The Lie Spinners (The Deception Dance) (23 page)

I
try to match our
elephant-themed
hostel
-room
to what I can remember about the room in my dream-vision, but it’s
hard to tell; I wasn’t really taking time out to memorize the
bedspreads and the wall-hangings while I was dooming the world.

After
we eat with the kiwis I have to physically restrain my sister from
running into the placid, crystal-clear water of the beach our hostel
sits on. But I’m not going to make the same stupid move of
wandering off by myself again and I am not waiting for her to splash
around in the water. I’m finding Stephen. Extraction commencing
now, and I’m taking Linnie with me so there’s no messy
murder attempts on either of us while we’re separated.

After
showering and waiting for Linnie to shower, only because we actually
stink
,
we head off for Haad Rin.

When
the kiwis said that Haad Rin was just down the beach they must have
meant down the beach, through an extremely-hot no-shade area, then
through a little town; three miles in ninety degrees plus humidity.

By
the time we got to Haad Rin we were sweaty, dirty and yes, stinky
anew.

“
Death,
Death, Water…” Linnie rasps as we stumble into a small
building with only a counter and nowhere to sit, definitely not the
bustling bar from my dream-vision but I am about at ‘
death,
death, water,
’
myself.

We
order water bottles and have to reorder twice before we’re
ready to face the heat again.

Sunrise
Beach, which we were told is one of two beaches in Haad Rin (the
other Sunset Beach), stretches out, a postcard ready view of calm
powder blue water and white sand, littered with sunbathers barely
clothed in all colors.

Under
the shade of a few palm trees a long line of men and women get what a
sign proclaims is ‘Thai Massage.’ Behind these loungers
lines up about seven or eight beach bars.

Basically,
unrecognizable compared to my dream-vision; but perhaps if I
concentrated enough, I could imagine it to be night and packed with
partiers and fire dances. I have a hard time merging the two scenes.

This
first bar (pub, club or whatever) we enter, named Catclaw, opens into
a wide open space with bleacher like benches on both sides and no
tables, a DJ and a bartender set up their respective stations and a
person sweeps the floor.

I’m
trying to fill the bar with people in my mind, make lights flash,
hear booming music, but either it doesn’t match or I’m
having a bad imagination day.

“
Not
open yet!” The bartender yells without looking up.

“
What
are you looking for?” Linnie asks as we head back to the beach.

“
I’ll
know it when I see it,” I say.

Linnie
stops.

I
turn.

Linnie’s
brow wrinkles and she juts her chin out at me. “Know it when
you see it…? What the Hell does that mean? I thought you
overheard something.”

“
I
mean… um, I’ll recognize it from what they said…”
I. Am. A. Freaking. Idiot.

“
You’re
still lying to me! I’m following you around everywhere,
and…Jesus, Raven. When did you become such a
liar
?”
She shouts at me.

“
I’m
not… I’m not lying!” I shout back. “I told
you…I told you
everything
,
okay?”

She
looks directly into my eyes for a long second.

Unbidden,
my gaze falls to the sand.

She
exhales, loudly. “God! I can’t believe you. I just…
I just don’t want to be around you right now!”

I
look up to see Linnie walking away.

“
Linnie,
you don’t have any money!” I call after her but she
doesn’t stop.

I
cover my face with my hands and concentrate on breathing. As much as
I want to run after her, I see very little point in it. True, flies
hold longer grudges than my sister; but, there’s really nothing
I have to say to her either.

I’m
not a liar.

She
just can’t handle the truth.

I
am protecting her! I didn’t even want her to come to Thailand.
It’s not my fault if she’s forcing herself into
situations that she can’t handle!

I
continue to the next bar, this one named First Stop Bar, but I know
before I enter that it’s not the right one; I go in anyhow, but
the exterior and interior of this one looks closer to a two story
restaurant. The next couple bars also aren’t right. One of
them, Whiz, already has a small crowd of drinkers sharing what looks
like buckets with several straws coming out.

Communal
drinks?
Gross
.

After
the fifth bar, the thought occurs to me, maybe it’s not here.
Maybe we just went on a two day journey in the wrong direction. It’s
possible I’m not even having visions of the future. If I told
this to Dr. Gena (the Leijonskjöld therapist I have been forced
to see for the past year), she’d probably tell me that I’m
just imagining that I have powers because I’m a human who feels
helpless in a supernatural world.

Maybe,
I’ve gone completely nutter-butters.

Walking
into the sixth club that looks like a lodge up on a cliff, confirms
that I’ve been following a complete fabrication of my mind.
Heading back down to the sand, I dread going back to Linnie, who’s
already pissed at me, and telling her that I just made up the whole
thing and we should probably hop on the ferry.

I
stop abruptly.

A
building that I totally didn’t register as a bar before, rolls
up a large metal, garage like door, and I see the guy doing it. I
recognize him immediately, Pom, the long haired DJ-bartender guy from
my vision. He jumps up and locks the rolling metal door with a pad
lock and heads back inside the club.

I
sit down in the sand. My visions are real. My visions are real? I can
see the future in my dreams? Holy Mother of God!

I
feel a bit dizzy and rest my head on my knees while staring at my new
mark on my arm. I have a demon power.

That
is like, all kinds of bad.

And
a little bit of bad-ass…But mostly just bad.

I
take a couple deep breaths then stand up while brushing the sand off
my butt.

Walking
into the bar feels surreal, I don’t need to imagine people in
the space, it’s as if the dimensions and the overall feeling of
the building have already been encoded in my memory. The wide bench,
the DJ station, the bar—it’s all there.

Pom
looks just the same, same long dark hair, stature and facial
features. He’s setting up a bar, cleaning bottles, setting out
limes and lemons. I approach him slowly.

The
room seems too large with regular lighting and no one in it, like a
church; though, the tangy old alcohol smell and the sand still
sneaking between my sandals and my feet are decidedly
not-church-like.

Pom
continues working, even when I stand at the bar just staring. He
smiles, even though he’s not looking at me. “You are an
early
bird
,”
he says the expression like he’s trying it on for size. “What
can I get for you?”

“
Um…”
I say, hooking my fingers into my pockets. “I’m actually
looking for someone…” I clear my throat.
Why
am I so nervous?
“I’m Stephen’s friend. I’m looking for him,
Stephen Tapper.”

“
Hello,
Stephen’s friend, my name is Pom,” Pom says, still not
looking up. “Good luck to you but I do not know any Stephen.”

I
just stand there, staring at him.

Pom
glances up at me, and then returns to his work. “Stephen’s
friend,” he says, “I am sorry I cannot help you find this
man. If you are looking for Jim, Jack, Johnny, or Jameson, then I can
introduce you, but no Stephen here.”

“
Sorry,”
I say, backing up a few steps, “Sorry, I thought…”
I turn around, but turn back. Inhaling deeply, I ask, “I’m
looking for The Spider.”

Pom
sets down the bottle he was holding and raises his gaze to mine,
slowly. One pierced eyebrow rises. He looks me up and down, from
baseball cap, t-shirt, jeans to sandals.

His
voice lowers to a suspicious whisper, “Who sent you to me?”

“
No
one…” I say, “I mean, someone just told me that
you know where to find The Spider.”

“
Are
you from the police?”

“
No.”

“
You
have baht, on you?” He asks.

“
Yes…”
I say slowly, knowing that if he’s asking for a bribe it’s
probably going to be for more than the six hundred baht I brought
with me.

Pom
walks to a wooden door behind the bar and knocks three times. I swear
that my heart stops for the thirty seconds it takes for the door to
open. When the door swings open a Thai man with shoulder length hair
leans out. He says something in Thai to Pom and Pom responds by
pointing to me and answering, also in Thai.

The
man walks out, around the bar and over to me. He’s wearing
plain brown work clothes, not raver’s garb like Pom. He looks
up at me, because he’s about a foot shorter than me, and says
something in Thai.

“
He
asks if you want one or more.” Pom says.

I
look over at Pom, not sure what I should respond. “One…”
I say, hoping it’s the right answer.

When
Pom interprets my answer to the man, the short guy pulls out a
plastic bag, reaches in and holds out a small white tablet to me. He
says something in Thai.

“
Three
hundred baht,” Pom says.

I
stare at the pill, and then look at Pom.
I’m
buying drugs? In Thailand. Shit
.

For
some reason, I get the feeling that this isn’t a situation I
can lightly back out of. I pull out the baht in my pocket and hand
over three hundred baht. The short man places the little round pill
into my hand; it has a big green letter V written on it. I start to
tuck it into my pocket when the short Thai guy grabs my arm. He
talking to me fast and I think angrily, in Thai.

“
You
have to take it now,” Pom says.

I
clear my throat, and ask, “What?”

“
We
don’t know you; we don’t know if you are with the police,
you buy only one pill, you must take it now,” says Pom.

I
pull the pill out of my pocket. “Um, I wanted to save it for
tonight… can you just hold onto it for me…or can I get
a refund, or something, and buy it later?”

The
short guy reaches back and pulls a knife out. He holds the blade up,
in front of my neck. It’s stupid, but for some reason a short
guy holding a knife feels a whole heck of a lot less scary than a
tall guy doing it. I almost want to tell him, ‘I’ve faced
Demons, little guy. Why don’t you go butter some bread with
that?’ But I’m not that stupid…yet.