—Yeah. I’ve heard of it. Khao San Road. Let’s go there.
We jumped into a taxi to go to a pier and hopped onto a long boat that arrived spewing black smoke, a ferry that would take us down the river for the affordable price of around 700 won. The ferries must have been an important commuting service, because we saw students in uniforms as well as office workers crowd on with us. Feeling like we were on a cruise, we squeezed into two of the tiny plastic orange seats, our shoulders smashed against each other. The boat shook more than I expected as it started to move, and it pitched forward with a groaning sound. We were only five minutes into our cruise up the river when rain clouds suddenly darkened the sky.
—It’s going to rain? You said it was the dry season.
—I said it was the late rainy season.
—Isn’t that the dry season?
—I guess even the late rainy season is still the rainy season.
—Hey, look over there.
The rain-heavy clouds were approaching swiftly enough for their motion to be perceived with the naked eye, and we were suddenly inside the rain with wind lashing right into the open sides of the boat. The other passengers, apparently used to the situation, got up and unfurled the tarps at the edges of the roof above us. Following their lead, we also rolled down the tarp. And as soon as they were all down, a real deluge began. We could hear the valiant sound of the engine, but the boat refused to move forward. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, and thick strands of rain beat atop the roof of the boat. Rainwater seeped through the edges of the tarp, and it fogged over. We gripped each other’s knees and endured the rocking. The feeling of Gyu-ho’s hot knee in my hand made me feel strangely sleepy. The tossing of the boat didn’t make me anxious at all. I had my hand on his knee until my palm was wet with sweat. Saying his knee was hot, Gyu-ho removed my hand and placed it in his own icy palm. We stopped at two or three more piers, where the passengers crowding the boat almost all disembarked. The rain was still just as strong even by the time our sweaty palms moved onto the cold handrails. We had been planning to get off at the next pier and catch a taxi as soon as the rain let up, but the downpour refused to cease. And the emptier the boat, the rockier the ride became. Gyu-ho said he was feeling nauseous.
We finally decided to get off the boat at the next pier.
—We’re up on land, Gyu-ho, just like you’ve always dreamed of.
—God, I thought I was going to die of seasickness.
We couldn’t wait out the storm underneath an awning at the pier. This was no brief rain but a full-on downpour. There were no shops anywhere that we could see, not even people.
—Oh, Gyu-ho, what are we going to do?
Gyu-ho took my phone and put it along with his own phone inside the red fanny pack he had slung over his shoulder. Then he grabbed my hand. We dashed into the rainy streets. In less than thirty seconds, our clothes were drenched. We wanted to get an umbrella at a convenience store, but there wasn’t so much as a 7-Eleven anywhere. I was running out of breath, my feet were hurting, and I wondered what the point of running was anymore. I begged Gyu-ho to stop, said we should walk, but maybe he didn’t hear me because he kept pulling me along. I couldn’t stand it any longer—I barked at him to go slower. -Gyu-ho turned his surprised-rabbit eyes back toward me. I wanted to smile back, but my face kept crumpling. There was a brief silence between us. Gyu-ho suddenly lay down flat on the pavement.
—What are you doing?
—What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m tired. I’m lying down.
—But why lie down in the middle of the street?
—I used to do this often as a kid, in Seogwipo.
—You used to lie in the street?
—Yeah, I loved lying down flat on the road next to the beach. That was my thing.
—That’s really dangerous. I’m amazed you made it off the island alive. Why would you do that?
—I just liked it. It cooled me down. It was comfortable. I could see the sky, and it felt like it was covering me like a blanket.
—What is this, you’re reciting poetry? Come on, get up.
When I reached for his hand, he grabbed it and pulled me down. I teetered and fell into a sitting position.
—Lie down with me.
Jesus, was he nuts? But when I saw his face—Gyu-ho, who always seemed more at peace than anyone else I knew—my heart melted a little. Well, I was already drenched, after all. So I lay down next to him on the road. The rain kept hitting my eyes, making me squint up at the sky. A sky with a thousand wriggles, like someone had dumped water on a huge piece of paper. Like Gyu-ho and I had covered ourselves with a dirty blanket. He closed his eyes and said:
—I really like this.
—We’re soaked to our underwear, what’s there to like?
—Just you and me being here together. That’s what I like.
3.
Habibi returned late that night. When I opened the door for him, I saw he had a shopping bag in one hand. His usually gray face was a little flushed—he must’ve done some drinking at his evening function. I’d only spent two days with him, but he was beginning to feel like family. Maybe because he actually was a family man, someone used to putting down roots and flowering. The shopping bag contained macarons printed with the Mandarin Oriental Shop logo. Habibi said that I seemed to have enjoyed them and so he bought them for me. Having followed Gyu-ho to all sorts of shops in search of sweet things, I had inadvertently become addicted to sugar myself. Habibi slipped a pink macaron into my mouth. I chewed about half of it and left the rest on the nightstand. When I was with Habibi, I sometimes felt like I was a child, and sometimes a parent. As he took off his trousers, Habibi told me about his day (as if I were interested). The big house in front of the hotel was not a private residence but the British Embassy. They had set up tables in its beautiful English garden, and he had eaten steak, lobster, and scallops with ravioli with the British and Thai bureaucrats. There were to be fireworks in celebration of the peace and prosperity between the two nations, which is why he had rented a room where we could see them. Habibi, in his trunks, went up to the window and pointed to some faraway spot.
—Tonight, we are going to see the most beautiful fireworks in the world.
Fireworks are fireworks, what the hell does he mean by “the most beautiful”? Probably the most expensive. So fucking what?
—It’ll be so loud you won’t be able to sleep. They’re going to set off firecrackers on the street by the embassy.
Everything suddenly seemed unbearable. I went into the bathroom without answering him and began to draw a bath. Even before the tub filled up, I plunged my head into the water. All I could see down there were the shadows rippling on the surface. Everything was calm, the only sound being the water hitting the surface. I liked that. I wished the whole universe would stop turning and pause, just in that moment.