by CW Ullman
“What are you going to do?” Ronnie asked.
“I am going to fly into Thailand and my Mani friends there will spirit me into Cambodia. You’ll fly into Phnom Penh and Tuyen will meet you at the airport and take you to the orphanage where I will join you later.”
Months passed as Ronnie learned Khmer and Vietnamese while My Ling became more familiar with Cecily’s unique abilities. She understood more about her ability and wanted to share with Charlie and Cecily’s mother, Molly.
“I think Cecily is actually seeing something all the time, and reveals it when she is with the person who is in the event. At her age now, she doesn’t distinguish between her imagination and the reel that is unfolding in her mind,” My Ling explained.
Charlie thought the statement was unintentionally profound: that the cascading events are revealed to Cecily when she is with the person in the pictures. For Charlie it meant a kind of present time consciousness. He thought how often he was with people while his mind was somewhere else; that life was unfolding while he was either in the past or thinking about the future and seldom focused on the here and now.
“As she gets older, she is going to lose this ability,” My Ling explained. “The vision diminishes the more she focuses on a result. It’s like a fisherman who throws a net and collects what’s in the ocean as opposed to putting a line in the water. That’s why she cannot predict lottery numbers, but it doesn’t mean she’s not seeing them. She may perceive an accurate set of numbers and see the winner, but she could not tell you when or where that will happen. Her vision is a kaleidoscope of images and when she tries to pick one out she can’t, or if you ask her what is going to happen tomorrow, she doesn’t know. To her, tomorrow is everything after right now.”
“So all of it goes away,” Molly asked.
“If she’s like the woman I knew who had this, she’ll have periodic flashes of the future, but even then there is a big margin of error,” My Ling replied.
Cecily, however, was innately brilliant in a way that would manifest later in her life.
My Ling left them and found Ronnie to see if he had his tickets and was ready to leave. He said he was packed, but nervous
My Ling called Thanh and informed him Ronnie would be arriving in three days
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By the end of 1993, My Ling had been in the United States for eight years. She often spoke about the problems and prejudices affecting indigenous people of Southeast Asia to individuals, civic groups, and government officials from Orange County, and human rights activists, but nothing happened. Sympathy for these native people never turned into action from Americans. She found out why when she talked to an American Indian.
“Money talks and bullshit walks,” stated Kyle Saubel of the Los Coyotes Band of Cupeno Indians. “After living on handouts from the U.S. government and the reservation, my people lost their spirit. While we thought we had our identity intact, we lost who we were. Having our land taken away was bad, being put on reservations was no good, but the worst was getting money for nothing.”
Kyle had left the reservation to get a college degree and become a sheriff in Orange County.
“We’ve become the Los Coyote Whiners: ‘Nobody respects us, we’re treated horribly, you’ve turned us into alcoholics, wham, wham, wham,’ We weren’t beaten by the U.S. Calvary on horseback, we fought back; we weren’t beaten by the theft of land, we launched raids; we were beaten when we accepted handouts. You want to subjugate somebody? Don’t beat or jail them, give them money – then you own them, The one thing they’ll excel at is whining.”
She realized the native Southeast Asians shared a similar history with the Native Americans. If there was going to be a change for the Cham, Montagnards, Perl, or Mani, it would have to come from them. At one of the chats of the Knights of the Fire Ring, My Ling brought up the tribal problems.
“It’s an extension of the plantation mentality. Some see it as a conspiracy to keep black families split up,” said Curtis, the one black member of the group.
“How do you break the cycle,” My Ling asked.
“It has to come from the group,” Curtis replied.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” My Ling sighed.
“It’s completely counterintuitive. People who want to help think we need to help the downtrodden, because they’re disadvantaged, they’ve had a horrendous history, they’re the wrong color, et cetera. I say bullshit.
“I use the Jews as an example. No matter how they were punished, where they were run off, all the miseries they suffered, they kept rebounding back; but only to a point. They were always on the lowest rung on the social ladder in whatever country they lived. But when they formed Israel they made a stand and in effect said, ‘no more.’
“What do you think would have happened to Israel if they had let somebody else build the houses, the farms, and the country? Let someone else defend its borders? None of what they have today would exists if someone just handed it to them,” Curtis explained
“What was Colonel Cin trying to do?” Ronnie asked.
“He was angry. He was angry at the Vietnamese, the Communists, the Montagnards, pretty much everybody,” My Ling explained. “About the only people he wasn’t angry with were the Americans.
“He was frustrated with the status quo of the Montagnards and wanted to retaliate against their oppressors. But the truth about Cin: he was a warrior at heart.”
“And his raids?” continued Charlie.
“He felt alive in the hunt and in battle. He changed after our daughter was born, but he still showed flashes of anger when Degars were mistreated or disrespected. It was probably just a matter of time before he would have taken up the battle again.”
Gaston added, “That’s what has to happen. People have to feel an outrage. Throughout history, people tolerate the worst treatment until one person, or a group, charismatically expresses the tribe’s frustration. Colonel Cin was not that, he was championing their battle. While he was inflicting damage on the oppressors, it sounded like he became Robin Hood against the Sheriff of Nottingham. To rally people to a cause, Robin Hood needed to be arrested by the Sheriff. That would bring people out of their homes to protest their hero’s incarceration. That’s when people rise up.”
There was an extended period of silence as the group watched the flames in the ring. Then My Ling slapped her hands, and blurted out, “That’s it!” She got up and hugged Gaston and said, “That’s what has to happened, I need to get arrested for killing the leader of the pirate ship.”
Everyone around the fire ring stared at her in amazement.
“With all due respect, are you crazy?” Ronnie exclaimed.
“Like a fox,” Gaston rejoined. “Think about what she had to endure from this guy: abuse, rape, thievery and witness killings. Think about what the native peoples in Southeast Asia are enduring: abuse, rape, thievery, and killings. There is no justice for them – ever. But their frustration will be embodied in this one person because of the place she holds in their hearts. The people will rally to her side.”
“Before you grab up Joan of Arc’s banner and ride into who knows what, let’s cover all that can go wrong.” Charlie suggested. “How exactly would this play out?”
“I fly to Thailand and I turn myself in for his killing,” My Ling stated.
“And, they kill you in the police station. Case closed,” Charlie reasoned.
“No, first you go to a newspaper and state your case, then you turn yourself in under the glare of the media,” Gaston reasoned.
“Then they kill you in the police station,” Charlie added.
“The media in Thailand is controlled more or less by the government,” My Ling said.
“You do it here. Go to the Los Angeles Times and tell them your story. You let them know that you took justice into your own hands because there was no one to help,” Gaston added.
“Will you shut up, for Christ sake,” Carlos angrily yelled at Gaston. “You’re going to get her ki
lled. They’ll figure out how to kill her; no one will know about it, and no one will do anything about it. Pardon me for saying this, My Ling, but these native people haven’t demonstrated a lot of leadership when it comes to their own plight. You literally could be Joan of Arc.”
“What happened to Joan of Arc?” My Ling inquired of the group.
Carlos spoke to Gaston, “Okay, Che Guevara, why don’t you fill her in.”
“She rallied the French army to win a number of battles during the Hundred Years War, which led to the coronation of King Charles the Seventh. She said all of her inspiration came from God,” Gaston finished.
“You left out the part about being burned at the stake,” Carlos added.
“I was getting to that,” Gaston continued. “The powers at the time did not like the influence she had over the citizens. She was accused of heresy and they put her to death. However, twenty years later she was found innocent of her crimes and was canonized a saint in the Catholic Church.”
“I’m sure she was real happy about that in her grave,” Carlos huffed.
“This isn’t fifteenth century France,” Gaston, the professor, continued. “With the right media coverage, My Ling would be protected,” Gaston finished.
“I want to be a fly on the wall when you drop this on Hao.” Ronnie joked, “Honey, I’m thinking of going to Thailand to be arrested for murder. And, what would you like for dinner tonight?” My Ling and the group laughed.
“There are so many ways this can go wrong and once the cat is out of the bag there is no going back. Worst case scenario is you’re tried for murder and nobody lifts a finger on your behalf; nobody rises up. It’s business as usual,” Carlos stated.
“Just going to Thailand brings thousands out to see the widow of Colonel Cin. But, I don’t want them to get slaughtered for rioting. I want this to be an organized uprising,” My Ling offered.
“If it launches in America, with massive media attention, and is rolled out correctly, it can be seen as a civil movement like Gandhi. There’s always the risk that the government overreacts, but if journalists from America and the world cover it, it might put enough pressure on the Thai government to lay off the heavy-handed stuff. If you keep drumming the word “peace” into everyone’s head, you’ve got better odds of controlling the situation,” Gaston offered.
“I don’t care if she descends out of the clouds like Jesus, this can’t be controlled. People are going to be killed and she could be the first one,” Carlos stated emphatically.
During a short silence My Ling looked over at Rusty whose melancholy expression touched her. She asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“Now I know what Darla was feeling when I talked about going to the orphanage. I don’t want you to die. I mean, we just found you,” he told her.
They all looked at Rusty who echoed their feelings. But if My Ling was determined to go to Thailand on a mission of this magnitude, exposing herself to violence for the greater good of a continent of marginalized people, they all innately knew they would be drafted as her protectors. Each one suspected this mission of mercy would end badly, but each one knew a call to duty.
Gaston saw it differently, “This has come full circle. Eighteen years ago on the Enterprise we were bonded together by the capriciousness of providence. It is now our destiny to finish what we started: to save this girl, except this time we will be the life jacket.” Gaston intoned as he raised his beer in toast, “To us, the fellow girls.”
They laughed, then in unison echoed, “The fellow girls.”
CHAPTER XIII
“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you take an ad out in the Voice of Cambodia and make sure the government gets a copy,” a sarcastic Hao offered. “Oh, I forgot, that’s your plan.”
“Okay, don’t go Vietnamese on me,” My Ling teased. “I want to minimize all the variables and before I declare my intentions, I will have this planned out completely. The people in Manhattan Beach are going to work with their congressman to get diplomatic passports that gives them certain political immunities and they’ll accompany me. Then I am going to do an interview with the Los Angeles Times which will be picked up by other media. When I finally go to Thailand, I will have as large a contingency of press going along. This is not a suicide mission.”
“Really? Because it sure as hell sounds like one,” Hao argued. “I am your husband and I refuse to let you go.”
My Ling’s reflex was to unload a verbal blast to his command, but she realized he was afraid.
“I promise I won’t go if I haven’t worked out all details. You know I have to do this,” My Ling soothed.
“I want to go with you. I was part of the killing,” Dao demanded.
“If you go, there are no guarantees of protection for you,” My Ling explained. “I don’t want you mentioned in connection with the killing. I want Di.u to come so she can testify on my behalf, since she was a witness to the abuse on the Thai pirate ship and the killing of her parents.”
“Why don’t you get a diplomatic passport?” Hao urged.
“I can’t be prosecuted as a diplomat,” she responded. “And I want to tell you this before someone else does: there are no jury trials in Thailand and they have the death penalty.”
Hao’s pinched expression went flat, “You’re going there to be martyred.”
“No, I’m not. I am going to meet with a lawyer who’s familiar with the judicial system in Thailand and get as much information as possible,” My Ling answered. “I want the selling of children into sex to stop and for women to have more rights. I want the native people to rally to a cause, to organize, to push for more recognition and representation I want the Cham, Mani, Montagnard, and Pear to stand up for themselves.”
“But, this…this…agenda you have; none of it may happen. The only thing that might happen is you’re convicted of murder and your followers just go home and light candles of devotion to you and Cin,” Hao ridiculed.
My Ling exploded, “You weren’t there, Hao. You weren’t there when a hundred thousand people showed up at his funeral. They were looking for a reason to throw off the shackles and my trial for killing a serial murdering rapist could be just the impetus for them to act. The Thai government is going to have to deal with me and if I’m right, this is going to alter the future for millions of children, woman, and native Southeast Asians.”
The tension hung in the room until a question came from the unlikeliest source, “Mother, but what if it doesn’t?”
My Ling was caught off guard by her daughter’s question. Little My Ling asked it in the smallest voice, but it resonated deep within her mother. “What if it doesn’t” carried the image of her rotting in a jail cell as riots go awry and the military kills thousands.
“You can’t do this the way you are right now, Mother,” Little My Ling continued. “You’ve told me a million times to have a clear-eyed vision of what you want, how you’re going to get it, and how you’re going to get there. You need to be realistic and strategize for every possible out come. You owe that to Hao, to all of us, but mostly to my father.”
Tears formed in her eyes as Little My Ling referred to her father. My Ling had never heard her daughter refer to Cin in this context. It made My Ling realize this was an exercise on the level of mobilizing an army and if it was not fully visualized, the whole endeavor could easily become a fool’s errand. She had to check herself to be sure she was not grandstanding for ego and history’s sake, but rather for lasting changes for the people of Southeast Asia.
Hao had composed himself and looked at everyone in the room: Trieu, Tu, Dao, Di.u, Little My Ling, and then his wife, “If you insist on doing this, for the sake of the people you’re trying to help, it cannot blow up or you will have made it worse for them. You have to bring your plans to us and we all get to weigh in with any objections we might have. You have to promise me…us that you won’t start any part of this until the entire crusade is thoroughly examined.”
There was a
moment of silence, My Ling got a slight smile on her face and said, “I like the sound of ‘campaign’ better than ‘crusade.’”
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Over the next several weeks My Ling met with a series of lawyers to learn what to expect once she admitted to killing the Thai pirate. Charlie’s dad, a chiropractor from Manhattan Beach, had a patient who was a well-connected publicist. When told of My Ling’s story, she promised to get My Ling interviews with the Los Angels Times, The New York Times, and NBC News. She also used her connections to arrange a featured segment on CBS’s 60 Minutes and an interview in Rolling Stone magazine.
Charlie, Rusty, Carlos, Ronnie, Curtis and Gaston flew to Washington D.C. and met with Congressman Jed Ullman. The process was made easier when Chief Biwer from Hermosa Beach contacted Congressman Ullman. The two had served together in Vietnam in the 173rd Airborne Brigade. After Ullman heard the entire story starting in1975 to when they were reunited in 1992, he decided to intervene on their behalf by escorting them to all the governmental offices that would come into play
Ullman took them to the State Department where they met with the Secretary of State who issued each one a diplomatic passport of special status that assigned them to the U.S. Embassy in Thailand. The six men learned that most diplomatic passports do not have immunity status, but because they were now considered employees of the State Department, they would have whatever protections diplomats were afforded
My Ling, her group, an attorney, a legal affairs attaché who was an expert on international law from State, and the publicist met to discuss what to expect once My Ling notified the government of Thailand that she was turning herself in for killing. The lawyer said she might be allowed to post bail once she was arrested and turn in her passport. Bail would most likely be set in the realm of three to five million baht, the currency of Thailand. One dollar equals twenty baht, so bail would cost between $150,000 and $250,000. Charlie said an oilman offered to cover her bail and the cost of her attorney.
“However,” the lawyer said, “They may not set bail; it is up to the judge’s discretion. If that happens, My Ling will be locked up in a Thai jail.”
