Freedom Earned Read online

  He ran a hand over his jaw, then grinned. “Dude, this trip is going to be wicked.”

  I had no doubt, and soon my paranoia faded away. Still, I couldn’t push down the regret that we weren’t staying in the city for at least a little while before we went. Leaning my forehead against the window, I watched a crowd of Japanese people at a rally. All their umbrellas formed a pattern of white and black, with one pink umbrella at the edge. A tall cutout of a robot stood at the corner of a skyscraper, and all manner of signs were ready to light up the town in fluorescence once the sun set.

  We made it to Narita airport—where I had arrived the day before—checked in, and soon were boarding without incident.

  Eyeing the flight attendant as we boarded, Jason grinned my way. “Maybe the fun doesn’t have to wait until Thailand.”

  I frowned. “Don’t be a sleazebag.”

  “What?” He led the way to our seats. “How is it that you’re the Marine, and I’m the one who’s acting like a man?”

  My fist clenched, but then relaxed. This guy was my friend from way back. If I wasn’t used to his bullshit by this point, it was beyond too late. Still, people putting that association on Marines always pissed me off. Did the male portion of my Corps love women, and women love us? Of course! But, many of the guys I hung out with were perfect gentlemen, all about chivalry. Hell, we were the modern knights, ready to ride off to save our princesses on our steeds. Some of the guys, however, were basically Jason on crack, and they earned us a bad name. The rest of us were normal men, but men who looked damn good in uniform. To be fair, some of the female Marines weren’t much better than the worst of us. Or much worse than the best of us, depending on your view of the situation.

  I kicked out Jason’s foot as he walked, so that he stumbled and nearly fell in the aisle. But then he was up, laughing and pointing at me.

  “When you least expect it, dude,” he said. “When you least…expect…it.”

  I wasn’t worried. We found our seats, and before long were taking off. We’d both taken Dramamine beforehand, which meant that we’d pass out on the flight. Arriving slightly groggy was a small price to pay in return for sleeping and not getting airsick. That worked for me, because apparently, this trip he had planned was to the Thai island of Koh Samui.

  This wasn’t the first time I had been to Thailand. My first trip out of Okinawa had been to a small city right outside Bangkok with my gunnery sergeant, to take a one-week kickboxing intensive. No playing around. We were up at the crack of dawn to run, trained with local kickboxers for two hours, then ate, reset, and did it all again in the afternoon.

  This trip was bound to be quite different.

  “I’m telling you,” Jason said as we began our descent to the island on a rickety airplane, “you’re going to love Koh Samui.”

  “You’ve been before?”

  He nodded. “A while ago, yeah. Funny thing was, back then I was a prude like you—not into the idea of paying for sex.”

  “I’m not a prude, I—”

  “So, anyway, I’m there with two of my buddies, this guy from New Zealand and the other from Australia, and they were dirty. I mean, they’re showing me ground zero, all the clubs where you walk in and pick from a lineup, that sort of thing.”

  “Please tell me we’re not doing that.”

  “You aren’t, but me… I haven’t ruled out anything, yet.”

  “Anything?” I gave him a look.

  He scoffed. “Hey, you Marines might be homophobes, but if a lady boy is convincing enough, I’d let her go down on me.”

  I laughed, then covered my mouth at the horrified look of the grandma with her grandson in the next aisle. She was right. Not cool. Plus, I knew from my last trip to Thailand how offensive it was to many of the locals that so many foreigners saw their country through a lens of prostitution and lady boys.

  “Relax, lady.” Jason scowled back. “The boy can’t hear us, anyway.”

  The boy had on thick headphones, playing his video game, but he muttered, “I can, and you’re disgusting.”

  Jason leaned back, looked at me with surprise, and pretended to zip his mouth.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled to the lady, since I was sitting closer and in the aisle seat.

  “It’s people like you who give us a bad name.” She shook her head. “Shame on you.”

  “Not me,” I started to protest, but instead bowed my head and apologized again. Turning to Jason, I socked him in the shoulder.

  I was surprised to see that the airport we were landing at was mostly an open-air layout, aside from a small building. Steepled wood, with arches and lit tiki torches. Tropical flowers lined the path. Men and women in matching black slacks and blue polos welcomed us and provided unlimited Thai iced tea—a favorite of mine, so I had three cups and then had to find a bathroom.

  Jason followed me in, glanced around, and said, “That grandma, she wouldn’t be off-limits either. I like them feisty.”

  “Come on,” I protested, moving on to wash my hands.

  “You wouldn’t do that?”

  I shook my head, wondering when he would lay off, then heard a flush from the stall and saw the boy from the plane glaring at Jason. As he exited, he put his game aside long enough to flip us off, then ran away as if he thought we would chase him down.

  Jason laughed, then held up his right hand. “No more, I promise. Tell me about the Marines, man. How is it lately? How many people have you killed, now?”

  “First, like a lady’s age, you don’t ask that.” He was my boy so I’d let it slide, but it was a seriously annoying question. “Second, none. I’m intel—it could happen, sure… but hasn’t.”

  “But you’ve indirectly killed a lot with your intel, I bet.” He winked, as if I was supposed to appreciate that.

  “What about you?” I asked as we walked out toward the taxis. I couldn’t help noticing that he hadn’t washed his hands, but remembered that he had always been that way.

  “What? Killed anyone?” He nodded. “Lots of Yakuza in this game I’m playing, sure. Hey, you know that my neighborhood was actually popular for them a few years back? Yeah, a couple of gunshots and whatnot in karaoke clubs, and this lady at my grocery store was telling me that they were Yakuza hangouts. Don’t mess with them, I tell ya.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Not that the Yakuza were a problem when it came to Marines. They cared more about local issues, getting their money and whatnot, operating as most gangs or mafias did. A lot of involvement in construction projects and stuff like that, I heard, but there hadn’t ever been a confrontation between them and American servicemembers, to my knowledge.

  Even the Okinawans, who seemed to desperately want American bases off their soil, were incredibly polite. A fact that boggled my mind, considering the horrible rapes and other incidents caused by service members over the years. The big cases had been the 1995 rape by two sailors and a Marine, but more recently, there was the case of a former Marine who was working on Kadena Air Base. There were likely more, but I did my best to stay away from that sort of news because it tended to get me riled up or super depressed. Those sick pricks. If I had my way, I would line them all up to be shot by a firing squad.

  We caught a ride in what I was told was called a “Songthaew.” It reminded me of a ghetto-man’s Humvee, a red truck with built-in benches on each side and a roof overhead. With the nine-hour flight and Thailand being two hours behind Japan, we had arrived as the sun was descending past the palms, still slightly visible as a red ball behind wispy clouds. The airport was on the east side of the island, but I made a mental note to try and see the sunset from the west side while we were here.

  I had been expecting the island to be more of a resort, so was surprised to see us passing an outlet mall and movie theater. Two young teens walking along the street saw us staring. One held up two fingers, but I wasn’t sure if he was doing the peace sign or the European version of the middle finger.

  “Don’t worry, the beac
h stuff will come,” Jason said, as if reading my mind.

  “Not worried. Caught off guard.” My eyes went wide. “Oh, shit—is that what this is?”

  “I’m not following.”

  “You were surprised, right? She’s pregnant? That’s why—”

  “Shut your stinky mouth.” He laughed, then glared. Then laughed. “She’d better not be! No, man. Come on.”

  “No kids, then?”

  “Someday, sure. Sakura wants them, so why not? Maybe I’d like the idea of teaching them how to play ball, taking them to the movie theater and all that.” He glanced back, but the teens and movie theater were out of view.

  “Cool, man.” I leaned back and watched the scenery as I tried to imagine him as a father. Scary was the first word that came to mind. Then fun. His children would probably think he was the best father in the world, while Sakura would be frustrated by his lack of help around the house. Then again, maybe some responsibility would be a nice kick in the rear for him, turning him around. Or maybe this trip would be overload, turning him away from all debauchery in the future.

  Driving through the city, I was impressed by all the street vendors selling anything from T-shirts to carts with rows of roasted bugs to eat. It wasn’t as big as Bangkok but surpassed my expectations for an island destination. Driving by what Jason told me was one of the main red-light areas, I was surprised to see an elephant!

  “What…” I started, face pressed to the window.

  He laughed, nodding. “Yeah, man. They charge you money to feed it. Everyone’s gotta make a living.”

  “There are worse ways.”

  He caught the note of judgment in my voice, apparently, because he glared at me. “Hey, you know what I learned the last time I was here?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Most of the women working here, I mean, in that way… they’re doing it during their breaks, you know? To pay for college.” He sat straight, looking proud. “On this trip, think of me as a scholarship donator. I’m here to make the world a better place.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “Dude, while you’re at it, I have a pet rock I can sell you back home. A bunch of them, actually.”

  “Mock me, man, but I’m telling you the truth.”

  Letting him believe that wasn’t going to cost me anything, so I nodded and shot him a smile. “I’m excited for you.”

  “For us.”

  “I meant because you’re getting married, man.” I leaned forward. “Seriously, it’s a huge step, one I wasn’t sure you’d ever take. My respect for you has multiplied.” Current trip excluded, of course, but I didn’t need to say so.

  “And I’m excited for you, because you’re going to get your first blowjob at a bar. Right there, at the bar. It’s amazing.”

  “I thought you didn’t do that stuff last time you came?”

  He shrugged. “Caught me. It was my one indulgence, and was phenomenal.” For some reason, he decided that showing me how he looked at the moment, with hands out pretending to hold someone’s head while making a mock O-face, was necessary.

  “You don’t ever stop, do you?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not until that ring is on the finger.”

  My hope was that he would stop, then. As a friend, he was great. As the kind of guy to date one’s daughter or sister? Less so. I turned from him, wondering what my mom would’ve thought of my choice of friends, knowing how he had turned out.

  Over a beach on the other side of some buildings we were passing, the sky had turned blood red. Palm trees stood silhouetted against the vivid hue, and the distant sound of laughter carried into the night. If it weren’t for the horrible smell of exhaust from the vehicle, I would’ve said we were in paradise.

  3

  We arrived at a hotel that Jason promised was right on the outskirts of ground zero, so we at least wouldn’t be surrounded by the fat old men trying to find young women. He took care of the fare, having traded money at Narita airport before flying out.

  The heat wasn’t bad, considering it was October. A warm breeze blew through the streets. The area was cleaner and more of a city than I had expected. After all that traveling and considering that I didn’t know what the night would bring, I wanted a quick shower before hitting the town.

  “Not a chance.” He grinned and tossed me a towel. “Brought your swimsuit, yeah? You’ll basically be wearing that all the time, here.”

  “You want to swim now?” I glanced out at the red, darkening sky. “We’ve got like, what, ten minutes until it’s pure dark?”

  “That’s why we gotta hurry.”

  I shrugged, threw on my trunks, and followed him out to the beach. It was down a path between our place and the next one over. As we emerged, I was first struck by the way the red rippled across the water like miles of blood. Several dozen people were still in the water, splashing around and having a good time. Two more steps and I froze in my tracks at seeing a European woman in her late thirties walking by, completely topless. She saw me staring and offered a smile, then kept on as if nothing was off about that scene.

  Jason laughed, then nudged me as he pointed at a sign that asked women to keep their tops on. “The Europeans don’t care, man. Or maybe it’s Americans who think the Europeans don’t, so they try to copy them. Anyway, the locals don’t enforce it.”

  “This is a thing?” I asked, eyes scanning the beach before I wanted to kick myself for being a perv.

  “Doubt you’ll see more than one or two like that a day, but… sometimes. You got lucky right off the bat.”

  I laughed. “And the water?”

  “Come on.” He raced away, tossing his shirt on the back of a chair in a line of other beach chairs, presumably put there for tourists. A second later, he was in the water with me following. It was warm after absorbing the heat of the sun all day. Whatever the reason, it felt like a hotel hot tub. I lowered myself into it, closing my eyes and remembering that smile and more as the woman had walked by. Thailand was starting off all good in my book.

  My previous trip for training had impressed me well enough, but Bangkok was a massive city with traffic worse than anywhere I had ever lived. Cars, tuk-tuks, and motorcycles were everywhere, along with constant construction of half-finished buildings that had been abandoned at the end of the last boom. Much of the city smelled dirty, like exhaust. Where I’d trained had been on the outskirts, though, and we had a river to run along, some beautiful palms that rose high over the kickboxing school, and a rooster that loved to crow at the wrong time of night. And, there were the temples up there that had impressed me, along with the grand palace with its gold spires, and Wat Arun rising in an intricately carved porcelain Khmer-style tower. All of that combined with what I was now experiencing made up Bangkok’s unique beauty, two sides to the tapestry that was Thailand.

  We soon headed back to the hotel, stopping to grab some papaya salad from a cart on the way. Jason asked for “American spicy,” and I nodded. That was the only way to really get as little spice as possible in Thailand, as saying mild or no spice always resulted in a burning mouth. It hit the spot, although my weak tongue was still on fire.

  When we reached the room, I wasn’t sure I needed the shower anymore, but figured it was best not to let the saltwater sit on me all night. A quick rinse and I felt ready to take on the world.

  “Dude,” Jason said as I emerged from the shower in my towel, “the Marines have been kind to you.”

  I glanced down at my body. My abs and pecs had been well-honed, a point of pride for me with my ex, but since the breakup I’d been going at it double-time. With the dim light casting shadows to enhance what I had, it made sense that he would be impressed.

  “Can you not check me out?” I said, turning to find my clothes and get dressed. On the spectrum from straight to gay, Jason fell more on the former side, but not as much as most of my buddies. I was fully there but was perfectly fine with my friends falling anywhere along the spectrum they wanted.


  “You’re so not my type,” he replied with a laugh. “Just giving a buddy a compliment. Last time I saw you, I mean, weren’t you, like, half as ripped?”

  “At most, probably,” I admitted. That had been before the Marine Corps Martial Arts program, before my Thai training, and before the breakup. Funny how Marines often had nothing to do but drink and exercise when not working their twelve-to-sixteen-hour shifts.

  “Well, keep your shirt on tonight. I don’t want you stealing all the hotties.”

  I laughed but nodded. “Deal.”

  He quickly showered and dressed, then we were off to make our mark on the island. He insisted we take a cab this time, no open air, although the cab didn’t smell much better. At night, the land held its own sort of mystique and beauty that quickly made me forget the smell. First stopping by a convenience store for him to buy condoms, we then made our way to what he said was the largest dance club on the island.

  “Let’s start with the regular chicks, right?” he said, leading me up the steps. “Only if that doesn’t work out, then we’ll hit up the red-light types.”

  “Not a bad strategy,” I admitted, more interested in chilling with him and hearing about life, but almost as intrigued about this last big hurrah of his.

  “Not bad at all,” a slender woman with a low-cut dress said, walking past. Did I detect French in her accent?

  “Hi,” he said.

  She turned on him, amused, but shook her head. “Sorry, after I heard your strategy? Not a chance.”

  “French bitch,” Jason muttered as she walked off.

  “You might want to keep the name-calling to a minimum,” I said, eyeing the huge bald dude she had wrapped her arms around. “And the talk of first this, then that stuff—makes you sound a little… single-minded?”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” he countered. “They want one thing,” he pointed to his crotch, “and I want one thing. Sometimes two. Plus, that guy? You could take him.”

  “I’m here to hang out with you, maybe have some fun if I’m lucky. Fighting because you want to be an ass? Not so much.”