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Brea,
I have absolutely no idea where you are, but regardless, I need you to contact me immediately. We need to talk.
Oriana
Brea stared at the message for a long time, her mouth still full of noodles she’d forgotten to chew.
Why was Oriana reaching out to her after twenty-three years of silence? What was going on?
At first, Brea tried to write her a message. She watched her shaking fingers compose several words:
Oriana, wow. Happy to hear from you. Um.
But then, she deleted the message as her heart filled with rage. Oriana hadn’t reached out to her due to kindness. Something else had happened. And Brea didn’t want anything to do with it. She’d come to Thailand for a reason. And she knew that Oriana couldn’t track her down— mostly because she had a system in place to ensure that she couldn’t be found. That had taken some serious acrobatics in terms of IDs and money transfers, but it had protected her.
But with Oriana’s email in her mind, Brea wasn’t sure what to do with her body. She felt anxious and jittery, so she stood up, cleaned her neighbor’s plate in the sink, then jumped back on her motorbike. As she sped down the road, going faster and faster, she let out a horrible scream.
After nearly an hour of aimless riding, Brea was exhausted. She stopped at a downtown bar near the beach, where she sat sweating and ordered a Tiger beer. The guy behind the counter was called Fox, which was probably not his real name. She’d met him several times at this bar and always appreciated his quietness. He didn’t mind leaving her to her thoughts.
But today, because of Oriana’s email, Brea needed someone to talk to.
“What’s going on, Fox?” Brea hardly recognized her voice. It had been a long time since she’d started small talk.
Fox dried a beer glass with a towel and smiled. “Not much, man. Nothing goes on here in Ko Tao. I guess that’s part of the appeal, isn’t it?”
Brea nodded. “Do you ever get bored of that?”
“Of the fact that every single day feels the same as the one before?”
Brea laughed in spite of herself.
“I mean, sure,” Fox said.
“And do you ever think about going back to wherever you came from?” Brea asked.
Fox raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”
Brea sipped her beer, sensing that she’d overstepped. That was the last thing she’d wanted. Finally, she said, “I can’t go back to the United States, unfortunately.”
“Neither can I,” Fox said, his voice slightly strained. “But most people can’t go back home, you know? Once you go so far away and build a different life for yourself, it’s like that past life dies, in a way.”
“I know what you mean,” Brea said.
“That’s the story of Thailand, though, isn’t it? It’s just full of expats hiding from something or someone,” Fox went on.
“I guess so.” Brea hadn’t considered that so many people in Thailand were like her.Was the yoga teacher lady hiding, too?“I heard from someone from my old life today. It freaked me out.”
Fox winced. “I’ve been there. Is this person someone you’re hiding from?”
“Yep.”
Fox sighed, noted she was out of beer, and grabbed another bottle. “Do you know if you’re going to respond?”
“I don’t see a reason to,” Brea said. “Like you said, that life is dead. And you shouldn’t talk to ghosts, I guess.”
“Ghosts don’t usually have your best interests at heart,” Fox said.
“Did you answer your ghosts when they contacted you?”
