“Are you sure it’s safe there, Natalie?” Maman’s voice softened, yet she still sounded nervous.
“I’m fine, Maman. I have more of a chance of being hit by lightning than shot by a protestor. Believe me, I’m in the middle of nowhere. In the jungle. In the mountains. So far from Bangkok that most people here have only seen pictures of the city.”
Finally, Maman seemed convinced, so they spent a few moments catching up on family news, then Natalie reminded her mother how much this phone call would probably cost, which convinced Maman to say her goodbyes. Natalie hung up the phone in its cradle and rubbed her eyes before turning around to leave.
Seth sat facing her, his back and elbows resting against the table, his legs stretched out in front of him. He smiled at her sadly. She caught her breath. How much had he heard?
He patted the seat beside him and beckoned her over.
“Will you forgive me? When I arrived, you were in the middle of your conversation and I wanted to talk to you, so I sat and waited.” He wore a khaki shirt, sleeves rolled up, tail out, unbuttoned to the third button, and he hadn’t shaved, but instead of looking scruffy, he looked sexier than he had in that tux in Bangkok, if that was possible. She refrained from touching him.
“I was talking to my mother.”
“I got that.”
“What else did you get?”
“That she’s worried about you.”
“Hmmm. And?”
“That there’s something—no, someone—you haven’t told me about.”
He’d heard more than she wanted anyone here to know. Damn. “That’s true, but it’s not another man.” She took a deep breath and turned away. Tell him, her inner voice said. He’s going to find out anyway. But another part of her refused. “They’re my children, and they’re not something I want to discuss right now. I haven’t even had a chance to unpack.”
“I know this might be a bit too soon, Natalie, but I do care for you and . . .”
“—Natalie, I need to talk to you.” Mali suddenly stood behind them, wringing a cloth in her hands. Her face was streaked with tears.
Without thinking, Natalie left the tense discussion with Seth and went straight to Mali, enveloping the smaller woman in a hug. For several moments, Mali simply cried, but when she could finally get her breath, they sat down. Natalie glanced over Mali’s shoulder to see that Seth had left, always the gentleman, so they had privacy.
“What in the world has you so upset?” Natalie wiped Mali’s last tear away with her thumb, then caught Mali’s hands in hers. To see the normally strong and cheerful Mali disintegrating made her want to cry herself.
“Siriporn’s gone. He disappeared right after you left for Bangkok, and I know he’s probably down there . . . but now they’re saying that some of the protestors are dead, and he’s not bloody answering his phone, damn him, and none of his friends . . . none of them have seen him for the past couple of days. I talked to one of them only an hour ago.” She blew her nose and raised her black eyes to Natalie.
Natalie had seen that type of pain before. In the mirror.
She knew what it felt like to lose a son, whether to a senseless act of violence or to a choice the son made, a loss was a loss. “The last time they saw him, the army had begun . . .” Mali’s voice cracked again. “Oh, God, Natalie, they were raising their guns!”
“No, no, no, Mali. Don’t think that way. Listen, let’s sit down. Talk. Calmly. Tell me what happened.”
She steered Mali to the seat Seth had vacated. Mali wiped the tears from her cheeks with the flat of her palms.
“Right after you left, Siriporn came to me and told me he needed to return to Bangkok. I did not . . . I did not handle that news well. I’m afraid we got into a bit of a tiff.” She inhaled in a jagged fashion like a child who’d been crying for a long time. “He left without speaking to me. You weren’t here. Andrew had left. The only person I could talk to was Karina, and you know she’s not particularly fond of my son.”
Natalie restrained herself from grimacing. One thing she knew for sure about Karina was that she probably had never had a compassionate thought. Andrew, her older brother, had practically raised her, and she’d been by his side throughout the time he’d built his philanthropic empire. She believed his word was gospel, though everyone knew Andrew and Siriporn barely tolerated each other. Mali might have had no one else to talk to about her heartbreak, but she would have received more sympathy from one of the elephants than from Karina.
“I overheard her talking to Peter about my concerns later on after I’d asked her to keep it to herself, and you know me, Natalie, I prize my privacy so I confronted them. I’m afraid I could have used a bit more tact.”
“Tact? Do you really need to be tactful with those two?”
Mali shrugged with her palms up, ducked her head and gave Natalie a tearful grin. “Truth is, I was downright crude. I read them both the riot act for not being sympathetic. I believe I called them sub-human. By the time I finished, neither one of them would look at me straight.”
Natalie giggled. “I think I would’ve paid money to see that.”
Mali shook her head. “Maybe you won’t think it’s so funny if I tell you what happened after you all returned.”
Not much else would have surprised Natalie, but she sat back, folded her arms across her chest and said, “Try me.”
“When I woke up the next day, this place was pretty much a ghost town.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m afraid I ran everyone off. Karina and Peter were gone. Siriporn was gone. You and Andrew were gone. I’ve been running the place by myself ever since.” Her chin quivered.
Natalie realized now that Mali’s tears weren’t all about Siriporn’s disappearance—though she definitely had a right to worry. Mali was purely and simply exhausted. No one could run this place alone.
“To put the kidney in the crust, Andrew blew his stack when I called and told him what happened.” That admission brought on a fresh onslaught of tears. “Can you please talk to him for me, Natalie? He’s the only one who can find out what’s happened to my son, but right now, he’s not talking to me.”
Though Natalie doubted she’d get any further than Mali had with Andrew, she promised her friend she’d do what she could. They hugged, a hard and affectionate embrace, and Mali headed for the kitchen. Natalie went to her cabin to unpack and while taking her shower thought long and hard about the best way to approach Andrew.
When she was dressed, her hair still damp, she headed for Andrew’s cabin, the meeting weighing heavily on her mind. There were a million things she’d rather do other than to talk to her boss about the sanctuary’s missing personnel.
Thirty-Eight
This is a night when kings in golden mail
ride their elephants over the mountains.
-John Cheever
Sophie stood in the enclosure and watched Natalie out of her good eye, waiting patiently as Natalie watched Seth and Rob and Sidecar set up to film, laughing and joking with each other, confident in their new project. As much as Natalie wanted to show Sophie off to the world, she fought a “what if” feeling. What if the guys spooked her? What if Sophie suddenly forgot everything she’d learned in the past six months? What if having Ali and Thaya and Pahpao waiting outside made her suddenly stubborn and more interested in heading off to the mud pits with them?
“Sok, Sophie! Sok!” Natalie barked the command to walk backward, her voice as deep and authoritative as she could make it. She touched Sophie’s hip with the pole, a medium push, a flea touch compared to the stinging dig of the ankus. Sophie inched back, taking her time, but following Natalie’s commands.
“Good girl, Sophie.” Natalie’s voice softened. “Good girl.”
Under the heavy weight of her hair, Natalie’s neck and back were soaked with sweat, both from nervousnes
s and the day’s sweltering humidity. Filming would end soon, and she was happy to see it end, though the end of the project also meant that Seth no longer had any reason to stay. They’d talked about it late into the night as they faced each other in her twin-sized bed.
“I can squeeze in a couple more days here,” Seth had whispered as he wiped a curl of her hair from her forehead with a gentle finger. “But we have an assignment in Borneo I need to get to. They’ll understand me needing a couple of days’ break before I start, but no more than that.”
He adjusted his arm beneath her shoulders and slid his leg down hers until their ankles locked. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and when she glanced down at the contrast between them, she was struck by the fact that it was a very subtle difference. Her own skin had become so tanned that she was only a few shades lighter than he was. Mali called them “handsome as movie stars.”
Handsome, Natalie thought. The right word for Seth, but for her? No one had ever called her that.
With the previous evening’s memory still fresh in her thoughts, she eyed him, in his bright white cotton shirt, his black hair curly and shining with the day’s humidity, his mouth straight and serious, intent on getting a good day’s shooting done without incidents.
And so far, Sophie was cooperating perfectly. She backed up a few more feet and was clear of the enclosure.
“How, Sophie!” Natalie gave the order to stop. She leaned toward the elephant and breathed in Sophie’s warm scent, a combination of bananas and dung and sweet potatoes and mud. Earthy. Heavy. Elephant.
Sophie stopped and reached out her trunk to touch the pole, as if reassuring herself of its location since it was behind her and out of sight. To the right side by a grove of palm trees, three mahouts watched from atop their ellies. Natalie and Siriporn had talked about getting the mahouts off the elephants’ backs, but changing their mindset was still a work-in-progress. All of them—humans and elephants alike—watched Sophie intently. None of the mahouts held their ankuses—Natalie had won that argument—and Chanchai, his legs straddling Ali’s neck, finally appeared comfortable without it.
This was the third time they’d all joined together, working the elephants with only their voices and the protected contact pole. As Andrew pointed out, Ali, Thaya, and Pahpao were always well-behaved, as long as Ali wasn’t in mustph. They knew each other well, having spent the past ten years together at the sanctuary. They really didn’t need to be retrained. It was the mahouts who needed an education. They believed using the ankus was the only way to get an elephant to behave, but at least they were trying and that was major considering how ingrained their beliefs were.
Natalie watched the mahouts working their elephants and wished Siriporn was here. He had been a convert to protected contact and was a valuable partner, but he was still missing in action. Andrew had checked with his contacts in the Bangkok military after Natalie talked to him, but he found out nothing. Mali had barely spoken to Andrew after that. It was clear that her son’s well-being came first, and Andrew knew it. The problem was that neither of them would budge when it came to their opinions about how to raise Mali’s oldest child.
Natalie couldn’t blame Mali. No matter what kind of issues Andrew and Siriporn had, the least Andrew could have done was to offer her some comfort. After all, he was her son. But Andrew wasn’t going out of his way to help. Mali called him a wanker, the closest she came to vulgarity.
Seth checked with his production company to get a list of those protestors who’d been shot or arrested. A day later, he received a phone call. Siriporn hadn’t shown up on either list. When Natalie relayed the info to Mali, she wordlessly grasped Natalie’s hand. Still, no word from Siriporn, and the protests throughout the country continued, even though the military had taken control of the government.
And neither Karina nor Hatcher had contacted Andrew. No one knew where they’d gone nor had anyone heard from them. The mahouts gossiped that Dr. Peter and Mr. Andrew’s sister had run away together for a romantic tryst, but Natalie highly doubted it. It was more likely that Hatcher figured his disappearance might remind everyone of how much he did at the sanctuary. Andrew growled more often than he spoke these days.
He did that now, as the elephants moved together in a tight little pod with her on the ground amidst them. She peered up at Pahpao. Khalan sat atop the middle-aged female’s neck, wearing a Yankees baseball cap that Seth had given him last week. Rumor had it he didn’t remove the hat even when he took a shower, that’s how much he loved it.
The elephants parted, and for a moment, Natalie saw Rob and Sidecar pointing their cameras right at her as she commanded Sophie to move forward. She smiled contentedly when Sophie did exactly as she was told.
“I’m proud of you, ol’ girl,” she whispered and patted the elephant’s wide foreleg. Sophie flapped her ears and lay her trunk against Natalie’s arm as she always did when she knew she was going to get a treat.
As Natalie fed her some bananas, she heard a familiar sound: the clicking of a camera lens close to her ear. She froze and glanced up, half-expecting to see a gaggle of news photographers and journalists, yelling questions about her sons and gun control and demanding to know whether she even thought of the other parents who’d lost children. She was prepared to bolt, but the knee-jerk reaction receded when Seth lowered his camera and said, “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you two girls.”
Natalie ducked her head, embarrassed at the emotion welling in her eyes, but Sophie shifted, forcing herself into Natalie’s view. Sophie’s big brown eye stared right into Natalie’s, then the long fringed lashes closed and opened as if Sophie had just winked.
__________
The bull they call Ali pushes his way to Sophie’s side. He is taller than all of the elephants and wider than most, but he doesn’t cause problems and is respected for that. He’s mild and quietly confident. Noble.
Sophie lifts her trunk and touches the inside of his mouth in greeting, then stands with him, quietly eating. He is the only elephant she recognizes from long ago. Everyone else is gone, but the big bull is part of that old memory.
Long ago, he led the trail of logging elephants up and down the rocky, jungle mountain road every day. She followed behind, smelling his scent in the dirt and on the small trees they uprooted as the herd traveled single file up and back, up and back. Every day for many seasons, she followed him up the mountain, then back down. Together always, the elephants were attached to each other by a chain that wound through the iron ring encircling each elephant’s ankle. It was that ring that created the pain Sophie has endured for so long.
She did not share Ali’s food pile or even the same grazing area when they were in the logging camp, because females were always separated from males, but she knew him. He became the patriarch of their logging family, taking the place of the large matriarchs that normally led the herd. Nothing in their captivity was normal, nothing was the way nature intended. Mothers and calves were separated. Large bull elephants who hadn’t yet mated worked side by side with females whose scent drove the bulls wild. Every season, at least one of them had to be killed. Some charged right off the skinny mountain roads, pulling several other elephants with them.
Sophie was in her thirtieth year when Ali vanished in a big truck that usually arrived to remove one of the fallen members of the herd. Another bull took his place on the line the next day, another bull left his scent on the trail and the trees.
One season later, the big truck came for Sophie. The iron ring remained on her ankle. Another chain was attached to it, and the pain stole Sophie’s memory of the following couple years. She now remembers only pain. No sounds. No family. No delicious mouthfuls like the zucchinis the woman had given Sophie earlier. There was no memory of life between the truck and this moment.
Throughout the long time between the days she’d worked with Ali and her arrival here, she had not thought of hi
m, yet she searched constantly for the family she’d known long ago. She yearned for the day she would find one of them. Then she arrived here, and when she caught the scent of her long-ago friend, she recognized him immediately. He represents family for her.
He bumps her now, rubbing his hip against hers, finally bumping her out of the way so he can steal some of her food. He chews loudly, and from the crunch, he is eating some palm fronds. Relishing them. Sophie presses her hip back against him, feeling his solidness, and she sighs with the contentment of an aging grandmother.
Thirty-Nine
Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,
but to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it.
-Rabrindranath Tagore
Natalie and Seth walked in silence, hand-in-hand. Their shoes scuffed along the moonlit dirt road, the only noise other than an occasional night bird. Natalie thought about the comments that had been made about Hatcher and wondered how she could have missed the tender side of him that Mali and the others described. Had she been blind to it or had he changed so drastically when he came into her company that he acted like a true Jekyll and Hyde? Did he hate her so much that he couldn’t even be himself when she was around?
The flickering light cast shadows on Seth’s face. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt them on her. He turned her to him and held both her hands in his. Tightly.
“I have something I need to tell you, Natalie.” He said her name softly. Seriously.
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