Tua and the Elephant
Page 9
“Don’t you want to go home?”
“I miss my mother. And I miss my auntie and all my friends.”
“But you don’t want to leave Pohn-Pohn, is that it?”
Tua looked up at Mae Noi and shook her head.
“I don’t ever want to leave Pohn-Pohn.”
“You may come here whenever you want,” Mae Noi said. “And stay for as long as you like. We’re only an hour away by car. This is your home, too, Tua.”
“Thank you.” Tua gave her a tight smile and looked away. She was staring vacantly across the pasture when Pohn-Pohn reached out to comfort her, and she hugged the trunk to her cheek.
“What do you want for breakfast, Pohn-Pohn?” she smiled, holding back her tears.
Pohn-Pohn nodded her head and flapped her ears, then turned Tua around on the log and gave her a nudge.
“Okay, Pohn-Pohn, I’m coming.” She giggled, slid to her feet, and looked up. Her mother was standing on top of a hillock above them, looking down and smiling.
“Mama!” Tua cried, and ran into her mother’s outstretched arms. Taking Suay Nam by the hand, she led her down the hillock while telling her all about the excitement of the night before.
“Pohn-Pohn saved my life, Mama,” she said. “How can I ever leave her?”
“And you saved Pohn-Pohn’s life, Tua,” Mae Noi added, standing up from the log and bowing a wai to Suay Nam. “Sawatdee kha. Welcome. I’m Mae Noi.”
Suay Nam returned the bow. “Thank you. And thank you, Pohn-Pohn, for saving my Tua.” She bowed again, this time to the elephant.
“This is my mother, Pohn-Pohn,” Tua said.
But Pohn-Pohn already knew that by the way Suay Nam smelled, looked, and sounded. She reached out and caressed this larger version of Tua.
“Oh,” Suay Nam laughed, and touched the rough skin on Pohn-Pohn’s trunk.
“Can I stay with Pohn-Pohn, Mama?” Tua asked.
“But how would I ever live without you, darling?” said Suay Nam. “Who’s going to find my shoes for me when they’ve run off and I’m late for work? Who’s going to wake me in the morning and tell me about her dreams?”
“I am,” Tua said. “But sometimes I’ll be with Pohn-Pohn—like when I stay over at Auntie Orchid’s for girls’ night.”
“I don’t know, Tua. What does Mae Noi say? And what about school? You have to go to school.”
Suay Nam pulled Tua close and hugged her, as if to keep her from slipping away.
Mae Noi spotted Kanchanok squatting in the tall grass and waved him over. He approached wearing a grin and, draping his arm over Pohn-Pohn’s neck, leaned against her. She slung her trunk around his waist in a similar friendly embrace.
“This is my mother, Kanchanok,” Tua said.
“Sawatdee khrap.” Kanchanok bowed.
“I’m glad you’re here, Kanchanok,” Mae Noi said. “I want you to hear this as well.
“Pohn-Pohn is going to need a mahout to look after her,” she continued. “Elephants at the sanctuary choose their own mahouts, and it’s pretty clear to me that Pohn-Pohn has chosen you, Tua. And since she’s so fond of Kanchanok as well, I was thinking that maybe the two of you could train to be mahouts together. What do you say? Would you like the job?”
Tua swept a radiant smile over Mae Noi, Kanchanok, and Pohn-Pohn before shining it on her mother.
“Can I, Mama?”
“I don’t know,” said Suay Nam. “Is it really what you want to do?”
“More than anything,” Tua answered.
“Mind you,” Mae Noi continued, “it’s a lot of hard work and responsibility. And you’ll have to attend the village school and do your schoolwork as well. Come,” she smiled, “let’s talk about it over breakfast.”
She took Suay Nam’s arm and guided her toward the main building, while Tua, Pohn-Pohn, and Kanchanok fell in behind them.
“I hope you will consider the sanctuary your second home,” Mae Noi said.
“Thank you. But if Tua began staying overnight at the sanctuary, I’d see even less of her than I do now. How could I bear it?” Suay Nam bit her lip.
“Tua certainly is a remarkable little girl, isn’t she?” Mae Noi said. “You must be very proud.”
“I love her so much,” Suay Nam declared before turning her head away.
“I was wondering,” Mae Noi pulled her close, “if you would consider coming to work at the sanctuary as well?”
As they followed behind her mother and Mae Noi, Tua declared, “We made it, Pohn-Pohn! This is your home now.”
Pohn-Pohn tossed her trunk about like a newborn calf. It was in the air, all over the ground, and on everything they passed: the musky scent of elephants.
“Yoo-hoo,” hailed a voice from the feeding platform. “Tu-ahh, darling! Pohn, my honey! Look at the pair of you! I could eat you both up, you know I could.”
Auntie Orchid descended the stairs like a monarch. The volunteers and staff followed her off the platform like flowers chasing the sun. She tiptoed across the pasture, sidestepping large piles of elephant dung, before pushing Tua’s cheeks together and kissing her bulging lips. Then she hugged Pohn-Pohn’s trunk and planted a pair of scarlet lips between her eyes. Tua wiped the lipstick off her mouth with the back of her hand.
Auntie Orchid then spun around to face her public, gathered niece and trunk into her arms, and struck a fetching pose.
“Don’t you feel glamorous?” she crooned.
“I’m going to be a mahout, Auntie,” Tua said.
Saying it out aloud seemed to make it all come true.
“That’s nice, darling,” said Auntie Orchid. “Every girl should have a hobby. Smile for the cameras, cherubs.”
Author’s Note
Toward the end of an extended trip through Oceania and Southeast Asia, my wife and I had the great fortune to walk into a restaurant, Taste from Heaven, in Chiang Mai, Thailand. The owners, Roy and Nan Fudge, passionate supporters of elephants, booked us a day trip to the Elephant Nature Park. And in less than twenty-four hours I went from being someone whose only contact with elephants had been from a distance in a zoo to someone who fed them by hand and bathed with them in a river. We met the founder of the park, Sangduen “Lek” Chailert, who explained to us the plight of the Asian elephant; her staff and volunteers; and then the elephants themselves. The next morning, back in our hotel room in Chiang Mai, I began writing the story of Tua and the Elephant.
It may not be possible to look an elephant in the eyes and not want to get to know her better. I hope you get the chance to try sometime.
R. P. HARRIS
R. P. HARRIS has traveled the world with his wife, spending much time in Asia, including three months in Thailand, where this story was born. He currently lives in Shanghai, China. This is his first book.
TAEEUN YOO has illustrated numerous books for children, including the New York Times Best Illustrated Book of 2009, Only a Witch Can Fly. She lives in New York City.
Text © 2012 by RANDAL HARRIS.
Illustrations © 2012 by TAEEUN YOO.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available.
eISBN: 978-0-8118-7781-7
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