Next Negotiations
Some sailors had families, and most of the time, they regretted being in the Navy, so far from loved ones.
The military didn't feel like an appropriate place for being a caring father and husband.
The distance was so palpable for everyone already.
Jacques found the negotiations with the French succinct, conversational, and broken up with French wine and cuisine, not Thai or Burmese, which Jacques hasn't tried yet, not knowing if he might be spared the time to dine on such foods. His posting may alternate, shift, and send him somewhere that requires him to do translation work, not something he feels very keen about, preferring life at sea, but it does pay better than being a sailor. He did struggle at points during the translation, done in dusty, stone rooms, with humidity dense enough to succumb to sweatiness and sluggishness. He must've been uneasy with the climate, unable to fully concentrate because of the humidity, plus the words used seemed too formal for his diction at times, unfamiliar, so he generalized. The diplomat didn't seem annoyed or irritated by Jacques, if anything, he remained in good spirits. They played the piano, sang songs, drank wine, and went their own ways.
But Jacques woke up the following day, greeted in French by a Thai person, unaware he was not with the French but the British and brought to breakfast with the diplomat. Dining together, overlooking a gorgeous view from the palace, things have gone well, things fairly interesting and uninteresting, such as trade, economics, commerce, spheres of influence, and resource production. Something about the markets and revenue gained from trade between the colonies, though Siam would remain sandwiched between these European giants. Jacques could imagine worse fates, being carved apart and dissected like some operated frog. The French, sitting at another table, reading the newspaper and smoking tobacco, seemed attentive to issues in France, which Jacques managed to read poorly from a distance. Something about renovations in Paris and railways connecting the country. He turned to the talkative diplomat.
The next negotiations, or the next job, would not be with this diplomat but rather elsewhere, somewhere else that the empire needed him. The diplomat mused it could be Oceania, an exciting place for a young man, or perhaps Africa, the Middle East; anywhere sails could take Jacques, looking at the water jug with soft wonder in his stare. Where else he could go couldn't be determined by the diplomat, yet their business was done here, and the diplomat would remain in Siam for some time. Jacques could stay or leave, his call. His opportunity didn't remain in his hands, Jacques knew that someone higher up the ranks would decide his next posting, even if the diplomat could persuade Jacques to remain. But he won't remain. He told the diplomat his time had ended.
Jacques returned to his boat, traveling towards Burma, and once aboard, he allowed himself to slip into deep thinking, all he could do to pass the time between boat rides, ferrying Jacques back to British command. He sat and should've read something to stimulate his mind, except he might never get to witness such scenery and civilization again, on another navy ship out eastward or westward, halfway around the world, or relocated to a colony. He knew the boatman didn't speak English or French well, just the necessities, so he looked around, seeing how lazy and beautiful Siam was. How Buddhist it felt as well, the temples and monks visible to view from the boat, praying in meditative stances, worshipping Buddha in impressive temples, and chanting prayers inside such places of worship. It was fascinating for Jacques, a spectator to it all.
He reflected on what may come or what preceded him ancestrally. What did his forebears do, or what will his descendants achieve decades afterward, he needed descendants first, generations that followed after him. He seemed put off by the idea, a severed slice in his life of bachelor enjoyment and adventure. Some of the sailors had families, and most of the time, they regretted being in the Navy, so far from loved ones. The military didn't feel like an appropriate place for being a caring father and husband. The distance was so palpable for everyone already. Whether commander or sailor, sorrow sunk into the men's spirits. Jacques understood the drinking, gambling, and antics. He would return to that, being picked on for being French and navigating snide comments.
He sighed. He accepted change, no matter where it would take him. His life was wonder.
