The Mourning Parade

by Dawn Reno Langley

Suddenly, everyone disappeared to help. No more faces at the doorway. Then Anurak’s dark head and Decha’s blonde snout appeared. The boy and his dog were small enough to fit into the shed with Natalie and the calf. Anurak stood on the other side of the calf, stroking its head and making a guttural noise, his way of soothing the baby. Decha sat at the calf’s feet, sniffing its legs as if to make sure it wouldn’t step on him. Still unsteady on its feet and bewildered by its own trunk, the calf flailed around and bumped into her and the shed wall.

  Natalie smiled at them both and wrapped her arms around the baby’s neck, knowing that at that moment she was not a veterinarian. She was only a woman, only a mother who knew that this baby needed as much mothering as she could possibly muster.

  Anurak and Decha helped her to comfort the calf during the fifteen minutes it took for Chanchai to arrive with the bottle of food. Khalan and Mali and Andrew stood outside the door while Natalie and Chanchai worked together to get the baby to take the nipple Mali had fashioned out of some cheesecloth she’d found in the kitchen.

  Andrew gave Natalie a blanket. “Put it over her shoulders. It’ll comfort the little bugger like her mother would’ve.”

  Salty sweat ran into Natalie’s mouth. The space had grown way too small to accommodate all of them, and the day became hotter by the minute. It took a lot of coaxing and Natalie literally had to hold the calf’s mouth open, but finally, she started to suckle and as soon as the concocted mixture started flowing down her throat, little moans of contentment filled the tiny shed. Chanchai caught Natalie’s eye above the calf’s, and he started talking quietly. Mali interpreted.

  “He says there always must be someone with this calf. We cannot leave her alone. And she must be fed every couple of hours like a baby.”

  “The first couple of months are critical,” Andrew added from outside. “I can’t tell you how many orphans we’ve lost at Doba. The handlers would think the calf was out of the woods, then overnight the little one would seemingly give up.” He sighed. “It’s heartbreaking. For a long time, we didn’t even know what to feed them, but thanks to the Sheldrick people, we all got a lesson.”

  “The Sheldrick people?” Natalie measured the contents of the bottle as the calf took a breather from suckling. Almost half gone.

  “Dame Sheldrick. She and her husband, David, worked together at the Royal National Parks in Kenya for years. When he died, she kept going. Now she and her son have what they call an orphanage. They’re pretty much heroes in Africa. Saved hundreds of orphans. Elephants, rhinos, giraffes. All kinds of African beasts. But she lost a lot of ellies until she finally figured out what she was doing wrong. It was the food. She figured out a formula for baby ellies and rhinos. Now she has a nursery full of them. Twenty or thirty strong at any point in time, I’d imagine. Dame Daphne’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  In the distance, a trumpet and an answering rumble reminded Natalie there were other mouths to feed. She handed the empty bottle to Khalan. “I think this one’s had a successful first feeding. Let’s get out of here before I pass out with this heat.”

  Outside, the air felt positively blissful. With the elephant leaning her little body trustingly against her, Natalie told Khalan to find the sunscreen lotion they bought by the case. Since this little one would have no mother to shelter her, Natalie would need to ensure her sensitive skin had the extra protection it needed against sunburn.

  Mali and Andrew disappeared to take care of kitchen and administrative business, promising to return as soon as they were done. Khalan left to feed his own elephant, Pahpao. Natalie was about to lead the calf to an area where she could sit with it for a while, when another trumpeting split the air.

  “That’s Sophie,” she told the calf. As if she understood, the calf reached her trunk out and tentatively touched Natalie’s fingers.

  “I think your old girl might be wondering what’s going on.” Seth came from behind, a Nikon video camera in his hand. He pointed it at the baby. “Maybe you should go reassure her that you haven’t deserted her.”

  Natalie thought for a moment, then turned to Seth. “Maybe we should introduce them.”

  Seth’s face lit up. Within moments, they were walking down the road, the calf between them.

  “I’m going to name her Apsara,” Natalie announced when they arrived at Sophie’s enclosure. She was at the gate, like an old lady waiting for them to join her for a cup of tea.

  “That’s Thai for angel, isn’t it?” Seth stood behind Sophie, filming her reaction to the little orphan. Seth moved forward, his attention focused on the calf.

  “Far enough,” Natalie warned. Sophie had begun rumbling in the back of her throat but stopped when Seth came into her line of vision. The calf stood on shaky feet, her ears wide, as if unsure whether this big elephant was one of her family.

  “What do you think, old girl? Do you want to meet Apsara?” Natalie whispered.

  Sophie stopped swaying and stared at the baby. Stretching her trunk straight out, Sophie appeared to check the baby’s fingerprint, her lineage. Apsara, innocent and trusting and curious, trotted over to the fence and shakily lifted her own miniature trunk up to try to meet Sophie’s. Sophie backed up a few steps and reached for Natalie, grabbing Natalie’s arm, then dropping it, as if to say, “Who is this? Her smell has been on you.”

  “This is Apsara, Sophie. Can you be friends?”

  Sophie rumbled and leaned forward as if considering the question. She reached her trunk over the fence, and Apsara skipped backward, stumbling a bit. The tiny elephant kicked up her back legs and chortled, playing, then reached out her trunk again. This time hers and Sophie’s touched.

  Natalie’s throat constricted. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she was watching a very special moment. She smiled at the obvious pleasure Apsara got out of actually touching another elephant, and Natalie’s pride in Sophie filled her chest. She glanced at Seth to see if he was getting everything on video and caught him wiping his own eyes.

  __________

  The woman stands next to her, holding Sophie’s trunk and talking quietly. Sophie inspects the woman thoroughly, her large trunk inserting itself in the food bag the woman carries. She smells the woman’s hair, touches her arms and legs, searching for hidden treats. Only after her inspection is complete does Sophie reach down for the little one next to the woman’s side.

  “This one is very small, Sophie. You must be patient with her.”

  Sophie’s eyes flicker from the calf beside the woman and back again.

  The memory of the one she lost fills her mouth with a sour taste. Her dried up teats ache with a phantom infant’s suckle. It has been many seasons since she’s seen a little one, and many more before that since she had one of her own.

  Her trunk reaches in the calf’s direction, its pink-freckled tip stretching. Opening. Closing. She shifts from one foot to the other, deciding whether to move forward.

  The baby has yet to learn how to use her own trunk. It flaps and flops uselessly as she dances around.

  The woman takes the makeshift teat from the calf’s mouth. With her feed removed, the little one instantly catches sight of Sophie and gives a whistle and a chirp.

  In seconds, she’s between Sophie’s legs, searching for what Sophie cannot give her. Still, Sophie wraps her trunk around the baby’s belly, huffs, feels for the calf’s mouth. She cannot remember the last time she has known joy.

  Forty-Two

  Better to live alone; with a

  fool there is no companionship.

  With few desires live alone

  and do no evil, like an elephant

  in the forest roaming at will.

  -The Pali Canon, Ib. 23.330L

  Andrew came into the clinic, Sivad behind him like a shadow. She wore a little, pink dress and clutched a ragged, eyeless teddy bear to her chest. Her brown feet were bare and dusty. When she
saw Natalie, she ran to her. Natalie instantly swooped her up and nuzzled her neck, bringing a delighted giggle from the little girl.

  “Seth’s packing up,” Andrew announced upon settling himself in the office chair. “He let me see the rough cut of the episode this morning. It’s outstanding!”

  He slapped an open palm on her desk. “Sophie’s story is going to put the sanctuary on everyone’s radar, and we’re sure to be able to raise the funds we need to repair the perimeter fence and add more protected contact enclosures. I’m here to thank you, love. For everything.”

  She hugged Sivad closer. “You don’t have to thank me. Actually, I need to thank you, Andrew. This place . . . and Sophie . . . have been wonderful for me.” The comments felt very much like a goodbye, and she realized in that brief moment that she’d have to face the reality of going back to her true life soon, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Or wanted it.

  He laced his hands over his ample stomach and raised one bushy white eyebrow. “I think that one man’s appearance—and another’s disappearance—might have more to do with the smile on your face than this place and Sophie.” He grinned wickedly. “You’ve seemed pretty content lately, but I’ve a feeling I’ll see a different look on your face tomorrow.”

  Sivad squirmed so Natalie released her to the floor and gave her some pencils and a piece of paper to draw on. The girl lay on her stomach on the cool tile, her teddy bear beside her, instantly in her own little world. The couple of moments it had taken to get the little girl busy gave Natalie enough time to compose herself before answering Andrew.

  “I knew Seth wasn’t going to be here permanently.” She searched carefully for the words to explain the complicated feelings she’d been experiencing during the past month. “I’m not even sure I would want something permanent with him, but it’s been . . . I don’t know how to say it. It’s been many things, but I think the best is that it’s been lovely.”

  “Lovely is always a good word.” Andrew’s voice and eyes were unexpectedly soft. “I like that word because it’s got round edges to it. No stress to the word ‘lovely.’ And it’s respectful. Kind of dignified, don’t you think? Plus, it holds the word ‘love’ inside it, without the ties of commitment like, perhaps, the word ‘special.’ Did you know that word—love—has been around for about five thousand years?” He nodded emphatically in response to her raised eyebrows. “Yes. And all of the words that combine with it or create another subtle meaning came along from thereon. Good Old English word it was: lufu. And almost a holy word. God was a god of love. A being that showed great affection. And, of course, that being would be described as lovely. It’s a good word—lovely is—to describe a relationship that’s temporary yet treasured.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. She hadn’t pegged Andrew for a romantic. Both of them tenderly watched Sivad drawing a cat and a dog, then some flowers and a stick tree. Natalie mused that all children must draw the exact same images at some point in their lives, no matter where in the world they lived.

  She remembered looking down on Danny’s head from above. He was drawing a red and blue snowman with crayons she’d stuck in his Christmas stocking when he was five. With all the big mechanical gifts he’d received that year (it was the year he wanted nothing but “choo choo trains”), the crayons were what he played with most. She had told Parker then that she wanted to keep Danny this age always, she never wanted him to grow up. The innocence and curiosity, independence and gaiety, fearsome courage and tender friendship—all were so genuine and precious. She knew, even then, that with each year, he’d grow away, and she needed to capture the memories when they happened.

  “You know, it’s funny that we often don’t know what we’re going to remember and treasure and which moments are fleeting glimpses we’ll forget as soon as they pass,” she said to Andrew.

  “So true,” Andrew sighed. “The older I get, the more I remember from the past. I was thinking the other day about my great aunts and how they would bake pound cakes on the weekend and invite all the nieces and nephews to the kitchen for milky tea and lemon pound cake. We’d sit around the little wooden table like right proud adults, sipping tea and eating our cake as if we’d been born with crowns on our heads. Those aunties made us all feel as special as the kids who lived in Windsor castle. We were a solid little army, right we were.” He sighed and glanced up at the ceiling, his eyes a bit glassy. “Lord, I loved that stuff, and I hadn’t thought about that for many a year.”

  “Daddy, draw me an ellie?” Sivad stood at her father’s knee, handing him a pencil and a piece of paper. He glanced up at Natalie and smiled.

  They sat together, Natalie helping Andrew with the requested drawing for his daughter, and they laughed about how bad it was. When the dinner bell rang, the three of them strolled down the road, Sivad in the middle with Natalie and Andrew each holding a hand as the little magpie chattered on about what she wanted to eat for supper.

  That night was the first time since they’d returned from Bangkok that Mali sat with them for dinner. As they all sat around the table and celebrated the last evening they would be together, wine and brandy flowed as freely as the conversation, and when the talk turned to what Andrew called “telling tales out of school,” the evening of libations oiled the way for lots of laughter. Andrew and Seth competed to tell the most outrageous stories, the tales getting taller and taller as they passed the virtual storytelling baton back and forth.

  Finally, Natalie pleaded for mercy with her hands on her sides and big hysterical tears flowing down her face. The men acquiesced, someone brought over a pot of tea, and Seth’s hand found its way to Natalie’s thigh. She felt the color rise in her cheeks and was happy that the only light on the platform came from half a dozen candles scattered around the group.

  Once the laughter died down completely, talk turned to the political situation in Bangkok. Everyone shared the most recent tidbits of news and their personal opinions. Rob had heard from a fellow cameraman that everyone except the people who ran and frequented the nighttime outdoor markets, was complying with the curfew. Andrew said there had been another verbal confrontation between the military and the protestors. That comment made Mali grimace, and she backed her seat away from the table. She fidgeted and played with her hair, yet she didn’t speak to anyone.

  “Isn’t there someone in charge of the protestors? A spokesperson of some sort?” Natalie asked of no one in particular.

  Mali looked at Andrew. He glanced across the table at Seth, who instantly shot an unspoken question to Rob and Sidecar. Both shrugged their shoulders as if to say, “Not guilty.”

  “I find it hard to believe that no one’s in charge,” Natalie continued. “Even when there’s an unruly mob, there’s someone with a bullhorn. There’s always a leader. If you folks don’t know, I’d be willing to bet there’s a journalist somewhere who does.”

  “I’m sure there is,” Seth said. “I’m not necessarily in those circles, but if you want me to find out . . .” He looked directly at Mali as if posing the question. She nodded. “I’ll see if anyone at the station can find out.”

  An uneasy silence hung over the table for a couple of moments, then Andrew asked the cameramen if they’d noticed anything strange the day Siriporn, Peter, and Karina disappeared.

  “I was in the river most of the day,” Sidecar admitted, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. He sweated constantly and was more often than not peering over the top of them. “It was a steamer that day, and I took the day off. Just floated in the river. It was the only time I’ve had to relax in quite a while. Took advantage of it. Got to admit it. I did see Dr. Hatcher earlier in the day with some of the kiddos. Now that I look back on it, well, it did look like he was saying goodbye but can’t say I thought much of it at the time. No, I didn’t.”

  “He always talks to the children.” Mali studied her fingertips as she spoke. “They love him. Sivad thin
ks of him as her uncle. He taught her how to say her ABCs. And if it wasn’t for him, half the dogs in the village would’ve been rounded up and on their way to the slaughterhouse. He’s not the easiest man to understand, but his heart is huge.”

  “I always blamed him for giving me extra mouths to feed,” Andrew laughed.

  “You’re talking about him like he’s gone permanently.” Rob took a long drag of his Chinese-made cigarette, a smelly type of herbal combination that made Natalie nauseous. “He didn’t strike me as someone who’d abandon his job. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another motive.”

  “Well, there’s the lady,” Sidecar said with an elbow and a wink at Rob. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Love Boat.” He sung the words as if starting the theme song for the classic television show of the same name.

  “They were always close.” Andrew leaned forward on the table, his face full of unanswered questions. “But I can’t see either of them abandoning their responsibilities.”

  “Love makes you do crazy things,” Seth said. His tone was serious and his dark eyes slid to Natalie and stayed there. She held his stare a beat longer than was comfortable, then glanced away. Confused.

  Seth’s comment surprised Natalie. Though Hatcher and Karina did have an ongoing flirtation, she’d be shocked if the two of them had planned a passionate tryst and had run away on romantic pretenses. It had always seemed to her that the bantering they had was Hatcher’s way of passing time and that their relationship consisted of gossip and teasing. No passion.

  “Neither of them left a note,” Andrew said. He pushed a hand through his hair, a habit born of frustration, Natalie thought. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t tell me why they were leaving. I feel like it was a last minute decision. You sure you didn’t see or hear anything that day?” He addressed the last question to Rob and Sidecar, but once again, they mutely answered with a negative headshake.