The girls were subsequently taken to another room that had three tables and 12 chairs. In one of the corners there was a camera on a tripod that faced a stool covered with a dark gray sheet. There were also several photographer lamps aimed at the empty stool.
The 12 small chairs at the tables implied that there was a place for each child. One of the tables had larger bowls of hot, steaming food. They had not eaten a hot meal for weeks. It smelled divine. The chairs surrounded the other two tables. Each girl took her bowl and with smiles noisily approached the serving table.
A loud crash was heard and they all dropped their bowls and ran to the opposite corner of the room away from the camera and food. A woman came into the room with a large wooden spoon. She glared at each of the girls. They froze in fear. Slowly she walked toward them. She shook her spoon and screamed a primal scream and cursed in an unknown language.
Each girl started to sob. Saying nothing else, woman motioned that they were to pick up their bowls and go to their seats. Because there were no words uttered, they tentatively and cautiously approached their tables. Instead of it being a welcome sight, the food took on a wretched appearance. They waited in fear, afraid of what would happen next. Quietly they sat with their retrieved bowls.
The woman motioned for one girl to stand and approach the serving table. The implied gesture was to reinforce in their minds that they were not wild animals, but quiet domestic creatures requiring food and were not pigs flailing at the trough.
She served each girl. They walked to their seats and looked at the food. It did smell good, but there was no way to eat it except with their hands.
The woman smiled a sinister smile waiting for one of them to start with their hands, but no one moved a muscle. She again screeched; a sound like the devils from hell. She pointed at the corner with the camera and motioned that each one was to go to the stool one by one. Here they were to be photographed from the neck up. Minor primping was done to their matted hair. A washcloth was used to clean their dirty, tear-streaked faces. No one smiled.
After the flash from the camera’s lights, each was handed a wooden spoon and directed to their seat. There they waited for the next girl to finish before they dared eat anything. By that time the food was cold, but it was food. While not like mother used to make, at least it went down and did not revolt and come back up. Some of the girls had already experienced food rebelling in their small bodies. At least this was acceptable fare.
After their “photo shoot” and dinner, they were led to a bathing area and each was bathed with a sponge and rag by one of the other women. They didn’t know she was also checking the healing of sores. The water was ice cold, but it felt so much better to be clean than what they had already experienced. After drying off, they were led to a table where salve and bandages were placed on their sores.
They were then led shivering up to a second story room; their sleeping quarters. Each got on their beds and softly cried themselves to sleep. There was no visiting like they had done before.
The next morning, the light bulb went on before it was light outside. Each was commanded to get dressed. They and their clothing were forced into a van that had no windows. Again they were headed somewhere else. Little did they know that they were traveling on a highway towards the mountains to the east.
The heat was oppressive and several of the girls became carsick. They cried out to please stop and allow them to relieve themselves. The driver slowed to a stop and each of the girls was able to either throw up and/or urinate. Two of them had diarrhea and severe cramping of their abdomen. They were given crude tissue and directed to clean up as best they could.
Back in the windowless van, they were off and the horrors began anew. The van slowed and turned into the jungle a short way. Here they were offered rice and some type of dried black concoction that smelled like seaweed and fish. They were told to eat quickly. Fear of the consequences of disobedience made each girl hurry, forcing the food down. After quickly taking care of personal needs, they were herded back into the van.
It was impossible to sleep due to the condition of the road and the terrible driving. It was so hot and the closeness imposed on the group made it such that no one could relax enough to get any sleep.
After 8 hours, an eternity to the girls, the van veered off the highway to a smaller less traveled bumpy trail that led into the mountains. The van struggled to climb the rutted trail. The labored sound of the engine also threatened to cease with each pothole and washout it crossed. The driver swore, cursing at one unseen obstacle after another. Finally, they stopped the van. The smell of gasoline was strong. Apparently this was a prearranged location to refuel. They had already refueled twice before, but this location had gasoline cans stashed in a small cave above the rutted trail.
It was dark and hot, but the air seemed a good deal crisper and even cleaner. The back doors were opened and the girls were ushered out. They were high in the mountains on a small narrow cut of a trail. There was a wide spot here, probably a turnout to allow other vehicles to pass. No one else was on the road, so it really didn’t matter. They were ordered to handle personal needs, then were fed some dried fruit and rice balls. Additionally, they were told to drink lots of water.
After about a half hour, they were forced back into the van and the ordeal continued. The trail went through a narrow cut in the peaks and then started to descend. The van continued rocking and bouncing, no doubt with a driver trying to hit every hole, log and rock he could. This was what it seemed like, anyway.
What the girls didn’t know was they were now in Cambodia. If they were caught, they would be killed along with their captors. This was where the trafficking mules earned their money. Avoiding all known roadblocks, the men had to be smart enough to know what to do if they were stopped. They did have bribe money, but the men also knew that it mattered little in the present environment. Those that captured them would shoot first and steal what they found.
They would not stop except for gasoline and scheduled calls of nature. This would continue until the next night when they reached the outskirts of Phnom Penh. The heat was oppressive again and each girl whimpered for lack of sleep and food.
Twice they had to leave the road to avoid military or militia troops. Since the capital punishment would be meted out by either, it really didn’t matter. Even if they were being sought, it did not matter. It would be a quick one-sided trial and immediate imposition of execution for all. The Khmer Rouge took no prisoners and the blood lust in these soldier’s hearts left no doubt that they were on an annihilation mission. Hundreds of thousands of Cambodians had already been killed. What would a few more bandits mean? Besides, they were female. The implied punishment included rape as well.
The day dragged on as if the humid heat compelled everything to crawl through sludge. Each of the 12 little bodies in the van added to the heat and the smell. Three quick personal breaks were all they had been allowed.
Drivers changed with every gasoline fill-up. Twice they had seen people for only a quick glimpse. This glimpse no doubt was cause for concern on the part of the drivers. White girls in Cambodia meant only one thing; these girls were foreigners and would be hunted by the soldiers. Fear gripped all. Those who saw them quickly looked away for fear they would be considered complicit in the trafficking.
Late in the afternoon, the smells of a city once again assaulted their noses. Smoke from fires. Smog from vehicles. Sounds began to increase and multiply. Three times the van turned sharply, presumably to avoid soldiers. It then slowed to a halt and the engine was turned off. A few minutes later, it started again and headed back to a more traveled road.
This was a time of dread and horror. Fear hung like a palpable curtain that surrounded them. While not told to be quiet, each girl felt the omnipresent concern of the drivers.
As the blanket of night covered the van, headlights pierced the darkness but rarely met other headlights. They did not know of the dark to dawn curfew. Vehicles on the road were as
sumed to be government or military. Foot traffic was sensed more than seen by the cargo. The girls waited for deliverance from this hellhole of torture. It remained stifling and closed-in. Windows had been rolled up and the bitter smell of cigarettes filled their confined space through the window that adjoined the van’s cab.
About four hours after total darkness, the van again pulled into a blackened garage-like structure. They could hear the walls responding to the vehicle with echoes as if saying, “You are all doomed.” The rear doors were flung open and they were told to get out in broken English. The cooler air of the building flowed around each girl. They shivered as much from fear as the temperature differential. Even though they were in an old warehouse, the air almost smelled sweet compared to the stench inside the van.
A different woman ushered them to an Oriental-style latrine; essentially a slit trench with a small trickle of water running through it. They each relieved themselves. This didn’t take long and then they were forced into a small room. There were two women here to directed them to wash their faces and hands from the road dirt.
Julie Sue’s natural leadership became evident when Ellen began once again to whine her complaints. She approached Ellen and touched her arm softly. Ellen regarded the touch with a bit of skepticism. While not recoiling from her, Ellen looked at Julie and nodded as if to say, “I know I’m complaining and there’s nothing that can be done.” Their eyes met and confirmed what their hearts said.
“We can make it if we all work together,” Julie’s voice was a small, almost silent whisper. “I’ve been thinking that what we need to find out is where we are. Then we can figure out how to tell people our story.”
Her logic was just what the other girls needed. Even Ellen began to temporarily stop her whining.
“Have any of you seen anything that might give us a hint? I heard that many cities have big churches and temples. Some have places that tourists might recognize.”
Each of the girls shook their heads in the negative. Then as if on cue, each of the girls said they thought they heard elephants; like at the circus or the zoo. Maybe they were near a zoo.
They sat, trying hard to remember anything else about their prison. Suddenly, Ellen said she saw what she thought was a big, black cow with weird horns when they were stopped at one of their “rest stops.” Then she said it had a funny wood collar on it. She’d seen it in a book at school. It had been from India, she thought.
The rest of the girls then sat quietly, desperately trying to think. Rebecca, Becky, offered something she smelled. It smelled like very sweet smoke, not like the driver’s cigarettes. It was only for a second, and seemed to come from the jungle. She, too, admitted she’d smelled it when they had stopped at the last stop before coming to the warehouse.
Barbara looked puzzled, but responded, “I think I saw a group of men outside before it was dark that had yellow or bright orange robes on. They were walking down the road together.” Their personal reflections continued.
The room had little ambient light and what followed was extremely frightening. A man opened the door to their prison quickly and slithered in, startling them with icy horror. He stared at them open-mouthed. He grinned an evil smile that filled their hearts with cold dread. He had such an evil look in his wild eyes that he forced a fearful gasp from each girl. None of them had ever seen such hatred and palpably sinister horror in any person than they had ever seen. He stood in the doorway inside the door. The door remained slightly ajar. His eyes reflected horrors they could not imagine. His cackle sounded like a stereotypical character from a horror movie. All he needed was an eye patch and a peg leg and he’d be some sort of science-fiction creature. His semi-toothless mouth bore the marks and stench of numerous fights, booze and lack of hygiene.
The girls, repulsed at his sudden appearance, recoiled from him and forced each other into the farthest corner away from him. His extremely smelly, dirty clothes barely covering his skinny body including his over-sized bloomers and vest gave him almost a comical appearance. No one was laughing at this left-over from a horror movie. He gave the appearance of the devils and monsters they imagined from horrors that they each feared what seemed a lifetime ago.
“I’ll get you later,” he whispered evilly. His English was amazingly correct.
A woman from out of sight yelled something in a language the girls didn’t understand. He obviously did and quickly jumped back from the door. He responded in the same language and slammed the door.
The fear registered in each girl’s countenance and screamed from their eyes that they wished to be anywhere but here. Two of the girls who were quite religious dropped to their knees on the dirty floor and prayed like they’d never prayed before; their eyes tightly closed and lips quietly moved. They all whimpered and cried together holding and trying to comfort themselves and each other. What had they been forced into? Why them? Were they so bad that God was punishing them?
They remained in that state for well over an hour. The light that had emanated from under the door and in cracks in the poorly constructed walls departed. The dim lights in the warehouse heralded a night of horror ahead. Was this nightmare ever to end? Or was this just the next act moving from one fear to another? There certainly were more questions than answers; more real fear than hope. All that seemed to matter was trying to get away from this place.
The next day dawned. Several hours after it was light enough to see clearly in the room, the door opened and a matronly woman walked in with a strained look on her face. She motioned to all in the room to follow her. Because it had been almost a month in captivity, all of the young women recognized the motions and gestures that constituted a type of visual hieroglyphics. The twelve girls gathered and moved together passing through the single door which created a single-file line that continued out into the hallway.
They moved slowly down a darkened hallway. The smells that wafted toward them seemed to be a combination of cooked rice, jasmine flowers and sandalwood. Several girls turned around to look at the girl behind her. Each one suddenly had the hope that finally they would be given a good meal. Still, there was the fear in the recesses of their minds that this was another horrid hoax. No one smiled. No one had any hope at all.
The door opened to a sparsely appointed dining area. On the far side was another single door. On the opposite wall there was a large mirror. There were four tables and twelve chairs, much like the other dining experience they had. This caused fear to overshadow their minds instead of joy. Who were these faces and bodies that reflected in the mirror? Could this be them? What had happened to them?
The matronly woman motioned for them to stop in front of the single door. The door opened and a man wearing a lab coat adorned with dirt stains as well as blood stains stood there with his hands on his hips. The coat probably once was white, but now reflected yellowed years of neglect and poor laundry habits. The man waiting for them appeared again to be a doctor. He looked little better than the last so-called doctor that examined them. He smiled a cold smile and exposed dark brown teeth stained from chewing betel nuts which was the fruit of the Areca palm tree. Frequently, this fruit was used as a stimulant to amplify the effects of nicotine in tobacco.
The “doctor” motioned for the first girl to come into the room. The smells of sandalwood incense were quite strong. This helped to mask the other odors of urine and feces that came from the far wall. It was apparent that this room doubled as a torture room when needed. Heavy iron rings adorned the far wall above shoulder height. The cement also showed scars where bullets either took life or provided intense prodding to previous occupants. He moved to a table crowded with first aid supplies. An elevated stool was used to “examine” each girl.
One by one the girls moved hesitantly into the room. The smells were only part of the fears. The man then checked the sores some still had on their arms, stomachs and legs. He cleaned and dressed any that were red and oozed puss. He was well aware of the consequences of infected sores especially here i
n the tropics. He obviously had a piece of the sales action associated with these captives and wanted them to be in the best health possible.
At the same time he checked for skin parasites such as leeches, fleas, lice and scabies. They would be deloused as a routine measure, but it was important to make sure nothing more serious was affecting them. Many times the bites of these parasites became infected due to scratching. This would not help their selling price either.
Next he had them remove the rest of their clothes and gave them a thorough examination. His concern was chiefly deformities that might affect their price, but mostly he needed to know if they were still virgins. The youngest girls were given a quick look, but Ellen, who was 14, was scrutinized closely. By this age, many Cambodian girls were mothers. It would never do to represent to a potential buyer that the girl was a virgin if she was not; bad for future business. The fear in his mind of molesting Ellen also provided her a margin of safety.
As a reward for their compliance, the girls were redressed and returned to the dining area and directed to take seats. When all returned, they were served. The meal consisted of rice, a fish stew with chunks of an unknown fish, a vegetable that appeared pale yellow and stringy, a drink made of tea and jasmine blossoms as well as a dried seaweed cone with a red jelly that was sweet.
The girls were so hungry that even the pale yellow vegetable tasted good. They had previously been introduced to dried seaweed but the sweet jelly inside made it palatable.
After eating, they were marched back to their small prison cell. The entire evolution of “medical care” and eating took about two hours.
It was now around noon and the humid heat in their room was particularly noticeable. The smells of unwashed bodies combining with the oppressive heat and the multiple bouts of vomiting and diarrhea caused several of the girls to cry loudly to use the bathroom.
After what seemed to be hours, a different woman opened the door and recoiled in revulsion as she stood in the doorway. She motioned all of them to get out of the room. The girls did not need to be told twice. They flew out of the door and huddled in the dark cement corridor, fearful that they would finally be beaten.
The Worth of Souls Page 10
