Cross Currents (32 page)

“The people he loves . . . He puts them through a lot. So be careful.”

“Don't say that.”

Ryan bent down and picked up his suitcase. “Good-bye, Brooke.”

She let go of his hand and watched him step out the door. Her legs felt weak, and she started to sit down, but an idea came to her, and she hurried outside, running now, moving away from Ryan, ignoring the looks of strangers as her feet rose and fell on the warm sand.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, PATCH RAN toward the village. Though the side of his face throbbed, he was barely aware of the pain. Instead he focused on where to find Dao. Brooke had told him her name, saying that only she could stop Ryan from leaving.

Most of the massage parlors were located on the far side of the island, and based on Ryan's description of the area, Patch felt he was headed in the right direction. He wasn't used to running and soon became winded, stopping in front of a vendor's stall. Patch asked the woman if she knew of a Dao who gave massages near the beach. To his delight, she nodded and told him in broken English where he might find her.

The small parlor by the sea was open for business. Patch stepped inside, forcing himself to slow down in case she had a customer. He softly called out her name and, shortly thereafter, a curtain opened on the side of the room. A young woman with long black hair said hello and asked him how he knew her name.

“I'm Ryan's brother,” he replied, breathing hard.

She looked at him curiously, noting the striking similarities of their faces, as well as the differences between their bodies. “He not here,” she said. “You want massage? I give good one. Best one on Ko Phi Phi.”

“I know he's not here. He's headed to the pier. He's going to leave.”

Her smiled faded and she suddenly looked older. “He leave? Why?”

“Will you do something for me? Please?”

“What?”

“Will you please go to the pier and talk to him?”

She stepped back. “I think you crazy. Why I go find him? I cannot leave job.”

“He told me about you. He was so excited about you.”

“Excited? If he leave, then he not excited. I sure, sure of that.”

Patch closed the door behind him so that another customer wouldn't appear. “I did something terrible to him. I hurt him. It doesn't have anything to do with you. But he's leaving. And I think he should stay.”

“He punch you? That why your face all red and big?”

“Yeah, he punched me.”

To his surprise, she laughed. “Not good to get punched by King Kong. You want a beer?”

“You're not . . . you're not following me. I need you to go to him. And tell him something.”

“What? Tell him what?”

“Tell him that . . . that his brother will do what he wants. I'll turn myself in. Tell him that I'll turn myself in.”

“I no understand.”

Patch smiled. Now that he'd said those words, now that he'd made a decision, it felt as if a great weight had been taken from his back. “But he will. He'll understand, Dao. He'll understand if you say that I'm going to turn myself in. Because I trust him . . . and I love him.”

“What your name?”

“Patch.”

“Batch?”

“No, Patch. Like you . . . you sew a patch on your shirt.”

“I get in trouble if I leave shop.”

“I'll stay,” he replied, liking her. “I'll stay and say that you'll be back soon.”

She scratched her scalp. “Why you come to me?”

“Because he cares about you. He'll listen to you.”

“He say . . . he care about me?”

“Yesterday. He told me that yesterday.”

“My mother think he want to marry me.”

Patch grinned. “I know.”

“It good dream, for now,” she said, nodding. “A happy dream. Okay, I go get King Kong. Be more careful next time, so he no punch you again.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure, sure.”

He watched her depart, wishing her speed, wanting Ryan to stay for her sake as much as his.

RYAN STARED AT THE DISTANT ferry, his iPod filling him with Bill Withers's “Ain't No Sunshine.” The singer's melancholy voice and words roused a feeling of nostalgia that seemed to seep into Ryan's every pore. He remembered arriving on Ko Phi Phi in the private speedboat and realized that Brooke had been right. It would have been better to land in the ferry along with everyone else. The speedboat was a luxury in a land that needed none.

He hadn't ever expected to be alone when he left the island. A profound sense of loss resided within him. Three people he cared about were being left behind, three people who were nearby, at that moment, but would most likely never occupy the same space with him again. In a few hours everything would be different. Cars would honk. People would hurry. He would go back to being himself, to rushing from one destination to the next, from one task to the next.

Worst of all, he had failed. He'd soon have to tell his parents about this failure, about how Patch insisted on trying to escape. Ryan had been so confident of convincing him otherwise, which was one of the reasons that his parents had stayed behind. His mother's health would have made the voyage hard for her, but his father would have come. Ryan had talked him out of the journey, however, saying that he could best approach Patch alone.

His hand still ached, and he wondered if he might have fractured his pinkie finger, which was red and swollen. Cursing his temper, he unzipped his suitcase and searched for a painkiller. He swallowed two pills without water, then looked at the ferry again, wishing it were only a speck on the horizon.

Ryan didn't want to leave but felt he had to. He reminded himself of this need time and time again as the ferry approached. Passengers aboard the ship waved to people on the pier. Not as many people waved back, and it was obvious that the spirits of those arriving were higher than those departing.

The ferry docked, and a few minutes later, passengers began to disembark. Ryan glimpsed the father and son from Rainbow Resort as they tried to get the attention of new arrivals. He had started to walk toward them, to thank them for their hospitality, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Dao stood behind him, dressed in her pink shorts and T-shirt, the breeze stirring her hair. “Why King Kong leave so soon?” she asked, scowling. “Why you no get last massage?”

He pulled out his earpieces, surprised to see her. “You . . . found me?”

“Why you go?”

“I have to.”

“I have to breathe. To drink water. I not have to go anywhere. Why you have to go? What so important?”

Ryan moved closer to a railing, so that people could walk past them. “But . . . how did you know I was here?”

“Your brother . . . your crazy brother . . . he find me. He tell me where to find you.”

“He did?”

Her brow furrowed. “Maybe I need to clean out your ears. You not hear so good today.”

“How did he find you?”

“Why you ask me so many questions? I boss here. I ask the questions.”

Her petulance made him smile. “All right, boss. Ask away.”

“Why you leaving so soon?”

“My brother and I . . . we had a fight. I punched him.”

She laughed. “I know. I see his face. It red like a tomato. I tell him it not a good idea to get punched by King Kong.”

“You're right. Though . . . though I think I broke my finger.”

She reached for his hand and inspected his swollen finger. Supporting it, she moved it back and forth. “This hurt?”

“A little.”

“If it broken, I think it hurt a lot. Come, we go put ice on it. We fix it.”

He didn't move. “Dao, I have to leave. I'm sorry. I don't want to . . . but I have to.”

“You make no sense. You been drinking Thai whiskey?”

Ryan glanced around and saw that the pier was almost empty of waiting passengers. “I came here for my brother. To help him. But he doesn't want my help. And so I have to go.”

“He tell me something. To tell you.”

“What?”

“I no understand it. He acting so crazy.”

“What are you supposed to tell me?”

“He say . . . he say that he turn himself in. He want you to stay. Because he going to turn himself in. I no understand what he talking about, but he ask me to tell you this. He say he trust you. And he love you.”

“Are you sure?”

Dao frowned, slapping his arm. “Sure, I sure. I no forget such thing.”

A smile spread across Ryan's face. The heaviness within him disappeared. Impulsively, he reached for Dao with his good hand, squeezing her forearm. “That's good news. That's really good news.”

“Why? He now turn himself in instead of turning himself out? You and your brother make no sense to me. You both crazy, I think.”

Ryan glanced at the ferry, no longer worried about its presence. “Thank you, Dao. Thank you for coming here.”

“You are welcome. Now . . . do you stay or do you go?”

“I'll stay.”

“Good. Because I must get back to shop, before I get into trouble.”

She started to turn away, but he continued to hold her arm. “Where should I stay?” he asked. “I don't want . . . to be near Patch. Is there a resort on this side of the island that would be good?”

“Sure, sure.”

“Will you show me? When do you get off work?”

“Six o'clock.”

“Will you meet me here? And then you can show me?”

Dao started to speak but stopped, unsure whether she should see him once more outside her massage parlor. He'd been ready to leave, ready to leave without even saying good-bye. And though she liked him and hoped to see him again, she didn't want to get hurt. “You not nice to me,” she said, shaking her head. “You come to see me. You confuse my mother. And then, next day, you try to leave. That make me look bad. That embarrass me. So why should I help you again? Why should I meet you?”

He saw the hurt in her eyes and released her arm. “I'm sorry. I've . . . I've thought about you. A lot. But I had to leave.”

“In movie, King Kong never leave the woman. Maybe you should have a new nickname. Batman or something.”

“Can I make it up to you? Tonight. Can I take you out for a special dinner?”

“Too many people will see. Then, when you leave, I look even worse.”

Ryan wished the island weren't so small, that she didn't know everyone. He cracked a knuckle. “What if I brought dinner to my room? Could you . . . could you meet me there?”

Dao nodded but said nothing.

“At six?” he asked.

“My family eat dinner together. Every night around seven o'clock. But I can leave my shop earlier, if I pay a fine to my boss.”

“I'll pay it. I'll gladly pay it.”

She glanced around, looking for familiar faces. “You go find the Hillside Bungalows. It at far end of island. Get room there, and put dirty clothes outside your bungalow's door. I see you there at five o'clock.”

He replied, but his words might have been unheard, because she turned from him and hurried back toward her shop, darting around carts and piles of luggage, a blur of pink that held his eye until she vanished into the village.