Gemscentric

Written by Julian Robov


Fifty Seven


Late evening, a Singapore Airlines flight touched down at Don Muang International Airport. Two hours later, Mark Foo checked in at the Armano hotel, near the World Trade Center. Seri had promised to meet him in his room at eleven. There was a gentle knock on his door. Mark welcomed Seri with a brilliant smile.
“Coffee, tea?”
“Tea will do fine. So, how is everything?”
“Not so good. Jeffrey is gone, and now you are going to explain to me, how we are going to share the wealth. I have some vital information regarding the pending deals.”
“Really? That’s interesting.”
As Mark dashed to the toilet, Seri began viewing the room itself. Mark’s belongings included two large suitcases, one briefcase, a laptop, two cell-phones and the latest Playboy magazine. He was a man obsessed with technology and sex.
“So, what’s up, Seri? Do you have the numbers ready for me?”
Seri paused. “You know, putting a value on a gemstone requires several factors. Number one, you must identify the stone. Number two, someone needs to grade the stone. Number three, valuation is a combination of the above two taking into account the market factors, knowledge, experience and, of course, the profit. That takes time and no two gemstones are alike—like people. Judgments are made depending on the situation. Meaning, the whole thing is subjective.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mark asked. “I’m interested only in money, not stones nor your lecture. Do you think I came all the way from Hong Kong to listen to this gospel? Come on!”
“You don’t understand, do you?” Seri said, flipping the magazine. “How about sex?”
“With you?”
Seri laughed. “Of course, not. I have better girls than those you see in the magazine. Want to try?”
Mark waited. “Hmm, not today. Let’s get back to business, shall we?”
Seri wasn’t amused. “What do you want from me? Gemstones? Money? Women? What?”
“I think you are acting funny today,” Mark added. “This is not the old Seri. You are hiding something from me, aren’t you?”
“Not at all,” Seri said reluctantly. “In fact, there is no business to talk about. As you know too well, in the gem business we rarely keep records. Trust—and, that’s between people. And the fact is Jeffrey hasn’t conferred with me for quite sometime. So I don’t think I have much information about his hidden assets. He owes me a lot, but being a good Buddhist, I have decided to forgive his debts and crimes.”
“Fuck you, Seri,” Mark said angrily. “I don’t believe this. You are playing games with me. I don’t like it. I have friends in Hong Kong. They are going to call you soon. You hear me?”
“You’re not polite,” Seri countered. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
“Of course, not.”
Seri fished out an envelope from his jacket and threw it on the table. “Read!”
Mark Foo looked up at Seri. “What? It’s blank!”
“You’re color blind, Mark.”
There was another knock on the door.
“Who is that?”
A blonde, clad in sarong entered the room with a garland. Seri was reading the Playboy magazine, sipping the tea.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Relax, young man,” she said, touching his lips. “You are stressed out. Too bad, uh.”
A few moments later both were naked and in bed, intertwined like a twin crystal, rolling and moaning surfing for the best position, as the temperatures and pressures rose. In order to absorb his energy, she whispered some strange words he couldn’t understand, sucking his skin and a swarm of tiny brightly shining bubbles of sweat from his chest. As they began merging from the depth of their thrusts, tissues of strange webbing, splashing cascades of glittering water streams began soaking the bed taking a natural but bizarre shape.

Seri prepared another glass of tea, holding the magazine in hand. He saw from the window scores of people enjoying their beer and food at the pavilion hosted by several restaurants at the World Trade Center, as part of their food promotion. The music was on. Some were dancing, while several teen-age lovebirds were seen sucking each other behind the footbridge. Police weren’t anywhere in the vicinity. The roads were jam-packed with taxi’s and BMW’s of different hues. No wonder Bangkok was called a city of sleepless entertainers and revelers. There was a minor distraction. A BMW was hit by another car. There was chaos and amusement as the owners, two baby elephant-sized women pounded on each after a quick argument. No one dared to interfere, as the argument rose to the melting-point. They were now rubbing each other—like Sumo wrestlers on the road wearing only bras and panties. Finally, one onlooker had enough. He decided to take the law into his own hand. He approached the two women with a broomstick to stop fighting and make peace. A few minutes later, he was seen lying on the floor bleeding from head wounds, as they began arguing and pounding each other standing on his stomach. The crowd was still watching and laughing at the act, as if enjoying a soap. The food stalls were doing a brisk business, as people rushed to watch the continuing saga on the road. All the traffic lights turned red pitching the climax. No one was moving or talking except the two fighting women.

Then all of a sudden, one teen-age couple, which was seen sucking each other on a footbridge, fell to the ground screaming, before reaching the pinnacle. They didn’t realize it was dog’s month, as two dogs were busily surfing in the dark ‘barking’ and ignoring all that was happening. The bitch had difficulty standing straight. There was a car park next to the bridge. Men and women were seen cuddling behind the back seat engaging in strange acts turning the whole park into a massive springboard. They were all having a good time. Only a wholesome earthquake or a strong downpour would have stopped the fighting, barking and surfing. From nowhere, two men emerged talking on their cell-phones calling names. Suddenly the two women stopped rubbing each other, standing straight. They were their husbands in military uniform. There was a brief hush-hush, as the stunned onlookers watched in silence holding their breath. A few minutes later, they were joined by their friends swearing at the onlookers, as the two naked women were accompanied to a nearby car park. The lights flashed off green, and slowly the traffic began moving easing the tension.

Seri turned around, flipped the magazine once again, holding the tea cup, pausing occasionally to ponder his reflection in the room from the incandescent light. The blonde had virtually sanitized Mark’s body, as he lay conscious but weak and thirsty. She too was tired and was lying on top sucking his mouth, quenching his thirst. Seri sat down on the edge of the bed, and looked at the two naked bodies soaked in their own liquids. He then stood up and walked to the window for a final glimpse. The roads were quieter now. People were slowly leaving, talking, and laughing. The car park looked vacant. The footbridge had no more occupants. The dogs stopped surfing and barking.

Then he took a last look around, turning his attention to the two naked bodies. He checked the time.
1:56.
A moment passed. Then, Seri grinned and pulled the trigger. He paused. There was a cluster of lights in the darkness, as he stepped outside, lost once more among the scores of people.