Chapter 27 Mee Noi
Chapter Twenty-seven: Mee Noi
The sound of the door shutting wakes me.
Raising my head, I look around blurrily.
I’m lying half-on, half-off Sud, our bare legs entwined.
Another couple seconds and I remember where we are.
I meant to go back to my room last night, but I must have fallen asleep.
I sit up and look at the door. Did I really hear it shut or was that a dream?
Beside me, Sud’s face is slack with sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Sliding out of bed, I quietly leave the room and go to the bathroom. After relieving myself and brushing my teeth, I pad downstairs and follow the delicious smells to the kitchen.
Mae looks up from where she’s cooking at the stove.
“Good morning,” she says, smiling warmly at me.
“Morning, Mae,” I say after kissing her on the cheek. “Can I help with breakfast?”
“Thank you, sweetheart, but I’ve got it under control. Pah’s having his coffee on the porch. Why don’t you join him?”
I pour myself a cup and step out onto the covered porch. The sun hasn’t been up for long, and it’s still relatively cool out.
“Mee Noi. You’re up already?” he asks.
I nod, taking a seat near him.
“Did you have a nightmare last night?” he asks.
Puzzled, I frown. “No, why?”
“I hope you’re not ashamed to tell me,” Pah says. “I believe you when you say you don’t remember what happened at Kaeng Krachan, but I’m aware you still have nightmares because Sud told me.”
Pah had explained to me that I had freaked out that day when I thought Sud was lost in the woods, but until that moment I hadn’t put it together with my nightmares of running though the dark woods looking for Sud.
At the same time, thankfully, it clicks why Pah is asking.
He must have been the one I heard shutting the door to Sud’s room.
“I do still have them,” I admit, not meeting his eyes and hoping he takes it as shame at having lied about having one during the night that drove me to Sud’s bed because I don’t think I can lie to him outright.
Sounding relieved, Pah says, “Maybe they’ll taper off and you’ll be rid of them now that you know why you have them and that Sud wasn’t really lost that day, but safe with Mae.”
I nod, staring into my coffee cup, praying he’ll drop the subject.
Ten runs into the room. “P’Mee Noi! Sud won’t get up. I tried to wake him. I want to show you the treehouse before breakfast!”
Chuckling, I set my cup on a table and stand, glad for a reason to escape this conversation with Pah. “You can show me now and then show Sud later,” I say.
Ten’s grin is huge. “Okay, let’s go!”
“Don’t take long,” Pah says as we slip on our shoes. “Mae will have breakfast ready soon.”
We promise we won’t and Ten tugs at my hand, leading me down the stairs and onto the lawn. The thinner, outer part of the woods is dappled in early morning sunlight. Leaves and sticks crunch under our feet as we walk into the woods.
“This has gotten really overgrown,” I say, looking at the familiar path that leads to the treehouse.
“Pah hasn’t had time to clear it lately,” Ten calls back. He’s moving quickly, ahead of me now. A couple of very noisy Asian Koels cry out above our heads. The moment is so reminiscent of the many times Sud and I walked this same path together, I can’t help but smile with happiness.
“Right after you and P’Sud left for university, Pah helped me and Oat paint the outside of the treehouse a dark brown so it really blends in. Like camouflage,” Ten says.
Amused, I ask, “Any special reason you want to be hidden?” I keep my eyes on the trail. It badly needs to be cleared, detritus from the last rainy season making walking difficult. Maybe Sud and I can do it for Pah before we leave.
“You never know when we might have a secret meeting,” Ten says, making me chuckle.
He’s still ahead of me, eager to get to our destination.
I don’t know what makes me look ahead at that moment, as my eyes have been on my feet up to that point, but I do and immediately spot the snake, standing up half its length with its ribs spread into a hood and head reared back.
Lunging, I grab Ten around the waist and pull him backward several steps just as the snake strikes.
“Cover your eyes!” I say sharply, and Ten immediately lifts his shirt over his face.
“I-is it…” his voice is shaking. Pah has taught us all about the deadly snakes of Thailand, and Ten knows as well as I do which of them can spit venom and permanently blind a person.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “I saw the circle on the back of its hood when it struck.” Plus, the snake’s head is small, so I’m fairly certain which of the three species of cobra it is.
Monocled cobras are notoriously aggressive, and have a variety of toxins in their venom, including neurotoxins that often result in amputations and deformities.
All this runs through my mind as I slowly back away, partially shielding my face behind Ten’s covered head while trying to put distance between us and the agitated snake.
Once, years ago, Sud and I were walking with Pah on a friend’s property and encountered a king cobra that reared up like this one is doing and growled at us like a dog.
It was terrifying. Fortunately, king cobras are relatively shy, and we were able to leave the area without harm. Not so the monocled cobra.
This snake isn’t growling, but it’s hissing and swaying.
Pah taught us that cobras have very good eyesight, and the one on the path in front of us is looking straight at us with its dark, beady eyes.
My heart beats hard against Ten’s back. I’m holding him to my chest with his feet off the ground, and I want to run back to the house with him, but I know I can’t make any sudden moves or turn my back on the cobra.
“Is it gone? Is it gone?” Ten asks fearfully through his cotton shirt.
My eyes never leaving the snake, I say, “No. Be very still, I’ve got you.”
I continue to inch backward, but, when the snake suddenly slithers toward us, I stumble and fall.
“Ten, run!” I shout. “Run home!”
Ten scrambles to his feet and takes off down the path, footfalls loud in the morning air.
I sit perfectly still on the ground, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the strike.
I can hear the snake hissing close by and know that at any moment, its fangs will sink into my skin.
All I can think is at least Ten is safe.