Oliver Benjamin
they disappeared and I was all alone on the lawn of my junior high
school. It suddenly grew very dark outside and an sudden
unexplainable terror made me run home screaming. When I arrived
at home, my parents informed me that I was grounded for failing to
grow up. When I asked them how long I was grounded for, my father
replied laughing, “Oh, ten years or twenty thousand miles.”
“I’ll take the twenty thousand miles,” I cried, then ran out the
door, down the street that led to the sea.
I opened my eyes to find myself naked on a table surrounded by red
velvet, the used condom still attached. Nok had disappeared, but that
wasn’t the only thing. After a quick check of my pockets, I found that
she’d swiped all my cash as well.
When I raced downstairs, I found the nightclub almost empty
and Oscar unconscious in the corner. After dumping a glass of water
on his head, he informed me that the same thing happened to him,
only worse.
“At least you came,” he said, “I passed out within the first five
minutes.”
We trudged home humiliated, still woozy from the drug they’d
secretly administered, and considerably poorer. Oscar tried to lift my
spirits.
“Look on the bright side,” he said, “at least we probably didn’t
get AIDS.”
When I tried to laugh it came out as a dry choke. I pounded on
my chest, not to clear a passageway but to push something back
down.
CHAPTER 10
We gave up on Patpong. After a little research, I discovered a suitable
alternative to high-priced debauchery. Namely, free debauchery.
Samrin Island, the place Greta had mentioned. Some considered it
the twenty-four hour party capital of the earth. It was supposed to be
better than the Bermuda Triangle for attracting lost souls and
making sure they stayed lost. Non-stop drinking, drugs, sex,
sunbathing, eating, and for those few really outrageous travelers,
some avenues for spiritual enlightenment. I was for almost all of it,
77
 |
 |
 |
 |