Moon Bear Page 10

  Kham nudged me again. “They’re the ones we want to go for.”

  I followed his gaze across the road to the red-bricked plaza and gardens in front of the temple. There was a small group of gray-haired falang heading toward the temple. They wore pale short-sleeved shirts and long cotton trousers. Each one had a camera and a small bag. Their white skin was chili red where they’d caught the sun.

  “Probably Americans,” said Kham. “They have money. They feel bad about the bombies, so that makes them give more money, too.”

  I took a deep breath and put my hand out on the trailer. “They dropped the bombs?”

  Kham was staring at me now. “You heard about them?”

  “My father was killed by one,” I said. I rested my head against the trailer. I felt sick and dizzy. Sôok-dìi pushed his nose through the slats and snuffed my hair. His long pink tongue reached through and licked my face.

  Kham put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I looked up at him.

  “I didn’t know.” He frowned. “I thought . . .”

  I waited.

  Kham pushed his hair back. “Well, we were told your family had too many children and they couldn’t afford to keep you.

  I stared at him. “Pa died.” I said. “The Doctor sends my pay back to Ma and my sisters. It’s the only way they can keep the house and have somewhere to live.”

  Kham just stared at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

  “Come on,” I said. “Sôok-dìi will tear this trailer apart if we don’t get him out.”

  “Do you miss home?”

  I thought of Grandfather and Pa, I thought of Ma and my sisters and the forest tracks and our old home high in the mountains. “Always,” I said.

  I reached into my pocket for some honeyed nuts and undid the catch of the lid. Sôok-dìi pushed the lid up with his nose. I slipped the head collar over his head and hauled him out. He stood up, blinking in the strong sunlight, sniffing the air for all the new smells.

  On his hind legs, his nose reached just below my chest. He was five months old now, about the same weight as a sack of rice, but one with sharp claws and teeth. He liked to nip at my ankles, and I had to bat him away, as I imagined his mother would have. Kham led me across the road, and we sat down on a low wall in the square opposite the temple. I could see people looking our way.

  Sôok-dìi pressed against me, his eyes wide, watching all the different people. He scrambled onto my lap and clung around my neck, humming quietly in my ear.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  Kham nudged me. “Make him dance.”

  “He can’t,” I said.

  “Go on, make him stand up and walk around.”

  I stood up and pulled some cane toffee from my pocket. “Hup, Sôok-dìi,” I said “Hup.”

  Sôok-dìi rose up on his hind legs. I took steps backward holding the toffee in my hand. Sôok-dìi took steps toward me, flapping his paws. His round ears pricked forward, and he stuck out his long tongue, trying to reach the toffee.

  When I turned around, I saw that a small crowd had gathered behind us. Some people had their cameras out and were taking photos and filming. Kham stood in front of me.

  “Can you speak English, Tam?” said Kham.

  “No,” I said.

  Kham nodded wisely. “Then that is why you need me too.”

  “A dollar for a photo with the bear,” Kham called out in English. “Have a photo with the bear cub.’

  One lady stepped forward. She pressed some bills into Kham’s hand and came to stand beside me. I watched Sôok-dìi. I didn’t know what he would do. He’d never had a stranger this close before. If he bit her, we were in deep trouble. I handed her a piece of cane toffee for her to feed him. She wrapped her arm around Sôok-dìi and fed him the toffee while her husband snapped away with his camera. Sôok-dìi snuffled in her hand and tugged at her sleeves and the leather strap to her bag.

  “Any more?” said Kham, to the gathering crowd, ushering the lady away. “Anyone else want a photo with the bear?’

  “Thirty dollars!” said Kham. “Real US dollars!”

  We sat on the concrete floor of the bear barn. Sôok-dìi was asleep, his big head resting in my lap. He twitched and licked his lips in his dreams.

  Kham held a bag with two chocolate croissants in his hand, but he couldn’t stop staring at the money. “It’s true what they said about Sôok-dìi. He’ll bring us good fortune.”

  “Half each, you said,” I reminded him.

  Kham nodded. He started counting out the money into two piles.

  “And some for Sôok-dìi” I said.

  Kham looked up. “For Sôok-dìi?”

  “For his cane toffee and honeyed nuts. He won’t listen to me unless he has his toffee.”

  Kham nodded. “I guess it’s only fair.” He counted out some bills in a separate pile. “Cane toffee money,” he said.

  I picked up my pile of money. I’d never owned so much before.

  “What will you do with it?” said Kham.

  I flipped the bills in my hands. “Take it home. I’ll keep it and take it home to Ma.” I thought of the silks I could buy. My sisters could keep going to school. Maybe I’d even be able to go back to the village and visit them. “What about you?” I said.

  Kham rolled the bills and slipped them in his pocket. “I’ll use it to make more money.” He laughed. “That’s what you do with money. You use it to make more.”

  I yawned and stretched my legs out in front of me. I took a bite of the end of the croissant and chewed it slowly.

  “Next Saturday,” said Kham, “we’ll do it again.”

  “Okay,” I said. I yawned again.

  Kham took a bite of his croissant. “D’you like it?”

  I nodded and took another bite.

  Kham wiped chocolate from around his mouth. “My father says the cakes and pastries are the best things the French ever did for Laos.”

  My mouth was full of warm sweet bread, and the flakes of croissant were scattered on my chest. Sôok-dìi woke up and nuzzled into me, looking for crumbs.

  Kham rubbed his nose. “You know, we’d earn more money if you taught Sôok-dìi a few tricks.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he could dance to music? Maybe you could get him to jump through hoops.”

  I frowned “He doesn’t want to dance for his money. He’s not that sort of bear.”

  “Oh, come on, Tam; he enjoyed it today.”

  “He enjoyed the cane toffee,” I said.

  “Everyone loved him,” said Kham. He pinched my cheek. “They loved you, too.”

  I scowled at him.

  “It’s true. The Americans especially loved you. The lady with the big hair gave double.”

  “Just leave it,” I snapped. “I’m only doing it to get back home.”

  Kham chewed on the last mouthful of his croissant and watched me. “I’m sorry about your pa, really, I am.” He gave a half smile. “But you know, if you’d lost an arm or leg yourself from the bombies, that American would have paid you even more money. Guilt money. Maybe we could strap up your leg and pretend you had it blown up by a bomb?”

  I stood up and heaved Sôok-dìi into his cage.

  Kham got up to leave. He slapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “You’re not that sort of boy.”

  That night I lay on my mattress and stared through the high window. The sky outside had darkened. I didn’t want to switch the light on. I didn’t want anyone to see the money I had in my hand. Only Kham knew about the money, and I knew he wouldn’t tell. His Ma would stop him if she discovered his new moneymaking scheme.

  I couldn’t hide the money under the bed or keep it on me. I opened the small cupboard and brought out the empty honey tin. I opened the lid and pushed the bills inside. I stood on the table and reached up to wedge the tin between the brickwork and the metal of the corrugated ir
on roof. It couldn’t be seen from the ground. Someone would have to search the room to find it. It was the safest place for now.

  I lay back down and looked up at the rising crescent moon. I could hardly bring myself to think about it, but hope rose up inside me too. I wanted to believe it, for Sôok-dìi and for me. I wanted to believe there really was a way I could get us both back home again.

  I was sweeping the yard when General Chan’s car swept in to the bear farm. He stepped out and brushed the creases from his trousers. “I have come for more bile.”

  I glanced around, half expecting the Doctor to appear. “The Doctor is not here yet, but I can get you some bile from the office.”

  General Chan’s eyes rested on me for a moment. He looked at his watch. “When will he be here?”

  “Soon,” I said. “Soon.”

  The midmorning sun was hot. A line of sweat trickled down General Chan’s face.

  “Would you like to wait in the office?” I said.

  General Chan turned away from me. “I will wait in the car.” The driver opened the car door for him, and I felt a blast of ice-cool air in my face. I could see two people in the back, a boy and a girl, both older than me.

  General Chan climbed in and the driver shut the door, leaving the engine running.

  I walked back to the bear barn. I’d cleaned beneath the cages and sprayed the bears with water. I hadn’t fed them, since the Doctor said they produced more bile if they were starved.

  I hated this time, knowing the Doctor would arrive soon. I felt the fear run through me. I felt it in the bears’ pacing and restlessness. I paced with them, up and down the central aisle, counting the drainage grilles. One, two, three, four . . . turn . . . one, two, three, four . . . turn. The bears watched me. Sôok-dìi pushed his paw through the bars and tried to pat me as I passed.

  One, two, three, four . . .

  Turn.

  One, two . . .

  “Hello!”

  I looked up. I hadn’t heard anyone enter the barn. The girl and the boy from the car were silhouetted against the brightness of the open door.

  The girl stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Savanh.”

  I stared at her.

  I guessed she was sixteen, maybe seventeen. She was small for her age. Thin, too. She wore jeans and a white T-shirt. A silk scarf was wrapped around her head and fell down the back of her neck like golden hair. Her skin was the color of the rice moon. If this was General Chan’s daughter, then it was true. She was beautiful. Too beautiful, Ma would have said. Maybe she was sick because the spirits saw her from their heavens and wanted her back.

  She took another step toward me. “I wonder if we could see the bears.”

  I looked around. I couldn’t see General Chan. I guessed he was waiting in the car.

  The boy took a step into the barn too. He looked slightly older than Savanh. He wore jeans, too, and a leather jacket. His dark hair stood in sharp spikes on his head. He pushed his sunglasses up and looked around.

  “This is my friend Talin,” said Savanh.

  Talin didn’t look at me. He wrinkled his nose and turned to Savanh. “You don’t want to do this, do you?”

  Savanh turned to me and smiled. “Can we?” she said. “Can we see the bears?”

  I nodded. “Watch him, though.” I pointed at Biter. “Don’t put your hand through the bars.”

  I watched Savanh and Talin wander down the aisle. Talin kept checking his shoes, turning them over to see if there was any dirt on the soles of his bright white sneakers. He wrinkled his nose again and looked at his watch. “How long do we have to wait?”

  Savanh stopped at Mama Bear’s son’s cage and turned to me. “My father has a small zoo,” she said. “He rescues orphaned animals from the forest. We have birds and gibbons and deer, and even a golden cat.” She smiled. “Jean-Paul is still my favorite.”

  “Jean-Paul?” I said.

  “Jean-Paul is an old, old tiger. He has no teeth.” She watched Mama Bear’s son sway side to side. “Jean-Paul likes to pace up and down his enclosure. Up and down. Up and down. He paces so much, his feet carve deep trenches in the earth.”

  Talin walked away from us, staring into the cages.

  “I always felt sorry for Jean-Paul,” said Savanh. “I always thought he wanted freedom.” She smiled and looked at me. “But you know, one day the gardener left his cage door wide, wide open. He didn’t try to escape. He just kept on pacing up and down beside the open door.” She laughed. “My father says Jean-Paul likes the thought of freedom, but is too scared to take it. It is too easy being fed and watered in a cage.”

  I just stared at Mama Bear’s son rocking backward and forward.

  “What do you think?” she asked me. “Do you think he wants his freedom?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe he doesn’t know where to find it.”

  Savanh turned around to look at me. She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but turned back to the bears. She walked along the row, passing Jem and Jep, coming to stop at Biter’s cage. “How do you take them to their outdoor enclosures?”

  “What d’you mean?” I said.

  “Where they can stretch and play. We have a sun bear, and he has a garden with a pond to bathe in.”

  I stared at Biter, pressed against the bars. “This is it,” I said. “This is where they stay.”

  Savanh turned to me, eyes wide open. “Always?”

  “Always,” I said.

  Savanh stared along the line of bears. “I didn’t think it would be like this.”

  I walked away from her, and she followed me to Sôok-dìi’s cage. He snuffed the air and stretched his paws through the bars.

  Talin stood looking in, careful not to let his jacket touch the bars.

  Savanh’s face broke into a big smile. “This one’s just a baby.”

  “He’s five months old,” I said.

  Savanh reached in and scratched his ear. “Look, Talin, he’s very friendly.”

  Talin stepped between us. He was staring at me, looking me up and down. “I heard there were two boys and a dancing bear cub in town last week, outside Philippe’s. Dancing for the falang.”

  My mouth went dry. I stared hard at the metal bars, tracing the patterns of red rust with my finger.

  Talin leaned closer. “Wouldn’t be you, would it?”

  My breaths came short and shallow. “These are bile bears,” I said. “Not dancing bears.”

  Savanh looked between Talin and me. She laughed and nudged him in the side. “You like dancing, Talin. Maybe you could join them.”

  Talin scowled and flipped his sunglasses back over his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or not. Maybe that was what he wanted. “Look, Savanh,” he said. “Here comes your father.”

  Savanh looked beyond me to see her father, Asang, and the Doctor walking toward us.

  Mama Bear’s son hooted and pressed against the farthest space of his cage. The other bears moaned and shuffled.

  Savanh took my arm. “What’s his name?” she said.

  I turned to look at her. “Who?”

  “The bear cub! What’s his name?”

  “Sôok-dìi,” I said.

  Savanh reached through and ran her hands across the fur on Sôok-dìi’s back. I watched her eyes trace an arc from the bare bars of the cage down to the hard concrete floor beneath. She ran her hand to the softest fur behind his ears. She bent close down. “Sôok-dìi,” she whispered. “I wish you all the luck in the world.”

  I swept the yard after Savanh and her father and her friend had left. General Chan had wanted fresh bile for Savanh. I’d heard him tell the Doctor that she was getting sick again. Her doctors had made a special paste of herbs and lime juice to mix with the bile. She had to drink it straight from the bear, they said.

  I swept up and down, past the wide, open gates. Up and down. Up and down. Every time I passed the gates, I thought of Jean-Paul. He chose not to take his freedom. Why? Was he scar
ed? Was freedom just an idea, a thought, a feeling? Maybe he didn’t even know what freedom was. I’m sure Biter did. Biter paced the mountains of his mind. The dark forests burned deep within his eyes. But what about Mama Bear’s son, born behind bars? Was freedom just some deep restlessness inside? I thought of the wild pigs and the wild deer and how our ancestors had caught them and bred the freedom from them. The village pigs and buffalo didn’t want to escape. Their cages and corrals became their safety. Maybe it could happen with people, too. Maybe that was what Grandfather meant when he said we’d sold our freedom.

  I thought that maybe I should make my escape soon, before I too might forget.

  After another month, Kham and I had worked out our routine. We’d leave early with Sôok-dìi and cycle to our chosen site. We changed it all the time, in case Savanh’s friend saw us there. Philippe’s was always the most successful. The tourists liked to eat in the bars and bistros and watch us perform in the square across the road.

  I’d taught Sôok-dìi new tricks too. Kham persuaded me to dress Sôok-dìi in clothes. I hated it, but the tourists seemed to love it. Kham bought a lady’s dress and scarf to dress Sôok-dìi. Sôok-dìi even allowed me to put a pair of sunglasses on his head. He would reach out his lips and tongue and try to take the peanuts from my hand.

  “Okay,” said Kham, “Let’s do Philippe’s today. There’s a festival today. The city center will be mobbed.”

  I ran along beside him. Sôok-dìi had grown a lot in the last month. He was nearly six months old now, and he was discovering he could use his weight to push me around. I wondered how much longer we’d be able to take him into town.

  Kham pulled up in the alley behind Philippe’s. Madame Philippe saw us and brought us chocolate and almond croissants, warm and sticky from the oven.