Here
concludes the three-part serialisation of Peter Mitchell's Children of Om
Peter Mitchell was educated, unhappily,
at Eton and Trinity College Cambridge. He stood for parliament on gay
rights issues during a central London election – a campaign described
in The Peculiar History of Oliver Trent. After spending the twenty
“best” years of his life drafting bills for backbenchers and fighting
them through parliament, only to see them thwarted by the government,
Peter took advantage of a small inheritance and went freelance. When
the friend with whom he had shared a house for 18 years died suddenly,
Peter decided to leave England and live with his Thai lover in Pattaya.
He spends the Thai monsoon season in an isolated finca in the foothills
of the Sierra Nevada, southern Spain. His style is taut and sardonic –
a radio rather than a television play, where the readers have to eke
out the spare text with their own imaginations.
If you haven't read the first parts, go to Part I & Part II
41
The first deliberate suicide of one of Oliver Marshall’s children occurred three months after the family meeting in Korat, at which Nok Matcha (alias Dr Nicholas Marshall) had described the results of his research into the trisomy. Despite an impassioned plea from Din Matcha, the majority had agreed that Nok could publish his research on the condition of anonymity. Nok agreed and no one listening to his inaugural lecture as Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Trinity College Cambridge, had any idea that the data on which his theory was based had been provided by himself, his brother and Oliver Marshall. Indeed it is unlikely that any in his audience realised that there was a human dimension, so overwhelming was the complexity of the mathematics. Acknowledgment was made to the pioneering work of the two Nobel Laureates, Professors Wisdom and Witayagorn, but the actual link between the data was deliberately obfuscated. Nok received polite applause and the text of his lecture was buried in an international journal on genetics.
If the Cambridge lecture could be called a modest success, the previous presentation in Korat proved to be a disaster. To be sure, Nok received permission to publish and he was satisfied that he had fulfilled his ethical duty in letting his siblings know what the future had in store for them. He had forgotten, however, how long it had been since he had spoken Thai and the difficulty in presenting arguments with the precision of English. Practically no one in the room received the same message. The majority did not comprehend the story of Oliver’s rejuvenation, and those that grasped the idea tried vainly to adapt it to Buddhist teaching. Those who remembered Oliver at all found that he looked much as they would have expected. A few picked up the idea that they were not going to die and immediately assumed they were immortal. All the brothers and sisters with the genetic mutation knew that they were growing old faster than average and most had taken advantage of their more immature contemporaries. The only advice that Nok gave them was to keep in touch with their unaffected siblings, so that they had someone who understood their condition when a change took place. No one understood the genetics or Nok’s elegant mathematical model; everyone was left completely in the dark as to what would cause the change and what it would be. If anything determined the vote it was Din’s blustering speech. His political success had elicited more jealousy than admiration. Like Nok he was tainted by his “anglicisation”; but his sin was the greater since he had used it so blatantly for his personal advantage. Of those who thought they followed the consequences of Nok’s exposition, roughly half believed it was good news and half that it was bad. They could all agree, however, that if it was bad for Din it had a silver lining.
Mit Matcha was the only person who was able to follow Nok’s argument and grasp some of the implications. He was the youngest (by a matter of days) of Oliver’s children. Born without the trisomy in the anonymity of Bangkok, he had enjoyed a normal childhood, was married with two children and was working as a psychiatrist. He divided his time between a local government hospital and the largest international hospital in the capital, which provided the bulk of his income. He had become particularly well known for his work with people with HIV. Once generic retroviral drugs had become freely available, the nature of psychiatric work with affected patients changed completely. Many found it more difficult accepting that they were going to live than the previous inevitability of an early death. Mit had an intuition that the problems of coming to terms with the effects of the trisomy might be very similar to living with HIV.
It was the news of Golf Matcha’s suicide that persuaded Mit to obtain a part time consultancy at Korat General Hospital. From what he could learn, Nok’s talk had not been a direct factor in Golf’s decision to shoot himself through the roof of his mouth, but it was impossible to be sure. The immediate cause had been the decision of New, Golf’s wife, to leave him. She told Mit quite openly that now in her early thirties, she had decided she wanted children and did not want to run the risk of bearing one of Golf’s. Therapeutic abortion of abnormal foetuses had been legalised, but it was still offensive to the culture and New would not consider it. Mit doubted that the circumstances of Golf and New were unique, but he was unsure what his best approach would be. Since Fah Matcha had become a national politician, the support networks she had developed in Korat in her adolescence had broken down. Nevertheless Mit decide that Fah was the best person with whom to discuss his concerns.
When Oliver Marshall returned to England with Nok he found his mother, Mary, in hospital. She had tripped over her bitch, Shandy, and had broken her right hip and her collarbone. Oliver blamed himself for leaving her alone but Mary said that was nonsense and that the fault had been solely her own carelessness. She had thrown herself into physiotherapy with a passion and was talking of being back on the golf course within a month. Oliver knew that Mary dreaded the possibility of being immobile and inactive and refused to contemplate it.
She discharged herself from hospital without first warning Oliver and arrived when he was just returning from walking the dog. When she eased herself out of the taxi onto her sticks, Shandy, overjoyed to see her mistress after such a long absence, leapt up to slobber her face. Mary crashed to the ground. This time she lost consciousness and never recovered.
A week later Oliver attended for the second time the funeral of Mary Marshall at St Mary’s Amblesham. For the second time the house was sold and Oliver inherited a fortune he did not need. A third generation Fothergill had drawn up the will and, to Oliver’s surprise and disgust, had included a bequest to himself twice as great as Mary had allocated to charity. Oliver, however, was more than adequately provided for and was content to leave the matter to Fothergill’s conscience, supposing, of course, solicitors are endowed with one.
Oliver was deeply shocked by Mary’s death and, as Nok predicted, he appeared to lose a dozen years over night. Yet despite his sadness, Oliver knew that death was natural and that it was he and the children he had so unfortunately sired who were abnormal. His conscience drove him to find a solution, which did not involve mass suicide and which would absolve him from his guilt. Oliver instinctively knew that the answer lay in Thailand and not in genetics or mathematics. Nok’s research had only explained the mechanics of the trisomy, not how the mutant genes could be cured or replaced.
For the rest of the English summer Oliver rented an apartment in Cambridge. He spent his days reading all he could find about Thailand and Thai culture and in the evenings Nok laboriously taught him the language, a language which twenty years before Oliver had been able to read and write far better than his son could now. He had asked Sunny to look for a house in Korat where they and Fah could live together and by November, when the rains had ceased, Oliver installed himself with them in a veritable palace, set in its own grounds, with a swimming pool, fountains and an aviary.
When Nok had brought Oliver home from Spain, Oliver had already inherited two fortunes and he now had a third. With a child’s ignorance of the value of money and confusion over exchange rates he had transferred to Sunny ten times the amount she had requested. In order to facilitate his immigration Sunny suggested, half in jest, that she should fulfil her childhood dream and marry her angel. Oliver was overwhelmed with happiness. After the civil ceremony the three of them were blessed at the local temple, with Fah fulfilling the quadruple role of best man, matron of honour, daughter of the groom and spouse of the bride.
42
David, my boy, let me be the first to congratulate you.” The call from the White House came immediately on Din’s arrival at the prime minister’s office on his return from the Palace. The president chatted for a few minutes and expressed the hope that Thailand’s new prime minister would take an early opportunity of visiting the United States.
Din began to feel worried. The seemingly innocuous conversation had clearly been designed to warn him that not only did the USA know precisely where he was at any time but also that they knew he was David Marshall, a British citizen. Nok’s lecture had been ignored in Thailand – Professor Nicholas Marshall was of no local interest and his paper was incomprehensible. Din was in no doubt, however, that the CIA had it on file and would have succeeded in matching up the dots.
These thoughts were, however, forgotten when the president casually commented, “Oh, by the way, we think the Chinese are about to make a move. Perhaps they think they can take advantage of the change in government. The credit lines are open. Good luck.”
Din’s private secretary was taking notes on an extension and when the call was over asked, “David? And what does he mean about the Chinese?”
“That was what they called me at Harvard. Din is not very appropriate in English. The Chinese are rather more important. Please get me the trade secretary.” The Chinese had indeed been astute in provoking a crisis before Din had been able to choose his new cabinet and appoint his successor at the finance ministry. Fortunately, the trade secretary was reliable and he assured Din that the department’s officials at the entry points on the Mekong were fully prepared. His latest information was that there had been a slight increase in Chinese imports, but this could be attributed to the weakening of the monsoon.
“Nevertheless, please put all your offices on red alert and instruct the local wholesalers to offer all unusual bulk purchases to the government before distribution. Pay particular attention to shipment of rice.”
“Rice, prime minister? Thailand is the world’s largest exporter of rice and the Chinese do not have enough to feed themselves.”
“I have information that the Chinese plan to provoke a political crisis within ASEAN. Of course dumping rice on the Thai market makes no economic sense; but you know how sensitive the price is. A drop of even a few baht a kilo would cause widespread anger and could destroy me overnight. This is the Chinese intention. Happily more powerful friends are determined to thwart them.”
The following morning Thai traders reported that Chinese merchants were offering fragrant rice at five baht a kilo below the market rate. They were instructed to buy all on offer and resell it to the department at a one baht premium. The next day twice as much was on offer at an even lower price. At 6.00pm Laos state television announced that the Lao government had invited the People’s Liberation Army to enter the country in order to assist in the eradication of counter-revolutionary bandits. Although Washington was only just waking up, the American ambassador in Bangkok issued an immediate joint statement with the Thai government condemning the invasion and committing the US government to upholding democracy and free trade in the region. Within ASEAN, only the geriatric military dictators in Burma backed the Chinese intervention, while the Vietnamese mobilised their armed forces along their borders with Laos and the People’s Republic. For no evident reason, South-East Asia appeared on the brink of another war.
Rice continued to pour down the Mekong and into the Thai government’s warehouses. From there it was transported by lorry to Laem Chabang port on the eastern seaboard and shipped to the United Nations emergency stores. The price of rice on the Thai market wobbled slightly, but recovered when the government was seen to be in full control. The effect on the Lao economy of the invasion was, however, devastating. The official state-controlled economy was all forms and no substance. The black market was controlled by Thais and conducted in Thai baht and government officials were more than happy to supplement their valueless kip with real money under the counter. During the day before the announcement of the friendly assistance of the PLA, a billion baht was repatriated from Laos to Thailand. Subsequently the Lao government argued that it was this unfriendly act which had forced it to seek Chinese help, but leaked messages from Beijing berating Vientiane for its incompetence substantiated the absurdity of the claim.
Within a fortnight the Chinese government crumbled. The governor of Yunnan province announced that the population was facing starvation because all their reserves of rice had been plundered to resource the failed attempt to destabilise Thailand. The United Nations arranged to sell its own rice back to China at market prices and the Chinese president resigned and disappeared.
The PLA retreated from Laos taking the Lao politburo with them. Thai baht flowed back into the country accompanied by the UN secretary general’s high representative, who organised a council to draft a constitution and prepare elections. The president of the United States telephoned Din Matcha again.
“Not bad work for your first two weeks in power, toppling two commie governments without a drop of blood. I do hope you will keep me informed of your future plans!”
* * *
Din was under no illusions that he had been a pawn of the CIA; but this did not prevent him from accepting the plaudits of a grateful nation. What he could not imagine, and what he was sure he would never know, was how the CIA had manoeuvred the Chinese into making such an astounding error of judgement.
Thailand’s supremacy in South-East Asia was now unquestioned and Din embarked on a tour of the regional capitals in order to assure his anxious colleagues that he had no intention of establishing a hegemony. He invited all ASEAN members to participate in the economic regeneration of Laos. Nevertheless, the facts on the ground were that Thailand’s “little brothers” in Laos were effectively integrated into the economy of Esan, Thai’s north-eastern region with whom they practically shared a common language. Cambodia’s independence was also hardly less fictitious with a tacit agreement between Thailand and Vietnam not to tread on each other’s toes. Mianmar refused to welcome Din Matcha, possibly in fear that his visit would provoke a revolution; yet commentators began openly speculating on the imminent demise of the regime now that its only ally had retired to lick its wounds.
One personal and difficult decision for Din to make was whether to invite his sister, Fah, to join his government. Her talents were not open to question; but she needed always to be leader of the pack and would resent having to submit to her brother’s authority. Din invited her to a private meeting at Government House. He broached the subject tangentially.
“How long have you now been chairing the public accounts committee? Are you thinking of a move in any direction?”
Fah was immediately suspicious. “ So you think I am doing too good a job and want to get rid of me, do you?”
“Not at all. I mean that of course your work has been excellent, but I wondered if you might want to take on some more direct responsibility for policy.”
“So you are offering me a cabinet post? Do you think we could work together?”
Din winced. Diplomacy was not Fah’s strongest suit, yet paradoxically that was the job he had in mind.
“I was thinking of something rather more independent. I am sure you know Laos far better than I do, but to put it mildly I get the impression that the empowerment of women there has a long way to go. With you as Thailand’s ambassador in Vientiane there would be an unequivocal demonstration that political power is not a male prerogative. Don’t react immediately, but think about it over the weekend and discuss it with Sunny. It would mean a by-election in Korat and I can think of no one better fitted to step into your shoes.”
Fah agreed to consider the proposal and the following Monday she telephoned her brother to give her assent.
43
Fah’s posting to Vientiane and Sunny’s subsequent election as a member of parliament left Oliver feeling slightly aggrieved. He feared that instead of a warm family circle he would be left for most of the time alone in the splendid isolation of his extravagant palace. Fah, however, was also determined not to be separated from Sunny and she had exacted from her brother the use of an army helicopter and pilot whenever she wanted, which enabled her to reach their home in Korat from the embassy in less than an hour. Sunny herself, with help from Oliver, was able to employ an efficient secretariat, which allowed her to limit her appearances in Bangkok to the minimum. She discovered the delights of having somewhere elegant in which to entertain her constituents; before the end of the year her soirees and garden parties had become the principal events on the local social calendar.
One of Oliver’s first visitors was his youngest son. Mit was more nervous than Oliver and was self-conscious about his limited command of English. Oliver, however, put him at his ease immediately and they agreed to have regular conversations in which each would speak the other’s language.
Mit found Oliver extraordinarily refreshing. He was mature and in no way childish; he gave the impression of a philosopher who had reverted to a childlike faith after solving the problems of the world, rather than of someone who had simply never experienced them. Oliver accepted the fact of his multiple offspring as if it were a fairy tale and asked Mit to tell him all he knew about each of them. Oliver leaped at the suggestion that, when the premises were not required by Sunny, he should host family gatherings. In this way Mit would be able to discern problems which his brothers and sisters might be unwilling to bring direct to his consulting room.
At first few of Oliver’s children attended, but over time the numbers grew and Mit (who in Bangkok as a child had only heard rumours of the Matcha gangs in Korat) was surprised at how easily, even eagerly, the half brothers and sisters bonded.
* * *
The foreign ministry had decided that Thailand needed a new embassy in Vientiane and that it should in no way be inferior to that of the United States of America. Fah scoffed at the masculine lust for creating monuments, but did not consider this was a battle worth fighting. The new Lao government was only too happy to sell several acres of a prime site on the banks of the Mekong at an inflated price and to benefit from the employment the construction would provide for several years. With the money they received they were able to embark on various public health and sanitation projects, which the defunct dictatorship had been promising vacuously for a score of years.
Following the modus operandi she had used so successfully in Thailand, Fah began to traverse Laos in order to discover women who could assert themselves and provide the basis for the country’s recovery. She found them among the “barefoot doctor” community health projects, which the dictatorship had reluctantly allowed international voluntary organisations to develop. The official male community leaders, whose allegiance had been to the ancien regime, were politely sidelined.
Without exception, the health project co-ordinators told Fah that their principal problem had simply been the impossibility of co-ordination without any means of communication or the ability to unite regionally, let alone nationally. Fah imported laptop computers and mobile phones through diplomatic channels and recruited a battalion of Esan students to explain how they worked. The most zealous of the Lao workers was installed in the US embassy, where she could foment female empowerment without interference from the Lao government.
Fah simply brushed aside the recurrent protestations of the Lao foreign secretary. She knew that Thai dominance in the country could only be temporary, so she was determined to make an irreversible transfer of power to her sex in the time that was available to her.
* * *
Since the Thai military had finally retired to their barracks for good, successive premiers had concentrated political power in the prime minister’s office. It was hardly in Din’s character to seek to reverse the process and he established a “kitchen cabinet” of the brightest and best young civil servants, whose principal role was to ensure that ministers never deviated from the policy dictated by Din Matcha. One of these, seconded from the foreign office, rapidly became Din’s closest confidant. Nirun Somsak was in his twenties and, like Din, had been a graduate student at Harvard. Whenever Din was working late and most of the staff had gone home, he invariably found that if he asked for something from the outer office it was Nirun who brought it to him.
The years of power had taken their toll on Din’s body, which was now seriously overweight and the subject of levity in political cartoons. He had also developed a persistent allergy, which he preferred to blame on the air-conditioning rather than anything for which he was responsible. Always a temperate drinker, he had now taken to concealing a bottle of scotch malt whisky in his desk as a nightcap before he was driven back to his residence. One evening, Nirun entered the inner office with a cable and was surprised not so much as to see Din drinking as at the expression of anger and guilt that crossed the face of the prime minister.
“Are you all right, prime minister? You look as if you have a slight headache. Perhaps I can help”
Before Din could reply, Nirun had gone behind his chair and started massaging Din’s neck. The sensation was incredible. It was as if the multitudinous mental and physical enemies that beset him had decided to surrender and vanish one by one.
“I think it would be good for your health, and a fortiori for that of the nation, if I were to give you a massage every evening. I know how little time you have to relax.”
Din could not remember the last time that anyone had spoken to him with a caress in their voice. The sudden perception of his loneliness overcame his resistance. Nirun removed the piles of documents from a chaise longue and covered it with a couple of towels, which had mysteriously materialised. He then removed Din’s tie and shirt and began to massage his back.
“I think you would be more comfortable on the settee, sir.”
Din allowed himself to be eased from his chair and led over to the couch. As he braced himself on his arms and prepared to lower himself down, Nirun deftly removed his trousers. As Nirun`s hands began to move firmly up and down his spine, Din drifted into sleep.
“Shall I ask your chauffeur to be ready in ten minutes, sir?”
Din had no idea of the time. He felt a damp patch on the towel and wondered if Nirun had realised that he had ejaculated.
“Yes please,” Din replied, rather brusquely in his disappointment at the disruption of his reverie.
Nirun left the office and Din hastily cleaned himself and put his clothes back on. A light above his private lift indicated that his car was waiting below. Din descended without waiting for Nirun to return. Nirun re-entered the office immediately, removed the towels and replaced the documents. He switched on his mobile phone and sent a one-word message in English, “dined”.
44
Nok, too, felt lonely after his grandmother’s death, but he accepted the fact as a natural part of existence. His solitude was not that of the omnipotent politician, but of the philosopher. He was reconciled to his Lucasian chair marking the end of his career and, while fulfilling his duties conscientiously, he was content to leave the remaining frontiers of mathematics to younger brains. He spent more time in small coteries of philosophers and religious thinkers, although he only made a contribution if he was pressed to do so. He discovered, without much surprise, that the great ethical philosophers from whatever century and whatever part of the world preached much the same message; and that those who used religion as a political tool were responsible for most of the evil in the world. The more radical Christians appeared to believe that heaven and hell were here on earth and that God was not an exterior force, but was immanent in each and every human being. Nok had difficulty understanding precisely what “immanent” meant, but their position seemed to him far more Buddhist than Christian. As a consequence they hardly ever mentioned a life to come, except in ritual prayers.
One evening, however, a visiting fellow put Nok on the spot. He had only just read Nok’s professorial lecture and, ignoring the mathematics, asked if Nok had drawn any philosophical conclusions from his findings.
“You see, Nicholas, no Christian philosopher any longer has any belief in the Dante rose bowl vision of paradise or anything like it; neither, as far as I know, do Buddhist philosophers place much emphasis on reincarnation. Nevertheless, if your discovery had occurred a century ago, I am sure each religion would have tried to interpret it in favour of their beliefs. Superficially it has more consonance with Buddhism does it not?”
Nok did not betray his unease. No one at Cambridge knew that he himself had the mutant gene and that the question was intensely personal.
“I have been very careful, Richard, not to stray beyond the physics into metaphysics. The only comment I am willing to make is this. It would be remarkable if a single genetic mutation in one individual at one point in time could have any philosophical message for the whole of humanity. And in case anyone should be so absurd to do so, there can be no comparison between Oliver Trent and Jesus of Nazareth. The phenomenon of Oliver Trent is one which can be wholly explained within the laws of physics. As I understand it the whole underpinning of Christianity is that the resurrection cannot.”
Nevertheless, that night Nok found it hard to get to sleep. In many ways Oliver Trent or Oliver Marshall was more mysterious than Jesus of Nazareth, whose divinity was continually being reinterpreted. Philosophers had traditionally prepared themselves for death, whether or not they believed in a future life. Some, like the Stoics, had even advocated suicide while still in perfect health; and Nok thought sadly of the great minds he had known, which had vegetated for years before death in the grip of Alzheimer’s disease. And how should he prepare himself for his unique fate? Could any mental preparation enable his future self to remember his past life? There was no way of knowing; but Nok instinctively felt that there could be no better preparation than Dhamma, the path of Buddhism.
* * *
The only person with whom Nok could communicate about his worries was his father. Oliver had now completely shed his childlike senility and had thrown himself exuberantly into his role as chef de cabinet for both Fah and Sunny. All three of them now looked the same age and if anyone found their menage a trois somewhat strange, not even the most scurrilous media dared to cast aspersions in view of the overwhelming political power wielded by the family.
Oliver believed all that Nok had told him about his past lives, but paid no more heed to them than he would have to his father’s and grandfather’s; his attention was firmly fixed in the present. As for his personal future, he saw no immediate disadvantage in growing younger. The constant love he had received since his transformation had created a quite different character from that of Oliver Trent, whose life from beginning to end had been a perpetual mystery to him.
In one e-mail to Nok, Oliver casually mentioned an extraordinary experience.
Yesterday I was helping Sunny look after a visiting delegation of Japanese members of parliament. Their official interpreter had collapsed with food poisoning and ours had simply failed to turn up. I was also slightly late, and when I arrived Sunny was desperately trying to communicate in sign language and snatches of English. To my complete surprise I found I could understand everything the Japanese were saying and had no difficulty replying in their language. What do you make of that?
Oliver changed the subject, but Nok could not concentrate on the rest of the e-mail. Nok knew, of course, that Oliver had had a Japanese lover and had worked at Tokyo university for several years. Yet he had also been fluent in Thai and had had no recollection of that language when he began to relearn it. Nok’s research had been unable to determine with precision the effects of the trisomy on the brain. Throughout Oliver Trent’s life there was no record of even a single brain scan or EEG, and those conducted on Oliver Marshall during his first existence had shown nothing abnormal. In both cases their brains had apparently reverted to a tabula rasa. Nok could only speculate that the care he and Mary had taken over the transition had somehow preserved part of Oliver’s memory, which had remained dormant until germinated again.
Uncharacteristically, Nok immediately applied this theory to himself. How would his attitude to his own predicted transformation be affected if there was a possibility of retaining a substantial proportion of his memory? In that case he would arguably be the same person, rather than a new person in the same body. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. Could this possibly, after all, be the pathway to eternal life?
Nok immediately felt ashamed of himself and reproached himself for blasphemy. He forced himself to think of this new, disturbing, evidence in the same way as he had often had to absorb new data from observations of the universe, which forced him to modify his mathematical models. He had grave doubts, however, whether mathematics would any longer be of help to him.
In order to focus his thoughts he carefully composed a reply to Oliver in which he told him not to worry about the resurgence of his knowledge of Japanese. He also, however, gently counselled his father not to become too absorbed in the world of politics. Nok hinted that, when his tenure at Cambridge came to an end, he would return to Thailand and enter a monastery. He hoped that Oliver would continue his studies of Buddhism so that they could the better comprehend their unique destiny. In this way they might provide a model that could be followed by all the other children and descendants of OM.
With adolescent enthusiasm Oliver immediately made arrangements to become a monk for a week. Fah and Sunny gave him their full support, but turned the ordination into a major social event, which was the diametric opposite of Nok’s intentions. At the end of the week Oliver returned home with aching limbs and a grumbling stomach, but also, Nok was relieved to learn, with a spiritual hunger that would remain with him forever.
45
In order to help finance his work in Korat, Dr Mit Matcha had maintained a monthly clinic in Bangkok, which served almost exclusively expatriates who were unable to come to terms with life in Thailand. They usually insisted on the latest anti-depressive drugs on the market and Dr Matcha was happy to humour them, although the older, cheaper generic medicines he prescribed in Korat were no less effective. Indeed they often proved more so, since the problems of his foreign patients were seldom simply susceptible to treatment by drugs.
One morning he was faced with a new patient whom he had already heard ordering the nurses around and refusing the standard weight and blood pressure tests. Yves Sinister was about 170 cms tall and seriously obese. Much later, Mit learned that the name was the proud heritage of an illegitimate offspring of a Norman baron. A five baht bangle cut into the folds of his left wrist. His eyes stared accusingly at Mit through his swollen face.
“I don’t think there is anything wrong with me! But one of my clients said I needed to seek help, so here I am!”
“A client? So you work here in Bangkok? What is your profession?”
“I am an investment manager. I look after the capital funds of expatriates, mostly those who wish to keep their funds offshore. Like Charles,” he added fiercely. Mit ignored the reference for the moment.
“Please describe how you work more closely. Do you have an office and colleagues or do you work alone?”
“I have an office and a Thai secretary, but otherwise I handle everything myself, although I often seem to work twenty hours a day.”
“So if there are problems at work do you have anyone to discuss them with?”
“No. Why should there be any problems? I told you I could handle everything myself.”
“And is business good? I am afraid I don’t follow the stock market.”
“Not so good at present but I predict an upturn in the third quarter.”
“This Charles, is he the person who suggested you should seek help? Do you know why he should think that?
“I thought he was a friend. I sent him an e-mail with the usual moans about life in Thailand. That’s all.”
“A friend? So you meet him outside work? Do you play golf together for example?”
“No. We have only met twice in my office to discuss his portfolio and to sign the necessary documents. He invited me for a meal once, but I was unable to go. But he is a friend of Dorothy, so I thought I could trust him.”
“I beg your pardon. Who is Dorothy?”
“I mean that he is gay, homosexual. He lives with a young Thai man.”
“So you too are homosexual? Do you also have a Thai friend?”
“I did, but he just disappeared with my motorbike. That’s what I wrote to Charles about. You just can’t trust them. Their hands are always outstretched. A bike, a car, a house, a sick mother, a sick buffalo. They are all the same.”
Mit pursed his lips slightly. “What was your friend’s name? How long had you known him?”
“Lek. On and off for a couple of years. He keeps on going back to his family in Nong Khai.”
“A very pleasant town. Have you ever been there with him?”
“Oh no! I can’t spare the time, and I am sure it would be very uncomfortable.”
“And how did you communicate? Do you speak Thai?”
“About half a dozen words. Anyway I don’t think he speaks Thai himself. He seems to understand English well enough.”
Well enough for what, Mit wondered, but he did not think it was yet the time to ask.
“Well, Mr Sinister, you have clearly been through a difficult time emotionally and you also appear to be rather isolated in your work. I suspect Charles was rather surprised to read your comments about Thais, and possibly rather annoyed as well.”
Mit hoped that Yves might infer that he too, being Thai, did not appreciate such insulting racism. He continued in a calm monotone.
“I am not going to prescribe any medicine today, because I am not yet sure what would be appropriate. But I am going to ask you to do two things. First, for me, I want you to record your feelings every day. I think it would be much better for you to take out your frustrations on me rather than any of your clients.
“Secondly I am going to ask you to undergo a complete check up, with particular attention to your weight and cholesterol levels. Have you been tested before? No. You smoke and drink? Yes.”
Mit pressed a button and a nurse entered immediately. Mit spoke to her rapidly in Thai.
“I have asked her to take your blood pressure and weigh you before you go. If you wait a short time she will arrange an appointment at the cardiology clinic. Please remember not to eat anything at all in the morning before the blood test and drink nothing but water.”
Mit stood up and ushered Yves Sinister out of his office before he could protest. He wrote a few notes in the file before calling the next patient. I wonder who Charles is, he thought to himself. He sounds a sensible guy and could be a good friend for Oliver. He knew that the cardiologist could do a lot for Yves, if Yves wanted to be helped. He doubted if he could do much himself until they discovered a drug for personality disorders.
46
The prime minister of Thailand had been invited to address the general assembly of the United Nations on the question of the development of the South East Asian region. No one knew exactly who made the decision, but little happened at the UN which had not been first agreed at the White House. There were rumours that the Chinese had raised objections, but this was not a matter on which they could exercise their veto.
Almost as soon as Din had been informed of the honour which had been conferred on him and on Thailand, Nirun arrived in his office with a draft of his speech.
“That is quick work, even for you!” he exclaimed.
“We had an idea that an invitation was being considered, prime minister, but we did not want to concern you until it was official.” Unless they were alone together Nirun was formal and aloof.
“Naturally all the subject matter is reviewed at least weekly.”
Din riffled through the sheets of paper.
“It looks a bit heavy to me. How long do I have? Ten minutes? I want all but the most important facts and figures issued as an annex to the press release.” Din thought for a moment before continuing.
“It will be televised, of course? And our stations will be given a feed? Of course the twelve hour time difference will hardly make it prime time viewing.” Din drummed his finger on the file. “And something else. I shall be speaking in English, of course. One of my most important audiences will be foreign investors here. They will hardly be impressed if my voice is blotted out by the usual incompetent and monotonous translation. What do you suggest?”
“I don’t think that is a problem, sir. I am sure that we can reach an agreement whereby one channel carries your voice live. And we shall ensure that there is an accurate Thai translation of your final script. And all the regional languages too, of course, as well as the other official UN languages. I believe the UN representative in Bangkok is due to see you later today.”
“Is he indeed? I seem always to be the last to know.”
“She, prime minister. Ms Isabella Yap. She is Malay and a constitutional lawyer, who had only just been appointed to her present regional post. I think she may well have been at the London School of Economics at the time you were at Oxford.”
A secretary caught Din’s eye and mouthed “ahaan”. Din looked at his diary to see his lunch appointment and was agreeably surprised to see it was his ambassador in Vientiane. Perhaps his sister had not yet heard the news and he could surprise her. That would be a role reversal and he sighed at the thought.
* * *
Despite all Mit Matcha’s efforts, two of his sisters gave birth to boys with the mutant gene and, at the insistence of their husbands, abandoned them.
Since she had given up her work at an orphanage, Sunny had increasingly realised how much she missed children and she suggested to Oliver that they adopt them. For his part Oliver was delighted to provide the babies with a home, but felt that the responsibilities of a grandparent were quite enough. When Sunny made inquiries at the children’s department of the local authority, she discovered that, despite her status as a member of parliament, her marriage to a foreigner complicated the issue in a manner only intelligible to a bureaucrat. Sunny complained to Fah, who immediately suggested that she should be the adoptive mother; since she was their aunt there could not possibly be any objections. The local authority was delighted with the solution. Within a week, Sunday and Fren were installed in a nursery between the two master bedrooms, whose walls Oliver had gaily covered with cartoon characters.
No father could have showered more affection on his children than Oliver did on his ill-starred grandchildren. Before they could walk he had taught them to swim. At the back of his mind he felt a sense of deja vu, but he did not let it worry him. The truth was that Oliver never let anything worry him. He had immense faith in Nok and he was confident that fate had ceased playing tricks on him.
Soon after the arrival of the two boys, Darunpan and Susan paid their first visit to Thailand for several years. Darunpan had retired, his children were launched on their careers and he was hoping to persuade his wife to divide their remaining life between Australia and Thailand. He had been kept in touch with the developments in Oliver’s family by Sunny, who regarded him as a godfather, and he received occasional short e-mails from Nok; but he was eager to see for himself how Oliver had changed. He was the only person alive who had known him in all three of his incarnations and tears rose to Darunpan’s eyes when he saw Oliver playing with Sunday and Fren in the swimming pool, just as he had with little Fak a lifetime ago.
Sunny simply introduced the couple as old friends without even hinting that Oliver and Darunpan had known each other before. Oliver recognised and rejoiced in the love that Sunny and Darunpan had for each other and he instinctively felt that Darunpan was a very important person in his life, without bothering himself exactly why. On the first evening, after the children had gone to sleep, Sunny and Darunpan reminisced about the first time they had met “Hector” and “Cassandra”, while Susan was trying to persuade Oliver to make a trip down under.
“They say every cloud has a silver lining,” Darunpan mused, “but who could have predicted that the unspeakable designs of Mr Wright should have borne such incredible fruit for my country. A prime minister who has modernised Thailand and preserved the independence of the region. Your partner, Fah, who ranks among the greatest of the suffragettes and heroines of women’s liberation. And let us not forget Professor Nicholas Marshall, dear stuttering Nok, who may prove to have made the greatest contribution of all.”
Even after all these years, Sunny was too embarrassed to relate her first night with Fah, although the memory was still as fresh as ever.
“I think that Din and Fah have both remained true to the characters you gave them then, but I did not know Nok until much later. Although he has mellowed slightly or has developed the tact of a politician, Din still displays all the defects as well as the virtues of the alpha male. I have never liked him very much and we seldom meet socially. Fah accepts him as a fact of life and uses him to suit her ends in much they same way as he uses her. The difference is, of course, that I share Fah’s goals, not Din’s, although I do not deny his achievements. I think that he must be very lonely. There is a rumour circulating in parliament that he has become attached to one of his civil servants, but Thais still do not like to air such matters openly, unlike the Anglo-Saxons. A scandal would be in nobody’s interest.”
At the weekend Fah flew in from Vientiane and Sunny invited Mit and his wife to meet Susan and Darunpan. After lunch, Mit cornered Darunpan and plied him with a host of questions, while Oliver and the two wives chatted in a mixture of English and Thai, and Fah and Sunny enjoyed some rare quality time together with the two children.
Fren and Sunday, however, soon made it clear that they wanted to go swimming with Oliver, who, with some sixth sense, called out to Darunpan, “Can you swim doctor? Come and help me with my two tadpoles!”
“Yes Oliver, I can swim. I was taught by a very dear friend of my uncle. Perhaps some day I shall tell you about him.” Darunpan turned back to Mit. “Please forgive me, but I think it would be better to continue our conversation in your office. One thing I think we can, agree on, however, is that we both need to talk with Nok again. If Oliver has recovered his knowledge of Japanese …”
Darunpan did not want to complete the sentence. How many times in this extraordinary saga had he had the feeling “Here we go again”?
47
No British prime minister had had a warmer welcome in New York than the prime minister of Thailand. Din was met at the airport by the secretary of state and driven to the United Nations headquarters to be greeted on the steps by the secretary general. In the car, the head of US diplomacy was effusive in his praise.
“I have just read a copy of your speech, prime minister. It is first rate. It coincides completely with our view of the future of the region. I look forward to a long and profitable partnership.”
Din succumbed to the flattery. It had been a long flight and it was a relief to have a break from the bickering between his ministers, which was the constant diet of his days in Government House. The secretary general was equally warm and, if he appeared less formal and more sincere, Din attributed this to the fact that they both hailed from developing countries and had forced themselves by their own efforts into the premier league.
Din made courtesy calls on the delegations of all the members of the security council apart from the Chinese, who had advised the Thai ambassador that a meeting would not be convenient. The US promotion of Thailand as part of its policy of containing China was now an open secret, although government spokesmen consistently denied that there was any ulterior motive and insisted that relations with the Asian giant continued to be cordial and constructive.
The speech itself, Din felt, proved rather an anticlimax; there was faint applause from an audience, the majority of which had no interest in South-East Asia. His spirits were raised, however, by the audience figures from the Thai television channels, despite the unearthly hour in Thailand. Before he went to bed, Nirun was able to show him the front pages of the Thai and English language Bangkok morning papers. Din fell happily asleep believing again that he was a hero and the saviour of the world.
* * *
The following morning Din flew to Washington for lunch with the president at the White House. If Din had been disappointed by the tepid reception of his speech in the assembly he had no cause to complain of the praise which the president heaped on him. The president even jocularly asked Din if he could borrow his speechwriter. After lunch the two of them went to the Oval Office for a private chat. It was only then that Din realised that there was a price to be paid for his triumph.
The president began emolliently with further comments on Din’s speech and several acute observations about Thai domestic problems that confirmed Din’s paranoia that even his thoughts were monitored by the CIA. He even dared to say so, which caused the president to roar with laughter.
“Don’t alarm yourself, David. You know that ninety-nine percent of intelligence is already in the public domain. We simply have the best computers and analysts in the world. I make sure that I know if and when one of my closest friends and allies needs any help.
“Actually there is something you might be able to do for us. Ever since our naval base was closed in the Philippines there has been a gap in our military capability in the region. This will be exacerbated when we leave Okinawa at the end of the year. We were wondering if you might be able to offer us some more facilities. Nothing excessive, mind you. Nothing like the Vietnam war.”
Din froze. This was the worst request he could have received.
“Mr President, you must know the mood of my country. No prime minister who proposed inviting foreign troops to be based on Thai soil would survive for a week. Indeed the King himself would dismiss me with the full-hearted consent of the entire population. We are happy to welcome the sixth fleet on shore leave at any time, but a permanent presence is out of the question.”
The president interrupted him. “I can see you are still thinking in terms of the Vietnam war. The facilities I am requesting will be invisible to ninety-nine point nine percent of the population. This is no time to go into the details. I am simply asking that you authorise a joint study by our respective experts. You mentioned the King. Please carry my warmest regards to Their Majesties. I have been thinking that it is a grave omission that they have never paid a state visit to the United States. You would have no objection if I extended an invitation would you?”
The president rose to indicate that the audience was at an end. The embassy Rolls was waiting to take Din directly to the airport. Nirun seated himself beside his prime minister, who turned on him in fury.
“Did you know what he was going to ask me?”
“No, prime minister,” Nirun lied painlessly. “What did he ask?”
“He wants military facilities. He forced me to agree to a joint study. This will be the end of me.”
“Surely not, prime minister. It will be purely a matter of presentation.”
Din continued to glower and refused to speak to Nirun throughout the fifteen-hour flight back to Bangkok.
* * *
It was only natural that it was Sunny who most noticed the change in Nok when he came to Korat for Christmas and the new year. When she had lived with Mary and Oliver in Amblesham, Nok had been animated by his concern for Oliver, by his research and by the prospect of the Lucasian chair. Four years later he had reverted to the demeanour of the quiet youth who had grown up in his brother’s shadow. Only his eyes had changed. When Sunny looked at them she felt she was passing through them into another world. Mit and Fah had hardly known their brother, but even Fah’s innate contempt for the male half of the human race was tempered by Nok’s calm, yet authoritative humility.
As for Oliver, he and Nok spoke very little. They seemed to communicate by telepathy as if they were identical twins. Indeed, by now it was Oliver who looked the younger and who effused more energy, which in some inexplicable manner Nok appeared to absorb and transform. They were both light sleepers and would rise at first light and walk for an hour into the countryside, without touching each other but in an unmistakable and infrangible embrace. They returned before the sun’s heat became too harsh, ate the simple breakfast that Sunny had prepared for them and returned to their beds for an hour. When Oliver went to work, Nok relaxed with a volume of Thai poetry that he had asked Sunny to buy for him. To be sure, his protracted absence made the comprehension of the exalted language a fit challenge for his intellect; the relaxation came with the empathy of an autochthonous philosophy from which he had been separated for too long.
One Saturday afternoon Nok agreed to talk to Mit in Mit’s office. Mit had suggested that Oliver join them, but Nok was adamant that Oliver’s presence was unnecessary and might even be harmful to him. Mit acquiesced and started by giving Nok an analysis of the progress of his affected siblings, and, lamentably, a handful of nephews and nieces. Finally, rather nervously, he related his discussions with Darunpan and their concern about Oliver’s sudden recall of Japanese. Had Nok had any ideas about how this had been possible and what the implications might be?
Nok was silent for a few minutes and then began speaking so quietly that Mit could hardly hear.
“I can be certain of nothing. I can only share with you the tiny number of facts we know from Oliver’s three lives. When Oliver Trent was rescued from the train crash, it took him a year before he learned to speak English; yet later he proved to have a remarkable capacity for acquiring new languages. As far as we know he had no memory of a previous existence; indeed the very idea that he might have had a previous existence did not occur to anyone during his ‘lifetime’.
“We know more about Oliver Marshall Mark I. Darunpan and I are certain that he had no recollection of being Oliver Trent. Nevertheless he inherited the gift of tongues. It is most likely purely a coincidence. In addition it would be rash to assume that, if the brain retains any knowledge, it does so in the same way and to the same extent in the two types of transition. What I mean is that an old brain that grows young again may preserve more than a brain which has been reduced to that of a newborn baby. Do you follow me?
“I now turn to Oliver Marshall Mark II. In his case I deliberately set out to influence events. I lied when I led people to believe that Mark I had died; and I lied again with my story of a non-fatal accident.
Well, most of it was true. What I did not tell anyone was that I was with Oliver in Spain at the time. I was conscious that his life was drawing to an end and I decided to manipulate events. Oliver did not fall into the pool. I hit him on the head with a hammer while he was sleeping, with just sufficient force to render him temporarily unconscious and, I hoped, to reverse the clock. My action was a crime, of course, but its consequences were, I believe, wholly beneficial. If any intellectual retention was theoretically possible, the stratagem I employed provided the optimum empirical circumstances. I apologise if I have shocked you; I am, of course, not a doctor but a scientist. I felt that in essence it was little different from administering electroconvulsive therapy. Sometimes the quest for knowledge strays across ethical boundaries.”
Nok paused and fastened his innocent smile on Mit’s face. Mit was more confused than shocked.
“So you somehow steered Oliver between his two lives? What have you learned? Do you know anything that will help me help my patients?”
“I have learned very little, I’m afraid. Oliver appears to have no recollection of any past life. I think we can ignore the Japanese angle. If I, or any of my brothers and sisters, follow the same path as Oliver I am certain that there will be no significant transmission. Anything more we learn, we shall learn from Oliver. You must know him well now. What do you make of him?”
Mit had great difficulty putting what he wanted to say into words.
“I have never met anyone like him. He has a serenity and purity, which I have only ever seen in the faces of very old monks. At the same time he seems both inhuman and more human than us all. I think in Christendom he would be called a saint.”
Nok’s eyes had closed and he appeared to have fallen asleep. Mit felt a sudden burning thirst and quietly slipped out to a local bar for a beer. When he returned he found Nok studying the framed medical certificates on the office wall.
“Don’t you think you should get a further degree in Sydney? I am sure Darunpan could find you a place.” Their conversation was forgotten and was never referred to between them again.
48
The following year was deceptively tranquil; all the major protagonists had their own programmes and were too engrossed in them to concern themselves with anything else. The palace was consumed with the forthcoming state visit to the United States of America. The prime minister was engaged in a thinly disguised pre-election tour of the nation and had left the day to day running of the country in the all too capable hands of Nirun. For his part, Nirun was conspiring with kindred spirits in the military to provide the CIA with as many facilities as they could without anyone else noticing. It was tacitly agreed (without Din’s knowledge, naturally) that the crunch would come after he had won a decisive victory in the general election.
The new Thai embassy in Vientiane was almost complete and Fah’s time was increasingly taken up in ensuring that the team of male contractors did not make too many idiotic mistakes. Fortunately she had rapidly learned to read blueprints and took excessive pleasure in pointing out that the sole accessible toilet for people with disabilities was not only at the bottom of a flight of steps, but was also inside the gentlemen’s conveniences. Eventually she won the grudging respect of the chief architect and in the end the embassy could almost have passed muster as a maternity hospital.
Sunny was busy in her constituency and Oliver divided his time between her office and his progeny. Mit was astounded at the way Oliver was able to calm the most tempestuous seas. He had sired many rough diamonds who had been made frightened and resentful by Nok’s inopportune intervention; but one by one, without any conscious understanding, let alone any verbalisation, they appeared to assimilate the idea that if Oliver was their father, their future need not be so terrible. What Mit attempted to put into words, Oliver revealed by example.
Nok was completing his final year at Trinity College Cambridge. His many friends had detected his change of mood and, much as they would miss him, accepted his decision. In scholastic circles friends and enemies are equally divided, and the latter merely ridiculed his appointment and could not wait to see the back of him. These naturally included those colleagues whose eminence had been ignored before and who still aspired to succeed him.
Only Oliver was aware of Sunny’s increasing unhappiness. The more she threw herself in to her campaign for re-election, the more obvious it was to him that the last thing she wanted was another four years in parliament. No words were needed to reveal her desire to lead a normal family life with Fah, Oliver and the two children. Fah’s visits to Korat became increasingly infrequent and it was obvious to Oliver how much Sunny missed her. Despite his reluctance to interfere in any way, he did gently hint that there were plenty of other party members who would happily perform the duties of a parliamentarian. He had touched a raw nerve and was rewarded with a most uncharacteristic outburst about how Sunny could never let Fah down. Oliver was far too prudent to make the obvious retort that Fah herself had practically abandoned her lover and her two adopted children. Nevertheless Sunny was confirmed in the knowledge, as if she could ever have doubted it, that Oliver would support her to the hilt in whatever decision she eventually took.
* * *
Nok arrived back in Thailand at the end of July. Before spending a couple of weeks in Korat with his father, he paid a courtesy call on his brother at Government House. Din was delighted to see him and used all his charm to persuade Nok to become an emeritus professor at one of Bangkok’s universities. Din need hardly put in a word; he was sure they would all be clamouring for such a distinguished academic. Nok smiled at his brother’s inexhaustible passion for the exercise of power, which made it quite impossible for him to comprehend that Nok’s sole remaining purpose in life was to relinquish what little power he still retained. He could not foresee the peculiar events that would prove Din’s downfall; but he knew enough of the world to know that those who cling to power lose it in distressing circumstances. He explained that his decision to enter a monastery was irrevocable and that he would never leave it alive. Din would always be welcome to visit him as a brother, but not as prime minister. Din began to find Nok’s serenity disturbing and was glad when he left, allowing him to return to discussing affairs of state with Nirun.
The general election was the predicted triumph and there was only a handful of opposition MPs in parliament. In theory Din was omnipotent, which was precisely the word used by the first caller to congratulate him.
“Actually, David, I always feel that the Spanish todopoderoso sounds better. It flows off the tongue and does not seem quite so threatening. I assume that the last obstacle in our relationship has been overcome?” The president proceeded to spell out exactly what he required.
Although Nirun had always been equivocal, Din was not wholly surprised by the request and had prepared his response.
“That is quite out of the question, Mr President. Call me all-powerful if you want, but remember that the mountain would not come to Mohammed. The country would rise as one and string me up on a lamppost.”
“That may well be true, but you have nothing to lose by trying. How do you think the country would feel about knowing that you have been sleeping for a number of years with a member of the CIA, who has effectively been running that kingdom of yours?”
Din burst out laughing. “I wondered when you would mention that. It is a double-edged sword. Of course I knew that Nirun was one of your agents from the beginning. I can assure you that he has proved far more useful to me than to you. And what about your vice president, Robert Campbell? Surely you know that we were lovers at Oxford?”
The line went dead, but the president was unable to kill the story as the first editions were already on the streets. Din opened a drawer to which even Nirun did not have a key and took out a document in Thai and English. He did not have to change a single word. With the blessings of technology he was able to deliver it instantly to every news editor in the world.
49
Although the attempt by the president of the United States to blackmail the prime minister of Thailand blew up so spectacularly in his face, it did in fact bring about Din Matcha’s downfall in a manner he could not have possibly foreseen.
In a small back street in Korat excited neighbours rushed to Din’s mother’s door.
“Have you heard the news?” they shouted.
“Well of course he won the election. That’s hardly news,” the old lady replied placidly.
“No not that. His young lover has been a double agent and he has run rings around Uncle Sam!”
“Let me see,” she said, struggling with her glasses and moving into a patch of sunlight just as a motorcycle taxi screamed round the corner. She was knocked unconscious and was dead on arrival at the hospital.
* * *
Din had never been known to show more than casual affection towards his mother (although he ensured she lived comfortably) so his colleagues were surprised at his distraught reaction to her death. He had begun to look an old man. Fah returned from Laos for the funeral rites and recognised immediately that the family curse had struck again. When they were alone together, Din begged her to return to parliament and prepare to take over as his successor.
In bed together for the first time in many weeks, Sunny snuggled up to Fah and licked her ear before whispering into it, “I am sure there is more to it than just the old woman’s death. I vaguely remember some caustic remark of Nok’s when he surveyed the new ministry buildings Din had moved to Korat. Do you think …?”
“Never! He may be vain and chauvinistic, but I cannot believe my brother is corrupt!”
Yet so it proved. No one accused Din of planning it all in advance, but the fact was that several of the plots of land he had bought in his mother’s name now lay beneath the majestic buildings he had erected. Distracted by ambition he had never managed to conceal the paper trail, and the executors who wound up the affairs of a most unexpected billionairess had no difficulty in presenting a case to the national counter corruption commission. Before Din could be arrested he had slit his throat.
The national and international scandal can be left to the imagination and has no more relevance to the story. In Korat, however, the disaster was personal and none of Din’s elder brothers and sisters, not even Fah, ever recovered. All the responsibility fell on the shoulders of Mit and Sunny; for Oliver had retreated into the body of a child. Only one person in the world could possibly help them.
“My name is Dr Mit Matcha, Abbot. Nok Matcha is an elder brother. Would it be possible to see him?”
The Abbot of Wat Hin Mahk Peng looked disturbed. There were few visitors at his temple deep in the countryside near the Laos border. He knew that Nok had chosen to be ordained there and to live practically the life of a hermit precisely on that account.
“I do not know. He has asked never to be disturbed. Were you very close as brothers? I know he spent most of his life abroad. And I am sure he would not want to see a child. He is your son, I assume?”
“No, father, Nok and I hardly ever met. But he and Oliver have been very close for thirty years. It is Oliver whom I believe Nok will want to see.”
“Thirty years? The boy cannot be more than ten years old!”
“He is no ordinary child, father. I know for certain that he has lived at least three separate existences without having died. Oliver is not my son; he is my father. He is Nok’s father also.”
“This is impossible. It is blasphemous. What can you mean by coming here and telling such lies in a holy place!”
“It is unintelligible; but it is true. All I ask is that you go to Nok and tell him that Oliver is here.”
The Abbot felt a spasm of terror and remained silent for ten minutes while he forced himself to meditate on what he had heard. Then without speaking he retired to his private apartments.
Oliver turned to Mit. “Don’t worry. Nok already knows that I am here. We have been in contact since I entered the temple. He is intensely peaceful and will now be transmitting his calm to the Abbot.”
Just as Oliver had said, the Abbot experienced a transcendent serenity as he hesitantly opened the door of Nok’s cell.
“Don’t concern yourself, Jow Wat. Oliver is here isn’t he? Please ask him to come in. We have much to discuss. Perhaps you could have a trestle brought so that he can stay the night.”
For a moment the Abbot’s alarm returned since for a young boy to share a monk’s cell was unthinkable, but once again Nok calmed his fears by telepathy before continuing,
“Do not worry. My father will be quite safe with me.”
The Abbot returned to Mit and Oliver.
“He wants Oliver to spend the night with him. Perhaps you, Dr Matcha will stay in one of our guestrooms.”
Oliver dazzled the Abbot with his smile.
“Thank you sir,” he said, as he prepared to follow him. Then he turned to Mit and said in English,
“Good night Mit, and goodbye. Tell Sunny that my love for her will be everlasting.”
* * *
Nok’s cell was obscured rather than lit by a single twenty-watt bulb. The Abbot allowed Oliver to enter first and he was amazed at the radiance that seemed to radiate from Nok as he saw the boy.
“Hello, pa”, Nok said softly as he held out his hand. When the two touched the Abbot convulsed in an orgasm that he had not experienced for forty years. He hurried away to his own room, pausing only to give instructions for a monk to remain in hearing distance of Nok’s cell throughout the night.
Nok and Oliver did not need to speak, but for a while they murmured to each other. They spoke in English, but what they said would have anyway been inaudible through the cell door.
“So, professor, you have made your greatest ever discovery and no one will ever know it.” Oliver smiled lovingly at his son, who now appeared so thin and tiny and old. Only his eyes shone with increasing brightness.
“Yes, I believe so, but I cannot be certain. At a certain point mathematics had to give way to faith. I think that I can break the cycle, and I know that your desire to do so is even more ardent than mine is. Do not worry. You do not need to know any mathematics. All that you do need to know I can transmit directly.”
The two lay down on Nok’s bed in a chaste embrace and gazed into each other’s eyes. Nothing more was said, although Nok occasionally hummed snatches of a tune. There was no one to see their bodies coalescing into a single glow.
* * *
After the first prayers at dawn, the Abbot decided to see if the old man and young boy were still asleep. The monk who stood vigil assured him that there had been no noise at all from the cell after the first few minutes. Jow Wat opened the door and peered into the gloom. There were two forms on the bed, but they seemed insubstantial. He summoned the monk.
“Please wake them up gently.”
The monk went over to the bed and touched Oliver’s shirt.
“Father, father!” he screamed, “there is nothing there!”
He stood trembling, clutching the singlet as if it were haunted. The Abbot overcame his terror and lifted the remaining clothes of Nok and Oliver from the bed. Of human flesh and bone there was no earthly sign.
Mit was waiting in the courtyard and from the panic in the faces of both monks he knew what they had found.
“Let us praise the Lord Buddha together, father, for he has worked a miracle this night.”
“What do you mean? Do you know what has happened? Where have they gone? Are they dead? That young boy was far too young to die!”
“That young boy, father, has been continuously alive for over a hundred years, and maybe much longer. He had a genetic defect, which he passed to Nok and several other of his children. When his body was about to die it began to rejuvenate and there seemed no way to break the cycle except by violence. He has not died, but he is no longer alive. Nok’s brilliance as a mathematician and philosopher may never be recognised. I have all his papers and it is now my responsibility to see if the transformation which Nok and Oliver have experienced can be repeated. Nok’s achievement, which I have no hope of understanding, was to comprehend how the mind was able to arrest and transmogrify the faulty genes. Previously they conferred a spurious, nightmare immortality; now I cannot say. I cannot answer your questions, father. You must seek the answers in your faith.”
Mit took the bundle of clothes up to the shrine and lit two candles.
“Goodbye Nok,” he whispered, “Goodbye Oliver. Rest in peace, Oliver Marshall. Rest in peace, Oliver Trent.”
The Children of OM is the sequel to The Peculiar History of Oliver Trent, which follows the lives of three gay men in the battle for Gay rights in the last half of the Twentieth Century. For information please email info@elcastillon.com.