Free Cross Currents by John Shors Page A

village, noticing that the setting sun seemed to paint the coconut trees and the distant cliffs with amber. Suddenly he felt alone, almost as much as he had that night in Bangkok when he’d hidden from the police in some slums. That had been the worst night of his life. And though nothing on Ko Phi Phi compared to that horror, Patch needed to see his brother.
    He stood up and started walking toward the pier, brushing sand from his chafed hands. On the beach in front of the adjacent set of bungalows, a Thai man was juggling burning sticks, a group of about twenty tourists around him. The fire sticks created glowing arcs as they rose and fell, moving without pause. The smell of burning oil drifted to Patch and he turned to his left, away from the beach. Though he knew that the evening ferry wouldn’t arrive for at least another hour, he wanted to be on the pier when Ryan and Brooke stepped ashore.
    His pace quickened, and he passed by the wooden storefronts without a glance. Reggae music and laughter emerged from the village, and he wondered which of the many restaurants or bars had organized some sort of party. There was always a party being held on Ko Phi Phi. The only questions were where, when, and what theme.
    As he walked beneath a massive banyan tree and turned a corner, Patch stopped. Ten feet away, a guidebook in his hands, stood Ryan. His older brother saw him, lowered his book, and grinned. Patch noticed an attractive woman by Ryan’s side, but his gaze quickly returned to Ryan’s face. They came together and embraced, squeezing each other, their grips firm and unrelenting. Patch leaned back, lifting his brother off the ground in a bear hug.
    â€œYou’re so thin,” Ryan said, his voice deeper than Patch remembered, almost out of place amid the reggae music and the echoes of foreign languages and accents.
    â€œAnd you’re a rock,” Patch added, finally releasing Ryan. “It’s so great to see you.”
    â€œYou too.”
    â€œI can’t believe you’re really here.”
    â€œBrooke, this is my little brother, Patrick,” Ryan said, stepping back. “But we all call him Patch.”
    Brooke smiled, extending her hand. “Hi, Patch.”
    â€œHi. Here, let me take your bag.”
    â€œThanks,” she replied, noticing the remarkable similarities between the brothers. They possessed the same blue eyes, prominent cheekbones, and angular noses. Ryan’s blond hair had been cut short, while Patch’s was below his ears and his eyebrows. A sun-bleached, tangled mess, it looked to have not seen a comb in weeks. The tropics had also left a mark on Patch’s skin, which was quite tan. A white line encircled his wrist where a bracelet had been recently.
    As Brooke assessed him, Patch lifted her suitcase, surprised by her tank top and flip-flops. He’d expected Ryan’s girlfriend to be more serious-looking. Ryan had told him only about how the two of them had met in business school, how she was smart and strong and interested in the world. He’d never said that she would look right at home in a place like Ko Phi Phi.
    Leading them toward Rainbow Resort, Patch asked about their trip and pointed out some of the island’s highlights. Ryan inquired with careful, guarded questions about Patch’s situation, while Brooke gazed about in apparent wonder. Patch followed her eyes, seeing what she saw, glad that the island seemed to enchant her.
    He guided them to the best bungalow that Lek and Sarai had to offer. After they had settled in and changed clothes, they met him at the restaurant, where he introduced them to his Thai hosts. Sarai had prepared a feast of sorts—seafood soup in a lemongrass broth, fried rice, garlic shrimp, and vegetable curry. Just a few other patrons were seated, and after their plates had been cleared, only Patch, Ryan, and Brooke still ate. Suchin and Niran sat at a nearby table, laughing at the sight of