When Sean’s body was taken from the beach to the hospital by truck, these women followed on foot. They were with me the moment Sean was officially declared dead. When the receptionist immediately requested payment, the women demanded I be allowed time alone with his body. When the hospital staff gave me a document written in Thai and told me to sign, I automatically picked up a pen, but the women held my hand and insisted the document be translated first. The cause of death had been listed as drunk drowning. I learned later from a scientist who specialized in box jellyfish that deaths from jellyfish are sometimes covered up[6] to avoid hurting the tourism industry.
These women went with me to the temple where Sean’s body, wrapped in sheets, was taken. A large group of locals gathered around the truck, opening the sheets and pointing excitedly at the welts[7] on his legs. The Israeli women yelled at them to show respect and stood guard over Sean as we waited three hours for someone to find a key. The women were 21 years old at the time and complete strangers to me. They had been with me through some of the most intimate and terrible moments of my life, and at that point I still didn’t even know their names.
We got back to our cabanas[8] around 3 a.m., and I had to be at the police station at 8 a.m. Again, the Israeli women insisted on accompanying me. They would stand outside if I wanted, but they were coming. My initial reaction was relief that I wouldn’t have to face the police alone. Still, I decided that if I didn’t see them in the morning, I wouldn’t wake them. When I walked into the hotel lobby in the morning, they were already there waiting for me.
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