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Authors: Colin Cotterill
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and walked back to the hospital.
“Mr. Geung?”
He didn’t look back.
Siri had never been to Dtui’s place. It was tucked behind the national stadium in a row of shanties that housed people who’d come down from the north to help rebuild the country. The huts were supposed to be temporary, but no one had yet been rehoused after almost a year. The senior cadres had priority for the new housing that was being built out in the suburbs. The little cogs would have to wait.
As he had no numbers or names to go by, it took him a while to find Dtui’s shed. It was latticed banana leaf with gaps at the corners and between the sheets. Lao workmen had a knack for making the temporary look temporary. There was a shared bathroom at one end of the row.
On the floor in the center of the hut’s only room, there were two unrolled mattresses with a large woman on each. Dtui was one of them. She was reading a Thai magazine.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Dtui and her mother looked up in surprise to see the doctor at the door, but it was only Dtui who sprang to her feet. She appeared to be devastated that Siri was seeing the conditions she lived in. She didn’t say anything at first, perhaps waiting for her boss to complain about her absence from work. But he didn’t speak.
“Ma, this is Doctor Siri.”
The old lady was lethargic and slow to focus on him. She obviously couldn’t move from where she lay. “Good health, Doctor. Sorry I can’t get up.”
“Ma’s got cirrhosis. I told you about it.”
“Yes. Good health, Mrs. Vongheuan.” It seemed peculiar to be wishing good health to a woman who was clearly not healthy at all. But such was the national greeting. The woman had been ill for years from a liver fluke she had picked up in the north.
Dtui took hold of the doctor’s arm and led him outside. Knickerless toddlers ran amok and rolled in the dust. A dog growled instinctively when Siri passed it. Dtui led him up toward the stadium wall where there were no neighbors to overhear. Siri had an apology prepared, but she beat him to it.
“I’m sorry, Doc. I was up all night with Ma. I didn’t mean to lose it. I was….”
“I just came by to ask you if you’d do me the honor of being my apprentice at the morgue.”
“Ah, no. You’re just saying that because I went nutty. You don’t have to do—”
“I’m serious. I was thinking about it just before I rode your bicycle into the wall of the Presidential Palace.”
“You…?”
“I think you need to get those brakes looked at.”
“I never go fast enough to need brakes. Did you really…?”
“It’s downhill all the way from That Luang, and it didn’t occur to me to check the brakes before I set off. I shot through the center of the Anusawari Arch, and I was traveling at about 120 kilometers an hour by the time I passed the post office. It was a bit of a blur.”
“Doctor.”
“I confess I didn’t actually crash into the palace. But that was only thanks to the poor man selling brooms and brushes beside the road. I decided he’d be much softer than the wall. We both came out of it quite well: I didn’t break anything, and he sold three brooms to the morgue.”
“And the bike?”
“The Chinese aren’t very good at making shoes, but they put together bicycles you couldn’t destroy with mortar fire. So will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Be my apprentice.”
“You’re damn right I will.”
“Good. Before I leave, I may as well take a look at your mother.”
“You fancy her?”
“The cirrhosis, girl. The cirrhosis.”
On Wednesday, Siri was the first one at work again. As if Geung weren’t confused enough already, he walked out back to the furnace to find his boss on his hands and knees in the concrete trough, putting dead cockroaches into a jar.
“Morning, Mr. Geung. Any new customers today?”
“No new customers today, Dr. Comrade.” Geung laughed but stood watching Siri. “That…that’s dirty.
“Mr. Geung?”
He didn’t look back.
Siri had never been to Dtui’s place. It was tucked behind the national stadium in a row of shanties that housed people who’d come down from the north to help rebuild the country. The huts were supposed to be temporary, but no one had yet been rehoused after almost a year. The senior cadres had priority for the new housing that was being built out in the suburbs. The little cogs would have to wait.
As he had no numbers or names to go by, it took him a while to find Dtui’s shed. It was latticed banana leaf with gaps at the corners and between the sheets. Lao workmen had a knack for making the temporary look temporary. There was a shared bathroom at one end of the row.
On the floor in the center of the hut’s only room, there were two unrolled mattresses with a large woman on each. Dtui was one of them. She was reading a Thai magazine.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Dtui and her mother looked up in surprise to see the doctor at the door, but it was only Dtui who sprang to her feet. She appeared to be devastated that Siri was seeing the conditions she lived in. She didn’t say anything at first, perhaps waiting for her boss to complain about her absence from work. But he didn’t speak.
“Ma, this is Doctor Siri.”
The old lady was lethargic and slow to focus on him. She obviously couldn’t move from where she lay. “Good health, Doctor. Sorry I can’t get up.”
“Ma’s got cirrhosis. I told you about it.”
“Yes. Good health, Mrs. Vongheuan.” It seemed peculiar to be wishing good health to a woman who was clearly not healthy at all. But such was the national greeting. The woman had been ill for years from a liver fluke she had picked up in the north.
Dtui took hold of the doctor’s arm and led him outside. Knickerless toddlers ran amok and rolled in the dust. A dog growled instinctively when Siri passed it. Dtui led him up toward the stadium wall where there were no neighbors to overhear. Siri had an apology prepared, but she beat him to it.
“I’m sorry, Doc. I was up all night with Ma. I didn’t mean to lose it. I was….”
“I just came by to ask you if you’d do me the honor of being my apprentice at the morgue.”
“Ah, no. You’re just saying that because I went nutty. You don’t have to do—”
“I’m serious. I was thinking about it just before I rode your bicycle into the wall of the Presidential Palace.”
“You…?”
“I think you need to get those brakes looked at.”
“I never go fast enough to need brakes. Did you really…?”
“It’s downhill all the way from That Luang, and it didn’t occur to me to check the brakes before I set off. I shot through the center of the Anusawari Arch, and I was traveling at about 120 kilometers an hour by the time I passed the post office. It was a bit of a blur.”
“Doctor.”
“I confess I didn’t actually crash into the palace. But that was only thanks to the poor man selling brooms and brushes beside the road. I decided he’d be much softer than the wall. We both came out of it quite well: I didn’t break anything, and he sold three brooms to the morgue.”
“And the bike?”
“The Chinese aren’t very good at making shoes, but they put together bicycles you couldn’t destroy with mortar fire. So will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Be my apprentice.”
“You’re damn right I will.”
“Good. Before I leave, I may as well take a look at your mother.”
“You fancy her?”
“The cirrhosis, girl. The cirrhosis.”
On Wednesday, Siri was the first one at work again. As if Geung weren’t confused enough already, he walked out back to the furnace to find his boss on his hands and knees in the concrete trough, putting dead cockroaches into a jar.
“Morning, Mr. Geung. Any new customers today?”
“No new customers today, Dr. Comrade.” Geung laughed but stood watching Siri. “That…that’s dirty.
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