Drug lives

Kishore knows it all too well - when you’re in a city like Bangkok, life never stops. Not even in the deepest hours of a wet and sticky August night do the rickety river taxis and the rattling tuk- tuks come to a halt. All human life is here. From the lady boys to the hookers, from the rickshaw drivers to drug dealers, from rag pickers to the noveau riche of Thailand’s business elite. And most importantly for Kishore, the foreign tourists. Tourists who learn to breathe car fumes and tropical air for the very first time. Tourists, 15 million of whom come converge in the backpacking capital of the world for their most explosive introduction to Asia. And every single one of them gets what they come for.

“Hey Kish!! Americans and they’re big. They need white. By Mongkuts Bar. Hurry! ” Its Kasem and he looked excited. Kishore is well used to this. Mongkuts Bar is one of the few bars up the river bend, that shows the National Football League live as it happens. And the Americans are always there. Usually on nights like these its good business for Kishore. Its busy, people are happy – they cant get enough, or they’re sad and they want more. To top it all it wasn’t raining, which meant handling easier. Even a drop could ruin a fortune. .

And, Kishore is well prepared for business tonight. 8 years in the job he can sniff out a good night from a bad, an American from a German. He’d gotten into one of the worlds biggest drug trafficking networks when he was as young as 8. Salim bhai had found him lying in an alley off Phun Shwet street in Khao Tan, a shanty town, known for its violent killings. Kishore was in a poool of blood, shivering and only barely conscious. Salim bhai had taken him to his own garage, where there were about 6 other boys about his age. Most of them looked thin and scrawny and although he’d never asked he knew they all had violent histories. Just like his.
Today, 8 years later, there were 17 boys in all ranging from 6 to 18. Kishore had climbed the ranks and he could now order the younger boys to deliver goods, ranging from weed to the white to the pills.

Tonight however he wanted to go along. The tips were usually better on nights like these. He knew from a keen ear and conversations with Americans about the NFL and by far that was his favourite sport. Mostly because he knew none else.

“ Hi, I’m Kish. You asking for white?” Kishore asked the guy in the white shirt and maroon cap. Kasem had directed him to the man. “yeah dude, how much for that small bag?” he asked pointing to the one in Kishore's hand. That was precisely what Kishore wanted.
“For you only 4000 baht. ”
“Too expensive my friend. I’ll take some later maybe.”.
Kishore couldn’t let the guy slip away. With that crowd, it could be big.

“Is Washinton Redskins?.
“What?” asked the bemused American, taking a huge gulp of Singhao beer. .
“Is Washingtun Redskins? Is my favourite team. They win 5 time and last year too. Detroit Loins is not good.”
Kishore knew the tell tale maroon colour of the Redksins cap.

“Yeah. Jeez dude. You know your stuff eh? Yeah Detroit Loins suck". He turned around, took his cap off and waved it to a man in a yellow t-shirt which said beach on it. "Hey Matt, this kid here hates the Detroit Lions".

“Yikes! How could he miss that?!!! You know what Jerry, right now I hate them too!” shouted a visibly irritated Matt from across the bar. Kishore had already met Matt – he'd sold him some ganja, the night before. A pretty good deal. He hoped he could do well with Jerry here too.

“Dude you gotto tell me , how much for 3 packets?” Jerry enquired. From Jerry’s tone and voice, Kishore knew Jerry had done this before. He was definitely a newcomer in these parts though , or Kishore would’ve remembered this bright bronze haired lean American.

Nervously looking over his shoulder , for cops or rival gangs, Kishore quoted his final price. He knew better than that especially at Mongkuts. “Ok You take 2 packets for 6000 baht. Best deal"
“Yeah that’s better kiddo. Steve you have cash?” Jeremy asked the dizzy eyed Steve sitting next to him.
Kishore looked around. “Hey Kasem, take this money and go give it to Salim bhai. I’ll come with the paisa I get from here and meet u at Nana plaza.” Without blinking, Kasem grabbed the money and dashed out.

Kishore trusted Kasem. Although Kishore had met Kasem a year and a half after Salim bhai found him, he’d become one of best friends. In a life like his, having friends was a novelty, even much so those who lasted. Most of the other boys he knew were either caught by the police or murdered by rival traffickers. Many died of overdoses. Kishore and Kasem however did their work well and brought good money to Salim bhai , so he looked after them well.
He’d never admitted it, but Kasem was the only true source of joy for him.

I dont know how to finish because i've committed i think the biggest crime any writer can commit. No solid story line. I'm learning.