A leap of three meters explores the depth of slum living

It wasn't a big jump off Three Soldiers Bridge, maybe three meters, but no matter. She couldn't swim. When you can't swim, any jump into a canal is dangerous.

Miss Geng was 15 years old and running from a policeman, sprinting as if to save herself. Her moonshine- and speed-addled mum had just stuffed drugs inside Miss Geng's blouse, enough that any slum kid — swimmer or non-swimmer — would jump into the canal rather than risk prison.

Her head bobbed to the surface long enough for her to spy a way out. A dog had jumped into the canal for food or a ball or maybe just to cool off. Miss Geng grabbed the dog's tail like it was rope thrown from the shore. Slum dogs don't like people pulling on their tails even when they have four paws on solid ground, less so when they are paddling in a murky canal. The dog bit down hard on Miss Geng's hand, hard enough that she let go and began flailing and screaming. Blood soon colored the water around her.

With no rope and no tail, Miss Geng was about to "go down for the third time," as the expression goes. Three knockdowns and the fight's over. Three strikes and you're out. Three isn't good.

But let's back up. How does a teenage girl at the top of her high school class end up with her mum and a handful of drugs on the Slaughterhouse's Three Soldiers Bridge? Miss Geng had just come home from her government boarding school for its annual four-week school vacation. But for her, and for many kids like her, "vacation" only means it's time to close the books and get your hands dirty.

Miss Geng and her mum were on the bridge waiting to join a Klong Toey boat cleaning crew. A pickup truck was scheduled to meet them on Three Soldiers Bridge and cart them two hours away to a wharf. Once there they would partake in the low-wage work of riffraff labor. They would swab deck, chip away at rust, that sort of thing. This mindless work allowed Mum to buy more booze and drugs in order to remain mindless. This job would require Mum and Miss Geng to work and sleep on a tramp cargo ship, living offshore a week at a time.

Miss Geng did not want to go. Mercy Centre had placed her in an excellent government school in a remote province. We did this in part to protect her from this very sort of thing and this very person. Her mum drinks moonshine the way athletes drink water, and Mum's bad habits and addictions circulate in her gene pool. Miss Geng's older sister, who also cleans ships for drug money, was in prison just last year. We helped get her released, but that was maybe a mistake. Out of jail and drunk on drugs, she stabbed her brother, who had been playfully hitting her infant son. Jabbed a fish-cleaning knife twice into his chest. Left it there for someone else to remove.

The brother lived, but you get the idea. It's just best if Miss Geng goes away to a boarding school, somewhere far away and, when she is home in Bangkok, it's best if she stays with us at the Mercy Centre. We don't want to risk her turning out like the older sister, a girl we nicknamed "Bright Eyes." Bright not because of any sparks of joy or intellectual curiosity; rather, bright because her eyes emit a constant glow of drugs. She is perpetually high. We watch after Bright Eyes' two children, keep them fed, clothed and in kindergarten. Moonshine Mum had wanted the children for herself, but the neighbors suspected she only wanted to sell them. We were never for-sure sure about that, but we refused to give her the children. They remain with us.

So, let's tally it up. Mum, in her 50s, is sodden with moonshine and cleans cargo ships for booze and drug money. Miss Bright Eyes is fresh out of prison, strung out on drugs and we take care of her two children. And then there is our wonderful Miss Geng, who has miraculously escaped the gene-pool curse to land at the top of her boarding school class. It is no coincidence she lives most of the time at a safe distance from Moonshine Mum.

But when home on vacation, Mum is close. Too close for comfort. Miss Geng resides with us at Mercy Centre, but if Mum needs help or a favor, she will come looking for her youngest daughter. Miss Geng refused at first, said she didn't want to go work on a boat. Mum insisted. What's a daughter to do?

So, that's how a teenage girl at the top of her class ended up with a handful of drugs on the Three Soldiers Bridge. Slum living is complicated. Moonshine Mum was inebriated and, as Miss Geng later told us, her plan was to turn and run all the way back to the Mercy Centre as soon as Mum climbed into the pickup truck. But as the truck approached, so did a police officer. Mum was fall-down drunk and as the officer walked up, she panicked. That's when she stuffed a handful of drugs into her youngest daughter's blouse, causing Miss Geng to panic too. Mum fell down. Daughter ran. Then splash.

When Miss Geng jumped from the bridge the drugs fell from her blouse into the canal, never to be found. Then, before she went under for that fateful third time, she saw her own blood from the dog bite. It colored the water around her. That triggered a rush of adrenaline. She screamed and began flailing to stay afloat.

The police officer went into the canal to save her. Not to arrest her. Miss Geng is innocent in all of this. She hates drugs and booze as much as any child who has seen a drug- and booze-addled parent waste away. The police took Mum to the station and Miss Geng to the Mercy Centre, where she is safe and where she belongs.

Now, the dog bite has healed and the vacation concluded. This coming Friday Miss Geng will be on the overnight train, headed back to boarding school. She's Captain on the All-Province Girls Tug of War championship team and in the top of her third-year high school class in math and computer science.

We here in Bangkok have promised Miss Geng that we will keep watch over her sister, her sister's children and her mum. At least keep watch as best we can. It's an unrelenting challenge. Moonshine Mum and Miss Bright Eyes still thirst for booze and drugs, and, when those aren't available, they go looking for glue to sniff. You can understand why we want Miss Geng on that overnight train to school.

Meanwhile, the canal dog comes around our Mercy Centre almost every evening, always wanting to be fed. It's as if he thinks he's a hero. So, we promised Miss Geng we would feed him when we see him — in remembrance, really, for how his tail and his bite helped save her life.