In late-April of 2008 I left Thailand. My two families accompanied me to the sprawling Bangkok airport. While happy European tourists headed home from vacations, I kissed my children good-bye and hid the tears by burying my head in Mam's neck.
Her belly was swollen with our new baby.
We were having a boy.
I wanted to call him Fenway.
My other wife knew better than to say a word.
She had done me wrong.
I'll never say how.
No one is perfect.
"No forget Angie," Nu said at the airport restaurant.
She possessed little English.
"I never forget anyone. You are my family."
I dropped my bags at the counter.
Planes were going everywhere in the world.
My ticket was one-way to New York.
"You come back soon?" asked Mem.
"Soon." I could not say when and said my goodbyes.
"Pai Gone, Ban Nok."
I would miss the Western Forest.
It was peaceful.
The sea was the Gulf of Siam.
I love the food.
Planes flew to hundreds of destinations around the world from Bangkok.
My flight was called over the loudspeakers.
My time in Thailand measured in minutes.
I kissed everyone goodbye.