Sea of Sorrows
Book Two of
The Rod of God
by
Charley Brindley
[email protected]
www.charleybrindley.com
Book Cover by
Charley Brindley
On the cover
Prija is the girl on the right
Siskit is on the left
Edited by
Karen Boston
Website https://bit.ly/2rJDq3f
© 2019 by Charley Brindley, all rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition October 14, 2019
This book is dedicated to
Leo Alton Walker
Some of Charley Brindley’s books
have been translated into:
Italian
Spanish
Portuguese
French
Dutch
Turkish
Chinese
and
Russian
The following books are available in audio format:
Raji, Book One (in English)
Do Not Resuscitate (in English)
The Last Mission of the Seventh Cavalry (in English)
Hannibal’s Elephant Girl, Book One (in Russian)
Henry IX (in Italian)
Other books by Charley Brindley
1. The Rod of God, Book One: Edge of Disaster
2. Oxana’s Pit
3. Raji Book One: Octavia Pompeii
4. Raji Book Two: The Academy
5. Raji Book Three: Dire Kawa
6. Raji Book Four: The House of the West Wind
7. Hannibal’s Elephant Girl Book One: Tin Tin Ban Sunia
8. Hannibal’s Elephant Girl: Book Two: Voyage to Iberia
9. Cian
10. The Last Mission of the Seventh Cavalry
11. The Last Seat on the Hindenburg
12. Dragonfly vs Monarch: Book One
13. Dragonfly vs Monarch: Book Two
14. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book One: Exploration
15. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book Two: Invasion
16. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book 3: The Sand Vipers
17. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book 4: The Republic
18. Do Not Resuscitate
19. Ariion XXIII
20. Henry IX
21. Qubit’s Incubator
Coming Soon
22. Dragonfly vs Monarch: Book Three
23. The Journey to Valdacia
24. Still Waters Run Deep
25. Ms Machiavelli
26. Ariion XXIX
27. The Last Mission of the Seventh Cavalry Book 2
28. Hannibal’s Elephant Girl, Book Three
See the end of this book for details about the other books
I watched a girl strolling along the street, avoiding the crowds of people.
Most of them were young men, in groups of two and three, sometimes more.
Many young women lined the sidewalk, showing as much skin as possible, enticing the men to come inside their tiny rooms for a few minutes of pleasure.
It was past 2 a.m. on Saturday night, but the street was filled. Mostly pedestrians, but some on motor bikes. A few cars were parked along the curb, but no one tried to drive through the mob of people.
A few solitary middle-aged men browsed through the women, even one or two old men, like me. American, British, Australian…? I couldn’t tell unless they spoke.
The girl walked past me again, watching the people. She seemed out of place in her pressed baby blue blouse and tan skirt reaching below her knees.
I stepped away from the curb, trying to get a better look at her face. She ignored me.
She’s not working? Then what’s she doing in Ladprao, Bangkok’s busiest sex district? Waiting for someone? Young, maybe eighteen or so.
A group of four Thai men stopped her, asking something.
She shook her head and turned away.
One of the men took her arm, asking again.
The girl jerked away and hurried along the sidewalk, passing close by me. Obviously frightened.
The man who’d taken her arm yelled at her, “Hi taw nan ca mi kin xeng!”
It wasn’t a pleasant remark.
The four men laughed.
I turned the other way, watching the women work the street. This was my fifth night on the street.
What do I expect to find?
A girl in a pink bikini touched my arm. “You American come with me five little bit minutes?”
I smiled and shook my head.
How do they always know?
I’d left my suit and tie in the hotel room, trying to dress casual. Of course, my face gave me away as Caucasian, but why not British or Canadian?
I just can’t shed this American aura.
I started walking down the block, and several more women offered me their wares before I reached the end of it, then turned back to walk on the opposite side of the street.
The magnetism of the beautiful Thai faces drew me like a kitten’s dream of a room full of toy mice. The girls who offered themselves—almost pleading for my attention, or rather my money—repelled me. But the ones who stood back, crossed their arms and dismissed me with a haughty, slow turn of their heads; they were the fire I craved. I loved the arrogant attitude, but none had the right features: Her full lips; impish nose; and the small, almost childlike shape of her face. And her eyes were dark, glowing embers, ready to flare up and burn anyone who came too close. Long black hair thrown back with a flick of her fingers, as if brushing me away. That was how I saw her when we first met.
None could ever match that sweet image, but I wandered on, in search of someone who might.
Maybe, someday, just maybe—
“Leave me alone!”
It was a woman’s voice, behind me. I turned.
The girl!
A young man gripped her biceps. He said something I couldn’t hear.
“No!”
His buddy took her other arm. “Come on. Just for an hour,” he said in Thai. “We’ll pay you.”
It was the same four tormentors from earlier.
