Alex Mitchell - The 13th Tablet

She sensed he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the right words.

‘When did you stop speaking to your family?’ she asked.

‘It’s complicated,’ he muttered.

‘Try me,’ she continued, softly.

He sighed, ‘When I left home. I was sixteen.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘I had a choice: jail time or the army. I don’t regret my choice.’

‘Why? What did you do?’ Mina asked, a little taken aback.

‘I hurt a guy pretty bad, outside a bar. He was drunk, he insulted me and it made me angry.’

‘Why were you so angry?’

‘Hey. Should I lie down? Do you need a note pad?’

‘I’m not your therapist Jack, but I would like to know.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, sincerely. ‘I suppose I had been angry a long time, ever since my dad died.’

‘How old were you?’ she asked, trying to keep her questions short.

‘About eleven.’

‘What happened?’

‘He was gunned down in a drive-by shooting.’

She squeezed his hand softly.

‘My dad could barely make ends meet at the best of times. When he died, we lost the house to the bank and ended up in a trailer park. I was angry at my dad for leaving us like that.’

‘You must have missed him a lot?’

‘I guess so.’

He felt something begin to thaw inside him. He had a sudden vision of his father returning from the mill early one summer’s day and playing baseball with him in the nearby school yard. He remembered his dad’s large rough hands and the smell of freshly-sawn cedar wood on his clothes. They hadn’t spoken much, but it was a good memory. He felt lighter at heart. He looked sideways at Mina, wondering what she was thinking now that she knew a little more about him. He hoped he hadn’t driven her away. But she smiled up at him and he knew he was alright. Slowly, she put her arms around his neck and stroked his hair. He pulled her closer into him, feeling the swell of her breasts against his firm chest. He caressed her lower back. She pulled back to look at him, and then kissed him passionately. He lowered her down carefully onto the bed and started undressing her, removing her clothes, piece by piece, progressively kissing every newly bare area of her silky skin. Since the day — was it only a few weeks ago? — when Mina had seen him walking towards her in the desert with his shirt open wide, she had dreamed of Jack’s firm body pressing hard against her own. Looking deep into his smouldering eyes, she undid the buttons of his shirt. They both breathed in unison, one last gasp before the leap, one last thought before losing themselves to the pleasure of the long-awaited moment.

Mina was curled tightly against Jack’s warm chest, their naked bodies still intertwined.

‘You know, after all we’ve been through, getting shot… I should be a total wreck, but there’s something about being around you Mina, I feel I could do something amazing now.’

‘You already have, Jack.’ She said with a mischievous grin.

He laughed softly.

‘So,’ she said, ‘are you ready to introduce me to your family?’

He held her in his strong arms and kissed the top of her head.

‘Sort of.’

‘What do you mean “sort of”?’ she said, tensing up.

‘My mum is quite sweet and so is my sister, but…’

‘Yes?’

‘They’ve never left their trailer.’

‘So what?’

‘Mina, they’re not very sophisticated.’

‘Please, don’t been embarrassed by your family, not on my behalf!’

‘Alright. What about your parents?’ he asked.

‘Oh. That’s another story. They were polite on the phone of course.’

‘But what?’

‘You’re a soldier you know, you’re not a doctor or a lawyer… It might not work out.’

‘You’re joking, right?’ said Jack, raising himself on his elbow.

She looked at the shocked look on his face, enjoying every second of it, and then kissed him hungrily as she climbed on top of him.

‘Of course I’m kidding! They’ll adore you, but not quite as much as I do.’

December 23rd, 2004. Thai Airways flight

The plane to Bangkok was packed with British tourists leaving behind their offices and heading for the beach. They were wearing shorts, t-shirts and flip-flops and were looking forward to a well-earned holiday in Thailand. Mina was amazed to see how lightly dressed they all were. In the shopping area of Abu Dhabi, where they had a short stopover, she was reminded of the variety of dress codes co-existing at airports all around the world. The contrast between her fellow travellers and the white-robed sheiks and their entourage was quite a vision to behold. Mina watched the queues of men of all ages and from all social classes waiting for a connecting flight to Mecca and felt quite moved. Was it their fervour? Or was it their anticipation of revealed mysteries, their communal faith? She clearly remembered her father’s serene smile when he returned from the Hajj , many years before. She must have been ten years old and had kept asking her mother where daddy was, until one day he walked through the door and swept her off her feet in a long-awaited hug.

December 24th, 2004. Don Mueang, Bangkok airport

Mina was trying to get her head around the time zone difference. The duration of their trip had been twelve hours, but because of the seven hour difference between Britain and Thailand, instead of arriving at ten p.m. it was actually five in the morning on Christmas Eve.

Having retrieved their luggage, Jack returned to the waiting room to find Mina, yawning on a bench.

‘Mina, I finally managed to reach my mother at the hotel,’ he said, his broad smile showing just how relieved he was. ‘I told her we’d be with her for dinner. We’ve got a flight to Phuket around eight tonight, how about a little sightseeing in the meantime? I propose leaving our bags in a locker and going exploring.’

‘That sounds lovely!’ she answered, shaking off her drowsiness and picking up her bag.

After a hair-raising taxi ride through Bangkok’s busy streets, Mina marvelled at the strangeness of her surroundings and the beauty of the various temples along the Chao Phraya River. The driver came to a screeching halt just outside the National Museum. Jack paid the man and then turned to Mina, ‘Believe it or not, even though I’ve been to Bangkok many times, and even to this park,’ pointing at the leafy Sanamluang park opposite, ‘I’ve never once visited the National Museum.’

‘A good thing too, we’ll discover it together. I always start a visit to a new city with a museum trip.’

‘It’s as good a place to start as any,’ said Jack. ‘I usually memorise the main streets and then go for a walk.’

‘Museums make me feel more grounded. They reassure me, you know, the fact that all human beings have a sense of their own history, their own roots.’

‘Well, you sure look like a fish in water the moment you enter a museum!’

She laughed and held his hand as they walked into the museum.

The collections were distributed in different buildings, some of which Mina found to be more refined than others. The Siwamokhaphiman Hall was an impressive ceremonial building made of traditional materials. In this case, she preferred the building itself to the prehistoric collection it contained. But what really impressed them was the Phra Buddhasihing, a famous sacred image of Buddha, held in the so-called Buddhaisawan Chapel, and a huge sculpture of Ganesh.

Jack knew this god well from his previous trips to South East Asia and had much affection for the elephant-headed god. He found this sculpture of the dancing deity particularly endearing.