That was his father! Tay clutched his damaged belly as a spontaneous laugh burst forth. "Dad! Don't make me laugh. It hurts." He could hear the change in his father's tone almost immediately. His breathing steadied, the words became even, slower.
"Boy, I listened to that, ahem, courier, when he said not to come even though your mother has been worried sick. If I hadn't been getting daily updates and pictures, we would be on a plane right now, and taking you with us. Talk." A shiver went down Tay's spine. It didn't matter that he was over 30 years old. His dad had the power to follow through with his threat.
As the silence dragged, his dad got impatient. "Boy! You called me. What is it?"
"Dad, I think we need some help. Your type of help." He hesitated because things never went well when people found out that his dad was THE Special Investigator appointed by the Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Thailand. When he was younger, and much stupider, he was proud of position his father held, only to hear others calling him a paid snitch.
"My type? What the fuck have you gotten mixed up in?" Now, all he heard was curiosity.
"I'm not sure. I know it involves the police, drugs, a minister in the government and..." here he hesitated, knowing this wasn't the best way to come out to his dad. Finally, he bit the bullet because, well, there probably wasn't any better time. "A guy who was stalking my boyfriend."
"I'm getting on a plane," There was a pause, "In 30 minutes. I'll arrive in two hours. Have one of the couriers pick me up at the airport." Dad paused. "Tay, stay calm. We'll talk when I get there."
"Tell mom I love her, miss her and I'm fine." Now, it was time to call the monk. He wasn't sure why this call was harder than the first, but his hand trembled. Needing time, Tay took in a deep breath and waved the guard over. "Send a courier over to pick up my dad at the airport. He'll be here in two hours."
"Sir? Does... Yes, Sir." The guard went back to the door and opened it slightly, quietly whispering, glancing at Tay, tossing the satellite phone from hand to hand. He walked back to the cot, "Sir, Tam will be in to have a word." He gave a brief nod of his head and returned to his post.
Very, very few people knew that he had chosen to be an ordained monk, when he turned 25. Tay finally dialed the number of the Abbot or Ajahn. When he answered, Tay simply said, "I need help."
"Your karma is disturbed, my son." The elderly Ajahn sighed. "What do you need from me?"
"I'm not sure..." Tay hesitated. "Forgiveness? A lesson in jealousy? Comfort?"
There was a different note in the Ajahn's voice now, albeit it very subtle. "My son, when you left us, did I not thoroughly explain to you the need to separate your professional life and personal one? You can not ignore the needs of one to absorb the pressures of the other as you were doing. Forgiveness and jealousy are normal in any relationship. One heart does not rule over the other, but lives in tandem with each other. It's alright to be in love, my son."
How does he do this? A flush crept up Tay's neck, subtly darkening his skin. He wanted to protest that he wasn't in love, but just the question gave it away. "Ajahn... I don't know how to communicate with him. I just make it worse."
"My child, stop using your head and listen to your heart. When you love with your heart, let it speak, not your head." The Ajahn coughed. "And son, don't forget to pray."
Disconnecting the call, the phone slipped from his hands as Tay considered his words. He clasped his hands in front of him and for the first time in a long time, he actually prayed from the heart, rather than just from memory. "May all be free from sorrow and the causes of sorrow; May all never be separated from the sacred happiness which is sorrowless; And may all live in equanimity, without too much attachment and too much aversion, And live believing in the equality of all that lives."
Then, to the traditional prayer, he added, "Help me see clearly with my heart, what my stubborn head has blocked." Even being ordained, the path wasn't always clear. He took a deep breath, ignored the pain from his injuries and chanted, feeling the energy flow through him.
He took no notice of the guard looking startled at him from the door as the chanting in the room rose, as his prayer took wings and filled the hospital room, or how long it began to last. He never even noticed when Tam entered the room, waited for a while then left, so lost in the prayer.
Finally, Tay felt at peace. No, that wasn't it. He was peaceful for the first time in months. He opened his eyes and his weary arms dropped back to the bed, sore and tired. "Well, son, this is a very interesting mess you've gotten mixed up in. It's a good thing you finally had the brains to involve me."
Looking over, Tay saw his dad working on a laptop, suit jacket tossed to one side He took the criticism as it was intended - lighthearted. "Mm. It was just a stalker case, Dad."
"Mm. I'd hug you but I am pretty sure it would hurt." His father's lips twitched. "So... you're a slow, slightly dumb guy, huh? Have them all fooled, boy?" He tapped the surveillance folder from Tam. "Very impressive, want to come and work for me? It pays more."
"Hell NO!" Tay shifted, trying to ease the stiffness of his shoulder of praying for so long. "Can you explain exactly what is going on? To be honest, I don't understand and NO ONE is telling me a damn thing."
Shrugging, "I don't see why not, but it's incomplete. Why not wait until the last piece is done." His dad looked at his watch and gave a slightly evil grin, at least that's how Tay used to call them growing up. He could tell how much trouble he was in by the type of grin. "We are cracking encryption right now." It wasn't we, but Dad and his software. Tay gave a short nod in agreement.
"While we wait, son, why don't you tell me about your 'friend.'" Tay felt the flush grow. Well, that explained the smile... "I'm very interested in finding out who managed to capture your interest."
~~~~~~~~~~
New picked himself up off the floor, stiff and cold, the album clenched in his hand. He slowly walked over to his bag and carefully placed it back in before slumping down on to the bed. He could feel it like, the weight of everything he didn't want to deal with, crushing him, crushing his mind, his body, his ability to function.
His desire to move forward... He glanced again at the bag, where the album was, and various promises he made, to all different people flashed through his mind. "I am better. I am doing better." He rubbed his wrist unwittingly, looking at nothing. "I am..."
So lost in thought, he missed the light tap #3 used before flipping back the blackout curtain. "Sir?" #3 had been with New far too long to miss any of his warning signs. Taking a deep breath, #3 crossed a line he usually didn't dare. This wasn't the time for New to implode or explode.
Carefully, he sat down next to the younger man, and simply picked him up as if he weighed nothing, drawing him into his lap. Once there, New turned his head into his body armour, hiding his face and actually snuggled in. #3 pursed his lips, tightening them. "Go ahead, Sir, let it out, but quietly. We don't have any privacy."
With this, New began to cry, his whole body shook. Slowly, methodically, #3 patted his back, not with any comfort, nor any love, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. Finally, New sniffed, all cried out. With a hoarse throat, he whispered, "Three? Why doesn't anyone want the real me?"
Oh... shit. #3 continued to pat his back, giving himself time to think. He needed to ask for a raise, damn it. Counsellor wasn't part of his paygrade, only keeping the client alive. "Sir," He paused, then continued, "New, how many people know who the real you is? Your family? Tay? The Tams? What are we doing if it isn't all for you?"
New shook his head, disagreeing with him. "Tay only got involved because he is taking responsibility. My family is using me." He pushed his way of the bodyguard's lap, wiping the last of the tears of his face. "I pay the Tam's to help me. Even you are here because you are paid a salary."
"No one is next to me because they want to be." New stood up and closed his eyes. "I'm tired, #3, I want to sleep. Go away."
"No. I'm on shift now. Lay down and sleep. I'll be over there." He pointed to the spot where you entered the space reserved for New. As #3 walked over there and did a neat about turn, New had already crawled onto the cot, pulled the covers over his head, but he could see the boy still shivering. Silently, #3 swore to himself. He used to be glad when the depressive episodes hit, they were easier to manage than the highs...
Now, he was just plain worried. New looked like it was the end of the world and he wanted to end it all too. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Tam. This wasn't his problem, no sir, not his problem. His job was to keep his client alive.
Why did he want to kill Tay Tawan for calling the boy a whore? Why was he mad at himself for flirting? He began to do some deep breathing exercises, calming himself. These two men, men, he slowly reminded himself, not boys, had the right and dignity to work out their issues - alone.
"Sir? I'm sorry." #3 sighed aloud. "I'll explain to the other client as well. Rest well." He turned and faced the curtain.
"Don't bother." New's voice was faded, buried deep within a cocoon. "Why would he still care about anything that has to do with me?"
Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuck. All the signs of a bad episode... #3 sighed again. Perhaps this was for the best. His nose twitched. Reports never gave a full picture and maybe it was time for the boss to witness for himself exactly what being this particular client's personal bodyguard for the past six years have been like.