"It will be like going to the Thao Suranari fair in Nakhon
Ratchasima." That was one of the largest fairs in Thailand. This
thought triggered his memory of a smaller fair in Bangkok.



This avuncular stranger, a member of the parliament and the
former governor of Pattaya, had informed Kumpee that the fair held in
March was coming to a close this year. This fair, run by government
ministries to raise funds for the Red Cross, was near the Parliament in
the area called Dusit. Tickets to enter were sold at 200 baht each.
The two other brothers--all, like him, boys with layers of manhood like
aluminum foil wrapped over the small crumbling pieces of cake that were
themselves-did not utter questions. Had Kazem robbed Thai Farmers
Bank, Siam Commercial, and Bangkok Bank entirely it wouldn't have made
any difference. The psyche needed a degree of ebullience. This was
their respite from worries about survival to which drugs or snookers
had been ineffective distractions. A bit of it insulated them from the
attitude of doom that would eagerly zip them up into its body bags.
A woman wearing a pointed straw hat, who had a 2-year-old baby
cuddled around her neck, thrust herself before them. She solicited
them to her table of snake blood refreshments seasoned with dried
monkey brain. She was one well-seasoned in salesmanship. She knew the
cajolery to lure daredevils who would come to such a fair as she knew
the approach to children whom she would sell her krathongs, banana
boats of flowers and candles attached to banana leafs and Styrofoam
sailed onto the river for good fortune during each Loi krathong
festival, or Buddhist rosaries and necklaces to old women during
religious holidays.
" Please come over to my table, boys." They smiled and came. " I