Snowed-In

Thais and snow do not mix. Dark short story.

'YOU HAVE GOT to be joking?'

'No, I mean it, we are stuck.' 

'You are telling me I've travelled all this way. I bought loads of clothes, learned how to ski, used up two weeks of my holiday time, and now we are stuck in this room?'

'It is not a room. It is a chalet.'

'Whatever. I would rather be working in my air-conned office than stuck in ice and snow.' He had plans when they returned.

Beam was far from beaming. She grew up in Bangkok and finally gained a degree in accounting. Her father promised her a holiday anywhere Beam fancied. She could go with any female friend she wanted. Daddy would pay. 

'But not that "falang" boyfriend.' Her father made her swear an oath at the temple. 

Beam begged her friend to play along and to keep their secret, and she went with the "falang".

The foreign boyfriend was Chris. Chris didn't like snow or cold. He came from London, where there was not much snow, but it was chilly enough to make him love the steamy heat of Thailand.

They booked a flight to Tokyo and drove to Niseko. The chalet had a marvellous view of Mount Fuji. Chris even enjoyed sushi and saki on their first evening. The following morning was a struggle; neither wanted to move. Hangovers rendered the slopes unemployed, at least by Beam and Chris.

Beam stirred; the hot shower made her feel human again until the front door would not open.

It was frozen, and snow had drifted up the door. Chris turned over and snored.

Beam tried to free the wooden door. Then she tried to shift Chris.

'Have we got any coffee?' he asked.

She shuffled to the kitchenette. 

'Was that you?' she called.

'What?'

'Did you throw something at me?'

'Of course not; I don't want you to spill my coffee,' he smiled.

'Well, you missed.'

'I threw nothing.'

'I felt it,' she said.

'What was it?'

'I don't know; it's gone now.'

Beam busied herself, clearing the glasses from last night, mopping around the sink, and finishing a half-eaten biscuit.

'What are you doing? It's not funny,' she said.

'I'm enjoying the wonderful drink you gave me, nothing else. Except thinking what we are going to do today.'

'If you keep that up, we won't be doing anything. You know what I mean.'

'I don't know what you are talking about,' said Chris as he slurped the remains of his cup.

'A joke's a joke. Okay, it's not funny anymore,' said Beam, glaring at him.

Chris forced himself up and took a few steps to his girlfriend; she screamed and bent double.

'What's the matter?'

'That hurt.' She clutched her calf muscle and rolled her tracksuit trousers.

'Christ, you're bleeding. How did you do that?' Chris asked.

'I didn't do it, you idiot.'

'Neither did I.'

'I believe you, but something did.'

Chris leaned closer, 'God, how in hell?'

'What is it?'

'The back of your calf… has been sliced. Little cuts, one above the other. What could have done that?'

'I don't know, but it hurts like paper cuts on your fingers.'

'Do we have a first aid box? You had better disinfect your calf.'

He started opening and closing cupboards. Slam, slam, slam. 'Nothing, I'll look in the bathroom.'

He heard a whimper. 'Hold on, I've found something,' he rushed to the main room.

The Beam was flat out, face down, with her legs bent. Both calves were now streaming with thick red goo.

'Rub that on the wounds; I will find help.'

'What is it? The writing is Japanese.'

'I don't know, smell it.'

Chris turned the door handle. It was still frozen solid. He shook and rattled the brass; it did not budge. Nothing. He tapped the glass, then hit it harder. There was no sign of life except folk carrying skis to the slopes.

Grabbing the phone, no dial tone. Chris slammed it into the wall.

He looked in at Beam before deciding whether to break a window.

She had pulled off her leggings. The cuts now reached her the back of her knees. 

'Christ, it is like someone is nicking your skin with a razor. I can see it happening, one flick after another.'

'Stop it!' She screamed. Blood was gushing down her legs.

Chris picked up a vase and checked its weight.

'That will do,' he mumbled as he hurled it at the door-side window.

The chunky pottery shattered and fell back onto the carpeting. The glass is still in one piece.

He ran and picked up the granite chopping board. He was swinging with all his might. The stone bounced back.

Beam screamed as her hamstrings sliced open.

A helpless Chris pulled his hair, tears running down his cheeks.

'What can I do?'

Beam's fear was beyond words; she was shaking, dribbling, quaking in pain. Chris ran from the door to each pane of glass. Then, hammering, thumping, and finally screaming as he collapsed, he rolled up to Beam. She was still.

He felt the first knick at the back of his calf. Then another.

At Mae Sapok Village in northern Thailand, Beam's father rested after an eleven-hour drive. He dozed as his elderly brother lifted his legs onto a stool.

'There, there, dear brother. I know you have worries. First, rest, then we will meet the "Mor Duu". He will fix everything.'

 A cup of black tea was at his side when he awoke.

'Are you ready, brother?'

'I'm still dozy, but let's complete this task. Then my life can return to normal,' he said, wiping his sweaty face with a cloth.

'Thank Buddha, she is not with him, nowhere near him.'

They climbed into the rusting hulk of a truck and chugged for twenty minutes to a shanty in the forest.

'My friends, I have been expecting you,' the "seeing doctor" said. His room was dark but cool. He counted the folding money and stashed it with a heap of banknotes.

'Have you bought what I mentioned?'

Beam's father handed over a carrier bag of Chris' belongings. In one pocket was an engagement ring. The local thief accepted the task of stealing the ring but was surprised he also had to return it at a later date. After her Japanese holiday with her best friend, his daughter and Chris were to be engaged. Beam's father discovered the engagement plan. And could not allow it.

'She is out of the country; does that help?'

'It doesn't matter where she is as long as she is not near him,' answered the witch doctor.

Incense was burning, candles flickered, and the chanting began. Beam's father was nodding, fighting to stay awake. Her uncle signalled the witch doctor to continue. He danced, waving a razor over and around his head. Then he sliced his calf—one leg than the other. There was no blood. The cuts opened and then healed immediately.

A pair of Chris' shorts were dipped in inflammable fluid and torched; other items met the same fate. 

Beam's dad struggled to open his eyes.

'The ring?' he asked. 'Have you dealt with the ring?'

The uncle and the "doctor" looked at each other.

'We thought you took the ring before he gave it to her, and she never saw it?'

'Of course, she has seen it. She chose it.'

'Oh, we had better hope she is not anywhere near him. We only added it to double the power. But, no worries, they are apart.'

The END

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