I sit beside my Mom in my black suit and tie, trying really hard not to cry. It is raining, as if the skies are not afraid to weep for my father as I am. My Dad, a sergeant in an elite mountain unit was killed in Afghanistan a week ago and we are laying him to rest today. I look around at the sea of black umbrellas and jump as the guns go off, saluting him. Finally, my tears start flowing–Mom had never discouraged me crying, but it did not seem like something that Dad would have condoned.

Mom, takes my hand and leads me away from the grave site. She has the flag that had been draped over his grave hugged close to her breast with her other arm. A uniformed man is holding a dripping black umbrella over us until we finally get into the back seat of the limousine.

I watch as the grey city scenery flies by, tears still rolling down my cheeks at times. Mom hands me a Kleenex from her purse and I wipe my nose, sniffling a bit. Finally, the driver drops us off at the departure section of the airport and takes out our suitcases. Mom once again takes my hand and leads me to the curbside check-in. She checks our luggage and leads me inside to the ticket counter where she shows our passports and gets our boarding passes. We then make our way through security and to the gate. My Mom had just accepted a job for the embassy in Thailand when the uniformed men had come and told us about my Dad. We were now on our way to a new life in some remote area of Thailand–for how long remains to be seen.

As we are sitting there waiting at the gate, a pretty lady in a stewardess uniform comes over and kneels next me. She smiles at me and says, “Well, don’t you look all nice dressed up in your suit. What is your name and how old are you?” I look at her sadly and say, “We just came from my Dad’s funeral, he was a soldier, and we are now on our way to Bangkok for my Mom’s new job. I am eleven–almost twelve.” Mom squeezes my hand and smiles sadly at the attendant whose own smile twitches a bit. She hands me a coloring book and some crayons and says, “I am sorry to hear that, Honey. Would you like something to drink, or a snack?” I shake my head no and thank her as she goes back to her desk.

Soon enough, we are boarding the plane. After the lady had found out our situation, the airline gave us a free upgrade to business class and I am in awe at the size of the seats. Mom is very grateful and thanks the lady a lot as we board. She just squeezes her arm and tells her again how sorry she is.

I sleep a lot of the trip and am wide awake when we finally arrive. Mom looks even more tired than before, but takes my hand and leads me off of the plane and into the airport. We go through passport control and get our bags before going out and finding a taxi to take us to our hotel. Even though it is 9 a.m. here, it is six p.m. in Los Angeles and Mom is totally wiped out when she unlocks the door to the room. We just pull the bags through the door and Mom tells me she needs to lie down a bit and collapses on the bed in her room. I turn on the TV out of curiosity but, of course, I can’t understand a thing, so I decide to read some.
Mom finally gets up a couple of hours later and we go to the hotel restaurant for an early lunch. After we eat, she asks the front desk to get us a taxi and we ride to the embassy. Mom checks in and they tell us that they will send a car for us tomorrow that will take us to our house.

We spend the rest of the day touring Bangkok and go to bed around ten. The next morning the car picks us up at ten, as promised. It takes us to our new house, although it is very small. Mom sort of rolls her eyes a bit, but does not say anything about the accommodations to the driver, it is not his fault. Mom thanks him and he starts driving back towards the embassy. We look at each and Mom does her best not to start crying again. Mom looks through the refrigerator and finds that it is stocked, so she makes us a salad and we go to bed early, since there is nothing better to do at the moment.

I wake up at eight and Mom is still sleeping soundly. I quietly get dressed and find some fruit for breakfast. Then I go outside to look around the house. I slowly walk a little further from the house, but not too far, when I run into a girl about my age–maybe a bit older. She smiles and says in somewhat broken English, “Hi, I am Dao. What your name is?” I smile at the cute girl and say, “Hi, I am Daniel. My friends call me Danny. How old are you?” I look at her, she is already getting curves and showing some boobs, so I am sure that she is probably fifteen, or so. She smiles and says, “I…ten and two…” I look a bit confused and then say, “Oh, you are twelve? I am almost twelve. It is only a couple of months…” We continue talking for several more minutes, until Mom pokes her head out the door with a worried look and calls my name. When she sees that I am right there, she looks relieved and calls me in. I say good-bye to Dao and go inside where Mom starts to scold me for going out on my own without letting her know.

Later, I talk Mom into letting me go outside again right after lunch. I see Dao again and I wave at her. She comes over and I start talking to her. After a few minutes, a group of boys comes by and starts taunting Dao in a language that I don’t understand. Then the obvious leader of the bunch looks at me and says in the same broken English as Dao, “I am A-Wut and you no should be with kathoey.” I hate bullies and this is an obvious bully. I am small and have no chance against these guys, but stand up to them anyway–especially since I have no idea what he is talking about. I look back at him and repulse a nervous shudder as I say, “I am Danny and I will be with whomever I want. What is your problem, anyway?” He smirks at me and says, “You want be with that? OK, we call you Kanya; that your new name now. We let everyone know!” The group goes away laughing. My heart is beating really hard and fast. I had expected them to beat me up or something. I look at Dao and ask, “Are you OK, Dao? What were they talking about? What did they mean?” She looks at me confused and tries to explain, “I no good. I kathoey…ladyboy…” I look at her and roll my eyes as I say, “They don’t like you because you are a tomboy? That is stupid! Well, I will be your friend.” She hugs me and says, “But they call you Kanya. You be…no good…to many if my friend.” I shake my head and say, “I don’t know what that means, but stupid names won’t hurt me…”

Mom asks me about my day as we are sitting down for dinner. I tell her that I had met with Dao and think we will become friends. I don’t mention the others, since I assume that they will leave me alone now.

The next day, I am outside waiting for Dao when the trio of idots shows up holding Dao in a tight grip. A-Wut says, “Hello, Kanya. You with me.” And he makes me come into an alleyway with him while the other two hold a struggling Dao. He holds out two pills and tells me to take them. I look at him like he is crazy. He just smirks and says, “You want be with kathoey, you pay price. You take pills and not say word to anyone–not Dao, too. If not, we hurt Dao bad.” I know there is no hope for me to do anything to help Dao except take the pills. He watches and makes sure I swallow the bitter pills. Then he says, “We meet here every morning and evening and you take pills. You no say nothing or Dao pay.” I nod my head figuring that I will figure something out. A-Wut leaves the alley and I exit it behind him as his cronies let Dao go. Dao looks worried but I wink at her, not letting on that anything had happened. After they leave, all I tell her is that he threatened me some more and leave it at that.

To be continued in Part 2.