Moon Bear Page 8

  “My friend,” said Kham, pointing at me, “would like some powdered milk for his baby sister.”

  My eyebrows shot up my forehead.

  Sôok-dìi gave a mewling cry, and the shopkeeper latched her eyes on the basket.

  “His mother is too sick to come,” Kham added.

  Other customers turned to listen too. One lady smiled and tried to peer inside the basket.

  The shopkeeper’s face softened. She reached up behind her and pulled two boxes. “Newborn or for six months plus?”

  I stared at Kham.

  “Newborn,” said Kham, nodding at me.

  I nodded too. “Newborn.”

  She held up a feeding bottle. “And one of these?”

  “No,” said Kham.

  “Yes,” I said.

  The shopkeeper looked between us and showed us the total on her cash register. I dug deep into my pockets and pulled out all the money I had. Kham counted it out.

  He glanced at me. “It’s not enough.”

  I looked at him. “It’s all I have.”

  Kham fished into his own pockets. “I don’t have any either.”

  Sôok-dìi cried out again, a strange strangled cry. I could see him wriggling from the blankets; a small black paw was free. The people in the line behind us were looking at the basket.

  I pulled the towel to cover Sôok-dìi. “It’s okay,” I said. I started backing toward the door.

  Kham glanced down at the basket. He pulled a sad face. “His sister has the sickness, too.”

  The shopkeeper put her head to one side and looked at me and then at the basket. “Here,” she said, lifting the box of milk and the bottle and stepping around the counter, “take this to your mother.”

  She smiled and tried to peer in the basket.

  “It’s catching,” said Kham, pushing me out of the door. “We’d better go.”

  “Thank you,” I called out, but Kham was already marching me down the road back to the bear farm.

  “That was close.” He grinned.

  “You lied,” I said. “To get the milk, you lied.”

  “It was a small lie.” Kham shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone lies, Tam. Anyway, you have your milk.”

  We walked fast. The basket was heavy in my arms, and I could tell Sôok-dìi’s cries were ones of hunger.

  “Where do you keep the cub?” asked Kham. “Where does he sleep at night?”

  “In a cage,” I said. “He sleeps in a cage next to the other bears.”

  Everyone lies, I thought.

  Even me.

  Kham came back with me to the bear farm to help me read the instructions for making up the milk from powder. Sôok-dìi sat between us on the floor.

  Kham looked beyond me into the bear barn. “They can’t escape, can they?”

  “There’s a bolt across each cage,” I said.

  Kham looked unconvinced. “My brother said that the last worker got mauled because a bear opened up its own cage and got out. Did you know that?”

  I looked at him to see if he was trying to scare me.

  He didn’t look like he was joking. “They can work things in their paws, bears. Can’t they?” he said.

  Biter’s cage had a metal peg through the bolt. Maybe it was Biter who had mauled a man.

  Sôok-dìi snuffled at my ankles and tried to chew my gum boots.

  “Come on,” I said. “We need to feed Sôok-dìi.”

  Kham held up the box of powdered milk and read out the instructions. I measured out the milk power and stirred it into warm water in the bottle.

  “How old d’you think he is?” asked Kham.

  I shrugged my shoulders. I tried to work out just how long it had been since I’d seen him in the bear den. “He must be about three months old,” I said.

  Kham frowned. “It says here that you’ll have to feed him every three hours.”

  “Every three!” I said. “How much do I have to give each time?”

  Kham turned the packet over in his hands, reading the words. “Dunno,” he laughed. “Doesn’t say anything about bears here.”

  I scowled at him and screwed the top back on the baby bottle. I shook the milk bottle and watched the powder dissolve into the warm water.

  “How you going to get him to drink that?” said Kham.

  I picked up Sôok-dìi and held him in the crook of my arm like I’d seen Ma cradle my baby sisters. I pushed the bottle nipple into his mouth. At first he pulled away, but the taste of milk was on his tongue, and he nosed forward trying to lick the nipple. Soon he put his paws on either side of the bottle as if holding it for himself and drank and drank until the bottle was empty. He still sucked the nipple as if he wanted more.

  “He’s still hungry,” said Kham.

  “I’ll give him some more later.” I remembered the way Mae used to be sick after feedings. I didn’t want him being sick too.

  I carried Sôok-dìi back to Mama Bear’s old cage. He was sleepy after the milk and the morning’s walk into the town. At least I’d be able to clean and feed the bears while he slept. I found an old plastic crate, lined it with the towel, and placed it inside the cage. He would be more comfortable in the crate than on the bare bars.

  I returned to the prep room to wash the bottle and find somewhere to hide the milk powder. I didn’t want the Doctor to see, in case he tried to stop me.

  Kham was in the prep room, pressing the buttons of the ultrasound machine

  “Don’t touch!” I yelled.

  Kham spun around and lifted his hands from the machine. “What does it do?”

  “It shows pictures inside the body. It shows the Doctor where the gall bladder is,” I said, “so he can push a needle right inside and drain the bile.”

  “Can you work it?”

  “Yes.” I’d learned which buttons to press when the Doctor scanned the bellies of the bears.

  “Well, come on then,” said Kham, getting up. “Let’s try it out.”

  I frowned. “You can’t just get the bears out and scan them,” I said.

  Kham laughed and lifted up his shirt. “Not the bears. Try me.”

  “You?”

  Kham lifted up his shirt. “Scan me.”

  I looked beyond the door to the empty yard. “Okay,” I laughed.

  I switched on the machine and watched the small screen flicker into life. I lifted the probe and rubbed some gel on its end and pointed it at Kham.

  Kham backed away. “This isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

  “Not this bit,” I said.

  Kham lifted his shirt again and I ran the probe across his belly. I’d watched the Doctor do this before. The probe slipped across Kham’s skin. The hazy white screen of his liver gave way to a round black hole.

  I stared at the screen. “That’s your gall bladder,” I said.

  “Where?” he said.

  I shoved my finger hard in his belly, “there!”

  “Ow!” cried Kham. He pushed me away. “That hurt.”

  “Mountain Boy!”

  I spun around. I hadn’t heard a motorbike arrive in the yard. I hadn’t heard footsteps on the concrete outside the door. My heart pounded in my chest.

  The Doctor stood in the doorway, the long metal bar swinging from his hand.

  “So this is what I pay you for. To play games?”

  I glanced at Kham, but his eyes were firmly on the floor.

  The Doctor had never visited the bear farm on weekends before. What was he doing here, now?

  The Doctor took another step toward me. “The bears are not fed. The floors are not cleaned. What do you think you are doing?”

  “The cub is well,” I said. “I’ve been feeding the cub.”

  The Doctor whipped the back of his hand across my face. “The cub isn’t earning his keep at the moment.” He spat on the floor. “And neither are you.”

  My cheek burned and my eyes stung with angry tears. I was angry at Kham, too. I shouldn’t have been playing around with him. He had nothi
ng to lose, but I had everything. My family needed me. Ma needed the money I earned.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I wiped the end of the probe and started to pack the ultrasound away.

  “Leave it out,” he snapped. “General Chan is coming shortly. Make sure you stay. I will need you to help me milk one of the bears, as Asang is not here today.”

  He turned and left the room, leaving Kham and me in deep silence. So, it was General Chan who ordered the doctor to come and milk a bear on a Saturday. It was just bad luck, bad timing it had to be now. My heart was still thumping in my chest, and my legs felt weak and shaky. My cheek ached from the sting of his hand.

  Kham stared wide-eyed after the Doctor. “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  I turned my back on him and turned on the faucets to wash the milk bottle. “Just go,” I said.

  “Tam, really . . .”

  “Just go,” I snapped. I swirled water into the bottle, the pressure making it splash out of the top. “You’ll get me in more trouble if you stay.”

  I shook the bottle hard, listening to his footsteps fade away.

  How could I have been so stupid? Of all the times the Doctor could have come back, why now? I rinsed the bottle, hid it at the back of a cupboard, and went to feed the bears.

  The bears were restless. Mama Bear’s cub swayed faster to and fro. Jem and Jep copied him, swinging side to side at the backs of their cages, grunting and hooting. I turned on the hose and flushed the water beneath the cages, washing out the night’s remains. I was glad I hadn’t given them fruit the night before. I didn’t want the Doctor to know I’d been giving them extra treats. I brushed down the concrete, flushing all the waste into the drains, careful to keep out of the Doctor’s way.

  The Doctor seemed restless too. I could see him pacing in the yard, checking his watch. He stood back and slicked his hair as General Chan’s car slid into the compound. The driver climbed out of the front and opened the passenger door. General Chan brushed his trousers and stepped across the yard, careful where he put his feet.

  The Doctor went to greet him, and then instead of taking him to the office, they walked toward me, toward the bear barn. General Chan’s gaze passed over me. He frowned as if he knew me from somewhere but couldn’t place me. I wanted to ask him how my mother and sisters were. But I knew we were probably nothing to him.

  General Chan walked with the Doctor along the row of cages, stopping to inspect each bear. He stared in at Mama Bear’s cub. “The pills and powders you sell me are not working.”

  The Doctor clasped and unclasped his hands. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. “My bear bile is of the very best quality,” he said.

  General Chan prodded Mama Bear’s son. The bear moaned and turned away. “My daughter’s doctor says she must have the freshest bile from the strongest bear.”

  “They are all strong bears,” insisted the Doctor, “but let me show you my strongest bear.”

  General Chan followed the Doctor along the row of cages. The leather soles of the general’s shoes tapped on the concrete in the silence.

  When they reached Biter’s cage, Biter lashed out and clawed at the air. The general didn’t flinch. He stared at Biter and Biter stared back. Saliva frothed from Biter’s mouth as he pressed his muzzle against the bars.

  “This one,” General Chan said. “This one is a fighter. He’s the one.”

  The Doctor smiled. “A good choice.” He clapped his hands at me. “Boy, get the cart. We will milk this one.”

  I fetched the cart from the prep room and pushed it to Biter’s cage. The Doctor drew up the sedative and paced around Biter’s cage. Biter moaned and hooted and spun around to face the Doctor, clamping his teeth against the bars, his whole body shaking in fury. He lashed out at the injection on the long pole.

  But the Doctor was fast and practiced. He lunged the injection at Biter’s hind legs, and Biter snarled as the needle hit home.

  “There,” said the Doctor, smiling. “You see, he is our strongest bear.”

  General Chan nodded, and watched as Biter’s head dropped, his legs became shaky, and he finally slumped in the cage.

  The Doctor prodded him with the stick. “You cannot be too careful,” he said. But Biter didn’t move. His breath came out in a soft snore through the folds of his muzzle. I could tell he was deeply sedated. He’d gone into a deeper sleep this time, and I wondered if the Doctor had given him a bigger dose.

  The Doctor opened the cage door, and I helped to drag Biter out and slide him onto the cart. Usually Asang would do this, and I realized just how strong he must be. The Doctor and I hauled Biter out by his head and paws and wheeled him to the prep room.

  General Chan pulled out a chair and brushed the creases from his trousers. He took his gold-rimmed glasses from a case in the pocket of his shirt, put them on, and perched his hands upon his knees. He intended to watch the Doctor milk this bear.

  The Doctor dabbed the sweat from his face and tried to brush the black bear hairs from his white T-shirt. “A strong bear,” he said, patting Biter’s belly.

  General Chan stared, unmoved.

  I watched the Doctor run the probe across Biter’s belly and saw the black circle of the gall bladder come into the screen. He tried to puncture Biter’s belly several times before he found it. I noticed his hands were shaking, and he kept glancing at General Chan.

  “Ah!” he said at last. He fitted the needle to the pump and I watched the black sludge of bile track slowly along the tube into the flask.

  I hated watching this.

  Instead I fixed my eyes on Biter, on his massive bulk filling up the cart. His huge pads were like thickened leather. Reddened sores covered his elbows, and his fur was matted and stuck to the skin by a thin film of yellow pus. His open mouth revealed his broken teeth.

  I wondered if General Chan saw this. Did he see Biter as a strong bear, or as the broken warrior that he was?

  I helped the Doctor haul Biter back into his cage and slide the bolt, locking him in. Biter’s great body was slumped against the bars. He was done for today.

  The Doctor lifted the flask of fresh bile up to the light. “The freshest bile. This will make your daughter better.” He ran his hands through his hair and smiled, but I noticed he couldn’t stop his leg from jiggling on the spot.

  General Chan seemed satisfied. He pulled a wallet from his pocket and put a roll of bills on the table. “I will be looking for my money back if this does not work,” he said.

  The Doctor smiled and bowed. “It is the best bile in all Laos,” he said. “I have many customers who return again and again.”

  General Chan snorted. “Maybe if it was that good they would have no need to return.”

  The Doctor smiled and bowed again, but did not say anything. I noticed the muscles in his mouth clenching tight against his jaw. Maybe he didn’t trust himself to speak.

  General Chan took the flask and swilled the green sludge around inside. “I hope for your sake that this will work. I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell your father that you are no better at bear farming than you are at being a doctor.”

  I watched General Chan walk out into the bright sunshine of the yard. He had no claws or teeth. I doubted he could run or fight or survive within the jungle, yet here even the Doctor feared him. In his suit and tie, General Chan was the pin-striped tiger of the city.

  I hoped the Doctor would leave too. But he seemed in no mood to go. He picked up the metal bar and walked into the barn, swinging it and whacking it against the ground. I could see him stop by Biter’s cage. Biter was still under deep sedation. I turned away as the Doctor brought the bar down on Biter. I walked away so that I couldn’t see or hear.

  The Doctor finally emerged from the bear barn. His face was red. Sweat poured down his face. Veins bulged at his temples.

  He slammed the metal bar on the ground and turned to me. “Clean up the mess in there.”

  He swung his leg over his motorbike, roared out onto the r
oad, and was gone.

  I stepped into the bear barn. My heart thumped inside my chest. I hoped the Doctor hadn’t taken his anger out on Sôok-dìi. I found Biter groaning in his cage. One eye was open. The other was closed and puffed where his face had taken the Doctor’s blows. He struggled to lift his head. Drips of blood collected and congealed beneath his cage. I fetched the hose and let the cool water run across his swollen eye and muzzle. I nudged the hose into his mouth, hoping the water would soothe the bruises. Biter poked out his tongue to lick the water droplets from his nose.

  Biter had fighting spirit in him.

  But for how long?

  How much more could this big bear take?

  Kham and his family were eating their evening meal when I walked into the kitchen. I’d eaten with them every night since my accident. They’d welcomed me in and treated me like their own child. Kham’s mother watched me wash my hands and take a seat. She passed me a bowl of rice and meat salad. I could feel her eyes burning into me. Had she seen me carry the crate across the road? Did she know I’d brought the bear cub and it was in my room right now with the milk bottle and powdered milk?

  Kham had stopped eating. He stared down at his food.

  His mother leaned across to me. “Tam, how is the Doctor today?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  She glanced at Kham. “Kham says that you almost lost your job today.”

  My mouth went dry. Was she about to ask me to leave too?

  I noticed Kham’s eyes flit in my direction.

  “The Doctor was very kind,” I said. “He let me keep my job.”

  Kham’s mother looked at her husband. “Tam, if you find yourself without a job, then you can work here, at the garage. Mr. Sone will find you enough work to pay for your keep.”

  I looked up at her. “Thank you,” I said.

  She sat back and folded her hands across her knees. She looked at Kham’s brother. “Rami tells us General Chan visited the bear farm today.”

  Her tone was casual, but I could hear the questions in it.