Anarchy and Old Dogs (Dr. Siri Paiboun) (18 page)

Siri and Officer Tao knocked at the big wooden door of Prince Boun Oum's half-finished palace, knowing nobody in there would react to a mere knock. At Siri's instructions, Tao shouted, "It's the police. We don't like to be kept waiting."

After a minute, the bolt on the other side slid open and the door was pulled back a crack. Eyes like hyphens peered out, first at the uniform, then at Siri.

"It's midday. Haven't you ever heard of a siesta?" came the screechy voice of the caretaker. She opened the door just wide enough for them to see that she was barely awake.

"Hello, sister," Siri said. "Remember me?"

"No," she answered.

"I was here a few days ago with another old gentleman."

"We get a lot of visitors." She didn't stand back to let them in. "I'm sleeping. What is it you want?"

The policeman wasn't as patient or polite as Siri. He walked straight at the woman and into the vestibule, almost knocking her down. "Just come for a little look around," he said.

Siri followed him in. "Where's your brother today?" he asked.

"I told you. It's sleeping time. He's resting. You shouldn't be here when he's resting. You might ..."

"Might what?"

She chewed on her words. "Might wake him up."

"We'll certainly do our best not to," Siri said. He was doing his policeman stroll, his hands behind his back: "You said a lot of fixtures had been stolen from this place."

"Everything that wasn't nailed down and half the things that were."

"So you and your brother came along at the right time." "Yes, we did. What's this ...?"

"You keep a pretty tight ship now, by the looks of it."

"There's not much left to take, is there?" She reversed toward a door in a makeshift plywood office and carefully pulled it to.

"Right, but there'd still be prowlers? Curious people come to take a look? Souvenir hunters?"

Tao was standing back, observing like an umpire who's slightly threatened by the competitors.

"Some," she said, walking them away from the office.

"And what do you do?"

"Do?"

"Yes. How do you keep them away? How do you protect this place?"

"We just don't let them in. It isn't that complicated. What are you getting at?"

"Not difficult? You have open windows all over. Anyone with a boat could walk up from the river, and someone who could climb a bit could work his way in."

"They don't."

"Why not?"

"They just don't. They know the place is protected now."

"By an old woman and a softheaded retard?"

Siri noticed the first change in her demeanor. If she'd been a dog, the hairs would have stood up along her spine.

"You ... you have no right to say that." She turned to Tao. "Tell him! Tell him we have rights." Tao smiled and kept quiet.

"I see you haven't been keeping abreast of the news," Siri went on. His tone was nasty; his eyebrows formed a bushy
v.
"We're an oppressive communist state now. Don't mind if we go outside, do you?" He led the way to the back balcony that overlooked the Se Don. The river had collected runoff from the hills and was flowing thick as chocolate. From the balustrade he had a clear view of the half-completed bridge.

"You see?" Siri continued. "Now the fat old royals have fled the scene with their stolen treasures ..."

"They di--"

"Did you say something?" She looked at her feet. "No, I didn't think so. Where was I? Oh, yes. Since the corrupt Royalist lapdogs of the French ran away with their booty, the country has changed hands. We now have people like me who can say what we like, when we like, because we have the power now. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she said, unable to contain her anger. "More's the pity."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. I'd hate to have Officer Tao here lock you up for antigovernment rhetoric, forcing you to leave your softheaded brother to look after himself."

"He's n--" She was scuffing gravel beneath her sandaled foot like a flustered mare.

"And I was just wondering." Siri gave her no time to interject. "With your brother being as scary as he is, what would little kids make of him? I bet he'd be a good challenge for a dare. Suppose, just suppose one of the local kids accepted that dare and came nosing around inside. Say he pried up one of the floor tiles for a souvenir."

"They don't."

"I know. But if one did, how would you and your brother deal with it?" Siri could detect something beneath her anger. She was anxious. A tic had begun in her right cheek and her mouth had risen in to a snarl to counter it.

"I ... I'd tell him to mend his ways and ... and send him home."

"Of course you would. But let's not forget--a child isn't necessarily a 'he,' is it? Could have been a she."

"Boys are more likely."

"More likely to climb in through one of these big gaping windows on the river side and mess around unsupervised. Cause damage. Talk back. Real little bastards, some of these local boys. Right?"

"I don't know."

"My word, yes. And they have no respect at all for the royal family."

"That they don't."

"They probably hear in school that His Preciousness was making a mint in stolen goods and protection and drugs. Even that he was selling arms to the communists in Vietnam just to make a few more fr--"

"He never did. That's all rubbish." Her fists were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white.

"Just to make a few more francs for his retirement. When the kids hear that kind of thing, of course they'd repeat it if they met anyone defending the prince. It's only natural."

"It's slander--vulgar socialist propaganda. Children shouldn't be told spiteful lies like that."

"Who was there to put him right? He only knew what it was like for his family to starve under a Royalist regime while the big honcho got rich and built an obscene palace. He wasn't here to cause trouble. He just came to make sense of it all."

"He had no respect."

"No respect for what?" Siri's volume had risen in tandem with hers to the point that they were a yard apart yelling at each other.

"For the centuries of proud and noble royal families that have ruled our lands in the south. For the great battles won to protect its people. For the culture they brought to us."

"Really? Perhaps he wondered--with all that culture and protection--why he was still living in a wooden hut in the mud."

"His kind will always be in the mud. That class of people never seize the opportunities they're offered."

"That class is ninety-five percent of the population. That's an awful lot of people not seizing opportunities. Perhaps the boy saw himself as their knight. Perhaps he thought by coming here and breaching your castle he could avenge injustices."

"Or perhaps he was just a foul-mouthed little tyke out for trouble. Have you considered that?"

Siri's volume dropped to a whisper. "And he found it, didn't he?"

She fell silent and lowered her eyes. Siri looked at Tao and nodded.

"We're going to take a look at your water tower, Comrade," the policeman said, taking a step toward the looming concrete turret. There was a fire in the woman's eyes that flashed, first at Tao, then at Siri.

"This is private property. Get off our land," she snarled.

Tao smiled. "This is the People's Democratic Republic of Laos," he said. "There
is
no private property. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to lead the way."

They let her climb the ladder first. At the top she stood on the small landing that was barely wide enough for one. Siri joined her there and Tao remained on the fifth rung from the top.

"Open it," Siri said.

The tower was twenty feet deep and had a circumference of about sixty feet. In the wet season it would remain open to the elements to catch rainwater, but in the endless summer a temporary roof was attached to the top. This stopped the water evaporating and kept out thirsty birds who drank so much they often died and rotted right there in the tank. The top of the tower was turreted so that there was a gap of about an inch all around the rim that kept the hot summer water aerated but allowed access to only the slenderest of creatures. There was a hatchway in the roof leading to a removable ladder inside the tank.

The caretaker lifted the lid and sidled around to allow Siri to look inside. The light from the gap reflected on the still surface of the water below. He kicked off his sandals, rolled up his trouser legs, and clambered over the ledge onto the interior ladder. Carefully, he climbed down.

"Not a lot of water in here, is there?" he said.

She looked down through the hatch. "What do you expect? You bastards stole the pump."

"So how much would you estimate is in here? About three feet?"

"If you say so."

When his foot touched the warm water, Siri stopped and looked up at the halo of light filtering in around the edge of the roof--a UFO circling above him--and he knew this was the last sight Sing had seen in his short life. He lowered himself into the water and cringed when his foot met the slime at the bottom. He could barely conceive what torture it had been for the boy. How many days had they left him here up to his waist in water? Hungry, eaten alive by mosquitoes, alone and afraid. Overcome by exposure or fatigue, he'd finally slipped below the surface of the water and drowned.

Siri waded carefully around the wall of the tower until he came to some markings. They were scratched in brown on the gray concrete. Siri visualized the scene: hours of yelling for help, the sounds muffled by the thick walls, desperation, boredom. A river pebble or two in the pocket of his school shorts. Around the second day, trembling from exposure, awful pain in his leg and thigh muscles, he occupies his mind by drawing a masterpiece. The stones aren't soft enough to be manageable, but over the course of the day he etches a lovely picture--a little girl with a smile half the size of her head. She's holding hands with a boy who has horns like a buffalo, or a devil. Beneath them a single word: friends.

The mixed emotions of the previous week welled up in Siri and he leaned his forehead against the concrete and bawled shamelessly. Tao's voice filled the tank twice before he could respond to it.

"You all right down there, Doctor?"

Siri wiped the tears from his face and waded to the ladder. "No," he said. "I'm not."

When all three were back on the ground, Siri put his face close to the woman's and drilled his meadow green eyes into hers. His voice was a growl.

"I've never in my life shown violence to a woman," he said. "Never. But for somebody like you, I could easily break my own rules. You are ..."

He felt an almighty thump against his back and found himself flying through the air. He landed facedown in the mud, and within a split second some snarling and punching creature was on him. It bit into his ear and Siri felt the sharp pain of the membrane being ripped away. He smelled a vile breath and sensed an uncommon, inhuman fury. Only by rolling slightly to one side and digging his fingers into the attacker's face could Siri make out the identity. The brother, roused and angry, had come to the aid of his sister. His was an instinctive, animal reaction. Lurking inside the frail, silent man was a wild beast. This was the weapon that kept out intruders. They had no need of a gun.

Out of the corner of his eye, Siri could see Officer Tao locked in battle with the woman. She was scratching and spitting like a cat. The policeman was behind her with his arms locked around her chest but she was more than a match for the overweight cadre. There was no hope of his coming to Siri's aid anytime soon. Siri had wrestled in Paris, but in the lightest weight class. If his attacker had been more than a skeleton, Siri knew he'd have had no chance. Yet he prayed to summon just a fraction of his former skill to overcome the man who was beating him black and blue. With his fingers still clawing into the flailing brother's face, Siri rolled and pushed him farther away. The punches no longer landed with their full force, allowing Siri to catch his breath. With one final push he unbalanced the man, who fell sideways onto the damp earth. Siri used this momentum to roll him even further until his back was exposed, then latched onto him. He hooked his arms through the man's and locked his hands behind the man's head.

Pinned but still fuming, the man kicked back violently with his heels. The first blow resounded against Siri's shin and a bolt of pain seared through his body. The blood from his ear flowed down his face now, blinding him. He managed to hook his own leg around his assailant's and neutralize him. And there they lay in the mud, locked together like some Indian stone relief from the
Kama Sutra.
Siri was wheezing painfully, uncertain where he might find another breath.

"Nice show, Doctor," Tao said, still locked in his own reverse tango with the sister. His mouth was very close to her ear. "Now, Comrade, if you'd just calm down, we might be able to get some--"

"I'm not your comrade, you dirty Red son of a whore," she screeched.

"Trying to win me over with flattery won't do you any good now," Tao said. She back-heeled him and he swore under his breath. To forestall her, he lowered himself to his knees, leaving her in a sitting position. There was a moment or two of peace when only the breaths of the four combatants could be heard.