The Gambler

Mook left his motorcycle at the bottom of the soi and walked the last fifty meters to his house. His dog Yoo Yee met him in the yard and he made a fuss over her until she stopped whining. When she crept back into her nest under the stoop he took out his key and slid it softly into the lock. It had long been his practice to spray silicone on the mechanism, and the key turned without a sound. The door's hinges had been similarly treated and he entered his house silently.

The fluorescent hands of the cheap wall clock told him that it was three o'clock in the morning, but he didn't hurry. The card game in the back room of Ba Leang's store would continue until dawn, and undue haste at this point would wake his wife and rob him of the the chance to enjoy the luck he felt in his bones. He placed his motorcycle helmet on the floor and stripped off the red vest which was his badge of office as a motorcycle-taxi driver. He slid out of his shirt and trousers; the reek of exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke which clung to his clothes would be sure to wake his wife if he wore them into the bedroom.

In his underwear he crossed his living room and went down the hall. He moved slowly and didn't turn on any lights. The room was almost bare of furniture, but there were warped boards in the floor, and the smallest creak would sound like a scream in the silent house. In the army Mook had learned how to move quietly through the jungle at night, and now he placed his feet as he had been taught, slowly putting his weight on the leading foot before sliding the back foot forward. At the slightest shift in the wood beneath his foot he would rock back and slide the foot forward onto a firmer board. In this way he made his way down the hall to where two doors opened left and right. One led to the kitchen, the other to the house's single bedroom.

Over the window at the top of the hall was a Buddha shrine, and Mook stopped a moment to offer up a prayer. He did not pray for luck in the card game, but asked only that he make it into and out of his bedroom without waking his wife. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly to the right. It moved without noise or resistance and Mook grinned in the darkness. He congratulated himself that the 49 baht he'd spent on the bottle of silicone spray was the best investment he'd made in his life. He eased the door open and slid inside the bedroom.

The last time Mook had wanted to play cards he'd come home and taken the floor fans, so it was hot in the bedroom and the window was open to let in the breeze. The moonlight coming in through this window made everything look blue, and Mook knew that he would need this submarine light to find what he'd come for. Once again he began his shuffle-slide advance, moving slowly and with infinite care toward where he could see Namfon sleeping on her mat.

The room was only ten feet wide, but it was nearly ten minutes before Mook had crossed the space and was kneeling beside Namfon. Through the white gauze of the mosquito net he could see the thin gold chains gleaming at her wrists and throat, and he fought the urge to simply grab them, yank hard and run. He had been a temple boy in his youth, and the monks had taught him how to control his breathing and heartbeat. Mook rested on his knees in the moonlight until he felt more clam, then he slowly slid his hands beneath the mosquito net.

Namfon was sleeping on her back, her mouth wide open and both arms flung up over her head. Her thin black hair fanned out over her pillow and her bangs spilled across her closed eyelids. She was coming off a bout of influenza and her breathing sounded wet and irregular. Mook reached for the chain around her right wrist and in just a few seconds he had the chain in his hands. Since he had no pockets, he put the chain in his mouth before starting to work on the other wrist. In a moment he had both chains in his mouth, and as thin as they were, they had a very satisfying weight on his tongue.

The chain around Namfon's neck was twisted so that the clasp was in front, laying on her right shoulder, and Mook considered this bit of luck verification that he was meant to go out and play cards tonight. He bent open the soft metal of the clasp and then slid one hand under Namfon's pillow, easing her head up a fraction of an inch and sliding the chain, with its tiny image of Phuket's patron saint Luang Por Chem, under her neck and out of the mosquito net. He put her head down gently, with love, and then carefully tucked the edge of the mosquito net back under her mat.

Mook opened his mouth and added the bracelets to the necklace in his hand. He looked at them in the moonlight coming in the window. They weren't much, in fact they were the smallest chains that the gold shop sold, but they would be enough to take him into the card game, and he felt very, very lucky tonight. He stood up and as he did so he heard Yoo Yee barking violently at something outside in the soi. He froze and looked over his shoulder to where his wife Pui was sleeping on their bed.

She muttered and rolled over in her sleep, but she didn't wake up. Once again Mook grinned to himself in the dark, and then he moved his lips in a silent curse aimed at his wife. She thought she was so smart, putting her savings around the baby's wrists instead of her own, but he'd shown her. Mook moved toward the door, more confidently now and less concerned about noise, eager to see how much luck his daughter's gold would bring him in the card game.

© Steve Rosse. All rights reserved by the author.

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If you enjoyed this short story by Steve Rosse you can read more of his work by purchasing his books, 'Thai Vignettes' and 'Expat Days' online at BangkokBooks.com. Here's the direct links to each for easy purchase.

Thai Vignettes: http://www.bangkokbooks.com/php/product/product.php?product_id=000025&sub_cate_name=&sub_cate_id=

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