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but it was the best I could do. I watched TV for a while, knocked for Sonthi; then when he ignored me I rode a cab to the movie theatre, where I watched another movie. It was the only air-conditioned thing I could think of that would get me out of the hotel. When I got back, Sonthi was still ignoring me, or passed out, whatever, so I watched yet another movie and fell asleep. 
    I now don't need to watch another movie for a long time, but Bangkok is exhausting in this heat. All you can do is eat, sit down and pass the hell out. I do feel bad for missing her dinner, though.
    'Shit,' Sonthi blurts, patting his board shorts, then his T-shirt pocket and rolling his eyes. 'Sunglasses. In room.' He sprints back to the elevator. 
    'Hurry up, man!' I glance at my watch. It's almost seven a.m. We're already running late for the airport. 
    'Where you go now?' Chinda asks me.
    I turn back to her. 'To Phuket, then back to Khao Lak. We both work at Dream Dive, on Bang Niang, you know it?'
    'I went one time,' she says, adjusting her digital photo frame on the counter. 'Before tsunami.'
    I nod, letting the air out of my nostrils slowly, drumming my fingers on the marble top, watching the images of the hotel rooms and restaurant dishes flashing at me one by one on the screen. I remember it that way, too. 
    A flutter of blue in the corner of my eye makes me turn my head. 
    The blue sundress. 
    I catch the upturned nose again as she sweeps past me, before I'm left with the back of her head, the long brown hair to the bottom of her shoulder blades, the white legs and feet in the flip flops. She must have come down the stairs; the elevator hasn't come for Sonthi yet. But now she's gone, out the door, onto the street. A crack of adrenaline freezes my heart.
    'Who's that?' I say to Chinda now. My palms are clammy. 'She's staying here?' My throat is dry. I feel like I did before, when I followed her down the street; like I've just seen a ghost. 
    'That could be your wife if you come for my dinner,' Chinda admonishes, but her face breaks into a grin. She laughs and totters out from behind the counter to rearrange a fan of magazines on a small table. I don't know what she's talking about. I'm bolted to the floor. I register the elevator arriving for Sonthi, another couple of backpackers walking out of it and towards me but I can't move. 
    'What's her name?' I say. It doesn't sound like my voice.
    'She has many name. She called Iss-laa,' Chinda replies, not looking at me. She moves the tiny red couch by an inch, scrutinizes it.
    'Iss-la?' I repeat. 'What kind of name is Iss-la?'
    'She said something else.' Chinda moves another chair now, pointlessly, looks at it thoughtfully. 'I be with you one second,' she tells the backpackers.
    'Something else? Like what?' 
    'Like... I not remember. Something funny.'
    'Chinda, like what? Iss-la isn't a name.' 
    I'm pissed at her. I know I sound it too, but I can't help it. That girl is so familiar, but then, I'm fucking crazy. I'm a crazy person. My fist is clenching. I shove it in my pocket, will myself not to bolt out the door after the girl. 
    Chinda bustles back towards me, goes about bringing up the backpacker's receipt. I watch her, gritting my teeth as she prints out the paper and hands it to them to sign. I'm about to go sit on her perfectly moved chair, force this insanity out of my thoughts when she looks up at me suddenly, like a light bulb's come on in her brain. 'Bizzy!' she exclaims.
    Bizzy.
    I almost throw up. I make it to the door in less than a second, push through it into the furnace. She's nowhere. She's gone. I spin around. I can't see the blue dress. I can't see anything 'cause there are tears in my eyes. I swipe them away, start moving down the street. The other morning she was here at the same time. She went to the coffee guy.
    I start running. I'm running so hard the sweat is pouring from my temples under my hair and soaking my shirt in less than a minute. 'Bizzy!' I still can't see