Still no call

It’s day five and still he hasn’t come home. I’ve not heard the phone ring and I’m so worried. Everyone else is doing ordinary things, even mum. My stupid brothers, who aren’t even my real brothers, and I wish they’d pissadeared and not my dad, are carrying on as if my dad doesn’t matter. They wake up, eat their breakfast, do a poo and go to school without a worry. I hate them.

Mum still wakes up, makes the breakfast, takes them to school, comes home and does the washing and ironing. But I don’t hate her.

The only good thing is; I get to go on her motor bike because she wouldn’t leave me at home on my own. I don’t care if she did. But I like the motor bike ride.

We go to the market and everyone says; “Hello farang noi.” (That is “Little foreigner”). I used to like being called that. Now it gets on my nerves and I wish they’d shut the bloody up.

I keep hoping someone would ask where my dad is, and mum would have to tell them and then I’d know.

But she wouldn’t tell them if the mafia men had kidnapped him. His beer mat collection is still in the big box, so they haven’t asked for that. Unless it’s so val’able my mum won’t swap it for my dad. No, I can’t believe that.

She wouldn’t tell anyone if he’d been arrested and taken to the monkey house. But she wouldn’t have to. Everyone would know if that was true. Maybe it is. That’s why they don’t ask where he is. Oh my God! That must be it.

He’s been arrested and thrown in the monkey house with all the bad men. But for what? He hasn’t got any tattoos. All the bad men in the monkey house have lots of tattoos. I saw them once when dad took me there to buy a new bed.

I thought it strange that we didn’t go to the bed shop. Dad said that all the good stuff is made in the monkey house.

He said that the police arrest bad men who cut down all the good trees. They consifcate the wood and tell them to make furniture with it, or else.

Or else what? I don’t know, but they looked happy doing the furniture, so maybe they don’t know ‘or else’ either. The things they made were pretty amazing, we’ve got loads of stuff made by the bad men. Dad said that he wanted to make his own furniture, but you can’t get the good wood.

Well, he can make lots of furniture now that he’s in the monkey house. It’s nice knowing where he is. It’s nice to know he’s happy making things with the good wood. I only hope he doesn’t have to get a tattoo.