The Gift of Rain: A Novel

by Tan Twan Eng

  him.” She looked at me briefly, and in her eyes I saw a warning to me not to stand in her way.

  But Kon was firm, and sent her off.

  “The baby?” I asked.

  He nodded slightly. “She bled all the way back here. And she’s changed after the experience. She hates everything and everyone now. I think Su Yen lost more than the baby when the midwife worked on her.”

  I really did not want to hear any more. I wanted desperately to get out of the forest. It frightened me, this vast, endless yet confined landscape without landmarks I could recognize. I would not have survived for long here and my respect for Kon grew stronger.

  We heard voices and laughter. “That must be Yong Kwan returning. Come on, let’s go back,” Kon said. He touched me on my shoulder and stopped me. “Don’t let anyone know Tanaka-san is my sensei. Yong Kwan will use it against me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Yong Kwan was a balding man in his late thirties, stocky, with hard eyes. Like almost everyone there, his MPAJA uniform had seen better days.

  I told him in detail about the ambush. “Saotome will be driven along the trunk road between Ipoh and Cameron Highlands, followed some distance behind by his troops. His intention is to lure you out and he especially wants Kon.” Here I saw Yong Kwan look displeased that Saotome did not consider him important enough to capture.

  “You’ll probably be informed as to when Saotome will arrive by his mole here. You have a traitor in your midst and you can only catch him when he brings you the news,” I said, as I concluded. “Now I must return to Penang. Please get one of your men to take me back.”

  He shook his head and pointed to two of his guerrillas. They came behind me and held my arms. One strung out a coiled rope and tied my hands together.

  “You’re a well-known collaborator. We’re not letting you leave until we’re certain of the truth of your claims.”

  I swore at him. He stepped up and swung his palm against my face. I spun from the force of the blow and dropped to the ground.

  “Stop it!” Kon snapped. “He was sent by my father.”

  “Your father,” Yong Kwan sneered. “An old, powerless man, addicted to opium, a brothel keeper? Sending him to inform us? I have the security of the entire camp on my hands. He stays tied up until we get Saotome.” He kicked me when I attempted to rise to my feet.

  Kon made a move toward Yong Kwan, but I said softly in Japanese, “Let him be. I’m telling the truth.”

  The words, meaningless to Yong Kwan, infuriated him. “What is that Japanese spy telling you now? And you, are you also the Japs’ dog?” he asked Kon.

  Kon looked deliberately at every one of the men surrounding Yong Kwan and walked out of the cave.

  I lay trussed up on the ground the entire night. By dawn the next day I was cold and stiff. My bound wrists were sore and my ankles, where they had tethered me during the night, had started to bleed, staining the ropes. I was desperate to get away. I could not stay, for Yong Kwan would kill me. If I returned, Fujihara would kill me. I had been away from Penang for too long now and my absence would be noticed.

  I lay and thought about the consequences of my association with Endo-san. And I had not a shred of doubt that if death was to be my fate then I would rather that Endo-san end my life.

  Kon brought me a bowl of hot gruel, squatting down next to me as he fed me. He sent the sentry away. “We’ve received news. The contingent will be on the road in tomorrow at noon. Yong Kwan is holding the man who brought the information.”

  “Who is he?”

  “A rice farmer from a small village a mile from here. The village has been providing us with food and medical supplies. He’s admitted that he’s working for the Japs for the money.” He opened his knife and cut my ropes. “We’ll need as much help as we can get. You’ve seen Saotome up close, so you’ll have to identify him for us.”

  I got up, stretching my sore body. The sun was high as we made our way to the cave. A group of guerrillas surrounded Yong Kwan, who was pointing to a map. He saw us, but went on with his instructions. I saw that most of them deferred to Kon, glancing at him to see if he approved of Yong Kwan’s plan. But I thought it was simple and effective and so did Kon.

  “We divide into two groups,” Yong Kwan said. “One group takes out the car carrying Saotome and the other will deal with the truck carrying the troops. And you,” he pointed to me, “you’ll be in the team attacking Saotome. I want him alive.”

  “What about the soldiers guarding Saotome?” Kon asked.

  “The soldiers?” Yong Kwan laughed. “No need to bother bringing them back here.”

  “I’ll be in that team as well,” Kon said, his voice firm. We had both agreed that Saotome would probably place Tanaka in the same vehicle as himself.

  There were four people in each of the two teams. Yong Kwan led the first, with Kon and me and another guerrilla following behind him. The second team, which broke away from us after an hour’s trek, had three Chinese MPAJA guerrillas and a Malay. They would be stationed farther up the trunk road.

  We trekked through the jungle, our passage made difficult by the complete absence of tracks or paths. There was just thick, soggy undergrowth. Sweat soaked my shirt and the rifle sling. I had left my sword behind, which made the going easier. The mosquitoes enjoyed dancing around our faces, tormenting us. Once we disturbed a hornbill and it cried out, annoyed as it flew off, its massive wings sounding like a woman slapping wet clothes on river rocks. Soon the black-tarred road could be glimpsed through the low-hanging branches as we emerged from the jungle.

  Before the war, this road had been popular with people going up Cameron Highlands for their holidays. Yong Kwan had chosen to lay the ambush at the junction of the road to the Highlands. Cars always stopped here before turning. My father loved it up there, for it gave a welcome respite from the endless heat, and Isabel used to enjoy walking in the strawberry farms, the vegetable gardens and the misty, undulating tea plantations. I knew that around the bend was a hidden spot where a waterfall collected in a rock pool. We had had many a picnic there, swimming in the cold clear water, picking leeches off our bodies after the swim and chasing insects and butterflies. A feeling of loss lowered my spirits and Kon asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, just lost memories.”

  He understood. “The road to Cameron Highlands. You British had some good years here,” he said in an ironic voice.

  We slithered down onto the road and ran to the ditch on the opposite side. I checked my watch. It was half past eleven. We had assumed that Saotome would leave Ipoh in a few minutes and that it would take him three-quarters of an hour to reach the junction.

  We sat in the shade of the lalang, listening for the approach of the cars. Twice we heard the sounds of vehicles but they were small lorries, carrying only a few soldiers. I shook my head at Yong Kwan after checking them. There was a soft rumble and I lifted my head, but it was only thunderclouds in the sky.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t rain. It’s the time of the monsoon again,” Kon said, studying the sky.

  “You said yesterday the war would soon be over?” I asked, feeling hopeful yet apprehensive as to what the end of the war would bring.

  “I think so. We have other teams meeting British troops coming ashore from submarines off the Straits of Malacca. Arms and ammunition were stockpiled in the jungles by a few far-sighted men before the Japanese took over. How do you think we’ve managed to fight for so long? We’ll lead the British to these weapons and when we receive the order from Malaya Command in India, we’ll destroy every major Japanese installation and military facility.”

  I looked at my watch. It was noon and I was hungry. I was about to open my water bottle when I heard the whine of engines coming up the steep incline of the road.

  Saotome had made sure the guerrillas would not miss his importance, for the car was decorated with two flags proclaiming the status of its passengers within. As the vehicle slowed down at the ju
nction I gave a signal to Yong Kwan and we rose up from the ditch, pointing our guns at the car, surrounding it.

  Saotome opened the door and got out, looking distinguished in his formal uniform. His sword leaned against his thigh and his boots had been polished. He looked surprised when he saw me. “Well, young Philip. Imagine meeting you here.”

  He was unconcerned, knowing he had reinforcements behind him. At that moment we heard gunshots and he turned to look back along the road. We waited, then the first of the Chinese guerrillas appeared, lifting his fist into the air. Saotome understood what had happened and his hand went to his sword. Kon pointed his rifle at him and said in Japanese, “Don’t move.”

  “The White Tiger. Look what I have for you inside.”

  “Come out please, Tanaka-sensei,” Kon said. The door on the other side opened and I saw the shaven head of Tanaka-san. I did not bow to him and neither did Kon.

  The unexpected sound of lorries coming up the road stopped us. “More vehicles?” Kon said. Saotome smiled. And then the road was overrun with Japanese soldiers, and in the lead I saw Goro, charging toward me. Saotome had anticipated our plan.

  I fired a shot at Goro, but missed. Saotome reached again for his sword and I kicked him in the shin. He stumbled back, which gave me the opportunity to pull out his sword. I turned and faced Goro. Yong Kwan shot three soldiers and the Chinese guerrillas, hearing the gunshots, came running from behind us. Everyone began shooting. Kon moved next to me and said, “Take Saotome and Tanaka-sensei back to camp. Move!”

  I pointed the tip of Saotome’s sword into his throat. “Let’s go.” Tanaka was already climbing up the embankment into the jungle. I pushed Saotome up the same way and we stumbled into the slippery undergrowth. I lost my grip on the sword, and Saotome kicked it away. He opened his buttoned holster and lifted out his pistol but, at that moment, Tanaka pinched a nerve in Saotome’s neck. I saw his eyes roll up, and the lids come down, and he was unconscious. I picked up Saotome’s sword and tried to determine which way we should go. We lifted Saotome and made our way into the jungle. Behind us the shots had died off and it was suddenly quiet, the birds and the monkeys frightened away.

  “Do you know which direction we should follow?” Tanaka asked.

  “Not at all,” I said, trying to find some landmarks I could remember.

  I jumped when Kon touched me from behind. “I’ve wounded the officer but we’ve got to move faster. There were more soldiers coming up the road,” he said.

  “His name’s Goro and he knows me.”

  “Then you can’t go back to Penang,” Kon said.

  “I must,” I said. “My father’s all alone there.”

  They had lost two guerrillas but Yong Kwan was beaming widely. Capturing Saotome had given him an immense amount of face.

  We entered the camp and everyone hurried into hiding, knowing from past experience that the Japanese troops would soon start searching the area.

  “They won’t find this place,” Kon assured me.

  “What about their spy, the rice farmer?”

  “He’s dead. Yong Kwan killed him before we left.”

  As Saotome came to consciousness, Yong Kwan hit him across the face. Saotome rocked on his seat, his bound hands unable to rub the pain away from his cheek. He looked around and saw me. “It appears that Goro-san is not with us. Unless he is dead, your position would be very tenuous now.”

  I did not reply but walked to the entrance of the cave. “Where’s Tanaka-san?” I asked Kon. He looked around us and then said, “Come with me.”

  I followed him out into the clearing, where a small, heavily patched tent had been erected. Kon waved to the guard, opened the flap and we ducked inside. Tanaka, like Saotome, had been bound to a chair that had been crudely hammered together from a few pieces of planking.

  “Sensei,” Kon said.

  “Tanaka-san,” I greeted him.

  We untied his hands and he flexed them as he thanked us. He appeared not to have changed at all in the past few years, unlike Endo-san. I wondered what had happened to him, for I had not heard from him since our parting.

  “Did you go up into the Black Water Hills as you said you would?” I asked him.

  He nodded to me. “I went up into the hills and stayed there with the monks. I would not have come out again until all this insanity was over. But Saotome-san found me. How I do not know.”

  “It was my fault. I told Endo-san where you had gone,” I said.

  “No matter,” he replied.

  “Yet Endo-san wanted me to warn Kon and to rescue you. I don’t understand.”

  A look of forgotten happiness visited Tanaka’s face for a moment and I knew he was recalling the days of his youth spent with Endo-san. “After so many years, you should know your sensei by now,” he said.

  “He feels bound by the duty of his position,” I said, thinking carefully about what Tanaka said. “But the duty of friendship and the principles of his teacher also pull at him.”

  “And so, through you, he has found a way to harmonize the conflicts in his life,” Tanaka said. “When you see him again, tell him I have missed him. I have missed our evenings spent drinking and talking. When the war is over,” here he looked wistful, “when the war is over, we must all meet again, and talk, and drink as though we were young again.”

  “I’ll tell him, Tanaka-san.”

  He smiled an old man’s smile at Kon. “And how are you? I see you have done what you told me you would do. That is good. On behalf of my people, I apologize to you for the terrible things done here.” He bowed with difficulty.

  “Sensei, please,” Kon said, distressed.

  Tanaka let out a sigh and asked, “What is going to happen to me now?”

  “I’ll speak to the leader of the camp and get you released,” Kon said. Tanaka looked at him with concern. “Do not be too sure. In times like these, everyone wants us dead.”

  “You have my word I’ll get you away from here,” Kon said. I wondered what he had in mind. For as long as I had known him he had never made promises easily.

  An argument arose between Kon and Yong Kwan later that evening after the Japanese spotter planes had patrolled above us for an hour. The monsoon season chose to begin that night and the rain started to fall, gently at first and then heavier, until it was impossible to see into the darkness ahead. Through the violence of the storm we heard their voices. The guerrillas looked at each other uneasily and I remembered a Malay proverb taught to me by my father: When elephants in the jungle fight, the mouse deer suffers.

  Kon came out of Yong Kwan’s sleeping quarters. I put on a tattered raincoat that let in more water than it kept out and ran to meet him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Yong Kwan wants them questioned tonight,” Kon said.

  “Even Tanaka-san? But didn’t you tell him he is innocent?”

  “He doesn’t care. Yong Kwan is very much like the Japanese he loves to hunt. He’s also found out about my connection with Tanaka-san from Su Yen.” He paused for a moment and I saw that he was gathering strength to ask something of me.

  I stopped him before he spoke. “You don’t have to ask. I’ll do it. I’ll take Tanaka-san with me when I leave.”

  “Then I shall be in your debt. You don’t know how much Yong Kwan enjoys playing with his victims. I refuse to allow Tanaka-san to suffer. Take him back to Penang when you return. Hide him in the hills.”

  We sat around a cold dinner of yams and stringy wild-boar meat. There were a few British soldiers in the camp now, part of the advance team that had been recently deposited by submarine along the Straits of Malacca. Their sunburned skins marked them as new arrivals; the older European guerrillas all had a luminous pallor, like spirits of the jungle, the result of too much time spent in the half-light of the trees.

  “I have to leave as soon as possible,” I said to Kon. I was worried about my father. The fact that Goro had escaped meant he was already on his way back to Penang. He had seen me, and both Hir
oshi and Fujihara would use him in any way they could to punish me.

  “Then let’s go now and prepare Tanaka-san. I will show you the way to the main road,” Kon whispered in Japanese.

  We made our way to the tent where Tanaka had been kept. The ground was beginning to flood, turning into mud. The guard was not there and the tent was empty. We were too late.

  We ran back to the cave, Kon pushing his way roughly into the throng. At the entrance to a passageway one of the guerrillas stopped us. “You cannot enter. Commander Yong’s orders.” He raised a rifle at us. We waited, wincing at the screams that echoed through the cave. An hour later the prisoners were brought out, Saotome bleeding from his nose and mouth, his jaw broken. He was still conscious, and so was Tanaka, who could not walk, his legs broken by Yong Kwan. They were taken out into the rain and tied to a sapling. The rain fell harder, washing away their blood.

  “Keep them here for the night,” Yong Kwan said. “We will continue tomorrow.”

  We stayed in the rain as he returned to the cave. Kon took off his raincoat and placed it over Tanaka. “It will not be long now, sensei. Please have strength.” He walked slowly back to his tent and started packing.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You have seen his condition. He cannot make it out of here with only you to help him,” he said. “I think it is time I returned to Penang. I have been dreaming of home for some time now. I long to walk in my father’s gardens again, to walk in the streets of Georgetown.” There was a wistful tone in his voice, like a little boy who missed his bed and his home greatly. “I just want to go home. And anyway,” he looked up into the slopes of the tent, “I am fed up with this constant rain.”

  We waited the entire night but the rain never abated. Toward dawn he said, “Time to leave.” He found another piece of canvas and turned it into a coat. We went back into the rain, Saotome’s sword in Kon’s hand. I cut away Tanaka’s ropes with my sword and we lifted him up gently. I saw that he was bleeding badly from a stab wound which I had not noticed earlier. I tore off my shirt sleeve and tried to stop the flow of blood. He opened his eyes, and gave a weak nod.