The Story in my Eyes

by Joanna Noble (Thailand)

A leap into the unknown Thailand

A Leap into the Unknown: The Story in my Eyes I ought to have felt lighter, free, like a seeded dandelion dancing in the wind, but I was jetlagged and annoyed. I dragged my heavy blue canvas suitcase through the sand, the broken handle a metaphor, mocking my own brokenness. The sand wasn’t even white and silky, it was just billions of tiny grey pebbles that were once glorious rocks. Once strong, then beaten down relentlessly by the ocean surf, destined to be nothing more than an annoyance in someone’s sandal. The Bay was not the clear turquoise waters I expected either, sickly brownish/blue and dominated by idling tourist recreation boats. Exhausted and sweaty, I sat on the sand, looking to the ocean asking, as if to get an answer. What did I expect to find here? Happy people in brightly colored floral shirts, drinking pina Coladas out of coconut shells, blissfully laughing and chatting for endless hours in breezy beach tiki huts? Yes, this is what I expected, so much so, that I left everything and everyone I ever loved behind and bought a one-way ticket here. I checked into my room, on a small street off the beach road. It was musty and desperately needed a deep clean, the boozy, cigarette stench of the last tenant lingered like my regrets, always seemingly fun at the time. An old tube tv, a windowless, claustrophobic bathroom with a ‘shower’ directly above the toilet. I turned on the tap, there was no hot water, but at least there was water. I sat on the bed, the hard surface a stained box spring and mattress, no bedding of any kind, no sheets, no towels folded like swans. I tried to ask the lady who handed me my keys where the blankets were, she stared at me blankly, blinked and walked out of the room closing the door behind her. This was what I could afford, I’d figure it out I reassured myself. I stood and walked over to the iron-barred window, pulling the dusty peach curtains back hoping for a view. Directly adjacent to me, all I could see was the back of a rusted building, home to a sad, dirty air conditioner hanging on to a cracked window for dear life. I reached my arm through the bars covering my window, like one might in a jail cell, trying to grasp at something that is just out of reach. I heard a stray cat meow below my window, I wondered if he was as lost as I felt. I decided to leave my room, go get a strong cocktail on the beach and watch the sunset. I sat at the wooden bar and the man behind it gave me my drink. I paid and gave him a small tip, he said thanks with a half-toothed smile and pocketed the coins. There was an elderly man sitting directly across from me, the remainder of his hair bleached and weathered, his bare potbelly glowing red from time in the sun. His only concern seemed to be the young Thai woman sitting beside him, she only stared at his gold watch. A man in an orange vest came beside me, holding up a tattered laminated page that had pictures of cars, I think. ‘Madam! You need taxi?’ ‘No, thank you.’ I replied as I returned my gaze to the sea. ‘Madam!’ He asked more insistently in broken English, ‘Where you go?’ I didn’t answer, he asked louder, shouting at me. ‘WHERE. YOU. GO?!” I stood up, faced him and yelled back, ‘I don’t fucking know!’ I stormed away from the bar to the beach, I sat there for a while cooling down. In my rage and frustration, I grabbed a stick that I found beside me and began stabbing the sand, feverishly carving my name into it. I let out a guttural scream and collapsed, throwing the stick into the ocean. I sat in defeat, watching the rhythmic waves lick my name away, erasing everything. Not only my name but all of me, all of the person I used to be. I watched as I disappeared completely.