Corpus of a Siam Mosquito

by Steven David Justin Sills

“Oh, God,” he heard Kazem’s voice. Surprisingly, it wasn’t angry. He heard footsteps of restless movement. “Oh, God,” he heard again. Then he heard the footsteps move toward him. The movements were slow and careful. He opened his eyes and saw his brother. Kazem was scratching his head in confusion.

“I’m sorry buddy. I’m so sorry. I know I’m late saying that, but fuck, you were ready to throw a television into my head. I don’t know how all that happened, but what a mess. Why did you have to get yourself all doped like that at this time-especially this time; and oh, fuck, did you get into my whiskey? You did, you little thief! Right? Right? Was that a nod? Was that a nod? Do you like that? I’ll pull your ears off the way father nearly did. Man, we’ve got an appointment! Did you take anything besides sniffing this stuff? I mean besides drinking my liquor and sniffing glue was there a third thing? Think: I’ve got to know how serious!” This had been one of Jatupon’s only times of being in the cell and flying within his own head. Nearly all the other times he had gone out to the streets to gain his high and stayed there until he was able to return home halfway sober and feign a sickness successfully. He regretted being witnessed and scrutinized by Kazem. The environment was bouncing to the cadence of Kazem’s voice and stung Jatupon’s hands through the conduit of the rubbery stickiness of desiccated glue that still hung in patches from some of his fingertips. He was pulled into the shower with underpants still on. The hair of his head was locked in Kazem’s fingers. He could smell the sweetness of his brother’s sweat. He could smell his body odor like any dog getting its molecular high. Jatupon thought it was very romantic. He smiled widely at Kazem whose fingers clenched him by the throat pinning him against the back wall of the shower as the cold waters ran over him and through his underpants. Jatupon fought like a suffocating fish and when he was free from the loosened grasp he gasped and then kissed and licked the body that he was denuding—the same body that had brought him near death but the same one who had saved him from drowning long ago when he was a boy.

Then after a good long vomit and a brief nap he exited with his brother into the light rain and they were off to see the wizard. They went by taxi with the idea of picking up Suthep along the way. Kazem waited in the taxi while Jatupon knocked on Suthep’s door. Jatupon knocked, stood, and waited repeatedly for five or ten minutes without success. Then he began to return to the taxi looking down and scrapping his feet against dirt and rocks like a child preferring to be left alone in his imagination.

But when he returned the taxi had turned into a limousine like a pumpkin into a carriage. He wondered if he was hallucinating once again. Then standing there like a diffident and disconcerted child in total confusion, he noticed the window descending for him and out poked the head of the fetid one but his hair was cut, greased back, and nicely groomed, his face was shaven, and the cologne or aftershave lotion that he was wearing had molecules that poignantly bit into Jatupon’s psyche favorably. Here was a dark but handsome man. He never knew him, before, to be such. “Get in you little Monkey—up front with the driver.” When Jatupon was seated comfortably in softness and space he glanced back at his three brothers who reclined in an opulent shadow.

“Cheers, Jatuporn,” said Kumpee.

Kazem clanged his glass against the glasses held by Kumpee and Suthep. “Cheers to every boy, girl, hollering hound, and wide spread whore on the planet,” said Kazem. Suthep and Kumpee laughed.

“Yes, I’ll have to say my cheers to them too,” said Kumpee. All three brothers were drinking wine in the back seat.

“Should we give him something?” asked Suthep.

“Are you kidding,” said Kazem. “That boy goes places we can only dream about. No more fuel for that tank. He’s been there, done that. He’s gone on one round trip today. That’s enough.” He drank more of his wine. “Sometimes I have to sleep with one eye open to make sure he doesn’t drift further into mischief.”

“Did you like how we fucked up your mind?” Kumpee asked Kazem. “It was Suthep’s idea of parking on the corner. When you didn’t leave the taxi we still waited a little until you fell into a smoking addiction. Suthep said, ‘Just wait, he’ll go into the 7-11’ and that is exactly what happened. While you were in there buying your cigarettes we paid off the taxi driver and sent him away. Then we parked in his place.”