The shoreline was alive with the usual nightlife, with street musicians beating rhythms on drums and blowing trumpets in the glow of advertising lights.

I walked on, not knowing where I was going. What kind of friend am I? Why did I shout at her for and push her? But her? If she wants protection, she should stay with Bob. She said she maid a movie. I wonder what it’s about. I guess I’ll never found out.

“Hey, are you blind?” I heard a sharp shout. “You stepped on my foot!”

A tall, red-faced man in a T-shirt that said “I’m Russian” bumped my shoulder.

“Sorry,” I mumbled absent-mindedly.

“Relax!” my compatriot grinned and said to the Thai woman hugging him. “He’s drunk.”

She giggled submissively and they went on their way.

I looked around. In the street cafes, cooks were cooking fried rice over open fires, generously sprinkled with spices and garlic, and poured with soy sauce. Vegetables stewed, knives clattered, and slices of meat sizzled on hot pans. Tom Yam was gurgling, spreading the sweet and sour smell of lemongrass. Banana pancakes were browned until crispy. Crushed ice melted under fresh fish, sugar cane and tangerine juices frothed in tall glasses.

At the entrance to the Green Parrot Restaurant, I noticed a familiar figure in a panama hat. Randy! He wasn’t alone, but he was with a drunken long-haired man, who could barely move his tongue, demanding a lottery ticket. Randy was nervous. Apparently, he had his sights set on another victim in the restaurant, and the hairy man was in his way.

I didn’t want to see him or talk to him after the morning confrontation and the conversation with Irene, but after thinking about it, I decided to intervene.

“Mr. Brown!” I waved my hand. “Where are you? All the guests are already here, we are just waiting for you.”

Randy gave me a puzzled look, but quickly realized my ruse.

He pushed the clinging man away and came rushing up to me:

“Ah, Vincent!” he said, smiling broadly. “I’m so glad to see you!”

And then, muttering through his teeth: ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he dragged me away.

We trotted a block before we could catch our breath.

“Grand merci, dude,” Randy said, puffing up and popping down on the bench. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I was all set at the restaurant, the rich Yankee had agreed to pull the ticket as soon as he’d finished his dinner, which I had paid for by the way, but then that orangutan came out and spoiled my game, damn him! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Randy,” I said as firmly as I could. “Stay away from Irene!”

“Oh, that’s what you mean,” he grinned. “What happens if I don’t listen to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll fall and break your leg or your nose.”

“Dude, are you threatening me?”

“Just stay away from her, that’s all.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Randy hummed. “Have you ever heard the saying: a dog doesn’t worry an unwilling bitch?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“I’ve heard it. She’s not a bitch, and she doesn’t like you.”

“Well, we’ll see,” he stood up. “All right, the Yankee has probably finished his dinner by now, so I have to go, before he leaves.”

“What makes you think that the Golden Ticket should only go to a rich person?” I asked him a question that had been bothering me for a long time.

“Who do you think should draw it? Maybe they’ll get lucky?” he chuckled.

I followed the careless wave of his hand. A couple came out of the supermarket. He was in his mid-thirties, tall, athletic, with a short dark hair. In some ways he looked like me – shorts, linen sleeveless shirt, holding a Seven-Eleven bag of yoghurts and water. His date was even younger. Pretty, in a denim sundress, she walked lightly, eating waffle ice cream. Oddly enough, she also looked like Irene.

“So you think the Golden Ticket will be drawn by one of them?” Randy repeated.

“Why not?” I replied. “What do we know about them?”

Randy looked at the couple again and hesitantly took a step toward the man.

“I beg your pardon, aren’t you from the Imperial Hotel?” He asked his usual question.

“Why do you ask?” The man smiled. “Want to come in?”

“Actually, no,” Randy laughed ingratiatingly. “Would you like to play the lottery?”

“Let’s go,” the girl touched her companion’s sleeve, “I don’t like this guy.”

“There’s no deception!” Randy hastened to reassure them. “You can win a trip to a wonderful palace, where you can rest and regain your strength. Everything is in your hands. Guys, you don’t want to miss this chance, do you?”

Meanwhile, the couple turned to bamboo huts that were neither luxurious nor particularly beautiful, just cheap bungalows for backpackers.

“So you’re from here?” said the bearded man disappointedly. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

“If I understand you correctly, you are not coming to visit us,” the man said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what, give me your bag, I think I’m ready to try my luck.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Randy backed away from him.

“No, you’ve been trying to get me to play for so long, I just have to,” he insisted.

The bearded man sighed heavily and held out a black bag:

“Okay, dude, take it out. But don’t blame me later.”

“No! Don’t do that!” I rushed towards the stranger, intending to stop him, but he had already taken the ticket out of the bag with the dexterity of a magician and was unfolding it.

Randy watched him, his eyes bulging.

“The Golden ticket,” the man read with a smile. “I suppose this is your super prize?”

“That’s impossible!” Randy muttered.

They studied each other for a few seconds, as if pondering something, when suddenly the bearded man let out a wild yell and snatched the coveted rectangle out of the lucky man’s hands.

“I won’t give it to you!” he shouted. “This is some kind of mistake!”

And then incredible happened. Randy was gone. He didn’t run or hide or even fall through the ground. He slowly disappeared into the air, like mist in the sun’s rays. On the spot where he had just stood, there was only a small piece of gold paper.

The couple stared at it in horror without moving. I bent down and took the ticket:

“Take it, it’s yours.”

“No, keep it!” They blurted out in unison and hurried away.

I put the ticket in my pocket, walked back to the supermarket, then circled the block – Randy was nowhere to be seen. So I went home to bed, feeling like I’d had enough adventure for one night.

To be continued