ”It's a good thing for my ego and it's a good thing for you too.”
”Why?”
”Because now I'll have to upgrade you, hahaha! I promised you a drink if you win. Let's go and get that drink.”
Guy was sitting at the bar. I hadn't seem him since last year. ”So, this is were you are hiding?”
”Yes. I don't go to Sok San Road that much anymore.”
”Good to see you mate. Kate, what would you have?”
”Jameson. With ice.”
She had told me she was an empath. I had to google it so now I said:
”Good for you! Have you seen Species?
”What is it?”
”A science fiction movie where they encounter an alien race that has landed here on earth. One of the members of the crew that go to meet up with the ET is an empath.”
”Haven't seen that one.”
First when I had met her she talked the happy talk, chatting away, like nothing really matters. Now she was more composed and relaxed. I asked Guy if he still had his blue motorcycle. ”Yes, it's here outside.”
”You have a motorcycle?” asked Kate.
They started a conversation and Lee walked into the bar. It was the same Lee who had been to Christian's place on the Mekong a few month ago when I also was there. ”I thought you'd gone back to the Mekong”, I said.
”I thought about it, but no, I've been here all the time. I'm staying here at Aura Bar. They have nice rooms. I've been sick. Gastric ulser.”
”And now?”
”Yeah, for the moment. I haven't had a drink for weeks.” He looked okay, a little bit worn out but the smile was the same, the smile of a skateboard pro. I wished him soon recovery and he grabbed a water and walked back to his bungalow.
Guy paid for his water or whatever he was drinking, said bye to everyone and started staggering towards his blue trike. He was holding on to tables and chairs on his way out. He had a balance problem.
Kate looked at me and flashed the empath eyes. We changed the subject. ”So, how many bands?” I asked.
”Six bands.”
A few days later we went to The Republic for the festival. Six bands were playing and we were there half past three in the afternoon. There was a beautiful garden and we were outdoors. The bar and the pool table were covered by an tin roof. More people were coming and almost everyone looked happy.
Well, it was not like, six bands. They just changed instruments with each other and called it something different. ”Cheers!” Cans were clinking to plastic mugs. We were sitting at the musicians' table close to the scene. We had the best seats in the house. I knew some of the people playing and Kate knew most of them too.
There was Dave on trombone, Cesar would soon join at the drums and Andy was the front guy. There was Ray on bass with a cigarette in his mouth and there was another fellow with a saxophone. They were playing reggae and ska. Message to you Rudy.
Andy was jumping around on the floor in front of the mic with an electric guitar in his hands. Now he was bouncing up and down on his right leg with the left one in the air, and when Dave with his trombone briefly exchanged a smile with the bass player you knew it could go either way.
This festival was about caring for the environment, healthy living too and only vegan food was served – and Andy, the front guy in the band, high as a kite fucked the whole thing up. The music would end with Cesar leaving the premises because he, as a pro, wouldn't tolerate Andy's antics. I saw the change with Cesar when Andy in the middle of a song ran over to him trying to show him how to play the beat by slamming the chords in front of his face.
Later Andy would burst into the bathroom, I was there washing my hands – ”Did I show any aggressivity on stage?”
”No. Not from where I was sitting. What happened to you guys on stage I don't know. I liked it. It was really good!”
”I want to ask you – did I show any aggressivity?”
”Look, I already answered your question. If you don't like the answer, don't ask the question.”
Andy ran out of the bathroom and when I came out he was talking into the mic so everybody would hear. He said, ”I'm gonna find two more bands for you!” He took off on his bicycle.
Dave sat down at the table. He put his trombone there too. ”What happened? I asked.
”I don't know how to say this...” He smiled.
”You don't have to say anything. You know. I know.” I glanzed at Kate. She took a sip off her Sangria. She knew too. And for a moment, a very brief moment, I was worried about how Andy was going to bring back two bands on his bicycle.
