A Million Shades of Gray

by Cynthia Kadohata

  Now that he saw it, the trail was easy to follow. The tracks ended a couple of kilometers away at the river. Y’Tin crossed to the other side, pausing to drink some of the water. But at the other side he could not pick up the trail. Stupid mistake: They had not crossed as he’d thought but had merely walked in the water, probably to hide their footprints. He crossed back to the other side and searched for the trail. Nothing.

  Once more Y’Tin crossed the river, panic returning even stronger than before. He tried to pick up the trail farther down from where he’d looked before. When he still couldn’t find it, he needed to tell himself to stay calm.

  Finally, he searched in the only place he had not: across the river, north of where he’d searched before. And sure enough, he picked up the trail. He’d wasted about two hours searching. He broke into a jog until the tracks grew fresher and fresher. They were simple to follow now. Y’Juen and Tomas had broken a new trail in deep jungle and, eventually, had returned to the river. Y’Tin trotted along the riverbank. His father would be proud of him, the way he was using his panic. Then he heard elephant trumpeting and raced toward the sound. But when he reached a small clearing, he stopped short. Instead of Lady, Geng, and Dok, twelve elephants—eight cows and four calves, including an infant—were feeding under a patch of blue sky. He’d seen a wild herd only a couple of times before. The other two times, he’d climbed a tree and just watched them, soaking in their beauty.

  The twelve elephants stopped eating at the sight of Y’Tin. At first they just stared, and then, agitated, they began moving back and forth on their feet, their ears fanned out. Suddenly, Dok appeared. She walked forward, and the wild elephants grew even more agitated. The biggest one looked like she was going to charge. Y’Tin called out, “Come back! Dok!” She looked at him but did not budge. She would have listened to Y’Siu. In fact, Y’Tin had never seen her not come when called. Then he spotted Lady at the edge of the clearing. She was watching with fascination. He wished he had his hook with him.

  The largest cow snorted into the air. “Dok!” Y’Tin called out again. Dok looked at him, hesitated, and then turned her back to him. The largest cow took a couple of steps forward. Lady also took a couple of steps forward. “Lady!” Y’Tin called crisply. She looked at him, and then she and Dok turned their attention back to the wild elephants. Dok’s ears flared out, as they always did when she was upset.

  A moment later Y’Juen and Tomas appeared. Y’Juen poked at Dok with a hook. “Dok!” Dok slowly turned to him. She looked angry, and for a moment Y’Tin thought she was going to rush Y’Juen. She raised her trunk in the air and trumpeted.

  “Lady!” cried Y’Tin. “Come! Come!” She swayed from foot to foot, and then, to his great relief, she finally stepped away from the elephant herd. Dok also joined Y’Tin and Y’Juen. As they all carefully walked away, Y’Tin looked back toward the large cow. She hadn’t returned to her herd, but a couple of the other elephants were already starting to eat again.

  With the wild elephants out of sight, Lady knocked Y’Tin down with her trunk. He laughed and got up. To his ears, his laugh sounded almost hysterical, so eager was he to be laughing.

  “Did you have trouble finding us?” asked Tomas.

  “It put me off for a few minutes,” Y’Tin lied coolly. He waited to see what Tomas would say next.

  “We saw fresh human tracks close by and decided we should leave. What did you find out about the village?”

  Y’Tin paused. How could he possibly explain what he’d seen? “I saw the hole in the cemetery. It was filled in. I don’t know how many … the hole was big,” Y’Tin said. He couldn’t bear to talk about the people who’d been killed—all he could talk about was the hole. “The hole was bigger than when I saw it the last time. And some of the longhouses are burned to the ground. Most of them. Some of the fence is burned. My home is gone.” He needed to stop for a moment as his voice caught. “Yours was half gone, Tomas.” He hadn’t seen Y’Juen’s house because it was on the far side of the village. “I saw the hole,” Y’Tin said for the second time. “It seemed big enough … it seemed big.” He saw Tomas’s throat move, as if he had gulped.

  “Maybe they took prisoners,” Y’Juen said hopefully.

  “I hope so,” Y’Tin said. That was the best they could wish for, but somehow he knew in his heart that the North Vietnamese had taken no prisoners. Sadness weighted him down, a sadness so heavy he couldn’t stay standing. He lay down on the ground.

  “You didn’t find out anything for a fact!” Y’Juen said. “I already knew as much as you.”

  “We should have gone ourselves,” Tomas said, shaking his head.

  Y’Tin didn’t want to believe what he’d seen either. Tomas and Y’Juen could resist him if they wanted, but that would not change the truth. “I dug into the hole and felt an ear and then filled the hole again. Ai Die would not like me digging up the dead that way.” He stayed on the ground until Lady sniffed at him with her trunk. She wanted a scratch.

  As Y’Tin scratched Lady with her brush, Tomas and Y’Juen set up a spit. They’d caught a crow, a good catch because birds were hard to get. Although you could hear them, you often couldn’t see them because they were hiding in the trees. Tomas used bits of dry grass for kindling and dead branches for the fire, then picked thirty bamboo shoots and arranged them in a circle. That was Y’Juen’s idea.

  Then Tomas began to chant:

  “We have almost nothing

  We beg the spirits

  To show us mercy

  To give us luck hunting

  The spirits are so powerful

  And we are so meek

  We, uh, we hope for meat

  We beg for luck hunting

  For the spirits are so powerful

  And we are so meek.”

  Chapter Nine

  When they had finished eating the crow and some bananas, Y’Tin said, “I was worried we might see an elephant fight.”

  Tomas paused before replying, “I was too. I’ve never seen Lady interested in other elephants before.”

  “Neither have I,” Y’Tin agreed. Lady had never been overly friendly with elephants—she was almost aloof with Geng and Dok.

  “We’re lucky we’ve run into only one herd,” Tomas said “I hope there aren’t any others in the area. We have enough to worry about.” Tomas and Y’Juen glanced at each other and then Tomas added, “We were talking about some things.” Y’Tin waited in silence. Tomas glanced at Y’Juen again and went on. “We were just wondering about your attitude, Y’Tin. We need to try harder to get along.”

  That “we” again. It really bothered Y’Tin. Still, what was the harm if they were a “we” now? After all, he had always forgiven Y’Juen when he ran after the older boys. Y’Juen’s insecurity wasn’t his fault. His heart was good. But his father was always very, very hard on him, and it had weakened him rather than strengthening him.

  Y’Tin thought again of the village boys who had gotten lost in the jungle and had bickered the whole time—how his father had said that was because the jungle changes a man. Y’Tin decided this was why he wasn’t getting along with Y’Juen and Tomas. But that didn’t explain why the two of them had turned on him. And then Y’Juen said, “Yes, Y’Tin, your attitude isn’t helping matters any.”

  Y’Tin’s anger level soared sky-high. His attitude was fine. It was Y’Juen’s and Tomas’s fault that they weren’t all getting along. Y’Tin decided that Y’Juen did not have such a good heart after all.

  “Yes, we think you’ve been acting a bit different than we’re used to,” Tomas said. “We all need to work together now.” Then, out of nowhere, Tomas said to Y’Tin, “We wouldn’t be in this situation if …”

  “If what?”

  “If it weren’t for you.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Y’Tin asked, jumping up.

  “Your father worked for the Special Forces. You even went on a mission once.”

  “Lots of men worked with the Americans,
” Y’Tin retorted. He squeezed his hands into fists as hard as he could—that helped contain his anger.

  “They brought danger. You said half the village is dead. If that’s true, whose fault is it?” Y’Juen said, jumping up himself.

  “The Americans were the only ones who treated us right,” Y’Tin responded.

  “Then where are the Americans now?” Tomas asked.

  The Americans were in America, as they all knew. Since they all knew it, why ask the question? The Americans had broken their promise to help them. Y’Tin knew it. He didn’t know it for a long time. But now he knew it. Tomas and Y’Juen knew it, everyone in the village knew it. So why belabor the point?

  Y’Tin decided that he would call Tomas and Y’Juen “we” now in his mind, as one entity, as in “we doesn’t know where the Americans are.” Let them be “we.” He would embrace their we-ness. He knew his father had done the right thing. His father had spent a long time thinking about it before joining the Americans. His father always spent a lot of time separating right from wrong. His ability to separate right from wrong was one of his main characteristics. He spent half his life thinking about it, just as his mother spent half her life thinking about the spirits. If “we” didn’t know that, that was their problem. Its problem.

  “Let’s face it. Men like your father brought harm to the village,” Y’Juen said. “My father never worked with anyone but his family.”

  “My father spends half his life separating right from wrong,” Y’Tin said angrily. “He would never harm the village.”

  “Obviously, he’s harmed all of us, including you. I have no respect for your father.”

  Y’Tin charged into Y’Juen’s chest, bowling them both over. Y’Juen rolled on top of Y’Tin, pinning him down, but Y’Tin worked an arm free and threw a punch. Y’Juen ducked and Y’Tin’s fist arced past him, hitting the hard ground. Pain shot through his fingers. They wrestled for what seemed like an eternity before Y’Tin put a headlock on Y’Juen. He squeezed hard. He wanted to squeeze Y’Juen’s head off, but the headlock didn’t seem to be having much effect. Then Tomas grabbed Y’Tin by the back of his loincloth and pulled him off. He held Y’Tin’s arms back, and Y’Juen used the opportunity to throw a lazy punch at Y’Tin’s stomach.

  “You’re both too scared to fight by yourselves!” Y’Tin cried out. “The only way you two girls can win is if you gang up on me.”

  Y’Juen’s face grew angrier, and he landed a second punch into Y’Tin’s stomach. Y’Tin gasped for air.

  “All right, all right,” Tomas said. He let go of Y’Tin’s arms and shoved him away. “Let’s stop fighting.” Y’Tin and Y’Juen locked eyes for a moment, and then Y’Juen walked away a few steps to cool off. Y’Tin closed his eyes to cool off himself. We have to work together, he said to himself. We have to work together. Tomas laid a hand on Y’Tin’s shoulder, and Y’Tin tensed up. “Come on, we’re all friends here. We can’t be fighting.”

  Y’Tin couldn’t sleep that night. His face grew hot as he thought of Y’Juen, so he tried to push his “best friend” out of his mind. Y’Tin decided that he couldn’t forgive Y’Juen the way he usually did because Y’Juen had insulted his father. That was unforgivable.

  Usually, the elephants formed a protective circle around Y’Tin, Tomas, and Y’Juen, as if the boys were calves in the wild. But that night Lady noticed Y’Tin awake and wandered over before falling asleep again. When Y’Tin sensed that Tomas and Y’Juen had also fallen asleep, a great relief washed over him. He wished they hadn’t involved his father. Now he didn’t feel he could ever be friends with them again, especially Y’Juen.

  He tried to imagine what his father would do in the same situation. Once, his father had gotten mad at his friend Jake, but he never told anybody why. After that Ama was cordial to Jake, but Y’Tin could tell he never forgave him. He acted like he forgave him, but he really didn’t. But another time Ama had gotten mad at his friend Y’Bier because Y’Bier had criticized Y’Tin’s powerful auntie, who was Ama’s sister. When Y’Bier apologized, Ama forgave him. So Y’Tin decided he might forgive Y’Juen if he apologized. On the other hand, maybe he would just pretend to forgive him. He’d have to wait until Y’Juen apologized before he decided. He thought about all this for a long time, just as his father would have. He thought and thought.

  Lady suddenly issued a huge snorting sound. She used to sleep silently. But as her pregnancy progressed, she had started to snort. Jujubee also snorted when she slept. So no matter where Y’Tin slept, he would hear snorting. That was fate. He smiled to himself as Lady gave another big snort. Then he laughed out loud suddenly, thinking of the time that he’d first built the hutch. He had left some sugarcane inside, and when he got back from school that day, the hutch had been demolished and the sugarcane was gone. The other elephants had been working, which meant that Lady was the culprit. So he had to rebuild the hutch. He laughed almost like a lunatic, so relieved was he to think of a happy moment. All his thoughts about Lady were happy. He had never gotten mad at her.

  Next Y’Tin thought of his mother and father—how hard they worked, how fiercely they loved him, Jujubee, and H’Juaih. He hoped his father was already fighting a guerilla war from the jungle. He believed it to be true. His father had once told him that belief came from the heart, intuition came from your gut, and reasoning came from your head. A “belief” meant what your heart thought was true, even if you had no proof. He believed in his heart that his mother and sisters were alive and that his father was fighting and, hopefully, winning. He figured if every man could kill three enemy soldiers, maybe the Dega would take back control of the Central Highlands. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?

  Y’Tin found the need to sleep overwhelming. Trying to stay up to think more just made him sleepier. A gunshot sounded from far away—Y’Tin had barely heard it. That was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep.

  He dreamed of Jujubee. She was crying alone in the jungle, lost. Then there was a room, the ceiling slanted like in a longhouse, except it wasn’t a longhouse. Then Y’Tin was in the room, counting bullets. He opened his eyes. It was dawn.

  “You were talking in your sleep. Counting,” Tomas said.

  “I dreamed my sister Jujubee was crying.”

  Tomas rubbed his forehead for a moment. Then, “I’m worried about my family too. But my job now is to keep us and the elephants alive. I have a lot to think about, so you need to follow orders and not fight with Y’Juen. I thought you two were friends.”

  “We are. We were.”

  “Well, whether you’re friends or not, you both need to follow orders.”

  Y’Tin paused before reluctantly saying, “All right.” For now he would pretend to forgive Y’Juen. Later he would decide for sure what he would do. Y’Tin continued, “I was thinking. If we each kill three enemy soldiers, and every other Dega kills three enemy soldiers apiece, maybe we can win this war.”

  “We’re not going to kill three enemy soldiers, Y’Tin. We don’t even have guns.”

  “I’m a good shot with my crossbow. Maybe I can kill five, and you and Y’Juen can kill only two apiece.”

  Y’Tin had thought about killing a man before. After all, he had nearly killed a man when he went on that mission with Shepard. Everybody had thought about killing. This was, after all, a war. He was not afraid to kill a man. He was afraid only of a man killing him. His father had taught him that if you wanted to live in times of war, you should not fear killing a man, a woman, or even a child.

  That day the boys started a systematic search for the rest of their village folk. The search was in the shape of a fan instead of a circle. Y’Tin knew that if Tomas were a good tracker, he would want to make a circular search. He thought about mentioning this to Tomas but couldn’t decide what to do. Actually, he had gone hunting with Tomas a few times and thought he was a pretty incompetent tracker. It had never mattered before, but now it did. Finally, about halfway through the day, Y’Tin announced, “We s
hould really be making a circular search.”

  Tomas acted like he hadn’t heard Y’Tin, although he was looking right at him. Tomas was clearly annoyed. Y’Juen said, “You’re not in charge. Tomas is.”

  They were both incompetent trackers as far as Y’Tin was concerned. If they could read his mind, they would not like what they found. Y’Tin hated holding his tongue. He did not like worrying about everything he said to them.

  They found many human tracks, but no fresh ones—the edges of the footprints were usually caved in rather than crisp and new. Also, there were only ten, twenty tracks in every trail they came across. So they couldn’t have found their fellow villagers.

  Every day they searched for fresher tracks, and every day they failed. Every day in their trek was different. Once, Y’Tin had seen some Special Forces soldiers playing chess. He hadn’t understood why, with the same pieces in the same positions and with the same players, each game was so different. But now he understood. As they struggled to live in the jungle, every day was the same yet very different.

  Then one day they found a huge number of footprints! At a glance it looked like two or three hundred people may have been making prints. Y’Tin’s heart beat harder at the sight. He fell to the ground to examine the prints: They looked like they’d been made within the last week. “About a week old!” he exclaimed.

  Y’Juen and Tomas slapped each other’s shoulders. “It was a good thing we didn’t listen to you!” Tomas said to Y’Tin. “It would have taken a lot longer to find this trail.”