The Cascading, Book II: Fellow Girl

by CW Ullman

  At noon the following day, a convoy of soldiers arrived at the Lotus Blossom in three large diesel trucks. They walked around a hilltop of huts that appeared vacant. One of them radioed his commander.

  “Are you sure we have the right location?” the soldier radioed…“Well, there’s five huts, a main house and some kind of grave with rocks piled on top holding flowers. And, I can’t pronounce the name on the grave. It looks American: E-L-V-I-S,” the soldier spelled.

  By the time the soldiers left a vacant Lotus Blossom, two buses of children and supplies were leaving Vietnam.

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  It took the better part of two days to reach Pok’s former compound. The reign of terror and genocide that plagued the northeast provinces of Cambodia had driven out or killed hundreds of thousands of Cambodians. What was formerly an area teaming with Cham, now held only small, scattered groups of people. Very few knew of the existence of Pok’s place, so when the buses arrived, they found it deserted and overgrown by the surrounding jungle.

  There were legions of bespectacled langurs in the trees, huts, and cages. To get rid of the monkeys and drive them back into the jungle, Thanh and his men set off a series of smoke and concussive grenades that were designed to be loud, but not kill. Once the monkeys were gone they set about making the compound habitable.

  After a week of cutting vines from the huts, pulling bamboo vipers from rain gutters, running off a small herd of Banteng, and sweeping and cleaning, Mr. Pok’s compound was rechristened the Lotus Blossom. Thanh thought they should have called it Monkey Blossom.

  Tuyen Mam returned to the task of buying or stealing girls out of prostitution, with Thanh as her muscle. If the pimps followed them back to the Lotus Blossom with the idea of grabbing rescued girls, Thanh ran them off. The way Tuyen went about her job put her in peril and because he knew it was her calling to save these girls, he had to protect her.

  Over a period of time, it slowly became evident to everyone but Thanh and Tuyen Mam that they were in love. It was hard to see at first because they disagreed on just about everything. He thought she was stubborn and contrary and she thought he was like all men – he had to be right. She would hear him out about the dangers of what she was doing and how headstrong she was. She would nod, then say she was leaving to rescue a girl and ask if he was coming. He would sententiously agree, grab a gun, and follow her.

  While he wanted to go to America, Thanh knew he could not leave Tuyen Mam. He saw the real and potential hazards of what she was doing, while she saw only girls who had to be saved. He told My Ling, “She’s insane. How can I leave her alone?”

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  The rainy season came and went and life in Lotus Blossom was unique. Little My Ling took her first steps just before her first birthday. Dao and My Ling talked of the incident with Huyen and Dao seemed to have left the trauma in the past. My Ling’s sister, Trieu, absolutely loved being at the mission and teaching the girls school subjects. Her son, Tu, was six and liked being part of the mission’s extended family. He frequently could be found with little My Ling, who he called Tiger Cub, dressing her up like she was an animated doll.

  What was unique at Lotus Blossom was Colonel Cin’s legacy followed My Ling to Cambodia. Villagers who had somehow survived the purges of the Khmer Rouge made pilgrimages to the Lotus Blossom to see the widow of Colonel Cin. They would enter the compound as though it was hallowed ground and ask her to bless their children. They would touch her clothing and bring gifts. In the beginning she was unsettled by this reverential attention, but became used to it with time. Then it occurred to her to capitalize on it for the sake of the mission. The orphanage was constantly running short of supplies, clothing, and food. When people came seeking an audience with the Tiger Girl, she told them that Colonel Cin had supported the orphanage and if he was alive would have appreciated any gifts for the home.

  As time passed, people heard that if they were making a pilgrimage to see The Tiger Girl, they needed to bring something for the girls being sheltered at Lotus Blossom. So people came bearing bags of rice, sandals, clothing, even ribbons and charms. Despite these donations, the orphanage still struggled to fulfill its mission. But most heartbreaking was when families would leave their children at the mission because they could not afford to feed them. Tuyen, Trieu, Thanh and My Ling decided to create a way the families could stay together. They encouraged the families to keep their daughters with them and make trips to the compound for food when they were running low.

  Other families stayed on the outskirts of the compound and helped plant rice or build huts for new arrivals. The orphanage grew from twenty-five girls to over seventy-five, with about thirty families who camped there permanently. Thanh saw this as a growing problem and called a meeting with the three women.

  “We have a more mouths to feed every day and a spotty supply of food. We need to figure something out,” he announced.

  My Ling surprised everyone by telling them she was leaving Lotus Blossom.

  Thanh laughed, “You’re kidding?” When he realized she was not, he exclaimed, “No, that’s not -,” My Ling interrupted him

  “Many of the people are coming here because of me. If I’m not here many won’t make the journey, which means fewer mouths to feed. I have been thinking about it for a long time. Once, I’m in America I can get more support from the Vietnamese and Degar communities. But the main reason I want to go to America is Cin wanted My Ling raised there,” she explained.

  Trieu’s face blanched, “My Ling, are you sure? If you go, I have to go with you, and I don’t know if I can leave the Lotus Blossom.”

  My Ling thought it would be harder for Trieu because Tu had adapted to the surroundings and had developed relationships with the other children.

  “During the war, Cin liked how the Americans respected the Montagnards. Cin told me he wanted My Ling to know the history of the native people, but did not want her subjected to the abuses and prejudices of the Vietnamese. He said America is a country of immigrants and everybody has a chance to succeed. He believed little My Ling would not have that chance if she stayed here. If you want to stay for you and Tu, I understand.”

  Tuyen Mam wondered, “But, what about you, My Ling? What do you want?”

  “Cin did not like the adulation and now I know why. I’m not My Ling here, I’m Cin’s widow; Tiger Girl. People are expecting things from me and asking for advice about things I don’t know anything about. Last week a farmer wanted me to tell him when he should plant his crop and what kind of water buffalo to buy. They treat little My Ling like she’s Buddha.”

  She paused for a minute,” I don’t know if I’ll like it there, but he wanted My Ling to grow up in America, to have a chance… the experience. I feel I owe him that.”

  One thing after another came up that delayed her departure. More people arrived, more children were dropped off, Tuyen and Thanh continued their raids on dirt hovel brothels to rescue girls and teenagers from prostitution. My Ling began teaching some of the girls violin. Obligations, duties, and responsibilities added three years to her eventual departure from Lotus Blossom. By this time, the orphanage housed close to two hundred girls, with nearly three hundred families camped more or less permanently around the mission. During this three year period, Trieu decided to go to America with My Ling. Tuyen and Thanh had married and had a six month old boy named after Thanh’s legendary deceased brother, Cin. He was nicknamed the Little Colonel.

  The night before My Ling, Trieu, Little My Ling, and Tu left, Tuyen Mam threw a farewell party for them. Di.u now twelve surprised My Ling with a violin solo of Adoration. No words had the emotional impact of the song’s melancholy resonance. It evoked a cascade of images, memories, and experiences from the last ten years. While the notes drifted into the air, all who had endured the years of fighting, running, hiding, and the death of Cin and Elvis were moved to tears by Di.u’s playing. The surprise for My Ling was when the festivities were over, Dao and Di.u said they wanted to come with her. My
Ling happily agreed and told them to get some sleep because the journey would be long and difficult.

  My Ling’s last farewell was not to a person but to Long. The dog was years old with a noticeable limp in his hind legs. She carried him into her room and sat on the floor next to him stoking his back.

  “Your friend Elvis is gone,” she said welling up with emotion “and I’m leaving tomorrow. I used to be so upset when you antagonized him, but now we have grown close and I just might miss you the most. You’ll always be my little Dragon.” She hugged Long and for the last time watched him fall asleep.

  The following morning My Ling and her Tiger Cub, Trieu, Tu and the sisters, Dao and Di.u, boarded a boat and waved goodbye to four hundred people and one dog crowded along the banks of the Tonle San River. They started their journey for Phnom Penh, which would lead them to Thailand where My Ling would see a tormentor she had not seen in ten years.

  CHAPTER IX

  Cambodia had suffered at the hands of its neighbors and from internal strife since the fifteenth century. Over those five hundred years it had more wars, civil wars, genocides and instability than peace. Kingdoms had come and gone through numerous conflicts with Vietnam, Thailand, Laos and China. If its neighbors were not occupying and destroying the country, the country itself was executing its citizens by the hundreds of thousands. It was during a conflict between the Khmer Rouge and the People’s Army of Vietnam allied with the People’s Army of Kampuchea that My Ling and her fellow travelers left the Lotus Blossom for Thailand. They had to pass through the heart of that conflict to reach the Thai border, four hundred miles away.

  The Khmer Rouge was pinned against the Thai border while the two allied armies were attempting to destroy it. Hundreds of thousands of refugees had made it inside Thailand, avoiding the battles. My Ling did not want to get trapped in the refugee camps which were periodically shelled by Vietnamese artillery units inside Cambodia, or harassed by the Thai Army for minor infractions. The camps were frequently broken up, moved, and resettled, then resettled again.

  Before she left the Lotus Blossom, Thanh stretched out a map of the country, and traced a route into Thailand, advising her to definitely avoid National Highway Six, a major road into Thailand. He thought the roadway would be impossible to travel because of bombardments, or would be heavily traveled by soldiers or gangs that would stop them. He armed the women with .45 caliber handguns, because they are easier to conceal. He also gave her the names of Cham he had befriended when Colonel Cin’s army was hiding out in Cambodia.

  My Ling headed to the southwest of Cambodia to a small village in the mountains of the Phnom Koulen National Park. Thanh said the native people would know how to smuggle My Ling and her party across the Thai border and into Bangkok.

  “When you meet these people, tell them you are Cin’s widow and Little My Ling is his child. Then show this,” Thanh said, as he handed her one of Cin’s military dog tags and his military I.D. “I was going to keep them, but you’ll need them more than me.”

  He continued, “These people are the ones who will not kill you. Everybody else will most likely try, especially if they find Cin’s I.D. on you.”

  The journey, while difficult, was easier than when My Ling traveled with Cin’s army, because there were only six of them now. Dao joked with My Ling that Bi’ch’s complaining absence felt like they were traveling with eight less people. Thanh had given My Ling a compass and showed her the azimuths. He also said, if the phones were working, he would try to call ahead and tell his contacts to be on the lookout for her.

  The group travelled under the cover of night. My Ling’s concerns were not just gangs or enemy soldiers, but walking into poisonous bamboo vipers, stumbling into a tiger’s lair, being attacked by startled monkeys, or wandering into a mine field. Thanh told her to stay out of open meadows, off main roads, and not to walk well travelled paths.

  My Ling had joked, “So, we’re using jet packs?”

  “You’re going to find out something most people don’t know. If you machete a path, you’ll scare off animals and you won’t encounter mines,” Thanh informed.

  “But, it will take longer.”

  He replied, “You got a train to catch? Also, you’re usually safer in creeks and rivers.”

  The sojourners walked for miles along a creek bed that ended just outside the Phnom Koulen National Park. The night was moonless. When they stopped to rest at the end of the creek they all heard whispered, “Tiger Girl.”

  From behind trees, out from bushes, and rising up from leafy coverage appeared twenty men.

  “We are friends of Thanh. We are the Pear. He contacted Cham in the next district and they notified us. We’ve been waiting a days for you. We were afraid we missed you and you had gone into the Phnom Koulen. There are soldiers and Khmer fighting there. It will take longer, but we are going around Koulen to the north into the Dangrek Range. It is safer and we know the secret passages into Thailand. Here, let us carry your things,” the leader said. “You can call me Samre.”

  They handed their backpacks and totes to the men. Tu and little My Ling were hoisted up and carried on the backs of two men.

  “Our village has been waiting your arrival, Tiger Girl. We will rest there for three days. The climb through the Dangrek is hard and you will need your strength,” Samre said.

  They climbed out of the creek and walked up steep passages to the village. When they arrived, three hundred people were waiting to greet them. Samre stepped aside and let My Ling walk first. A chorus of chants arose from the villagers with an occasional “Tiger Girl.” My Ling and the others were escorted to an open-sided thatched roof held up by tree poles. They sat cross-legged on mats and were served fruits, milk, and meat. The entire time they ate the villagers stared at My Ling and little My Ling.

  “We have heard for years the stories of Colonel Cin and have great respect for him and what he tried to do for all native peoples. Our people, the Pear, have been treated badly for many, many years.” Samre continued, “The Khmer People call us “monkeys” or “people with tails” because we are darker. We live a peaceful life and want to be left alone. But they won’t leave us alone. So, we learned to become invisible. Look.”

  My Ling and the others watched the forest that ringed the clearing. They saw trees, bushes, vines, and foliage. The girls gasped when it appeared as though bushes shimmied, vines unwound, and tree bark walked off of trees as fifteen men, women, and children stepped out of the forest. They were not covered in camouflage or paints. They had relaxed into shapes that were impossible to distinguish from the natural fauna.

  “We teach the children when they are very young how to become the forest and to breathe very slowly. This is how we survive,” Samre finished.

  When My Ling and the girls finished, Di.u whispered in her ear.

  “You should play for them,” Di.u suggested.

  My Ling took the violin out of the case and turned to the assembled Pear. She surprised Di.u by announcing, “We have an accomplished girl who wants to play something for you.” She then handed the violin to a reluctant Di.u who held back, while a persistent My Ling pushed the bow into her hands. An embarrassed Di.u stood up with the violin and worked the small tuners.

  “Take a deep breath…relax,” My Ling counseled.

  Di.u exhaled, drew the bow across the violin’s string for the opening note of Adoration and as the Pear listened, their expressions softened. They had never seen a violin nor heard the sounds that enveloped them so completely. The children were drawn from their mothers’ laps to kneel near Di.u trying to fathom what was happening. They saw a swaying Di.u with eyes closed, and thought the instrument had taken her over and a divine presence was creating a magical resonance. When she finished, the Pear chanted and the children looked, not at Di.u, but at the instrument, as though Di.u was the owner of a magical vessel that held a musical spirit.

  They had seen weapons, machines, vehicles, and instruments of war. They had heard chanting, drums, gu
nfire, and explosions, but none of what they had seen or heard had the emotional effect on them as the enchanted, transcendent sound that emanated from this wooden box. This magic was the most powerful thing any of the Pear had ever experienced. The story of this night was told and retold amongst the tribes of this remote area of Cambodia and Thailand: the voice of an ephemeral spirit was coaxed from a wooden box by the divinely inspired “Tiger Girl.”

  They were escorted to a hut, where they lay on mats, covered with lightly woven blankets, and left alone to sleep. They slept on and off for the next three days. The journey from northeast Cambodia to the border of Thailand took twenty-one days and was hardest on Tu and little My Ling. The group could have arrived at this destination a week earlier, but the two children slowed them. On the night of the third day, Samre told them of the next day’s journey.

  “We will stay in the deepest part of the jungle to avoid contact with the Khmer gangs or soldiers. There are problems in the Dangrek range, so we will go through the Cardamom Mountains which sit on the border with Thailand. We’ll take you to the Mon tribe a few kilometers inside Thailand. We have known them for generations and we work together when we need to hide from the gangs,” Samre informed. “They will take you further into Thailand and tell you how to get to Bangkok.”

  The next morning they started a fifteen-mile trek north to the Cardamoms. They climbed the mountains to an elevation of fifteen hundred feet.

  Samre informed them, “There were many people killed here by the Khmer Rouge who also planted landmines. There will be times we will have to walk in a single line. It is important that you don’t step out of that line.”.

  After walking for three days, they crossed the border into Thailand. They hiked for another day, and at designated rendezvous, met a Mon tribe, the entire tribe. The men, women, and children of one of the smallest indigenous tribes in Southeast Asia, that some thought did not actually exist, showed up dressed in their finest attire. They were in awe, as were the Pear, to have the widow and daughter of Colonel Cin in their presence. They bowed and placed flower garlands around the traveler’s necks. They led them back to their small village and fed their honored guests along with the Pear. The Mon performed a ceremonial dance and other ancient rituals to ward off evil from attacking the travelers.