Sunken Fish - Chapter 55
"A taxi?" He feigned ignorance, as if he could hail a taxi in some remote place. "A taxi, oh no, driving on this road,"
They understood the word "taxi," just as they understood why Berhali had put the money on the table. They pointed to the police cars outside, then to Berhali, and finally to two of the policemen. They assured him in Lanna that they would get Berhali back safely.
The map was spread out on the table, with Berhali's money beside it. The policemen discussed nervously, as if they were planning a secret military operation: "We'll take this road, you see, south... By the way, where are we right now?"
Seeing that the underling already had the money in his hand, Berhali's discussion became more lively: "Judging from this foreigner's clothes, he's probably staying at the best hotel—the Golden Land Hotel. Anyway, let's go check it out first."
Escaping from the jaws of death (2)
As one person put away the map, another offered Berhali a cigarette. Although Berhali didn't smoke, it would be unwise to refuse, so he accepted it as a gesture of goodwill.
Ten minutes later, a white police car pulled up on the side of the road with its siren blaring, frightening everyone who heard it.
Among those who were frightened was Mr. Joe, the driver. He saw the police car approaching; it was white, like a god riding a white horse. What bad luck! What disaster had struck? Was it in front of him or behind him? The police car sped past.
Mr. Joe saw flashing police lights in his rearview mirror. Walter looked back and saw a police car parked behind them, like a panting dog. Joe glanced at Walter, whose heart was pounding. He forced himself to remain calm and told Joe to pull over.
The car slowly came to a stop. Woding composed himself, reached into his pocket, and elegantly pulled out his ID card. Joe opened the glove box and placed three more cigarettes into the shrine.
"Fool!"
He heard Berhali jump out of the back seat of the police car and berate them affectionately. Berhali pointed at them, laughing maniacally. The policemen who had been laughing just a moment ago now resumed their serious expressions. One of them held out his hand and ordered Walter to put his ID in it. Walter simultaneously handed over a document with Berhali's name on it.
The police officer gave them a thorough inspection, then threw a stack of documents back at them, saying curtly, "Why are you letting your guest wander around outside alone? This violates tourism regulations."
Walter dealt with the police in the best way he knew: "Yes, it was our fault."
What if a foreigner trespasses into a restricted area?
“Yes,” Walter nodded and bowed repeatedly, “thankfully he didn’t.”
The policeman snorted, "Next time, you won't get away with it so easily."
Back on the bus, Berhali waved happily to his police friends through the window, and Joe turned the bus around and drove back to Mandala.
Walter turned to face Berhali: "I'm sorry to have left you here, it was all in a rush..."
No explanation needed.
"I'm still excited," said Beryl happily. "He did it! He used his professional skills and quick thinking to save himself from physical harm. It was brilliant! The police almost opened fire, but he skillfully analyzed the situation, remained calm, and explained things correctly, and they stopped pointing guns at him. He succeeded! Unbelievable, he succeeded!"
He hadn't felt this kind of excitement in a long time. Bang, bang, bang, everything was in place. This was something he'd lacked in his work for the past few years—adventure. He seized the opportunity and achieved unexpected success. He wanted to recapture that feeling and stop his old, unchanging, comfortable, well-paid but boring job.
He took a deep breath, then sniffed: "My God, what's that smell? It's awful."
Walter turned back again: “Some people are sick, I suspect it’s travel sickness. I’ve done my best to make them comfortable.”
"Who?" Berhali asked. "Who's sick?"