Soi Cowboy

Isaac nervously tapped the side of his glass as he sat outside a bar in Soi Cowboy. His solitude was noticeable in this seedy district of Bangkok, as if the working girls had been instructed to give him a wide berth on this stormy night.

He stared intensely at the reflection of the Fallen Angel’s pink neon sign, glistening off the rainwater that washed away the sins of this dirty old town. The monsoon downfall beat out a rhythm on the rusty tin roof in time to the folk-rock classic “A Horse with No Name”, which happened to be playing on the neglected PA system.

He raised his hand to grab the attention of the teenaged barmaid. She was run off her feet, ensuring the predominantly male clientele were lubricated enough to make bad decisions. None the less, she immediately ran to his tableside. “Yes?”

“Jack and Coke.”

She let her disgust be known in a single tut, then hurried back to the bar to order his drink from the manageress, who had been watching Isaac from the corner of her eye.

Isaac anxiously checked his fake green Rolex Oyster wristwatch as he rocked his empty glass back and forth. His ill-fitting skin was abnormally clammy on this stormy night, suggesting something other than the sapping humidity was at play. Isaac had been living in Thailand for a little over eight years but hadn’t acclimatised to the local weather or ways.

The bargirl returned and placed his drink on a freshly laid-out beer mat. “Mister Isaac.”

He reached into the pocket of his red flower-print shirt, half-buttoned to reveal his fresh crop of grey chest hair, and tipped her. “Make sure you keep them coming.”

Tingling pleasure rippled across his tongue as he tipped the frosted glass back and downed the double measure. The sound of chair legs being dragged across the cracked paving summoned his attention. Two Thai men in garish oversized American streetwear sat down at his table.

“Isaac,” said the older of the two men.

“Keit,” replied Isaac through gritted teeth.

Keit had a face you didn’t linger on. An ocular chemical burn to his right eye was raw, a telltale sign that he had recently been promoted to a hitman for the Oros crime family. A prominent green and red tattoo of a tiger pouncing from the flames suggested he was a lifelong member. Whereas his partner’s face was adorned with dark green Thai characters, signifying he’d been recruited in Klong Prem prison and was most probably a foot soldier with a lot to prove.

“Who’s he?” asked Isaac, slightly concerned by the presence of the bald, muscular twenty-something man who was menacingly staring him down.

“This is Chen.”

Keit spoke with a heavy Thai accent. His English was unhurried and somewhat cumbersome. Regardless, he was fluent enough to terrify English-speaking business owners who were unfortunate enough to become entangled with the Thai mafia.

“What’s he doing here? We agreed to come alone,” asked Isaac.

“You came alone?”

“Yes.”

Keit surveyed the bar's patrons to see if Isaac had answered honestly, then leant back, so the chair balanced on the back two legs and looked under the table. “You don’t have the money with you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“That’s very disappointing.”

Isaac’s hands squeezed into fists, and he pounded the table. “Screw you, Keit. You’ve extorted your last baht from us.”

“Mr Isaac, we’re not gangsters. We’re businessmen.”

“If it walks like a duck.”

Keit reached into the back pocket of his dark blue, baggy jean shorts and pulled out a small, black notebook. He thumbed through the pages to find Isaac’s wife’s account. “With interest, Anoug now owes us four million Baht.”

“That’s outrageous. My wife only borrowed six hundred thousand from you to buy this bar.”

Keit laughed sarcastically, then stopped abruptly and narrowed his brow. “No, no. Your wife borrowed an additional three million Baht from us months ago.”

Isaac’s heart rate quickened as he knew that people had gone missing for far less in this city. “Anoug borrowed three million from you? I had no idea.”

“It would seem so,” answered Keit deliberately as he placed his notebook back in his pocket. “Mr Isaac, I don’t understand. If you don’t have our money, why are you here?”

Isaac reached behind his back and pulled out a matte black snub-nosed Taurus 857 revolver from under his belt. He calmly placed the gun on the table with his index finger on the trigger. “I’m not leaving without my wife and kids.”

“Your wife and kids?”

“I swear if you’ve harmed my family, I’ll...”

This was not the first time a gun had been pulled on Keit, but it had been a while since somebody had gained the upper hand. He quickly considered all the moves as the beads of sweat began to form on his brow. “Mr Isaac, do you think we’ve kidnapped your family?”

“Yes.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Collateral.”

Keit began to laugh and nudged Chen to follow suit because he didn't know what was being said. “You think your family is worth three million. No. No. No. They are of no worth to us.”

“So, you didn’t take them?”

“No. We don’t know where your wife is, but if she’s left town, her debt is now your debt.”

The imported bourbon clouded Isaac’s powers of deduction, and he stumbled to conclude the obvious. “Wait, are you saying she left me? No, she’d never leave me.”

Keit rolled his shoulders. “You should have known that a sixteen-year-old girl from the country was not a fitting choice for a wife and mother. What did you expect? You’d find the happily ever after from American movies in the backrooms of Bangkok?”

Isaac swivelled the gun, so the barrel pointed at Keit. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

Keit measured up the situation and decided to provoke Isaac. “It seems your wife is both a whore and a liar.”

Isaac puffed out his chest. “Don’t push me, Keit. Listen, even if I did believe you and she has borrowed that much from you, I don’t have that kind of money.”

Keit gently stroked his chin as he calculated his next move. “I’m sorry to hear that. I truly am, but I must insist this debt is settled in full tonight.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to demand anything.”

“Why? Because you have a gun?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“You’re not a killer. You don’t have it in you to pull that trigger.”

“Really? Are you willing to bet your life on it?”

Keit tapped his fingers on the table, “This is a regrettable situation. We need to leave here with our money or something of equal value.”

“Take the bar,” said Isaac, desperate for a quick resolution.

“No. We already own the bar. It was used as collateral for the first loan.”

“What? I didn’t agree to that?”

“Did you read the contract?”

“No, it was in Thai, but our lawyer did.”

“The lawyer your wife hired, the lawyer we recommended to her?”

“Oh God, what did she do?” said Isaac, regretting his lethargic tendencies.

Keit leant forward and spoke softly. “If you don’t have the cash, we’ll have to take you.”

A dizzying rush of adrenaline flooded Isaac’s system as he contemplated fight or flight. “If you kill me, you’ll get nothing.”

Keit leaned back in his chair. “No. We’re not going to kill you, merely borrow your identity.”

“My identity?” questioned Isaac.

“Yes, identity. You see, we have numerous associates that would pay handsomely for an American identity—especially one belonging to a middle-aged white man with multiple bank accounts and credit cards. You see, your identity is very valuable in this part of the world. I’d say your identity is worth approximately seven million Bhat.”

Isaac twisted the wedding ring on his finger. “Yeah, but in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of using my identity.”

“You were, Mr Isaac.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Anong told us all about you. You sit here all day drinking the profits and disrespecting our girls while your wife runs this bar and raises your kid.”

“What? Without me, this place would have gone under years ago.”

“You really believe that?” scoffed Keit.

“Yeah, you’re damn right. I’m the life and soul of this bar,” answered Isaac, half-believing his own bullshit.

Keit smiled as he shook his head. “You honestly think that your drunken rants and vulgar outbursts are why this bar is busy? No. You’re nothing more than a cautionary tale that reminds foreigners to have their fun, then leave.”

He sat in silent rage and gently squeezed the trigger just enough to feel the hammer tension but not release the firing pin. “If you kill me, my friends and family will notify the police.”

“Who said anything about killing you? We’re just going to hold you until you’re of no value to us."

Isaac tripped on his words, “You’ll never get away with it.”

Keit shrugged, “I think we will. Anoug told us that no one ever calls you, and it’s unlikely any of your so-called friends would trouble themselves to come looking for you if you don’t contact them.”

Isaac pulled the trigger, and a surge of chaos spread out from the epicentre of the blast. People fled in every direction, and those that couldn’t run hid out of sight. That is all but the three men, who remained in their seats. Isaac gazed at the smoking gun on the table. “I don’t understand?”

Keit and Chen hadn’t flinched. “Well done, Isaac! You have what it takes to be a stone-cold killer. But you really should have checked if the gun was loaded with live rounds or blanks.”

“How did you know?”

“Where do you think your manageress got that gun from?”

Isaac’s eyelids felt the tug of gravity, and his head dropped to his chest. “What did you do?” he asked groggily.

Keit leaned to one side to catch Isaac’s eyes, “You’ve been drugged, Mr Isaac.”

“Drugged?” slurred Isaac.

Keit stood up and tilted Isaac’s head back. “This will all feel like a dream.”

“You’ll never …” gurgled Isaac as he drifted to and from the abyss.

“We already have. Anoug sold us your identity, Mr Isaac. She provided us with all your passwords and account numbers before she returned to her village.”

Robbed of his voice, Isaac looked down at the sediment in his glass. “No …”

“Don’t worry, Mr Isaac, I’d say you’d rather enjoy the cocktail of chemicals we’ve prepared for you. Most of our guests never want to leave, even after they’ve paid their bill,” said Keit, as he signalled to the driver parked at the end of the block.

The body Isaac had inhabited for forty-one years now felt cold and unfamiliar as a wave of fear washed away all remembrances of his humanity. The regrets of a lifetime haunted him as Keit and Chen dragged him to the waiting minivan.

He fought to scream out for help but to no avail. All he was capable of was a garbled moan as the two men bundled him into the back of the van. The echo of Keit’s final words reverberated for infinity in the cold dark recesses of his mind.

The End.