The Angel of Bang Kwang Prison (18 page)

Meanwhile I was experiencing moments of blind panic over what I was doing. For one thing, Garth wasn’t in contact much, which hurt me and made me anxious, particularly in bed at night when I had plenty of time to think. I was giving up so much to follow him to America and wondered at his silence. It turned out he didn’t have much money to make phone calls to Thailand from the detention centre, but I didn’t know this at the time. A couple of people had voiced their opinions on my ventures. Dr Shan met me for dinner one evening and ended up just blurting it out:

‘Don’t go, you’ll end up hurt because Garth cannot be trusted.’

He told me that he felt Garth had no real remorse for the mistakes he had made; he was more sorry about the fact he was caught. Once Shan had finished he said, ‘There I’ve said it! I feel better, it’s off my plate now,’ which only served to irritate me.

At the time, I felt that he had said it more for himself than out of worry for me, and I guess that is why I didn’t heed the warning.

Now, don’t think for an instance that I thought it was going to be like a romantic fairy-tale-ending story. I was leaving Asia, my home of over 20 years with my young daughter, eventually, in tow, to live with a man who had spent the previous eight years behind bars. To put it another way, I was literally moving to the other side of the world to live with a man that I had not spent any time alone with; in the whole time I had known him.

What if it didn’t work out?

Chapter Ten

Garth was expected to do well. The authorities knew that Talya and I were going to join him, and there was plenty of evidence that he had learnt a bitter lesson. Two of the editors of
Farang
magazine, Cameron Cooper and Jim Algie, furnished parole officers with Garth’s published writings, which extorted young travellers arriving in Bangkok, in search of excitement, to visit him in Bang Kwang so as to not make the same mistakes he did:

‘Take advantage of the opportunity I was too tragically hip to take and make the time to see for yourself the probable consequences of your actions.’

His family also wrote letters describing their belief and confidence that he was going to turn his life around. I had been on the phone a lot to them and they knew of Garth’s and my intention to set up projects to help the less privileged. His father had re-married and he and his new wife were anxious to see him free. Whatever misgivings his siblings felt about their kid brother, they rallied around to support him, illustrating that he was still loved by the family.

There were also a few letters from people who had known Garth in Bang Kwang. One woman, Henny Heijnen, had been writing to him from Holland after her daughter made a visit to the prison and was horrified at the conditions. When she returned home she urged her family and friends to write to the prisoners and send them gifts. Henny wrote that, ‘I hope for a favourable outcome for Garth … because I believe that the years in prison purified him and have made him a better human being.’

Another Aussie, Alison Fry, worked as a speech pathologist and managed the Time-Out Prisoner Support Group for foreign inmates in Bangkok prisons. She had visited with Garth once a week and had detected a developmental lateral speech defect which, she felt, led him to take up the life he did and prevented him from interacting with people in a confident manner. She wrote very positively about him to the parole officer. Mila Martel, my Canadian Embassy friend, had also visited Garth in prison and wrote a favourable piece about him.

There was also a letter from Fleming and Beatrice, a European couple whose son was serving time in Bang Kwang. They wrote about witnessing Talya bringing in her homework to do with Garth through the bars. Most of the letters asked for mercy from the parole board on account of our relationship and the fact I was on my way to be with him.

All the letters and positive character references were then gathered together by the Deputy Federal Public Defender in February 2003 and sent on to the US Probation Officer, Daniel W. Tynan. Eventually, on 6 March, Garth walked out the doors of the detention centre, a free man at long, long last. He had spent a total of 90 days in the centre and was irritated by the fact that he was the last of the transferred Americans to be released. (This was because of the previous jail term he served in Japan.)

He was now 41 and ready to start again. An ex-girlfriend, Flo, collected him from the centre and brought him back to the cottage that she shared with her boyfriend. The next day she drove him to Rogan’s place in Monterey where he met up with the family. There was a bit of money for him—his share of the inheritance left by his mother. They stayed in a hotel, courtesy of Garth, and enjoyed a great re-union. Meanwhile, back in Thailand—possibly while he was partying with his family—I was boarding my plane. It was a strange time, not just for me facing the unknown but world-wise, post 9/11, with the threat of war and more terrorist planes in the air.

I had decided to dress casual in denim and boots. They were probably the heaviest of my sparse wardrobe so it made more sense to wear them. I flew into San Francisco airport on 17 March, St Patrick’s Day, with my heart in my mouth. A part of me was willing to stay on the plane and watch the same movies again all the way back to Thailand, but another part of me was preparing to trample the elderly and young children to get out and through customs as fast as possible. In the end it all happened quite efficiently; in no time at all I was pushing my trolley through the gate, not quite believing that Garth was somewhere amongst the welcoming crowd, without escorts or shackles.

This would be the first time that I would meet him as a free man … and suddenly, there he was, standing shyly towards the back of the bustling crowd with a bunch of white roses in his hands and looking like he hadn’t the first clue what to do next. But I sure did. I was like Moses parting the Red Sea as I pushed that rickety trolley through the kissing couples and re-uniting families at break-neck speed and then let it continue on without me as I leapt on top of Garth. Together at last, after eight long years.

We embraced for ages, crushing the flowers, oblivious to the fact that we were in several peoples’ way. After a while he led me outside into a beautiful spring morning and a huge, black limo that he had hired to collect me. He had also rented a seaside cottage for three days so that we could be alone together, like a furtive honeymoon couple. We cuddled and caressed for most of the drive and were too busy getting to know each other to partake of the champagne that was put out for us. The friendly driver knew our story and didn’t interrupt us once, further obliging us by keeping his eyes firmly on the road in front of him. After three idyllic, perfect days we were moving in with Garth’s brother and girlfriend in Monterey.

The city of Monterey is located on Monterey Bay along the Pacific Coast in central California, two hours south of San Francisco, and has a population of approximately 30,000. Many Californian ‘firsts’ happened here, including California’s first theatre, first public building, first brick house, first public library, and first printing house. California’s first constitution was drafted here in 1849. It was also infamous as the last place, in America, to give up prohibition. And it’s beautiful. The beaches in Monterey reminded me of the beaches in Melbourne, as did the coastal highways. The weather was perfect for me, in that I could walk for hours without being drenched by sweat or wanting to collapse, unlike Thailand where the hot weather encouraged you only to stand still in the shade rather than strolling along the sticky streets. There was hardly any crime—I don’t think I have ever felt safer.

However, the other side was that it was a very conservative place and the police would pick you up if you looked at them sideways. There are more elderly (white) inhabitants and churches per capita than anywhere else in America, though it also, thankfully, has its fair share of bohemians. Apart from the famous beaches there were numerous great, big forests to go hiking in.

All in all I loved it and it did me the world of good. I hadn’t realised how much anger and stress I was carrying around me in my day-to-day life in Thailand. It was only natural considering the places I went to, like the prisons and desperately poor slums, and the down and out stories that I heard maybe seven days a week. My anger just evaporated and my stress drifted away across the sea under the rich blue skies. It hit me that it wasn’t only Garth who was free of Bang Kwang, but also me. I would still write to inmates and send them what I could, but I was hugely relieved that I didn’t have to see that building and spend any time in it—for the foreseeable future.

We visited Garth’s father and stepmother at their sprawling property that overlooked the ocean. They were warm and welcoming to us. We got to see whales and dolphins, and roaming llamas in their massive garden. It was fantastic for him to renew contact with his family again, especially his father, and I felt proud to be a part of it. They were a united bunch and were grateful to me for looking after Garth. They remarked that he had certainly changed for the best and wasn’t the angry, tight-lipped guy who had arrived back after serving his Japan jail sentence. Everyone enthused about his new attitude to life and them.

His brother asked me how I had managed to get Garth. I didn’t understand him at first but then he explained that when they were younger, the girls would be beating a path to his mother’s house, searching for him, while he was, at the sight of them, escaping out the back door. Garth had always shied away from commitment and relationships, probably because of watching what his mother went through after his dad left. I told him that when I met Garth I hadn’t been looking for a relationship—far from it.

‘Ah!’ he smiled, ‘That’s how you did it.’

Life was good. As much as we loved living with Rogan and Angie—who incidentally are famous for making the best Long Island Ice Teas on the peninsula—we were anxious for a place of our own. We couldn’t afford a house so we got the next best thing; a $200 1963 Volkswagon camper van with a pop-up, which meant we could move if we wanted too, and we didn’t have to worry about needing to buy furniture and appliances. The van was old but in good condition, with a nice interior look and tiny kitchen. It became my home and office. With Talya joining us, we decided to rent a room in a friend’s house for her while we parked in the driveway. It wasn’t to be a permanent solution, just a starting point in our new life as a family.

The one shadow for me was that we couldn’t travel abroad any time soon. I was seeing where Garth grew up, where he went to school and where he hung out with his mates. Before his mother died I had spoken to her innumerable times over the years and gotten her to describe Garth’s early life to me, and where it all unfolded. Now here I was, breathing in his history and surrounded by the ghost of his former self. As a result I felt closer to him and also felt I knew him much better than I ever did in Bangkok. Naturally I began to long to show him Melbourne and how it played a part in crafting the person he had fallen in love with, with all my key locations like my schools, the art and crafts market, the different places I had lived, and my grandparents’ house.

Our physical life was as good as I had expected it to be, since we had such a good connection anyway, emotionally and intellectually. However, it was the little things that I got the most out of; just watching Garth making a coffee for me, or talking with his brother, or mowing a lawn. These were the ordinary things that spelled freedom to me. There were no mesh fences or iron bars and no inmates interrupting us to ask me for help. Of course, a bit of adjustment was required on my part. I hadn’t lived with a man in such a long time, and, also, I had become accustomed to giving, not receiving. I remember reading a magazine article where there was a definition of ‘true’ love; part of loving someone is allowing them to love and care for you. I had to learn again how to let Garth care for me and do things for me. I also had to get used to his atrocious eating habits, a throwback to his Bang Kwang days when food was scarce and the company was entirely male and without many table manners. He ate so fast, hardly stopping to take up a fork and knife, and then would have to lick the plate completely before he would part with it.

I loved cooking for him. I had spent some time over the previous years dreaming about cooking him a meal when he was free, and now it was really happening. There was a great health-food shop near us and I enjoyed cooking lots of Mexican and Thai food, particularly when I found myself missing Bangkok. Money was tight but we always knew that this would be the case, and besides, we didn’t want for much. Garth dug out his drum kit and jammed with his brother-in-law, David, who played guitar. He got a few gigging jobs that paid cash in hand. In fact, he did quite a few odd jobs that paid reasonably well.

The best one by far was when he got a job caddying at the huge world famous Pebble Beach golf course. Monterey is a famous and popular spot for ridiculously wealthy golfers, both professional and amateur. His tips were never less than $50 and mostly as high as $100, and what with the exercise and good working hours, it was a dream job. Other jobs included mowing lawns, house-painting with his friend, Larry, who played in a band, and installing phones with another old school buddy, Jay. His friends were eager to help him get back on his feet and most of the jobs were because of them. He was clean for the first time in years and we were full of plans for the future. Talya joined us a month later and we took plenty of outings to see the sights before she started her school year.

My social life was coming along nicely. I became fast friends with Larry, who introduced me to his good friend Cathy, who quickly became my second best friend in Monterey. They shared a house together; he was on the downstairs floor while she and her kids lived upstairs. I even attended their AA meetings with them, discovering them to be a pleasant, positive forum to be able to sit amongst like-minded people and discuss problems and lessons in life. I wasn’t an alcoholic but, nevertheless, I got a lot out of these meetings. Throughout the summer we would head to the park with Cathy and Larry, to hear live bands perform blues and jazz. It was like travelling with royalty because these two knew everybody and they would generously introduce me, allowing me to widen my circle of friends.

Whenever he could, Larry would have Garth play in his rock ‘n’ roll band. They attracted crowds of locals to the pubs—possibly to do with their very beautiful, sexy, and large-breasted lead singer Emily. The band practised at Larry’s house and I enjoyed cooking massive amounts of Thai food for everyone. I also caught up with a friend I had known in Thailand, who was now living in Monterey and working for the TV network
ABC
. I also befriended a girl who had lost a leg to diabetes. She couldn’t get out much so I visited her and she, in turn, introduced me to her charming friends who also lived in a trailer. Cathy made my day by giving us her old TV and video player. I’ve always enjoyed watching movies and enjoyed the freedom to curl up with Garth on our tiny couch even more.

But, of course, nothing in life is perfect. We were under financial pressures and ended up living in the camper van for eight months. I know Garth struggled under these pressures. He had been used to living the life of a well-off bachelor, and then in jail only had himself to think about. Now he had a partner and child, only Talya was no longer a child and had recently started seeing imperfections in the adults around her. Inevitably there were clashes and inevitably I was piggy in the middle.