Moon Bear Page 13

  “Tam,” he said. “Did your grandfather say that Noy left us?”

  I looked at Grandfather.

  Noy’s brother took another swig of whiskey. “Noy wanted to make his way in the city.”

  I stared at my hands.

  “I thought he might have tried to find you.”

  I looked up. “Me?”

  Noy’s brother nodded. “He wanted what you had. He wanted to be his own man and work in the city.” He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “It was never enough for him here.”

  “I want to be here,” I said.

  Noy’s brother sighed. “For Noy, the rice grows better on the other side of the river.” He searched my face for news. “Have you seen him?”

  “I haven’t,” I lied. I stared hard at the space between my feet, at the circular knots of wood. I hoped Noy’s brother wouldn’t see through my lies. But maybe he’d had too much rice whiskey to notice.

  He leaned back and sighed. “Then we must hope that, like you, he will come back to us one day too.”

  I glanced sideways at Noy’s brother. He was no longer the boy who would be chief. He was just a boy searching for his brother. A brother who, I knew deep down inside, would never return.

  I woke to a breakfast of noodle soup and cold rice from the night before. I’d slept deeply through the darkness and silence of the village night, woken only by the cockerels and the village dogs. Grandfather wiped sticky rice from around his bowl and licked his fingers clean. “Tam,” he said. “I think you and I should go to the rice fields today.”

  I looked at Ma. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to go back to the place where Pa had died.

  “They cleared the bombies,” said Ma. “It’s safe now.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Grandfather stood up. “Come with me, Tam. Maybe it will not feel so bad after all.”

  I followed him out of the house, and we walked along the road up toward the ridge and the paddy fields. Sulee and Mae followed. Ma had dug a small vegetable garden and herb patch in the land behind our house. I could see the stalks of lemongrass and the deep greens of coriander and the deeper green of mint.

  People waved from their houses and vegetable plots.

  “There are new people here,” I said.

  Grandfather nodded. “After the sickness, another village was moved to join this one.”

  “Does everyone get along?”

  “Most of the time,” said Grandfather, “although Noy’s brother and the other village chief do not always agree. Their chief is older and likes to get his way, and Noy’s brother is still young.” Grandfather smiled. “He has time to learn.”

  I stopped at the foundations of the school General Chan had proudly shown us. Grass and weeds crept across the concrete base.

  “General Chan promised us a school,” I said.

  Grandfather walked on. “General Chan promised a lot of things.”

  I jogged to catch up with him.

  “The teacher left because she was not paid,” he said. “She never came again. When we asked for doctors, they sent one, but two weeks too late. General Chan promised extra rice, but it never came. You cannot eat promises, Tam.”

  We walked on in silence. The path curved upward to a long ridge and to our paddy fields. The sky was a deep blue, the hills a smudge of green.

  “You were right, Grandfather,” I said. “We should have stayed in the forest. One day we will go home. All of us. We’ll go back to the forest.”

  Grandfather sighed. “Soon there will be no forest, Tam.”

  I stopped and he turned to face me. “No forest?”

  “The logging company cleared the hillsides on a scale I had not thought possible. You would not recognize it now. They are going deeper and deeper in.”

  “But they were only building a road,” I said. “Why do they clear the forest to build one road?”

  Grandfather looked at me. “Tam, trees are money. They are cut and loaded onto trucks for Vietnam and China, America and Europe. I saw it with my own eyes. We may have no home to go back to.”

  I stared hard at the red earth beneath my feet. No forest? No home? What about Sôok-dìi? How would I get him home? Surely there must be forest higher in the mountains.

  “Come,” said Grandfather. “Let me teach you how to farm lowland rice.” He smiled, showing his teeth, red from years of chewing betel nut. “I am learning, and I am an old, old man.”

  I had dreaded walking up onto the ridge and seeing the field where Pa had died. But it had changed so much since then that it seemed a different place. The fields were thick with growing rice. There were a few people in the fields, their wide-brimmed hats keeping off the sun. A few children ran around knee-deep in water with tins full of frogs they’d captured for their supper. Mae and Sulee ran off to join them. Beyond our field I could see fruit trees planted on the low rise of the hill.

  “They will not fruit for another year,” said Grandfather, “but in two or three years there will be a good crop.”

  “Pa thought we would keep bees,” I said. “He said we’d keep them beneath the fruit trees and collect their honey and sell it to the markets.”

  Grandfather rubbed his chin but didn’t answer.

  I looked across the rice field to see Mae and Sulee bent double over the water. What if there were still bombs here? What if there were some that hadn’t been noticed? I clenched my hands in tight fists. Sulee plunged forward in the water and held up a frog.

  I couldn’t help grinning. Mae took it from her and put it in their jar, and they both went back to frog hunting again.

  That night I sat with Ma and Grandfather and Mae and Sulee outside our house. We ate rice and salad and frogs on sticks. The lamplight burned low and soon fizzled out. We sat beneath a full moon, so bright it seemed almost like day.

  Ma pushed more rice toward me. “Eat up, Tam. You must be hungry.”

  I rolled another ball of rice in my palm, but my throat felt dry and clogged. “I must go back,” I said. “I must go back on the first boat at dawn.”

  Ma stopped eating.

  Grandfather looked between us. “There is no need, Tam. The Doctor is a greedy man who does not pay you. You are better off here where you can help in the fields.”

  Ma nodded. “There is nothing for you there.”

  I closed my eyes and thought of Sôok-dìi, his nose pressed against the bars, waiting for me. I thought of him trapped inside his cage and the Doctor using him for his bile. I thought of the life he’d never have. I thought of the promise I’d given him.

  I put my rice down and looked up at Ma. “I have no choice,” I said. “I must go back.”

  It was hard leaving Ma and Grandfather and my sisters, but it would have been impossible to stay. Ma was angry. Mae and Sulee were crying and holding on to me, but I think Grandfather understood. He walked with me to the Mekong and stood watching as the riverboat slipped out into the river and into the swirl of downstream currents. I watched him until the boat turned a curve in the river and forest and high mountains surrounded us. There were still forests, I said to myself. And somehow I would make sure Sôok-dìi made it back.

  The riverboat didn’t arrive in the city that night. The engine kept stalling, and we limped into the city the next day at dawn. I raced through the streets. If the Doctor arrived early, he’d be mad if I wasn’t there. I ran past the monks collecting alms, and through the maze of stalls setting up for market.

  I was relieved to find the gates of the bear farm locked. The Doctor hadn’t arrived. I grabbed the keys from my room, where I’d asked Kham to leave them, and slipped through the gates, closing them behind me. Inside the barn the bears hooted and scuffled in the darkness. Kham said he’d feed the bears, but they wouldn’t have been cleaned out since I left, and I knew there would be mess. It couldn’t be helped. I just hoped I could clear some before the Doctor arrived. I flicked the lights on and stared around. Kham hadn’t only fed and watered the bears, but he’
d cleaned them too. The barn was spotless.

  Sôok-dìi hooted and spun in his cage when he saw me. He pawed at the bars, trying to squeeze his way through. I wanted to let him out, let him charge around in mad circles, but I knew the Doctor could come in at any second. I scratched Sôok-dìi on the head and around the ears and he turned over, letting me run my hands across his belly. I reached into my pocket for the small papaya Ma had given me. I’d saved it for him.

  Sôok-dìi nosed in my hand.

  “Mountain Boy!”

  I turned my back to Sôok-dìi and hoped he’d eat the fruit without the Doctor noticing.

  But the Doctor wasn’t interested in Sôok-dìi. He turned to Biter and bashed his metal bar against the cage. Biter threw himself at the bars, snarling and clawing at the Doctor. “General Chan is coming today,” the Doctor said.

  I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or to Biter.

  “So we must be ready.” He bashed the bars again and Biter growled. “We must be ready to show we have the strongest bear.”

  Asang entered, carrying a sack of rice. “General Chan is here already,” he said.

  I looked beyond him through the sliding doors into the yard. General Chan had arrived. It was early for him. The morning still had the first cool of the day. I saw his daughter get out of the car too. I looked for her friend but couldn’t see him.

  “My daughter is very sick,” I heard the general say.

  The Doctor bowed. “I am very sorry.”

  General Chan wiped his face with his handkerchief. He paced around, his face hot and reddened. “You said yours was the best bear bile.”

  The Doctor smiled. “But of course.”

  “Then why,” scowled General Chan, “is my daughter getting sicker?”

  The Doctor smiled again and bowed his head, but I could see his knuckles whiten as he clenched his hand around the iron bar. His eyes darted side to side.

  “My physician says that I should look elsewhere for bear bile. He says these bears are old and that you milk them for their bile far too often.” General Chan held up a vial to the light. “See,” he said. “It should not be dark and sludged like this.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Savanh climb out of the car. The driver helped her out, and she edged across the yard. She looked frailer than I’d seen her. Her skirts flapped loose around her thin legs.

  “Please come this way,” said the Doctor. “See here.” He banged the bar against Biter’s cage. Biter snarled and lashed out. “See we have the strongest bear.”

  General Chan snorted. “This bear is old. He has no teeth or fur to speak of. He knows how to snarl but that is all. I know many men like that, all cowards.”

  “I have many bears,” said the Doctor. “Maybe you would like to try another?”

  General Chan’s eyes came to rest on Sôok-dìi. “What about this one?”

  I felt my heart thump in my chest.

  “He is too young.” I blurted the words before I could stop them.

  The General turned to look at me. He frowned. “The bear boy from the forest!”

  I stared at the floor and wished I had said nothing. So he did know who I was.

  “Has this bear been milked before?” asked General Chan.

  The Doctor looked between General Chan and Sôok-dìi, as if trying to work out the right thing to say. “This bear is young and healthy,” he said. “No one has yet tasted his bile.”

  General Chan rubbed his chin and nodded. “Then this is the one.”

  Sôok-dìi had finished his papaya and was pushing his nose through the bars. I felt sick. I wanted to take him away right then. I wanted to unbolt the cage door and take him and run.

  “A good choice,” said the Doctor. “Asang!” he shouted. “Take General Chan to the milking room and get the pumps and ultrasound ready. We will milk the cub.”

  I watched General Chan follow Asang and the Doctor to the treatment room. I put my hands on the lock to Sôok-dìi’s door. Maybe I could just go. We could leave right now and earn our money on the streets. I pressed my head against the bars, and Sôok-dìi pushed his tongue out and licked my forehead. But I knew it was no good. The Doctor would find us, and I wouldn’t see Sôok-dìi again.

  I heard the Doctor’s footsteps and turned. He was walking toward the cage with a syringe and his metal bar in hand. I faced him, my back to the cage door.

  “This bear is too young,” I said. The words sounded loud and more confident than I felt inside.

  The Doctor stopped, syringe in hand, and stared at me.

  “He is too young,” I said.

  The Doctor spat on the floor. He jerked his head. “Move away, Mountain Boy.”

  I spread my arms out across the bars. “No.”

  The Doctor clenched his jaw. A small blood vessel pulsed on the side of his forehead. He took one look behind him, toward the closed door of the milking room, and stepped forward. “Move away, Mountain Boy.”

  I gripped the cage, holding myself against it. I saw the metal bar and then lights. An explosion of lights inside my head. An explosion of pain. I felt my legs buckle, and I fell in slow motion, my head tipping back and back and back, until I felt the crack of it hitting the floor. I could feel warm blood seep through my hair. The last thing I saw was the Doctor standing over me, Savanh watching, hidden in the shadows, and bright stars spiraling into darkness.

  When I woke, one eye couldn’t see. I was flat on my back on the concrete. I looked through the other eye through a haze of red. I looked up to see Sôok-dìi’s cage door wide open and empty. I tried to lift myself from the floor, but nothing would move. My body didn’t feel like mine at all. It felt heavy, useless, pressed against the floor. I turned my head and saw Biter in his cage, watching me, his dark eyes fixed on mine. It seemed we watched each other for a long while. It was almost as if I could feel him somehow, as if he was saying, Get up, get up and fight again. Never give up. Never. I could hear his breath whistle through his nose. I tried to lift my head, but the pain shot through me, and I let the darkness wrap around me again and pull me down.

  “Tam!”

  I woke again, to cold water on my face. I opened one eye and watched Savanh dab her hankie on the end of a water bottle and trace it around my face. She dabbed the eye that wouldn’t open, and I winced.

  “Sorry,” she said. She ran her fingers all around my eye and across my cheek. “I don’t think it is broken.”

  She helped to sit me up against the wall. I touched my face and felt the swelling across my eye. No wonder I couldn’t see. I looked across to Sôok-dìi’s cage, but the door was still open.

  “How is Sôok-dìi?” I said.

  Savanh didn’t answer. She lifted up my chin to wash the blood away. She smiled. “You are a very silly boy. Do you know that?”

  I didn’t smile back. I pushed her hand away and stared down at my own blood soaking into the concrete, a dark crimson stain.

  Savanh sighed. “The Doctor is bigger than you, Tam. He is crazy, too. What were you thinking? Why did you even try to stop him?”

  “I had to,” I said. I spat a lump of blood from my mouth onto the floor. I looked up at her. “Who will speak for the bears, Savanh? Who will speak for them, when they have no voice of their own?”

  “What happened to you?”

  I’d tried to sneak across to my room, but Kham’s mother had already seen me. She called me into their kitchen. I tried to cover the swelling across my eye.

  Kham looked up from his homework. “Tam . . . your face!”

  Mrs. Sone took my arm and brought me under the light and touched around my eye. I winced. She yelled to her husband out in the yard.

  I heard the clank of a wrench touch the floor and heard his footsteps come into the room.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Just fine.”

  Mrs. Sone held my chin up to Mr. Sone. “Just look at him.”

  Mr. Sone frowned. “Tell us what happened, Tam.”

  “It was my fault,”
I said. “A bear knocked me.” I looked at Mrs. Sone, but I could tell she knew it was a lie.

  Mrs. Sone put her hands on her hips. “Tam, who did this to you?”

  “It was my fault,” I said. I stared at the floor.

  Mrs. Sone shook her head. “I know who did this,” she said. She pulled a tray of fish from the fridge and sat down at the table. She waggled a knife at Mr. Sone. “It’s just not safe there,” she said. “He’s gone too far this time. It’s no place for a boy.”

  Mr. Sone sighed and wiped the oil from his hands. “It isn’t for us to get involved.”

  Mrs. Sone shook her head. “We can’t let him work there. Look what has happened. If it were Kham, what would you do?”

  “The Doctor’s father brings in half our work. It’s not for us to interfere.”

  “Mountain Boy!”

  We hadn’t heard the Doctor come to the door. Mr. Sone fell silent and turned the oilcloth around and around his hand.

  Mrs. Sone glanced at her husband. “What can we do for you, Doctor?”

  The Doctor looked at me and then at Mr. Sone. He stepped across the room and touched my face with his hand. “How is your face, after your fall?”

  I stepped back. “It is fine, thank you, Doctor, just fine.”

  The Doctor smiled his thin hard line. “Good. Well, I have this for you.”

  He handed me an umbrella, bright pink and laced with gold lace. “It belongs to General Chan’s daughter. She left it behind today and has asked it to be returned tomorrow morning to the house. The address is inside.”

  I took the package and watched the Doctor walk away.

  Kham’s mother brought the knife down on the fish’s head with a loud thwack. “It’s just not safe there. It’s no place for bears, either.”

  That evening, I sat with Kham beneath a dome of light from the oil lamp he’d brought with us into the bear barn. Sôok-dìi wouldn’t come out of his cage. He’d taken most of the day to come around from his deep sedation. He’d woken and stayed hunched against the back of the cage, showing the whites of his eyes and hooting at us when we tried to coax him out. He hadn’t even touched the overripe bananas we’d pushed in for him. I’d lost his trust. It was as if he knew I couldn’t protect him anymore. Maybe he even thought I’d been the one to hurt him.