Bamboo People (11 page)

“Captain said to find a trail heading left at the spring,” I say, pointing into the dense teak trees. Broken branches block the view. “I don’t see anything.”

“Go look for it, then,” says one of the boys. “It’s almost noon. I want to get back across the border as soon as we can.”

Another one chimes in. “We won’t be able to count the cache in the dark.”

I scan the dense leaves around the broken branches. A mine could be anywhere in there. “Let’s stay on the main trail,” I say. “We’ll keep an eye out for the first clear path to the left.”

They complain for a bit, but agree. We walk for a while and then round a bend. Almost immediately the main trail disappears into a thicket of brambles and trees and tall weeds. To the left is a wide, sunny field and to the front and right is a wall of prickly foliage. There’s no sign of any trail—the main one or a fork.

“What now, Teacher?”

“Maybe we should go back to the spring,” I say.

Another boy shakes his head. “This field slopes up to a ridge. We might be able to see the trail from up there, or even spot the hut.”

“The field doesn’t look safe,” I say. “What if I push through the bushes straight ahead? Maybe the main trail keeps going beyond these brambles.”

“Good idea, Chiko,” Bindu says.

The other boys aren’t happy with this. “If you don’t get back in ten minutes, we’ll go through the field.”

Leaving them grumbling and arguing, I venture into the tangle, stepping carefully. It does look like the trail leads through this mess—I notice small crosses carved into the trunks of some of the trees. I’m watching for the markings and pushing my way through thorns and brambles a few minutes later when I hear it.
BAM!

It’s the loudest crash I’ve ever heard in my life, so loud it almost drowns out the screams and shouts. My companions must have detonated a mine! Why didn’t they stay where they were? I take a few steps in the direction of the noise.
BOOM!

This explosion sounds even louder than the first. The ground and the air and the bushes are on fire around me. I’m falling, howling, crashing into thorns and brambles. The last thing I remember is the bamboo slipping out of my grasp as I land with a thud.

The sun is high and shadows are small when we stop to rest near a small spring. It’s only the second day of the journey, but after walking for five hours straight, I’m glad to put down my load.

I wish we could have brought my mule along, but we wouldn’t be able to hide her if we ran into trouble. It was a miracle that we brought her safely from our village to the refugee camp. Mango’s a good little beast. Sa Reh promised to take care of her while I’m gone, but I can’t help missing her as my pack gets heavier by the moment.

I replenish my water supply, and Peh points into a teak grove. “That’s the way to the healer’s hut,” he tells us.

He hasn’t put down his load to fill his canteen. Neither have the other men. They’re used to trekking through the jungle with big loads for weeks.

“What healer?” I ask. It’s my first mission. I’ve been asking questions nonstop.

“Two sisters live in a hut with their grandfather,” Peh answers, handing me my pack. “People in hiding go there for treatment.”

“The younger girl used to come into camp for supplies,” another man adds. “She’s a tough one—makes her way there alone, loads her bag, and heads back again the same day. They say her sister was captured and tortured by the enemy.”

“Shh!” Peh says suddenly. “Listen!”

I strain to hear past the twitter of birds, the trickle of water, the drone of insects. Are those voices? Is that the tramp of boots?

It must be, because Peh pulls me into the trees. “Soldiers,” he hisses.

Every muscle in my body tightens with anger. Those Burmese will stop at nothing. They kill without remorse—that’s why our village had to evacuate three months ago. Most of the villagers hid in the jungle on the Burmese side of the border, but a few escaped into Thailand, like my family. I grabbed Mango and followed Peh and Mua and my sister. None of them turned around. They didn’t see the soldiers burning our home and bamboo grove. But I did. My mind blazes with the memory.

“Get down,” Peh orders now.

We obey instantly, flattening ourselves under the bushes and camouflaging each other with leaves. I reach out one hand and quickly cover the hem of Peh’s trousers and his boot.

“Good work, son,” Peh whispers.

I can’t help feeling pleased, despite the danger. It’s been a while since I’ve heard praise from either of my parents. Lately it’s been lectures from Mua and disappointed looks from Peh. In fact, the entire camp was surprised when he chose me to be a member of the team, but I know why I’m here. I overheard my parents talking when they thought I was asleep. As usual, I was staring into the darkness, remembering the soldiers who burned our house.

“The boy’s changed,” Peh said. “He’s full of anger.”

“It’s that new friend of his,” Mua whispered. “He’s a bad influence.”

“You’re right. Maybe it would be good for Tu Reh to join me on the next mission.”

I almost jumped up and shouted, “Yes, Peh!” before remembering I was supposed to be asleep. I’d been wanting to join Peh’s team since we got to camp. I was tired of wasting time with school and chores and games with my little sister while other Karenni fought to stay alive in the jungle.

“But it’s dangerous,” said Mua.

“He’s sixteen now, my love, becoming a man.”

“I know.” Mua sighed.

“But what kind of a man is he becoming?” Peh asked, and he sounded worried. I could hear him crunching on the bamboo shoots Mua fries and stores as snacks.

“A brave one, like his
peh,”
Mua said. “With a big appetite like his
peh’s”

My parents laughed. I saw Peh reach over and take Mua in his arms. One of them blew out the candle, and darkness hid them.

I don’t care why my parents let me come. I’m here now, with Sa Reh so jealous he can hardly stand it. My parents were right about him and me being angry. He hates the Burmese as much as I do, maybe even more. When he was small they forced his
mua
into hard labor. She wasn’t strong enough to survive it. Sa Reh once told me about the day they captured her. He hasn’t talked about it to anyone else.

“Kill a soldier for my
mua,”
he told me before I left.

I made the promise, but our mission on this journey isn’t to fight. We’re carrying medical supplies and food to Karenni hiding in the jungle. We don’t even have any weapons. Peh said our camp needed to reserve them for direct combat.

The voices and footsteps are distinct now, closer, louder. Soon I see them through the leaves—five soldiers wearing that forest green uniform I remember so well. I lie quietly, barely daring to breathe. Have these soldiers already discovered some of our people, maybe even killed them? I picture myself leaping out at them, knocking down one, then two, then three. If only one of us had a rifle!

They’re talking about finding the healer’s hut and destroying it. My heart beats faster as I think of the two Karenni girls who live there with their grandfather.

Somebody has to defend them! I’m sure Peh is thinking like I am.

Five of us. Five of them.

We can take them, rifles or no rifles. I’m strong—my thighs and arms are as big as Peh’s now. I brace myself, ready to leap out as soon as he gives the signal.

But Peh keeps still.

The soldiers have found the spring. Now they’re only about twenty meters away, arguing as they fill their water bottles.

With a pang, I remember I didn’t pick up my bamboo pole before Peh pulled me away. Will the soldiers find it? Will they feel the grip of my hand, still warm, on the bamboo?

They’re moving again, marching, tramping, talking in loud voices.

Peh waits until we can’t hear them before crawling out of the leaves. “Back to the spring,” he orders curtly.

He and the others talk in low voices while I hunt for my pole. That piece of bamboo and Mango are the only two possessions I still have from our village. The pole is nowhere in sight. I cut it from the grove that was planted by my grandfather’s father—the grove that is gone now.
BAM!

An explosion shatters the jungle. My hands fly to cover my ears. Not many things scare me, but detonating a hidden mine is one of them. Too many people in camp have only one leg.

When the noise stops echoing, Peh shakes his head. “Sounds like a claymore. That’s the worst kind.”
BOOM!

Another one! This one isn’t as loud. For once I’m glad the Burmese planted so many mines in these jungles. If only more of them would explode under their own feet. It would make things so much easier for us.

“Let’s get out of here,” says one of the men. “If any of those soldiers are still alive, they’ll be coming back this way soon.”

“No, they won’t,” Peh says. “Didn’t you hear what they said? They’re heading to destroy the healer’s hut and return by nightfall.”

The other men are shaking their heads. “We’ll have to fight those scoundrels if we follow them,” one says. “We didn’t bring any weapons, and we’ve got people waiting for supplies.”

“The girls and their grandfather are in danger,” Peh says. “Someone has to warn them.”

Nobody answers, and none of them meet his eyes. I clench my fists. Isn’t there a man on this team besides Peh?

“I’ll do it,” I say. If I leave my pack, I can run fast. I’ll go through the jungle to pass the soldiers without them seeing me, warn the healer, and then race back here to catch up with the team.

Peh’s expression doesn’t change much, but I can tell he’s pleased. “I’ll show you a shortcut, Tu Reh,” he says. “But first let’s check on those soldiers. Will the rest of you wait?”

“We’ll wait,” someone answers. “We can’t do this mission without you, Oo Reh. But hurry back.”

“I will,” Peh promises, and the men seem satisfied.

I leave my pack with them and follow my father.

We backtrack around a bend where the trail seems to end in a tangle of bushes. We just came this way, pushing through the undergrowth, so Peh and I know the main trail is just on the other side.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing into the field beside us.

Peh squints into the afternoon sun. A short distance away, four limp piles of uniforms are strewn across the field. The bodies don’t move, but we keep still just in case and watch for a few minutes.

Peh takes off his pack. “Stay here, Tu Reh,” he whispers.

I watch him make his way to the bodies. Why did these soldiers leave the trail? Uncharted land is peppered with mines. It’s stupid to try to take shortcuts into the unknown.

Peh examines each soldier in turn, removing rifles from their bodies and gathering ammunition from their bags. They must be dead. That’s good news. Those four won’t kill or hurt Karenni again. The healer is out of danger, the girls are safe, and now we can take these weapons along.

Peh slings the four rifles over one shoulder and heads for the undergrowth bordering the field. I hold my breath each time his foot lands, but there’s no explosion. He gestures to me and disappears.

Reluctantly I walk into the brambles and bushes. It’s stifling in there. Small crosses are scratched on the trunks of trees to mark the cleared trail, and I keep a careful eye on them.

“A claymore killed the four on the field,” Peh says when I come into sight. He’s off the trail, but only by a few meters. “This one stepped on a makeshift mine. He’s still alive.”

A body is sprawled at Peh’s feet. One leg is bent at a strange angle, but the chest is rising and falling with ragged breaths. I glimpse the splintered bone of shin poking through a shredded pant leg. If this soldier survives, which is doubtful, he’ll lose that leg for sure.

Beside him is my bamboo pole—I recognize it immediately. A dark stain on the ground under the injured leg is spreading. I step carefully to where Peh is standing and grab my pole before it gets bloody.

There’s no sign of a weapon. This soldier must not have been carrying one. I do spot a pair of eyeglasses not far from his head. I pick those up, too, and shove them into my pocket.

Peh hands me the ammunition and slings the rifles across my shoulder one by one. Once I’m loaded up, he scoops the Burmese soldier into his arms. What’s he doing? This soldier isn’t a danger to the people in the healer’s hut. We can leave him to his fate, return to the team, and finish the mission.

“Make a path for me, Tu Reh,” Peh says. “Time is short.”

I shift the weight of the rifles on my shoulder and push my way through the brambles. As I hold back branches so Peh can pass, I wonder if he’s planning to end this soldier’s pain with a bullet. It would be like him to show that kind of mercy to an enemy. But why not do it back there? Why not end it quickly?

When we reach the open trail, Peh lowers the soldier to the ground and digs through his pack for his water bottle, ointment, and strips of clean cotton. Now I really don’t understand. Why is he wasting medicine and supplies we brought for the Karenni on an enemy?

I watch in amazement as Peh washes the wound, applies ointment, and ties a tourniquet around the soldier’s thigh. Then he wraps the leg with bandages to staunch the bleeding. Finally he rises. He places his fingers on the soldier’s wrist. “He might still live.”