short story
Turning of the Tides (Finale of the ‘Diabetes’ series of stories)
by Martin Bradley "See you in four days then. Take care darling." Those are Andrew Goodchild's famous last words to his younger partner, the Malaysian artist Sugar Khoo. They are at Kuala Lumpur International Airport 2 (KLIA 2) and it is the sixteenth of March. Andrew is due to board his AirAsia Flight AK 540 (at 12.45pm). Seat 19B “So far all smiles”, from inside the airport terminal Andrew Facebook messages to Sugar, . “it’s difficult to tell under the blue masks though”, he continues. Andrew presents his, minimal, bags at the x-ray scanning conveyor. He feels a little guilty about not wearing a belt in his trousers. Scanning officials inevitably ask to see a belt, and Andrew disappoints them each trip. His Marks and Spencer baggy (made in Bangladesh) cotton trousers need no belt, only a cord with a haphazardly tied knot. "It’s such a shame. Perhaps on my next trip I shall wear a belt to please the officials, let them show me where I should place it, and then I can tell them where to shove it" Andrew messages to Sugar. Then he is in the 'Departures' area heading to his 'Gate'. To Andrew, Kuala Lumpur International Airport 2 appears no less busy amidst this presenting pandemic than at any other time. He is not quite sure just what he expected, empty spaces perhaps, people cowering, shying away from contact but, at this point in our story Andrew has noticed no bell ringing, no ‘Bring out your dead’, and no hook-beaked Charles de Lorme plague masks on black clad doom bearers. Business, despite a world pandemic, is as usual at KL International airport. Siem Reap, on the other hand, is sanitiser mad. 98
Andrew finds that entry to Siem Reap airport changes each time he arrives. But he is through. He has no luggage to collect and his host Meyta Souk (Khmer Director of the charity ‘Art will save the world’), leaps to douse Andrew with misting fluid as he steps out of the bijou airport. “Everyone must be spray,” she says. Andrew is busy cleaning his glasses as Meyta continues... “Papa, tourism is down in town”. She pulls a sad face for emphasis. In a place that relies on tourism to survive, this is very difficult for the locals. “Small business hard no tourists America, Japan, Europe” she says. To Andrew’s mind that is both a blessing and a curse. No tourists means Siem Reap is easy to navigate, no tourists also means that places are closing, and some closing down which is not such a good thing. Meyta whisks Andrew from the airport. Her twin sister Meyka is driving. They traverse the dusty roads still filled with pedal and motorised transport and head for the building housing ‘Art will save the world’ along Preah Sangreach Tep Vong St. Andrew's small room has been made ready on the third floor. It is normally saved for people on a ‘residency’, or important guests giving art and craft workshops over a period of time, but as it is for such a short time Andrew thinks it fine. He slings his small rucksack into the room and, crippled with pangs of hunger, walks through a small adjacent alleyway to Hup Guan Street, which runs parallel to where ‘Art will save the world’ is situated. He saunters through another small alley
