A Turtle’s Darkness

A short dark story, set in Thailand

‘HEY, HEY, GET some help, look, there’s a kid in the water. Come on, move.’ Liam screamed at anyone within hearing. He splashed deeper towards the small bundle of clothing bobbing on the waves. The water was now shoulder-deep; he dived and popped up, raising his arms and the child out of the sea. The smell hit him, but he held on and forced his way back to the beach. Tourists and locals backed away as he laid the rotting package face down in the sand. Looking for and expecting some help, nothing came. He turned the child.

‘Oh, my God, she’s dead.’

Her lips and nose had been chewed away. Eye sockets are empty. Liam was sick. Last night's beer and this morning's rice soup missed the dead body. Still, nobody came to his aid. He rolled over and lay panting, looking at the cloudless sky and cried.

‘Sir, come away. Let the locals deal with the baby.’ Then the woman was talking on her mobile. She bent and peered into his teary eyes. ‘There is nothing you can do.’

As she aided him to a sandy deckchair, the restaurant owner sneered as she signalled for two beers. Served without a word. They both gulped mouthfuls from their bottles. Liam untied his bun and released his golden locks to his shoulders.

‘What a way to meet?’ she said with a smile.

‘I, I, I’ve never seen a dead body. Especially a young one, like that poor girl.’

‘I’m Noy. I live up there, near this beach.’ She pointed.

‘Hi, I’m Liam, I’m from London. Pleased to meet you.’ He held out his hand, which she took after a hasty “wai”.

Two men arrived with a stretcher. One held his nose, the other rolled the girl across. Both had comments as they walked past. ‘What did they say?’ asked Liam.

‘Oh, nothing for you to worry about.’

‘Thank you, whatever.’

‘You can get the bill for the beer,’ Noy laughed. ‘Here is my number, if you have any more weird experiences.’ With that, she disappeared into the hills behind.

Liam clambered back to his hostel.

‘Good afternoon,’ he waved at the normally chatty reception girl. She ducked beneath her desk. He spun his key as he reached his door. ‘Strange, no change of sweaty sheets? Must be a day off.’ He grinned as he flopped on the bed, desperate for a nap.

Waking and sweating, he checked his air-con. ‘Twenty degrees, it feels boiling.’ His wet beach shorts housed an almost-forgotten scrap of paper; he unfolded it and laid it on the desk to dry. He had a cold shower.

‘Should I or not?’ he tapped the number into his phone. Deciding against connecting the call, he went to the reception to order a snack.

‘Leave Khun Noy alone. She is trouble,’ said the receptionist.

‘What? I was about to order food. But what do you mean?’

‘Her family were early settlers to live on Koh Tao before it became popular with divers and beach-lovers.’

‘So?’

‘They have odd beliefs. Now what do you want to eat?’

Liam carried his scuba gear to a recommended beach, where turtles were parading up and down the sand, but no tourists. Quiet.

’This is more like it.’ A deep breath as he splashed ahead, ducking between car-sized rocks, and hitting the water, he floated, trying to shake the memory of the little girl’s mangled face. He lifted his head, shook his hair, and heard a mumbling. He ducked behind a rock and tried to see what made the noise. He floated silently, staring ahead, and kept as low as possible.

‘Are they men?’ he asked himself. ‘Masks? Shark masks? Fish faces? And what have they got? Oh, no!’

One mask lifted and turned in Liam’s direction; he ducked below the water. Staying under and slowly bending and dragging the snorkel lower and out of sight. Under the waves, Liam made his way behind the rocks. Reaching the beach, he ran up to the road. Panting, he removed his unfish-like mask and peered behind him. It was clear. Turning once more, he jumped.

‘Noy, what a surprise.’

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. It is only me.’

Liam coughed a laugh and once more checked back towards the beach. ’Are they following me?’

‘Who? What are you talking about?’

‘It’s just… come on, I need a drink.’

‘You haven’t been to my place, have you?’

They walked a few steps off the road and climbed a rocky incline. Ahead was a wooden home.

‘Welcome, come in.’

‘Wow. I didn’t expect this, I mean, from the outside,’ said Liam.

‘Yes, first sights can be deceptive. How about a homemade jungle drink?’

‘You are a woman full of surprises.’

A foot-high bamboo pole was placed in his hand. ‘Drink it slowly.’

The fruity green juice slid down easily. The talk flowed.

‘There were a gang of people in the sea, I think all men. And all wearing odd masks. They were chanting and lifted what looked like a bundle of clothes up and down—ducking it deeper and deeper into the waves. Then one of them spotted me. And I split. What were they doing? Not drowning a child? Please tell me they weren’t killing an innocent. Like the one I found floating?’

Noy looked around and studied the old, torn black-and-white photos stuck to the walls. She picked a few and handed them to Liam.

‘Before the Second World War, my family lived here. There were few people on Koh Tao then. Then the Government turned the island into a prison. Imagine living in a prison when you had done nothing illegal. The men in my family were fishermen, so owning a boat was attractive to the prisoners. My great-great-grandparents were imprisoned for aiding the prisoners. Half the people on the island got malaria. But not my folks, they drank what you just enjoyed.’

‘Then after the War, they stayed here?’

‘Yes, no longer a prison island and people started moving here. Even then, the number of tourists increased.’

‘And now it is heaven for divers. But what about those guys?’

‘Another time, another place, maybe I’ll tell you. Off to your room, you’ll need a nap,’ she said as she guided him to the road.

‘Did I dream that?’ Liam said as he rubbed his eyes. ‘Christ, it’s eight pm.’

Sitting up and flopping his legs onto the floor. He felt fantastic, fit and wide awake, and then he spotted a piece of paper tucked under his door.

‘What the hell is all this?’ he muttered as he studied the Thai writing.

He sat at the beachside bar. ‘Excuse me, I’ll have a Leo, and what does this say?’

He passed his scrap of paper to the barman. Who reads: “ระวังไว้! เธอเป็นแม่มด (Rao-wang wai! Thoe pen mae mod)“

‘Yeah, okay, what does it mean?’

‘Watch out. She is a witch.’

That evening’s second beer went down thoughtfully. ‘Do they mean Noy? Shall I call her?’

After his long nap, he was far from tired, so he decided to go for a walk. A clapped-out scooter tooted as it passed him, and then a taxi driver waved at him from the other direction. He jumped off the road and climbed up towards Noy’s home. Lights were gleaming, and noise like a children’s party spilt down the slope.

Liam inched nearer. A face appeared between the bushes. ‘Come in.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you and your guests.’

‘There is nobody here.’

‘But I heard…’

‘I was worshipping my ancestors.’

‘Oh, but I heard children.’

‘Really? You heard them?’

‘Yes, it sounded like quite a party.’

The almost empty room boasted scented candles and scattered cushions. ‘Sit,’ she said.

‘I got a warning today. Are you a witch?’

‘The tourist trade workers believe so. But not the “old hands”, they ask me for certain advice.’

‘And the little girl who died? And those men are possibly drowning another child? Is that part of your advice?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Why would anyone kill a little innocent?’

‘Who says they are killing the children? Is it not possible that the children are already dead?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘The early settlers, including all my family before me right up to now, have never suffered from any disease. Those who arrive on the island later get sick the usual way. From malaria, Yellow Fever, TB, through to AIDS, all the same illnesses as other folk from around the world, but they imagine we hold onto secrets.’

‘So what are they doing?’

She filled his bamboo vessels, ‘Drink up.’ She went to the outdoor kitchen and returned with a jug full of green liquid.

‘To answer your question, they are hoping for a miracle.’

‘So, nothing to do with your witchcraft?’

She laughed, ‘Quite the opposite.’ She leant across and filled the bamboo once more.

‘What are you giving me, and why aren’t you having any?’

‘That drink is for your own good. You will thank me.’

His eyelids drooped. ‘What have you done?’ She gently laid him back on the cushions and stared out of her window, alert to any noise.

He awoke to find a steaming bowl of spicy soup.

‘Thank you. What happened to me?’

‘My guess is you’ve had a few visitors since you arrived on the island?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Would I be correct in thinking, you’ve made a few girlfriends here?’

‘Well, yeah, I suppose so.’

‘In Bangkok, Pattaya or Phuket, you would expect to pay for these… er, friendships?’

‘Sometimes yes.’

‘But here, nobody asks for payment?’

‘I wondered why. But didn’t ask…’ his giggle was like a schoolboy stealing an apple.

The shouting outside grew louder: ‘Liam, Liam, Liam!’

‘I was dreading this. Drink some more juice.’ She rushed to find her trusty bamboo.

The front door was shaken from its hinges. Liam was grabbed and marched out. Noy’s swearing was ignored.

The Londoner was locked into a bedroom. His panic was overcome by tiredness. When he woke, a scantily dressed girl was massaging him, gently, then vigorously. She sat on him until he finished. Then another girl came and went. One after another, Liam collapsed, exhausted, begging for relief.

‘Get in the shower, dress, then follow me home.’ Noy was not smiling.

The bamboo juice holder was nowhere to be seen; instead, a large beer and two glasses were presented to him. He poured and gulped.

‘What happened?’

‘They need a ginger-haired baby for their black magic. You were to be the father.’

‘But why?’

‘Because they believe ginger-haired kids can cure all their illnesses.’

‘Does it work?’

‘It would. But the drink I gave you makes you infertile.’

She roared and laughed until tears dripped into her beer.

The END

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