One Night

By Chris Bunton

I never knew they existed, but this one is staring at me…two twin girls; one shy, the other bold. Apparently that one night in Bangkok, was not the end.

“You’re my daughters?”  I asked.

They smiled in exactly the same way as their mother, and nodded their heads. They stood on my front porch dressed in little skirts, while I held the door open trying to figure it all out.

A new red Buick, which I assumed was a rental car, sat in the drive way. A woman who I guessed was their mother rolled down the passenger window. She waved at me, and leaned over from the driver’s seat to yell out.

“Them yours!”

About 12 years before I retired from The Farm, they had sent me to Thailand to meet with an opium lord, in order to establish relations, so we could funnel money to assets in China.

My contact person was a beautiful woman named Kanda. We spent a week working together, and became fond of each other. Then, one night before I was set to leave, we got drunk and spent the night together.

“What are your names?”  I asked the girls.

“Manee!” The bold one said.

“Wonderful to meet you Manee, and you are just like a precious gem.” I said, mentioning her name sake.

“And you?” I asked the shy one.

“Ratree” She said with a smile.

“Just like a delicate lotus flower.” I said.

She giggled and blushed.

I could not figure out what this was, and what was going on. Was that “Kanda” in the car? My heart leapt at the thought.

After our night together, we woke up to Chinese agents kicking in my hotel door and opening fire. I killed two while trying to escape. I don’t know what happened to Kanda.

My cover was blown and The Farm demanded that I be extracted as soon as possible, I had to hide and move around till they could arrange the escape. I never saw or heard from Kanda again.

“Is that your mom?”  I asked the girls. They smiled and nodded in unison.

I had asked Personnel, and anyone else I could in the CIA, if they knew what happened to her. They either didn’t know, or was refusing to say.

But, here she was, and she had my daughters with her. I had wondered so many times about her, and finally here she was.

The old song by Murray Head played in my mind. “One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble…” And I was hard…so hard.  But, now I was humbled.

I laughed and waved, running out the door to meet her, while the girls followed me giggling. She jumped from the car beautiful, with her dark hair flowing as she ran to me for an embrace. We kissed and the girls danced around us.

That one night, has turned into a lifetime.

Bio: Chris Bunton is a Writer, Poet and Blogger from Southern Illinois.

Published by .

Publishing Editor for The Yard: Crime Blog.

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