Tuk Kae: Mr Sato's Secret

By Elliott Trevor

Tuk Kae Stories–(Because she loved climbing and had a fierce temper, everyone called her Tuk Kae after the small Thai gecko). Who would have thought this scruffy daughter of a local rubber farmer would blossom into a sophisticated, resourceful and deadly young woman?

In a change in genre, the Author is working on a series of action/thriller novels featuring a Thai girl nicknamed Tuk Kae who unexpectedly befriends an elderly Japanese professor who teaches her about Bushido and martial arts.

‘Mr Sato’s Secret’ tells how Tuk Kae meets retired physics professor Sato in Chumphon, Thailand and grows to love this wonderfully generous old man. When he dies, she inherits everything including a request to make sure his last scientific discovery is used for public good. Thrown into a world of intrigue and violence Tuk Kae strives to honour Sato’s last request and lays the foundation for future adventures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elliott Trevor
• Release date: Aug 7, 2020

Elliott Trevor

Trevor Elliott publishes novels under the pen name Elliott Trevor.Before retiring in 2011, Trevor had worked as a marketing and publicity consultant specialising in the high-tech sector, explaining the ‘difficult to explain’ bridging the gap between business and technologies such as laser and plasma profiling, photochemical machining and computer output microfilm. In the later years of his career, he focused on how companies could embrace sustainable manufacturing and responsible material sourcing.When he retired, he and his wife Moyra fulfilled a long-term ambition to travel around the Far East. Most of Crossover, his first full-length novel, was written in Thailand.The Silex TrilogyAl three novels in the Silex Trilogy are now published on all major E book sites including Smashwords..

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COPYRIGHT

This novel (or any part of it) is the copyright of the author and may not reproduced or distributed without permission.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I would like to thank my Thai friends for their advice on local administrative structures and the correct names for various products and places, etc.

TUK KAE

Mr Sato’s secret

CHAPTER 1

Tuk Kae was a young Thai woman standing only 1.6 metres tall, with long dark hair stretching down to her waist. Her loose pyjamas hid her slim, muscular frame honed by years of arduous exercise and training. Right now, she was walking silently down the corridor leading from her bedroom to the lounge of her single-story home. Awoken by an unusual sound that told her there was someone in the house, she slipped out of bed collecting her trusty ‘jo’, the shorter version of the Japanese ‘bo’ staff, which lay under her bed and walked towards the lounge, pausing until her eyes adjusted to the low light and her senses assessed and confirmed two intruders. Then she moved to confront them.

Tuk Kae, was born Jarintip Mookjai, in a small village on the outskirts of Chumphon Town on Thailand’s east coast, the only daughter of a poor family who eked out a living from rubber tapping. The nickname Tuk Kae, the Thai word for the larger of the two common geckos, the one with teeth and a serious bite, reflected her talent for climbing and her feisty attitude when larger playmates attempted to bully her. With only a basic education, she ached to learn more but her parents could not afford to send a girl to senior school. She shared her mother’s love of cooking and gathered fruit from the wild to make ‘pol lamai hang’ -Thai dried fruit, which she sold to the few Farang (Foreigner) living in the area who frequented the local coffee shops. This provided an opportunity to listen and learn a little English and soon she was holding rudimentary conversations with her would-be customers and even negotiated a few regular orders. Wary of the intentions of some of these Farang she always made certain to conduct her business at the coffee shop and never to visit them in their homes.

One day whilst looking for wild fruit, she noticed there was a mango tree full of fruit growing in the garden of an old Asian man, who after a little investigation, she discovered was a retired Japanese doctor in his late sixties. He did not seem to be interested in picking the fruit and she could make good use of it, so early one morning, armed with a bamboo pole with a sharp curved knife wedged into its end, she climbed the garden wall and set about harvesting the mangos.

Tuk Kae prided herself on her sharp hearing and awareness of what was going on around her- a skill that had kept her safe throughout her fourteen years of life. The teenager was therefore amazed when a voice in broken English asked, If you wanted mangos all you needed to do was asked, otherwise I might think you were a thief. The voice came from directly behind her and she spun around thrusting the mango hook forward like a weapon. She was surprised that the little old Japanese man, with his shuffling walk, had crept up behind her without her hearing him. Panicked by his appearance and aware she was guilty of stealing the man’s fruit, she brandished her makeshift weapon trying to appear as threatening as possible. The man seemed totally unfazed and showed no signs of concern that a sharp blade was only inches from his face. In fact, he gave a little smile and said to Tuk Kae, Put down the stick before someone gets hurt and I’ll get you a bag for those mangos. Tuk Kae’s limited English and the Japanese man’s strange accent did not make for clear communications, so she thrust the pole at him in the hope he would step back and give her room to run. Instead, in a blur of motion he disarmed Tuk Kae and threw the pole over her head to clatter against the garden wall. She stood rooted to the spot with her mouth open in shock. The old man paused thoughtfully and with his face revealing the effort involved in speaking in English, repeated his offer to fetch a bag for the mango adding, It is too hot to stand outside, let’s sit on the veranda and drink some cool lemon. He turned his back on her and began walking towards his house. Then stopped, looked over his shoulder and beckoned her to follow. Tuk Kae regained her senses and resisted the urge to run. Something about this old man suggested honest friendliness, so she followed him to the veranda.

That was ten years ago. Their friendship had grown over the period. He told her his name was Mr Sato a widower who started travelling overseas after his wife’s death. He had stumbled across Chumphon and decided it was a good place to settle and perhaps die. Their conversation, at first fragmented and aided by his little pocket translation device, grew as they both mastered English, with the help of a local retired teacher, who would come each Wednesday afternoon. Tuk Kae would tidy his house and prepare an evening meal after the lesson and Sato would let her use his computer, showing her how to read world news, and improve her general knowledge. Tuk Kae’s parents, at first suspicious of the foreigner’s intentions, became more at ease when Tuk Kae brought home money in payment for her cleaning. They probably assumed she slept with the old man and seemed surprised when they found her at home the next morning.

Tuk Kae spent more and more time with Mr Sato and eventually admitted she was getting into trouble for not helping in the rubber plantation. He looked concerned then suggested she should bring her father and mother to tea, so they might see there were no ulterior motives behind their friendship. With much suspicion but also curiosity, her parents accompanied their daughter on her next visit and with Tuk Kae acting as translator they introduced themselves. The visit went much better than Tuk Kae expected and her parents seemed to lose their suspicion and even warm to the elderly doctor. After that, there were no further complaints from her parents.

One day when Tuk Kae and Sato were alone, she asked him how he had managed to creep up on her that first day. He smiled and explained it was a skill that could be learnt and he had been a student of Bushido all his life. Tuk Kae had no idea what Bushido was but Googled it when she next used Sato’s computer and was astonished to learn Bushido and Budo were terms used to describe the ancient Japanese martial arts codes. Having seen the odd martial arts film when the mobile cinema came to town she was intrigued but struggled to picture Mr Sato as a samurai. She eventually plucked up courage to ask him about Bushido and pestered him to show her some moves. Each time she broached the subject he would look stern and become evasive and never answered her directly. Eventually, she asked the English teacher to ask Mr Sato why he never answered her request to know more about Bushido.

Question asked and no reply forthcoming; the English teacher shrugged her shoulders and departed leaving an uneasy silence between the old man and girl. Concerned she had gone too far Tuk Kae began to apologise but Mr Sato held up his hand to silence her then paused as though thinking deeply about the question and then turned to Tuk Kae and said to her astonishment in almost perfect Thai, The way of Budo is not like the martial arts films you see. It is not about hurting people and rushing around like an assassin. It is about control of your mind and your body and a discipline for life. If you are truly interested in learning, I will teach you a little but the training will be hard and the discipline strict. You might not like me as your teacher. Tuk Kae struggled to contain her excitement and started babbling in Thai, then stopped and in very good English, she thanked Mr Sato promising to be a good student and work very hard.

Then adding, No matter how hard the training or how strict you are, I will always love you for your kindness to me and I will be honoured to be your student and work very hard. Then overwhelmed with emotion she rushed out of the room and ran home. It was a week later when she returned for the next English lesson and entered Sato’s house worried she had said too much during her last visit. Sato greeted her with a warm smile and a glass of cold lemon and said. Tomorrow we will start your training.

Ten years later and under his strict teaching she had become proficient in kenjitsu, bojitsu and Kyokushin karate and had mastered English and a little Japanese. Tuk Kae had come a long way from her impoverished roots. Her parents were dead and the small family rubber plantation had passed to her eldest brother, who was married with four children. Three years ago, she decided the family home was too crowded and moved in with Mr Sato to keep house and continue her training.

Now a beautiful young woman, she worked part time as a receptionist in a local hotel and looked after Mr Sato who became increasingly frail as the years went by.

Sato died on Songkran, Thai New Year’s Day, and Tuk Kae was heartbroken and inconsolable. She felt alone and the foundation of her being had crumbled. Mr Sato had made all the arrangements for his funeral and left instruction with a local solicitor who contacted Tuk Kae after the ceremony and explained she was the only beneficiary in Mr Sato’s will and he had left her a sizeable sum of money and his house. He also left a long letter in which he thanked her for her friendship that had meant so much to him after his wife’s death. He then wrote something Tuk Kae did not understand and puzzled her to this day. He wrote, ‘I have left two further letters which will be revealed to you at the appropriate time. One will come via a hand you already know and will reveal the location of the last and most important message, which I truly hope will not prove too much of a burden for you.’

He finished by telling her she had been an excellent student and she must call upon the strengths he had taught her and to make her way in the world. His last request, was to live happily and do good, perhaps she too might find someone to mentor and pass on her life skills.

In response to his comments and in his memory, Tuk Kae started a little business called ‘Sato Fruit’ in which she employed five local teenagers to collect and dry fruit, just as she had as a child.

CHAPTER 2

Now, she was standing in a dark corridor, only metres from the lounge door, ready to confront the two intruders in her home, Mr Sato’s home. She edged silently towards the door until she could see two figures dressed in black searching through Mr Sato’s old bureau and cupboards. She stepped into the room and turned on the light. The two figures froze for a second before turning towards her both pulling knives from their belts. The nearest intruder advanced towards her saying in Thai, Better do as we say or you’ll get hurt. Where is the old man? When he got within two metres of Tuk Kae, she stepped forward and swung her jo in a downward motion smashing the intruder’s collarbone and rendering his knife arm useless. She continued in one fluid motion bringing the staff back up between his legs and into his groin. He let out a pained groan and sunk to the ground.

Immediately the other intruder rushed at her screaming, Bitch you’ll die for that. Tuk Kae remained motionless until he came into range and then drove the jo straight at his solar plexus and was rewarded with a sickening gasp for breath. She followed with a side kick into the intruder’s knee, which by the agonising scream that resulted, probably dislocated the knee cap and he too fell to the ground. Although both intruders were in some pain, they struggled to regain their footing and Tuk Kae told them both to drop their weapons but received only expletives and further threats. Without hesitation, she drove her foot onto the first attacker’s fist which geld the knife. With his other arm out of commission, this was his only means of support. The fingers crunched and broke and she kicked the knife away under the couch, knowing that any further threat from him was eliminated. The second guy began hauling himself upright by clinging onto to furniture. The pain from his knees must have been terrible, and he was cursing and swearing and promising to rape Tuk Kae before cutting her into little pieces. It was a simple matter to strike him under his nose with the heel of her hand and send him back to the floor spitting teeth and blood.

Tuk Kae thought for a second how Mr Sato had always recommended that strike as being ideal for a woman with small, delicate hand, that could be easily damage if used as a fist. He was correct. She had felt the impact jolt right down her straight arm ensuring almost a metre of solid bone delivered the impact at lightning speed. The recipient would almost certainly have a broken upper jaw and need extensive surgery. She stomped on the second guy’s knife hand observing a satisfying crunching sound as fingers dislocated and broke, allowing her to kick away the knife.

With her assailants subdued she placed her foot on the dislocated knee of the guy she had struck and asked him who he was and what was he and his accomplish doing in her house. After increasing the pressure on his knee, he surprisingly answered that it was the Japanese Farang’s house not hers and they were searching for something their employer said was here. Obviously, they were not local men and had not heard about Mr Sato’s death almost a year ago, which suggested that they were sent by someone located elsewhere who was also unaware of Sato’s death. She applied a little more pressure to the knee and asked who had sent them. The guy screamed in pain and looked like he might answer when his accomplish shouted to shut up or he would get them killed. Tuk Kae responded, What makes you think that I won’t kill you if you don’t tell me? They both mumbled something indecipherable and lay still awaiting the inevitable execution. Tuk Kae thought, whoever sent these two, has the power to terrify those who work for him or her and realised she was unlikely to get any more out of them. She walked back to her bedroom and called the police.

An hour later, she had given a statement and the two guys were in custody. She returned home having been told that the local detective inspector would call on her tomorrow with further questions. At home, she tidied the room and was saddened to see two small pots were broken and the leg of Mr Sato bureau loose, having taken the impact of the man whose knee cap she had dislocated. She would repair the items as they were precious mementos of her beloved teacher. Suddenly, she felt very tired and drained from the emotional impact, rather than her physical effort of tackling the intruders, and flopped on her bed. A single tear slipped from her eye in memory of her lost friend and she fell asleep.

Next day she woke late and was still in her dressing gown when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to see an old school friend Somchai Rattanakosin, who she knew by his nickname, Poo. At almost 1.9 metres, he was unusually tall for a Thai and had the type of fresh good looks that seem to shrug off age like water off an umbrella. He was equally surprised to see her and introduced himself formally as Detective Captain Rattanakosin. She laughed and said, Oh come on Poo, I can’t call you Khun Rattanankosin after all these years. You have always been Poo to me and just because you have swapped your shorts for long trousers, you are still Poo. He broke into a huge smile and hugged her warmly saying, Sorry Tuk Kae, I was not sure if you would remember me and now that you are a beautiful young woman might not welcome my using your nickname. That’s OK, she replied, I still climb a lot!

She invited Poo inside apologising for not being dressed and offered him coffee which he readily accepted. They talked through the kitchen door as Tuk Kae set up the coffee percolator. Poo told her he had recently returned from Bangkok to take up his new role as a detective at the Chumphon Police Headquarters and that this would be his first case. She in turn explained she had inherited the house from an old Japanese friend, Mr Sato. There was a brief silence, in which Tuk Kae suspected Poo was considering whether to probe further about the relationship. Tuk Kae anticipated the question and explained in a little more detail how she met Mr Sato and became his friend and housekeeper and no more. She asked if Poo wanted hot or iced coffee to which he replied that during his time in Bangkok he had acquired the Farang habit of drinking his coffee hot. With the initial awkwardness now over Tuk Kae returned to the lounge and served them both coffee accompanied by some pol lamai hang, dried fruits, which she remembered he loved.

Again, he smiled observing, "Oh I see some things have not changed. You still make pol