Bulletproof Mascara: A Novel (23 page)

She stared out the window at the silent freeway overpass and yellow street lamps flashing by, listening to the hum of the taxi wheels on pavement. She had been on a plane for sixteen hours and her brain felt as though it might slide out her ear at any moment. High above the freeway a stark white billboard proclaimed
EDEN. PARADISE FOUND
. Busy watching the scenery, she was unprepared when they pulled up in front of a thoroughly modern hotel and she had to scramble after Val.

“Welcome to the Mandarin,” said a bellboy in slightly accented English, as he opened the front doors with a slight bow. And for the first time Nikki felt as if she’d really and truly left home.

THAILAND II

Delicate Elephants

Nikki woke up with the traveler’s hangover. Dehydrated, confused, sweaty, and sticking to the sheets, she felt the way she did the morning after her three-day post-breakup bender in college. At fourteen hours behind, her body clock was telling her to simply crawl back in bed and stay there, but Bangkok was already bright and sunny, and bustling through its midmorning routine.

Val knocked on the door, and for once she wasn’t her usual blender full of energy and cigarettes. She was carrying a cup of coffee and was already wearing her sunglasses, but her hair looked perfect as usual.

“I called Laura,” she said, stifling a yawn. “She’s going to meet us at Lawan’s clinic.”

Nikki nodded. Reaching for her suitcase, she began looking for things to make herself feel human again.

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Val, waving negligently and ambling out of the room. “Knock when you’re ready to go.”

An hour later they walked out of their carefully chilled hotel
and into the sweltering heat of a Bangkok day. Born and raised in the Northwest, Nikki had found California dry and unpleasant, like a case of morning mouth desperately in need of a cleansing glass of water, but even California hadn’t prepared her for the intense omnipresent heat of Thailand. She kept moving, as if she could turn a corner and no longer be hot.

Val gave directions to a cab driver and cracked a window, preparing to light up. Nikki could tell the cabbie was irritated, and she didn’t blame him. The window was the small, thin barrier against the noise and smell of the streets, and Val not only allowed all that in, but she welcomed it with a flick of her ashing cigarette.

The cab driver wound through the streets and Nikki watched the neighborhoods deteriorate from upscale business to rundown urban poor in a matter of minutes. The cabbie pulled up in front of a small cement block building. Like many buildings in Bangkok, it had a walled courtyard in front and tall front gates nearly flush with the sidewalk.

A small blue rectangle with white writing was the only indication that the building was meant for public use—the English on the sign read “Chinnawat Clinic.” A guard at the gate was chasing away a gaggle of young boys as they arrived, but he let Val and Nikki in without question. Nikki couldn’t help notice that he was carrying an MP9 submachine gun in the same careless manner in which someone might carry a lunch pail.

The atmosphere inside the building was one of constrained optimism. The clinic was painfully clean. Dirt and dust had been banished with a regimental exactitude, but the sparse furnishings, threadbare curtains, and sun-faded cheerful health posters featuring happy Thai couples only served to remind the viewer that times were hard.

They had barely entered the room when Laura Daniels came scuttling through an interior door to greet them.

“Oh thank goodness,” she said, throwing up her hands and rushing to embrace them. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She released Nikki from her hug and patted at her like a potter pushing clay into shape. “Welcome to the Chinnawat Clinic!”

She was blondish, plump, and cheerful. The wrinkles on her face were set in permanent laugh lines and her smile seemed a perpetual accessory, but Nikki thought she could detect underlying strain behind her eyes. She was dressed in simple khakis and a pink button-up shirt. Her hair had been tucked into a scarf that fluttered behind her as she moved. Nikki got the feeling that Laura thought this was dressing down.

“Thanks,” said Val, dusting at her sleeve as if Laura’s hug had somehow dirtied it. “Is there someplace we can go to talk?” She looked around the room, not quite resting her glance on the receptionist, who was eyeing them with a skeptical air.

“We can use Lawan’s office,” said Laura, beaming. “It’s this way.” She led them behind the desk and into a labyrinth of corridors.

“What can you tell us about Lawan?” Val asked.

“Lawan is a dedicated crusader for human rights,” said Laura, proudly.

“So she didn’t skip town with the contents of the till, then,” Val said. Nikki knew she was joking, but she could see that Val’s tone had annoyed Laura.

“We help nearly one hundred and fifty people a day, mostly women and children, and we’re financed entirely through donations and volunteer efforts,” said Laura. “Our patients are among the poorest in the city, and we feel that getting them medical care is only part of our mission.”

“What’s the other part?” Nikki asked when Val didn’t respond.

“This,” said Laura, throwing open a door to a wide courtyard. Children ran across the sandy ground and climbed on a plastic jungle gym. On the far wall, in big block English letters, someone had painted a quote and surrounded it with bright colors and images of flowers and trees.

PEOPLE NEVER STOP WAITING FOR THE CHANCE TO CHANGE THE THINGS THAT MAKE THEIR LIVES UNLIVABLE.

Nikki thought it was an unwieldy quote, overly long and lacking in the succinctness of a truly good line, but she appreciated the sentiment.

“Kids?” Val asked, apparently not noticing the quote.

“Those, too,” agreed Laura. “Lawan was helped by my scholarship foundation. That was where we met. She was so young, but even then I could tell that she was destined for great things. We sent her to a boarding school, and it helped change the path of her life. When she came back to Thailand—and believe me, she didn’t have to—she dedicated her life to offering that same chance to others. The kids come here to be in a safe place and maybe get something to eat. Without Lawan, many of them would have already been turned out in the brothels. Lawan believes in building a better future for Thailand. You can’t fake belief like that. So, no, I don’t think she left town with the till or any of the foundation’s money.”

Val half-shrugged, half-nodded, but didn’t speak. Nikki looked at the building again, seeing the sparsity of decoration this time not as an indication of poverty, but as part of Lawan’s spartan determination to use everything to succeed.

A tackraw ball flew through the air, interrupting Nikki’s pondering. She caught it and turned it over in her hands. A bit larger than a softball, it was plastic, but made to look like interwoven
strips of rattan. Tackraw was a game played like a cross between hackey sack and volleyball, and Nikki had been intrigued by it when she’d seen it in the guide book.

“Hi,” said a little girl, approaching Nikki.

“Hi,” Nikki said, holding out the ball. The girl giggled. With a second look, Nikki realized that the girl was probably about fourteen, but so small and pixie-like that she looked younger. She had sparkling black eyes and perfect white teeth that flashed every time she smiled, which was often.

“I’ll want to see her office,” Val said, and walked away with Laura.

“Play?” the girl suggested, holding up the ball.

“Sorry,” said Nikki, shaking her head. The girl shrugged and kicked the ball in a lobbing arc back to the ring of waiting children. In her mind’s eye, Nikki could see the life of a prostitute that Lawan had helped this little girl avoid, and she shuddered at the idea of seeing the girl painted up in garish makeup and waiting for someone to buy her soul an hour at a time. Her respect for Lawan grew even more.

She hurried after Val and Laura, and had almost caught up with them when they turned a corner. A second later she heard Laura shout out. Running around the corner, Nikki saw Laura tugging at the shoulders of a man in a white coat; he looked like one of the clinic’s staff members. A second man—heavy set, Caucasian, with dark hair and a garish purple shirt—was tugging at something in the orderly’s hand. Val was approaching the little group with long angry strides.

“Hey!” she yelled, and the white man’s head snapped up.

He looked back at the orderly and with tremendous strength shoved the orderly backward into Laura, sending them both sprawling. The dark-haired man snatched the object he’d been
struggling over out of the orderly’s hands and took off running. The orderly, seeing Val and Nikki bearing down on him, scrambled to his feet and ran in the opposite direction.

“Go after him,” yelled Val, pointing at the orderly. “I’ve got this one.”

Nikki nodded as she passed and adjusted her run to a full sprint. Ahead of her, the orderly tipped over shelving, scattering supplies across Nikki’s path. His footsteps echoed as he passed through a covered breezeway between buildings and then crunched out into a gravel-paved courtyard. Nikki hit the courtyard in time to see him bounce from a crate to the wall and then up and over a six-foot-tall back gate with the fluidity of an action star.

“Jeez,” she muttered, scrambling after him. The street behind the clinic was busy with pedestrians, and Nikki caught only the barest glimpse of the orderly’s white back as he disappeared up the street. She arrived at the street corner and looked both ways for her quarry, and then shrugged her shoulders in defeat as she saw the white jacket hanging over the edge of a stair railing.

She walked toward the front of the clinic, going the long way around the block to walk off some of her adrenaline. Up ahead of her there was a commotion and she watched as Val shoved someone into the side of a tuk-tuk as she ran by. Nikki took a step, ready to run, and then thought better of it. It was a long block and the two were already well ahead of her. There had to be a smarter way.

She ran up the block to where she’d last seen Val. Tuk-tuks were parked in the street, their drivers gathered in small groups, chatting. Nikki spotted one of the three-wheeled, open-sided vehicles with the keys still in the ignition and jumped in. Revving the engine, she tossed the tuk-tuk into Reverse and rolled out into traffic. She heard irate screaming and then a thump as the tuk-tuk’s owner jumped onto the back.

Nikki rounded the corner of the block just in time to see Val’s quarry taking off on a motorcycle. Val was on the sidewalk, hands on her knees, panting.

“Get in!” Nikki yelled, slowing down enough for Val to leap on.

“Your friend seems a little upset,” Val said, landing in the backseat. Nikki glanced in the rearview mirror at the tuk-tuk driver, who, still screaming in Thai, was climbing in beside Val.

“Watch the road!” Val yelled, and Nikki jerked her head around in time to narrowly avoid a bus. The purple-shirted man was easily weaving through traffic on the more nimble motorcycle. Nikki pulled around the bus, gaining a little on the bike. They were in an older quarter of the city, where the streets were worryingly narrow and the human population seemed to think everything was a sidewalk. Ahead of them, the motorcycle took a hard left. But as he took the turn, a sparkling disk flew out of his pocket like a Frisbee and smashed into the wall—shattering.

“You’re not going to make that turn,” said Val in a carefully neutral tone, ignoring the debris from the motorcycle and focusing on more important information.

“I’m going to make the turn,” Nikki said.

“You’re not going to make it,” said Val again, this time with a distinct note of urgency.

Nikki assessed the situation again. “You’re right. I’m not going to make it. Get out.”

“What?” Val yelled.

“Be my monkey,” yelled Nikki, pointing out the side.

“Be your own monkey, bitch!” Val yelled back, not getting the concept.

“I need the balance. Hang out the side!” The tuk-tuk driver was spewing something, probably swear words, but was already clinging to the frame of the vehicle.

“You’re not going to make it,” Val yelled, climbing out of the tuk-tuk.

“I’m going to make it,” muttered Nikki, as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel and took the turn. “Lean!” she screamed, as a rear wheel came off the ground.

Val and the driver were clinging to the tuk-tuk by their fingers and toes, their bodies extended as far out as possible to counterbalance the weight shift. The tuk-tuk rounded the corner on two wheels and then came down with a grinding thump, as Nikki accelerated into the straightaway. The motorcycle had slowed down for the turn, but was now speeding down the alley toward an open courtyard. They were near the river somewhere, but Nikki couldn’t tell where. She had the gas pedal wedged down and grinned as she saw the distance narrowing. She could feel Val looking at her, but ignored this. The driver began to yell something again, pointing toward the end of the alleyway.

“Holy shit,” Val said, pointing also.

“Holy shit,” Nikki repeated, seeing the elephant walking across the mouth of the alley, its massive gray hide blotting out the sunlight. The man, showing a fearlessness Nikki had to admire, squeaked past the elephant, while Nikki slammed on the brakes and came to halt with the smell of burning rubber wafting around them. The elephant, upset by the ruckus, stamped and trumpeted, while its handlers yelled and waved sticks. One of the handlers turned to them and smacked the tuk-tuk with his stick.

“Delicate elephant!” the handler shouted.

“We could get out and run after him,” Nikki offered, her fingers still clamped to the steering wheel, ignoring the yelling.

“Yeah, you go ahead and walk under the delicate elephant,” Val said. “I’ll wait here and see how that works out for you.”

The elephant finally moved on, and Nikki edged the tuk-tuk
out into the courtyard, where the motorcycle lay abandoned in the middle. Nikki realized they were closer to the river than she had thought. The courtyard was really a wide strip of pavement before a ferryboat launch. The actual boat was obscured by a plethora of shops that spilled out into the street.