by Kae Bell
Andrew watched this scene, considering his options. He could draw Heang to the stable and maybe take him out by force. But the odds were still too great; there were too many men. And who knew if there were a few men more patrolling the woods, though Andrew had not seen anyone on his approach up the hill. He didn’t even have a weapon at this point. With a glance at the animals, he retreated to the edge of the woods and waited.
Chapter 34
Hours later, Andrew fretted in the woods, hungry and cold, knowing he was wasting time but certain that he could stop Hakk’s plan, if he could just get inside that hut.
All day, he’d watched the men at the table. From Andrew’s vantage point, he could see Hakk lecture his men. Andrew caught an occasional familiar-sounding word, but they spoke mostly in Khmer and without Socheat’s help, he understood little of it. The men had eaten a simple meal, prepared by Heang, of rice in coconut milk. Andrew had watched as Heang sliced the rind from the fruit and tended the fire.
Each man in turn had left the hut to venture into the woods, presumably, Andrew figured, to relieve themselves. During all of this, Andrew had kept his eyes trained on the hut.
At one point, after several hours, an argument had erupted inside the hut, between two of the men, their yelling waking Andrew from an uneasy snooze. Hakk had silenced them with a word and resumed.
While Andrew waited, he built a rough sling-shot from a supple twig and a thin elastic from his waist band. He used to build them when he was a kid, terrorizing the neighborhood squirrels. Not an ideal weapon, but it would have to do.
Finally, in late afternoon, the men emerged looking tired but eager. The meeting was adjourned just as the storm broke, blowing east to Vietnam. Thin rays of light were caught and reflected in large round raindrops on dark green leaves. Hakk remained inside, unseen except for glimpses through the window.
Heang stood guard as a few men lit cigarettes and others hopped on their motorcycles, revving their engines as they anticipated the return trip to their homelands. This, Andrew knew, meant things were in motion for Sunday. The bikers launched themselves onto the rough dirt trail and disappeared, leaving a trail of dust.
Andrew counted. Aside from the two remaining men, who were also readying for travel, that left Heang, one other guard, and Hakk inside the hut. Andrew was more comfortable with this. The departure of the men told Andrew that Hakk felt secure in these woods, far from any city, certain that he had nothing to fear. Confident that he himself was the greatest danger.
Andrew settled down behind the stable to wait. After some time, all was quiet again. Heang called out to his fellow guard. He had to urinate. He walked in to the woods on the far side of the clearing, leaving only the one guard, facing the stream, chucking stones at the small frogs that had appeared on the banks, filling the coming night with song.
Andrew stepped into the dark stable where the animals rested. He loosened the twine tying the elephants to the bamboo poles and with a rump slap, pushed them toward the clearing. They didn’t need much encouragement, as they too thought the stall needed a good cleaning. As they stepped away from him, Andrew patted the big girl’s rump. “Sorry, you’re not gonna like this.” He slipped back into the darkness and pulled out the slingshot.
Elephants have thick hides but Andrew hoped they could still feel beneath all that skin.
He found a bullet-shaped object in his pocket. He’d gnawed off a part of the rubber sole of his shoes while he waited. The hard black rubber would sting the old girl and hopefully, piss her off pretty good. Andrew hoped she’d have something to say about that.
Andrew took aim. In the clearing, Jane nibbled on the grass, which tasted sweeter than her normal feed. Her baby boy stayed close by.
Phhtt! The shot hit home and was followed by a trumpeting that could wake the dead. The elephant bellowed, wailed and kicked, turning this way and that in effort to stop the pain and find the aggressor. Andrew shot a second round. More furious complaining ensued.
Her companion, uncertain what had happened, tried to be helpful but kept getting in Jane’s way. The wailing continued, and Andrew assumed the rubber bullet had left a good welt on Jane’s ample backside. No matter. It did the trick.
The guard rushed from the hut to see what the fuss was about. Heang ran back to the clearing from his piss in the woods.
On seeing the men running at her, Jane went into a mad rampage, storming directly at them. The closest one turned to run away, climbing the nearest tree he could find. But Heang pulled out his gun and shut a round into the air. At the sound, Jane bellowed once more and turned sharply, heading now for the forest, for the safety of the deepest jungle she could find. Her companion followed on Jane’s heels, their bellowing echoing in the jungle.
Hakk appeared in the doorway at the top of the short ladder.
“Fools. Go and get them.”
Amidst the hubbub, darkness had fallen, without warning, night ushered in unceremoniously, without introduction. The guards lit long bamboo torches and headed reluctantly into the dense jungle. They had dim hope of finding the escaped elephants, who now galloped through the forest, thrilled with their freedom, trumpeting for all that they were back. The guards did not argue with Hakk. They proceeded as commanded.
Hakk watched his men disappear in to the jungle, their torchlight bobbing and weaving with their movements, trying to find the semblance of a path, but having little luck.
“Fools.” Hakk muttered. He was alone now, which he preferred. He needed his men only to execute his plan. He retreated inside to wait. With the rising of the sun, his vision would unfold across the country. All would be enlightened.
Andrew watched from his hiding place by the stable. “This works,” he whispered to himself. He imagined Hakk would be surprised to see him. And not pleasantly so. Andrew looked forward to the reunion.
*******
Leaving his hiding place, Andrew stayed low to the ground and circled the perimeter of the camp to approach the main hut. A broad shallow brook bubbled nearby. He was certain there was no one else but Hakk present.
He crouched in the semi-darkness of dusk and moved to the hut, the sky above him the deepest blue before the stars appeared. He wedged himself underneath the hut, into a two-foot gap between the forest floor and the hut baseboards. There, through gaps in the uneven floor, Andrew could see Hakk pacing. Andrew smelled cigarette smoke, Hakk’s pipe and charred paper, as if evidence had been burned. The lantern in the north corner of the hut had gone out, its oil depleted.
Andrew’s only weapon, his knife, was safely in the hands of Heang, who was now in the jungle, hunting his pet elephant.
By the entrance to the hut, the cooking fire still burned, popping and cracking as the flames devoured the dry wood seasoned several years in the remote jungle. The fire threw the occasional spark onto the clearing, where it extinguished in grass still wet from the rain.
Concealed now so close to his target, Andrew saw something glowing red amidst the flames. Andrew shimmied forward in the dirt on his elbows to get a closer look at the fire.
The object in the fire was a metal shovel, stuck into the coals to move the logs and forgotten once the rice was cooked and the meal was served.
Andrew listened. There was no sound of the guards; they were too far into the jungle. He heard no noises from above him in the hut. He could not see Hakk now but assumed he was reading and standing still. Andrew pushed forward from underneath the floor, toward the fire.
Moving quickly beside the fire, Andrew touched the protruding shovel handle, testing it. It was wood and cool to the touch. But the shovel blade, squarely in the coals for some time now, shone red hot along its edge. Andrew grabbed the handle and pulled the makeshift weapon from the coals. He moved back to the hut and crouched low by the window, his legs loose and ready, his heart thumping against his chest wall. He took a moment to slow his breath and visualize his next several moves as he watched Hakk pace by a map on the wall. Deep in thought, Hakk paced with
a strict rhythm, the same number of steps in each direction, his turns sharp and quick.
Andrew glanced around the clearing. It was empty and quiet. The elephant-chasing guards had disappeared deep into the brush. The evening birdsong had settled into silence. The clear-running brook tumbled over stones, toward wide and far-away shores.
Andrew strode to the hut and stood beside the doorway, peering in. Hakk had stopped pacing and was staring at the map, his hands held behind his back. He rocked on his heels. A board beneath his shoes squeaked with each descent. In loose-fitting black trousers and top, Hakk carried no visible weapon. Andrew saw a pistol at the far end of the table, by Hakk’s seat.
Andrew stepped up inside the hut and moved toward the table, the shovel at his side. He was careful to keep the red blade a good distance from his skin. With each slow step, he kept his eyes trained on Hakk.
As he reached the table, the board underneath his right foot creaked. Hakk turned at the sound. The two men stared at each other from opposite ends of the table. A shadow crossed Hakk’s face and then was gone.
“How unfortunate. I thought Heang had dealt with you.”
“Your man Heang might take a lesson or two in tying knots.”
“What is it that you want Mr. Shaw? You have traveled a long way.”
“I want you to call off your plan. Call off your men. Whatever you have in the works, you’ll just destroy your country, its future. Call it off. Call it off right now.”
As he spoke, Andrew eyed the gun on the table. Hakk followed Andrew’s gaze.
“You know nothing of my country, Mr. Shaw. Nothing of what it is and what it needs for the future. I will set my country, my people, free,” Hakk said, glaring at Andrew.
For a moment, the two men faced each other. The wind that had earlier gripped the trees had calmed. The night was still, with the only the silent music of the stars. The forest held its breath.
The next instant, both men lurched for the gun. Hakk was closest and grabbed it, as Andrew rushed forward, swinging the shovel in a high arc like a baton. Hakk released one wild shot before the shovel knocked the gun from his left hand and hit him square on the chin. The blow knocked him backwards into the wall and he crumbled to the floor. Andrew dropped the hot shovel and was upon Hakk in instant, his hands on his throat.
Hakk smiled up at Andrew, their faces inches apart. “You are a foolish, persistent man,” Hakk said, looking past Andrew.
Before Andrew could turn, Heang, who had returned from the chase and heard the commotion in the hut, stepped inside to see the fight. He rushed forward and jabbed a large needle in Andrew’s neck. Andrew felt a weakness take hold of him, a coldness that coursed through him like a chill winter wind. He collapsed off of Hakk onto the wood floor. There he lay, unable to move, but still conscious, staring up at Hakk, who stood over him, dusting off his hands. Andrew tried to think, but a fog enveloped him.
Hakk watched the drugs take hold. He said to Andrew, “The animals get unruly, so we give them something to calm themselves. We underestimated you. So now we will keep you with us. You will stand witness to my triumph.”
Hakk bent low, close to Andrew’s face. “And when it is over, I’ll dump you like chum in the South China Sea.”
Andrew succumbed to the chemicals, his last image Hakk’s black eyes watching over him.
*******
When he woke, Andrew was tied in the elephant stable, sitting in shit-covered straw. He shook the offending material off his bare arms. The knots around his wrists and ankles were expertly done this time, tight and secure.
Andrew listened. Above the trees swaying in winds leftover from the storm, he heard men talking nearby but out of his view. A snuffling noise accompanied their quiet conversation. The guards had returned, with only one of the elephants, the baby, tied to a nearby tree, grazing by the stream.
The light in the main hut was out. The men stood guard under a wide tree, smoking, their cigarette tips red in the dark. They had been instructed not to speak with the prisoner, not to touch him, feed him or respond to his queries or requests.
Andrew called out. “Hey! Heang!”
No reply. But their quiet conversation had ceased and they listened. They had not been instructed against listening.
“Hey, someone come here. There’s a huge snake in here, striped like a bee! I think it’s gonna bite me! Get this thing away from me!”
Tied to the stiff bamboo, Andrew yelled and shuffled about in the straw, making noise enough for the guards to hear. He knew there was a deep fear of snakes here, the provinces writhed with poisonous ones, cobras, vipers, who had killed many a bare-footed farmer. The snake Andrew described, the banded krait, with distinctive black and yellow stripes, struck fear in all hearts; its bite brought with it a painful, paralytic death.
No reply from the guards. No movement. Andrew continued.
“Holy SHIT! Ow!! OWWWww! The fucker just bit me!”
Andrew knocked about the stable more vigorously now, banging his head on the bamboo and with his bound feet, kicking straw out onto the clearing, where the guards would hopefully see it in the torchlight.
“Ugh. Help, help me…someone. Help.”
Andrew made several more unintelligible noises, his voice trailing off and then he lay still, blinking.
He waited. No movement from the guards. But no conversation either.
Andrew waited and listened. He was good at waiting and listening. It always paid off.
*******
After twenty minutes, during which Andrew moved only once, stretching his left foot, pointing and flexing to work out a cramp under his big toe, one of the guards ventured toward the stable. Heang had tried to dissuade him but he insisted. His little sister had nearly died from a snake bite while catching frogs by a stream. He did not like snakes. And it sounded like the snake was in a biting mood.
The guard lit a torch and walked forward, watching the grass and flaring the ground with the torch in case the snake had slithered into the clearing.
The guard had heard Andrew’s pleas and decided he himself was just being smart by checking on things. If there was a snake and more importantly, if the prisoner was dead, he would need to tell Hakk. He knew he was disobeying Hakk’s order but he was certain Hakk would applaud his initiative.
He stepped forward into the stable, his foot slipping a bit on the soiled hay.
In the dark stable, the prisoner was slumped by the back wall. The guard shone the torch on the hay, uncertain now if he should move forward. Perhaps the snake lay coiled and waiting, disturbed by this new visitor. The guard backed away.
Then he heard it, a slight hissing sound, so faint he thought it might be the distant wind. He stopped moving, breathing. He listened. There it was again. A whisper of a hiss, then nothing.
He was certain there was a snake. This would not do. The guards slept on straw mats on the ground outside Hakk’s hut in the open air. A snake would be drawn to their warm bodies. It was a danger to all of them.
He pulled his gun from his belt and stepped forward again into the dark.
*******
Andrew had watched with relief as the guard approach. It had been a long twenty minutes. He had twisted himself into an uncomfortable position to mimic a painful death. His arms, tied behind his back, were asleep.
He had watched the guard step into the doorway, hesitate, and step outside again.
Betting on the strength of curiosity and fear, Andrew making as small a sound as he could, had hissed. He knew if he was still tied up when Hakk woke, with the dawn, there was no tomorrow for him. For many.
The guard waved the torch across the hay, the sound of the flame swooshing. Motes of dust filtered up from the hay, floating in the light. He stepped again, lifting his foot and placing it with care, approaching the still prisoner, who was prone, his body frozen and contorted, as if in pain. The guard listened for breathing but heard none.
As the guard approached him with his gun drawn, Andrew felt
his stomach tighten. He readied to strike.
Andrew moved so quickly he surprised even himself. In lightning motions, Andrew thrust his bound feet hard upwards at the guard, who had leaned over the “corpse” to inspect it. Knocking the guard off his feet, Andrew pulled him close with his legs, rolling his torso onto the guard to stifle his surprised calls for help. Andrew shoved a sharp elbow below the guard’s sternum, to knock out his wind and silence his cries. Then, rolling off him, with a sharp blow from his palm, he shoved the man’s nose into his brain.
Andrew’s breathing was heavy with momentum. He grabbed the guard’s gun, a knife from his pocket, a cell phone, and a lighter. His colleagues would be looking for him in a moment, wondering if he had found the snake.
He had indeed, only it had two legs. And now it was armed.
Chapter 35
It was a perfect Saturday morning, cool with no hint of rain, the first time in months. The children's game of tag had started, as it usually did, on the temple steps. They were so pleased to leave behind their schoolbooks and uniforms and to jump and race on ancient stone steps.
The tourists had arrived to Siem Reap in abundance the day before, swarming the temples in numbers indicating that rainy season was truly over. The local policemen and guards had shooed the children away from the temples where they usually played.
Seeking a more peaceful playground where they would not be admonished, the children ventured farther into the woods than they normally did. Their game continued in the jungle, as the children scattered in the woods, their yelps and giggles carrying high into the tall trees.
As they moved deeper into the forest, where it was darker and still, the children grew quiet. The group drew closer together. Then the game itself stopped, no one wanted to be ‘It’ as no one wanted to run far ahead of the others. They stayed together in the quiet, walking through the dim jungle light.
This was a new game, exploring, that they had done little. They were usually under the watchful eye of an older sister or aunt but today everyone was busy cooking or sewing to prepare for Pchum Ben Day tomorrow.
