As the early morning light began seeping through the gap between the curtains, attempting to bath the room with its dim, slow-moving rays, Noi rolled over, as sluggish as her mind, her consciousness caught some place between wakefulness and slumber. Her sleep had been uneasy, her night full of refracted dreams. Like trying to read newsprint through a diamond. She reached across to where So’s body should have been stretched across the bed, his back to her, his arm hanging off the edge of their bed as though reaching for something forever just beyond his grasp in that way that he had, only to find his presence as elusive as the memory of the tail end of her dream. With one eye opening to confirm what her mind already knew, Noi sighed, giving voice to her longing, blaming the emptiness for awakening her, marveling at how deafeningly loud someone’s absence could be.

The cacophony of the neighborhood begrudgingly starting its day battled with the nascent daylight for her still wakening mind’s attention, the angry bleating of a tuk tuk passing by punctuating the smoker’s hack of the old man who lived in the room below. The sound of doors shutting loudly echoed through the building; the neighborhood’s roosters began their morning cry. Exerting their authority. Marking their territory. Like a dog peeing on a lamppost. Only noisier.

“Fucking roosters!” Noi thought, then giggled, realizing her condemnation – while technically warranted – singled out the wrong species of rooster for her discontent. Noi hated waking alone. She hated waking up without So beside her. That his absence meant the potential of staving off yet another angry visit from their landlord did little to ease the despondency the gloom cast by the paucity of sunlight that had managed to struggle through the gathering clouds seemed intent on fostering, a murky feeling of loneliness and abandonment that the warmth of So’s body nested against hers would have helped temper.

A soft zephyr of a breeze made its timid entrance through the open window by her bed, bringing with it an insipid cloud of diesel fumes from a truck making its way down the soi, its intricate clattering of gears encouraging the old man below to put more effort into clearing his lungs. His routine in greeting the dawn was more annoying than the roosters’. And at least the roosters had something to crow about. Their downstairs neighbor was a dour, unfriendly man of indeterminate age – beyond ancient – who relied upon a narrow roster of derisory scowls to broadcast his resentment of life. He had a voice like a blender grinding ice. A voice he used sparingly, barking out brusque, stunted – and at time, indecipherable – words, supplanting normal human conversation with the hacking noises his lifetime addiction to nicotine favored.

Noi briefly considered whose neck she’d rather wring, the roosters’ or the old man’s. Wit’s face popping into her mind settled the debate. She nestled back into the fold of her pillow, listening for the faint snore that would mark his presence in the outer room. But the sofa he used as his bed was as empty as the expanse of sheets that signaled her husband had booked a customer the night before too. Wit’s absence had less of an affect on Noi’s mood than So’s did. If anything, she thought, it was a welcome start to her day.

It wasn’t that Noi didn’t like Wit. No one didn’t like Wit. He was a charmer, a smooth talker who despite his frequent failings still managed to always enchant. But the money that, to her, had been the selling point when she’d agreed with So that his bar mate could share their home seldom, if ever, seemed to materialize. That was the problem with Wit, Noi thought. It was difficult to blame him even when he was to blame. He tried to do his part, tried to bring the money he earned in tips home to pay his share of the rent, but with a good hour between the soi and home there were just too many distractions, too many places where those funds could be spent, too many friends willing to help celebrate his good fortune. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, his intentions were always honorable. If seldom realized. It was just that total self-absorption was the one commitment Wit never failed to keep.

Noi knew, when Wit finally showed up sometime later that day, he’d hand over what he could, what he had left, hoping his smile, draped with sincerity and promises, would make up for the shortage. Noi liked Wit. She enjoyed his company and the way he made So laugh. Just thinking of his boisterous vivaciousness put a smile on her face. Until the reality of his total disregard for his responsibilities caused it to flee, leaving behind no traces it had ever been there.

Living in Bangkok was not cheap. Everything came at a price. And an expensive one at that. Back home in their village So and Noi could have lived comfortably, if frugally. But village life offered little opportunity and both of their families needed the additional income the two could make by working in Bangkok. It was just that after paying rent – which always seemed to be past-due – buying food, household necessities, and paying for the use of three cell phones, there was never much leftover to send back home. What little they managed helped, but both of their parents were getting older fast and would need more financial assistance soon. That didn’t make managing their household finances any easier. And lately Lek, her younger brother, had become more and more vocal, begging to join them in Bangkok, promising that he’d find work that would help both their family back home and them. Noi loved her brother. But so far, his staying with them just sounded to her like another mouth to feed. She wasn’t sure if adding another to her growing flock was the smart thing to do. Too many roosters in the hen house would always be problematic. Even though she suspected one of those roosters had hen tendencies of his own.

It’d been years since Noi saw Lek last. His voice had just been deepening then, though that pitch had barely moved on the scale she remembered with a laugh, turning to share her humor with So only to be reminded again of his absence. Maybe having another body in the house wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe Lek could find a job with hours that matched hers. Maybe she wouldn’t have to spend so many nights by herself then. And Lek was such a sweet boy. When So got home Noi would have to tell him that decision had already been made.

Dim shadows played tag with the dark gathered across the ceiling of her room; Noi knew she still had some time left before she’d have to get out of bed and start her day. Only those with no choice in the matter would be stirring this morning, the gloom would soon be added to by rain keeping the streets relatively free of its usual bustle. The morning market would be emptier than normal too; she could make quick work out of her shopping needs. And then it would be better to wait and see what the weather had planned for the day before pushing the barbeque cart out to its spot. Noi worked for an old lady down the soi who was too frail to manage her food cart on her own. Truth be told, Noi thought that old lady was just a bit lazy too.

It was Noi’s job to fetch the meat and vegetables from the market, her responsibility to haul the cart out to the corner at the main road. She’d fire up the grill, prepare the sticks of barbeque, and wait on the occasional customer until business took off in the early afternoon. Later, much later, the old woman – Mama Khem – would appear to perch regally behind her stand giving Noi meticulous instructions on every little detail of the operation as though she’d never worked the cart before. It was Noi’s duty too to return later that night and haul the cart back to where it was stored next to Mama Khem’s house. Noi didn’t think that was fair. But Mama Khem was the boss and she’d used the logic that if someone didn’t move the cart back, it wouldn’t be there for Noi to haul out to the street in the morning. And since that was Noi’s job, it was up to her to make sure the cart was where it needed to be. Okay, so Mama Khem was a lot lazy.

Noi hoped one day to have a cart of her own. She knew she could be a success, all her customers raved about her barbeque, usually any Mama Khem thought she had to make for the evening rush were still sitting there when Noi returned later to help close the stall down. She’d been squirreling away a few baht here, a few baht there, slowly building a nest egg to finance a cart of her own. Some day. She’d have to leave her customers behind, find a new spot to set up shop. That was only fair. Even if Mama Khem wasn’t. Noi had shared her dream with So. He’d teased her that she would become hi-so and wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. She offered to skewer his meat on a barbeque stick, she told him as long as he was selling it, there was no reason she shouldn’t too. So had not thought her joke was funny.

So had told her that around Soi Twilight the food vendors charged twice the price she charged in their neighborhood. And that many of the customers were farang who couldn’t tell the difference between a hen and a rooster. She could make an even larger profit by selling cheaper rooster meat to them. Noi smiled, thinking things might get quieter around their room then too. She knew the rent would be higher along Suriwong, she’d have to pay for a place to store her cart too, and there’d be tea money to pay on top of that. But she’d be her own boss. And she would get to see more of So too.

Occasionally, Noi had accompanied So to the soi at night, hanging out nearby with a gaggle of wives and girlfriends of the men who worked in the bars, gossiping among themselves for lack of a more productive use of their night while they waited for closing time and their lives to begin again. Twice, So had booked a long-time off, could only give her a subtle nod as he walked his customer out to the street, leaving Noi to return home on her own to a room that seemed even emptier when the question of whether or not So would make it to their bed that night was already answered. Maybe having her cart by his bar wouldn’t be that good of an idea after all.

Noi’s daydreams gave way to the insistent light that rudely spotlit the empty space in her bed. With a disconsolate groan she rolled over and then off the mattress that had again brought no pleasure to her life. A derisive snort followed her thoughts that as a hi-so business lady maybe she could afford to book her husband’s time for her own enjoyment. Another of the neighborhood’s roosters began its call, as if to chide her for the flaw in her scheme, cock sure in its atavistic knowledge of the pecking order of things, reminding her again it was those farang strutting down Soi Twilight like banty roosters who paid the bills. Noi sighed, decided nothing good would come from brooding over it. She checked her cellphone, hoping she’d missed a call or text from So, saw that she hadn’t, and noting the hour realized she needed to shake a tail feather if she was going to get to the morning market before the vendors began shutting down their stalls.

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