Read Online The Sick Horror at The Lost and Found by Heidi King - Free Book Online Page B

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Living .
    Andrew saved his money with the goal
of buying a little plot of land in Costa Rica. The idea was to
teach a little and then build a beach shack, teach a little more
and build something more. I was looking at offshore stock brokers,
and Panama, with all its banks, came up frequently. Somehow, we met
in the middle. I decided land was a better investment, and I sold
Andrew on teaming up and investing ahead of the curve in Panama.
Land values were set to rise with the increasing arrival of
retiring Americans who like that Panama uses the US dollar, is
cheap and is close to home. We made a loose plan to meet up in
Panama, not really believing the other would actually show
up.
    In fact, I myself didn’t know if I
would turn up or not until a couple of months after I left Korea.
What helped me make up my mind had been following me for years
until it sat neatly in a chest of drawers near the beer fridge at
The Lost and Found. It was a red rain jacket that my girlfriend
gave to me when we said goodbye at the Ataturk International
Airport in Istanbul. I left the girl that might have been ‘the one’
for the security of a high paying job in Korea and the freedom
money could give. I promised to return one day with the jacket.
What I really wanted to do was return to her once I had banked
money. But she met another teacher like me, and although they broke
up for a time when he was faced with my very same dilemma, they
reunited again. They now have a lovely family. I have the red
jacket.
    The red jacket stayed with me in
Korea. I led an uneventful life, teaching every over time hour and
dreaming about sitting in front of the 7-11 on Khao San Road in
Bangkok with a cold Singa beer. After nearly four years of
teaching, I gave away most of my belongings and brought my jacket
to Koh Lanta, in Thailand. On December 26th, 2004, I got up
unusually early to buy shaving cream. I noticed a big commotion
down by the beach, so I walked down and saw Thai kids running down
to the receding shoreline to throw flapping fish back into ocean.
Scuba divers shouted frantically, dropping their weight belts and
flippers and running in the opposite direction.
    The Asian Tsunami of 2004 didn’t kill
so many on my island, but it did destroy my bungalow. The few
things I did salvage were stolen the next morning from a garbage
bag I had with me when I passed out on the side of a rock quarry,
drinking with a biker gang from Germany. But I had my passport and
my bank cards with the money I saved in Korea. And the red
jacket.
    I made it to Khao San Road in Bangkok
and finally did what I had day dreamed about all those hours
teaching Korean kids… drinking Singa and doing nothing. There was
nothing on my ‘to do’ list. Freedom…. Just another word for nothing
left to lose. Now what?
    I thought back a few days to a moment
on the side of the rock quarry on KohLanta. I was with about eighty
other tourists who fled from the waves. From where I was standing,
I saw no death or serious injury. So I was talking cheerfully with
other tourists, exchanging stories and emails for photos. But then
one lone tourist drove up to us on a mini-bike and shut his engine
off. He searched our faces and shouted, “Veronica! Veronica!” The
tourists looked at one another but no one named Veronica called
out. And he drove off.
    Freedom, standard of living, security.
Choose two.
    I had all the freedom in the world but
no one looking for me. No hockey trophies sitting under a bed
somewhere. A bank account, a few Myspace friends and the jacket. I
wanted to go somewhere for a change, someplace where the faces of
the people I met would not be all just one big blur after I said
goodbye. I didn’t want to choose a country just for the money. I
wanted a place of my own, a place to set up and call home. I wanted
more than just the jacket. The list of places where you can buy
land and own a