Silk Pajamas & Tombstone Eyes

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   My risk taking has just started.  Little did I know then, I would live in this house and buy it before I left country in a year and a half...
       "Would this place work for me?"   At that moment, little My Han walks by me in the living room and gives me a smile, a smile that renders me helpless.
I stand up and go to the back of the house.  Finding mamasan in the kitchen, I confront her about renting a room or as it turns out, more of a bed in her house, the cost of $30 a month...
       It is apparent that she has a boy friend and his name is Wah, who I find out later is one serious bad ass that you do not want to mess with.  I am told by the kids and neighbors, one day shortly before I arrived, Wah was in the back of the house when a thug, commonly called a "cowboy" came onto the front porch and started harassing Muoi, trying to extort money from her.  Wah hearing this stepped out onto the porch, pulled out a .38 pistol, put it to his head and pulled the trigger and casually walked away.  The body laid there until the police came.  The questions were asked and....
Right from the start, my new relationship comes with some added suspense, Muoi is pregnant with Wah's baby.  I don't mind telling you, that there is a part of me that is saying, "You are out of your fucking mind messing with this woman", who is carrying the baby of one bad dude, who seriously scares me to death.  I definitely do not want to be on his bad side, so where am I, in bed with his woman.  Insane, but I love it, out on the edge.
    

    

    As we are nearing the Cambodian border, much to my disbelief, he is doing a fly by to look at the target area.  OK, now what?  I don't believe my eyes, we are out over the ocean and taking what looks like a five minute turn around...sight seeing.  I know I am with a rookie, but he should know better than to take this much time over a target area...
    Being consumed in my mental state, the silence of the cockpit is broken, "We've been hit!"  Words with an unwelcome meaning, brings my adrenaline to pose on the edge of panic...


    We are now starting work on the bunker and all is going well, when this southern boy named Burt, a GI out of our barracks, walks by and starts giving me shit.  "Rock, you don't know how to get work out of them.  I'll show you how you bust their ass.  Just give me ten minutes with them and..."  You might say I am taking direct offense to this kind of harassment.   He continues with his ignorance as he passes by us going to the barracks.  I know these prisoners have no understanding of our English, but they definitely know the universal language of threatening tones and inflections in one's voice, body language that is spelled out in stance, hands that are clenched in fists presenting vulgar gestures.  When they read the eyes, the violence is known.
      I have had enough of him and call him down off the porch.  "Burt, I am going to bust you up right here in front of them."...











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