Conversations from the Jungle

from Finding Alex

Photo by Evan Krause on Unsplash

Alex took the long route to Khao San Road, this time winding through the alleyways. The detailed mechanisms of street vendors were conducted in these byways, known to foreigners as “wok alley.” It was also where she had walked with Finlay only a week earlier. Finlay, who was now somewhere in Kowloon. At least, they’d stretched out the time with his surprise visit to Maenam. But walking through the same alley, now, she thought how it all went so quickly.

The aroma of ginger wafted through the alley as the vapor of chilis lodged in the back of her throat. It seemed long already since he’d been there with her. She imagined him, now, in a tall building near “Golden Square,” or a place with a name such as this, sitting with a student staring up at him, absorbing the lesson. Then she saw his smile.

“Ah’ll be waitin’ in Kowloon if ye change yer mind.”

He had delayed his return a few times on Alex’s account.

A group of children collided with Alex, jolting her out of the past. They were running through the allies playing games while exhausted adults tried to stay cool. One woman, with an infant on the hip, leaned against a shanty fanning herself. While canals flowed through the city, they provided little relief from the sweltering heat, soiled as they were. One father managed to carry his toddler atop his shoulders, nonetheless, the boy overcome with laughter as “Phaw” whisked him through the murky passage.

She leaned against the wall, watching the families who were gathered around the shanties. All were listless in the Bangkok sun, including Alex, who reached up to wipe her brow.

“Ah hear the weather’s cracker,” Finlay had said of Kowloon.

But Alex was headed to India, not Kowloon.

Alex came to the tamarind tree, where the same young monk sat, and, seeing him caress his prayer beads, she felt around for the stone. She knew that reaching for the stone was to reach for Finlay. She wanted to be like the monk whose shoulders were slender and traveled light. Taking the stone from her pocket, she saw it was 12:13 and not the first time she noticed the time on her watch having the same numbers as her mother’s birthday.

She took the whole of the day to make it to the call box, but when she finally dialed the number, it was her sister who picked up on the other end.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Kath.”

“Alex?”

“Hi.”

“Hi, Alex.”

“So…”

Alex hesitated, for her sister was too quiet.

“How are things?

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Is mom there?”

“Mom’s in the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“She’s having surgery. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know, maybe she said something but…”

“Maybe you should call once in a while.”

“I do call.”

“You leave her hanging, saying you’ll call back but don’t. She’s worried sick.”

“I’ve been in the jungle…”

“I’ll say. You don’t need to convince me of that.”

They didn’t say anything for a while but hung there, the continuous droning of the phone line the only sound between them.

“When’s she coming home?”

“In a few days. She’s coming to find you, whether she’s ready or not.”

“Coming to visit me.”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll call back, then. Will you tell her I called?”

“Should I?”

“Kath.”

Her sister changed the subject.

“Anyway. What time is it there?”

Alex glanced down to see the clock turning midnight.

“Twelve.”

“Twelve, midnight?”

“Yeah, so.”

“Be careful, Al.”

“You, too,” Alex said, unsure of her reply. Her sister was home and safe as she could be.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Kath. Please tell mom….”

Kathryn hung up the phone too soon, which was strange. They were the ones who kept her on the phone as long as possible whenever she called; she was the one who always hung up first.

Alex stood in the call box a while till a scooter whizzed by and shook her out of her torpor.

Notes & Acknowledgments:

*Special thanks to LMK for her assistance with editing this episode to make deadline.

*Rather than the usual glossary of terms, all allusions in this episode are answered by reading earlier installments from the novel.

Previously published on Substack by Michelle Doherty © 2026