Home in a Hong

Petie paddled our kayak toward the mouth of the cave. He wore a pink shirt with the collar flipped up. The smell had enveloped us before the darkness had.
“This Bat Cave,” Petie said from behind me. “Stinky.”
When I was a kid, my little sister had pet mice. The cave smelled like her mouse-cage had when she was lazy about cleaning it – of stale urine and feces. It was a rancid smell.
“Look this,” Petie said. I turned, but there was nothing there. He dragged his paddle through the water and the black burst with blue sparks. “Bioluminescent,” he said. I could hear that he was smiling. “Fireworks in water.”
I ran my hand through the water, tried to stir the algae. All around my hand the water erupted in the kind of butane blue I remembered from my high school chemistry class. I had forgotten about the smell.
Just before the cave opened back up into the center of the island, Petie had me lay back as far as the kayak would allow. Stalactites came within inches of my face. And then we were in the lagoon.
“Lucky it is low tide,” Petie said. The rock walls of the island rose vertically on all sides, covered in lush green jungle. The cave was the only access to the gorgeous lagoon in this hong.
“Monkey,” Petie said, pointing to a tree hanging low over the water of the lagoon. Then: “Now we talk,” he said. “Where you from.”
As our kayak drifted towards a mangrove tree with one of the most spectacular root systems I had ever seen, I told him I was from America, Los Angeles, I said.
“Oh, LA,” he said. “Hollywood. You know movie stars?”
I smiled and shook my head.
He shrugged. “LA is my favorite place to go if I leave Thailand.”
“Oh,” I said, “you’ve been?”
Petie shook his head. His ponytail shook behind his dark face. “Most want to visit,” he said. “You seen the stars?” He pointed to the ground. “Or the sign?” He pointed to the air. “Or Beverly Hills, Venice Beach, The carnival on the pier?”
I shook my head. I had been to the Santa Monica Pier once, but had never seen the rest of it.
Petie looked confused. “No?”
I shook my head again, a little embarrassed.
He shrugged. “Americans,” he said after a long pause. “Imagine Petie no see Hongs.” Then he laughed, a deep and honest laugh. Our kayak shook. I’d have to go sight seeing when I got home.