“This name she had received in a legitimate manner, for, indeed, she spared nothing to make herself amiable to the nth degree. Although, of course, through the amiability there would dart-oh! a sudden flash of the female character! And although sometimes out of every pleasant word of hers there would stick!-oh! such a pin. And God protect us from what was seething in her heart against any woman who somehow and in some way insinuated herself into the front ranks! But all that was cloaked in the most refined manners that could possibly be found in a provincial capital. Every movement she made was in good taste, she even liked poetry, she even sometimes knew how to hold her head in a dreamy manner, and all agreed that she was indeed a Lady Pleasant in All Respects.”
The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: ON MY WAY TO BE AN “INFLUENCER”? SAYONORA VIETNAMESE GENTLEMEN
My winning the fixed Singapore Westie of the Year contest was an attempt to make me “a prized commodity” as Bobby Jr. put it. Why I didn’t know.
That spiny black toad incident that nearly sent me to The Land Beyond became a media event in Cambodia. The story was carried on National Television of Cambodia (TVK) and in Toronto on the “ethnic network” known as OMNI on some Cambodian news programme.
Additionally, all networks in Singapore covered the story, as after all, “Cuddlecakes” was a (fabricated) Singaporean West Highland Terrier.
At our last evening at Sofitel Angkor Phokeethra Golf and Spa Resort the hotel’s manager arranged a farewell poolside dinner with an “important guest” the deputy chair of Cambodian Tourist Board (CTB) who offered me a key role in promoting tourism to Siem Reap, specifically Angkor Wat. Bobby Jr., beginning to look very pained, thanked the deputy chair and said some time was required to consider the offer.
The hotel manager proposed naming our suite “Cuddlecake Suite” and that a new house champagne at “Explorer’s Tales”, the hotel’s champagne bar, would have its label feature my picture! Again, Bobby Jr. requested some time to consider the offer.
The manager had brought in a local Khmer dance troupe to entertain us as a post meal treat. What a colourful performance but after its conclusion the cause of Bobby Jr.’s pained face was revealed. Prior to our dinner his mother Madame Fong phoned him to tell him the two Vietnamese Gentleman had been murdered in Haiphong. Someone was on a murder spree and we had just met with all four of the victims!
“The waists were pulled tight, with contours that were very firm, and pleasing to the eye (it must be noted that in general, all the ladies that lived in the town that will remain nameless were rather plump, but laced themselves so artfully and had such pleasant manners that their stoutness escaped all notice). Everything about them had been planned and premeditated with uncommon foresight; their necks and shoulders were exposed precisely as much as was necessary and no more; each lady bared her possessions to the point where she felt, according to her own lights, that they were capable of leading a man to ruin. All the rest was held in reserve with exquisite taste……
“The fiery youth of today would recoil in horror if you were to show him a portrait of himself in old age, So take with you on your journey, as you emerge from the tender years of youth into harsh, coarsening manhood, take with you all the human impulses, do not leave them along the way, you will not be able to pick them up later! Dreadful and fearsome is the old age which will come, for it gives nothing back, nothing in return. On the grave will be written: ‘Here lies a man!’ but you will read nothing in the cold, unfeeling features of inhuman old age.”
“Far more noteworthy was his attire. By no means or efforts could one ascertain what his dressing gown had been concocted from: the sleeves and upper parts had become so dirty and shiny that they resembled the black-tarred leather used for boots; dangling from the back were four flaps instead of two, with cotton stuffing leaking out of them. Wound round his neck was something, whether a stocking, or a garter, or a stomacher could not be made out; but certainly, it was not a cravat. In a word, had Chichikov encountered him so attached by the doors of a church, he probably would have given him a copper coin.”
“At this our hero could not help but step back and stare at him intently. He happened to have seen many people of every kind, even such as the reader and I will perhaps never have occasion to see: but he had never yet set eyes on anyone like this one. The face was nothing special; it was almost the same as that of many gaunt old men, except that the chin jutted out so far that he had to cover it with a handkerchief to keep from slobbering it whenever he spat. His tiny little eyes had not yet dimmed, and they darted about from under his high bushy eyebrows like mice, when thrusting their sharp little snouts from their dark holes, pricking up their ears and twitching their whiskers out to see whether a cat or mischievous boy was lurking in wait somewhere, and give the air a suspicious sniff,”
“Strongly indeed do Russian people express themselves! And if they bestow a particular epithet on someone, it will become part of his lineage and posterity, he will drag it around him into his place of work, and into his retirement, and to Petersburg, and to the ends of the earth. And however cunningly he may later contrive to ennoble his nickname, however he may compel the fraternity of scribblers, for monetary recompense, to derive it from an ancient princely family, nothing will avail; of its own the nickname will croak forth at the top of its crow’s voice and clearly proclaim the nest from which the bird has flown.”
‘I really can’t stand such namby-pambies!’ and he added, aloud: ‘Well, the devil with you, go play house with your wife, you girlie-man!’
‘No brother, don’t you go calling me a girlie-man!’ replied the brother-in-law, ‘I owe her my life. She’s really so good, so kind, she’s so nice to me. It brings tears to my eyes. She’ll ask what I saw at the fair, and I have to tell her everything, she’s really so kind.’
‘Well then go feed her some cock-and-bull story. Here’s your cap…..’
‘No brother, you really shouldn’t talk about her that way; you’re offending me too, so to speak, she’s so nice.”
‘Well then, clear out and get home to her as quick as you can.’
The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: THE MURDER OF HONEY AND BARRY SHERMAN: PRIME SUSPECTS THE TWO “VIETNAMESE GENTLEMEN”
During my recuperation period from the near fatal spiny black toad incident Bobby Jr., Amira and I were lounging at the hotel pool when Bobby Jr. received a call from Madame Fong, his dear mother. Mouth agape and eyes as wide as saucers he blurted out. “The Sherman’s bodies were found this morning in their Bridle Path mansion in Toronto. The official word from Toronto Police Services stated their bodies were found but the cause of death was undisclosed.”
Bobby was telling Amira, Barry Sherman had many enemies as many billionaires do. Being a successful pharmaceutical manufacturer propelled him to vast sums of cash which philanthropist wife Honey distributed to this and that charity. What Bobby Jr. failed to disclose to Amira were the violent tirades the two “Vietnamese gentlemen” let fly during our private river cruise in Bangkok days earlier. Barry Sherman was not in their good books and what I recall hearing they wanted revenge for being swindled. Something to do with a Haiphong, Vietnam manufacturing facility.
Seems I have much more to deal with than my abduction.
The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: I WAS ALMOST A CAMBODIAN FATALITY: SAVED BY A VIKING CRUISE PERSON!
All of us were up at the crack of dawn, prior to the availability of breakfast. When you are playing golf in Cambodia you better secure an early tee-off time as by noon any serious physical activity becomes shall we say “problematic”.
A shuttle picked the three of us up. A packed breakfast awaited us at the clubhouse. All caddies are female and they carry your clubs while golfers enjoy a golf cart. I sat in between Amira and Bobby Jr. We teed off at 06:30 as the heat and humidity crept in.
Of course, I could not expect this may be the last day of my life.
It happened like this; on the third hole Amira’s approach shot skittered off the fairway and being the helpful puppy I am I decided to bird dog the ball in the rough. I did not hear the caddies shouting at me, “No dog. No go there!”
The ball landed right beside a black spined toad. Being a vermin hunter and a curious puppy I snouted that toad a few times and the next I remember was lying flat out on the ground gasping for breath with my heart going pitter patter, stopping then starting again.
I heard the caddy making a distress call to the clubhouse. I veered in and out of consciousness and was that a bright light leading me to The Land Beyond to meet Dylan the Westie?
Who do I see leaning over me giving me a needle that woke me up. I was flying but breathing and mostly conscious. It was one of the Viking Cruise people with a big gut!
I must have passed out again as the next time I opened my eyes I was in an animal hospital with a drip line attached to one of my front paws.
That black spined toad was no nuisance toad. You threaten this toad and it secretes a poisonous mucus and if it enters your body it starts messing with your heart and if you don’t receive the antidote in short order you are a goner.
It so happened the Viking people at our resort were veterinarians holding a conference aboard their Viking ship on an optional three-day excursion to Siem Reap and were staying at our hotel Sofitel Angkor Phokeethra Golf and Spa Resort. Fortunately for me Dr. Abigail Animaux had her emergency bag with her at the resort not with the antidote but adrenalin which started my heart again. As she later said she had brought the medical bag because the rabies epidemic in Cambodia. I was transported to Siem Reap Vet and the medical team there administered the antidote saving my life.
I would have dearly liked to jump up and give Abigail a kiss but I was under observation for 48 hours and the Viking people had since returned to their ship. Gosh I will miss them.
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