“Sweet that you’re such good friends,” says Sal. “I might believe you if you hadn’t snatched his kid for him.” He pats Gordon on the back as he coughs again and spits into the dirt. “That hurt? It was just a taste, okay? Remember that.”
He disappears into one of the tents. Gordon straightens while the other man watches, shaking his head as though disappointed with him. After a minute Sal returns with a pen and spiral notebook.
“You got money?” he says to Gordon. “Rich friends? Rich old man?”
“I have debts,” says Gordon. “My mother’s a widow. Missionaries don’t get paid.”
“Well, you better hope the Church ponies up for you.” Sal circles behind Gordon and kicks his feet out from under him, toppling him. Gordon lands with a cry of pain.
“Sit up,” says Sal.
Slowly, Gordon gets himself into a cross-legged position. The Lao men return from the forest without Yia Pao or his son and take up a position on the light’s periphery.
“The baby needs milk,” says Gordon.
“My friends and I need money,” Sal replies.
“If the baby doesn’t get milk, it will die,” Gordon insists.
“If we don’t get our money, you’re all going to die. My friend and I here retired early from the army, so we’re short on our pension.” He drops the notebook and pen into Gordon’s lap. “Don’t be a hero. Just write what I tell you.”
When they’ve finished, Sal gestures for him to be taken away. The third Lao man, older than the guards from the riverbank, steps forward and drags Gordon to his feet, then leads him down a trail to a place in the forest where a narrow pit has been dug. Beside it is a pile of heaped earth. Gordon pulls up short at the sight, and the guard speaks to him sharply in Laotian. Yia Pao’s voice comes from the bottom of the hole.
“It’s all right,” he says. “He isn’t going to shoot you, Gordon. He wants you to lower yourself in.”
Gordon sits down at the edge, slides his body forward until finally he drops. At the bottom it’s pitch-black except for a purple square of sky ten feet up. The silhouette of a head appears above them and whispers something before vanishing.
“What did he say?” asks Gordon.
“Tomorrow he will try to bring milk. He is Hmong, he will help us if he can.”
“I told them you didn’t take their money,” Gordon says, then adds, “I didn’t lie, did I?”
“I don’t have it,” Yia Pao replies. “I promise you.”
“They didn’t believe me.”
“Perhaps not. If they were certain I took it, though, they wouldn’t have brought us all this way. They may wish to ransom you now, but you weren’t part of their plan. These men are drug runners, not kidnappers.”
“How do you know?” Gordon asks, and Yia Pao doesn’t answer. “All right, then. Tell me why they brought you here. Why not kill you or let you go?”
“Because they think I might have their money after all.”
“What about Xang? Why haven’t they killed him? Could it be there’s some decency in them?”
“Perhaps they think that as long as he lives I will try to save him by revealing where the money is.”
“Is he all right?” asks Gordon. As if in response, the baby cries feebly. Gordon offers to hold him, and Yia Pao hands him over.
“We’ll get out of here,” says Gordon once the child is settled in his arms. “If it comes to it, I’ll give myself for both of you. I won’t hesitate.”
Yia Pao gives a low laugh, and Gordon’s voice turns gruff. “What is it? What’s so funny?”
“I think you have been waiting a long time for this moment.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You have wanted a chance to surrender yourself,” says Yia Pao. “Tell me, what crime did you commit to require this self-sacrifice?”
“It’s not what I did,” Gordon replies. “It’s what I never did.” Before he can say more, there’s the sound of something smacking against the wall of the pit between them.
“Climb the rope, Yia Pao,” says Sal’s voice. “Leave the kid with your friend. It’s your turn for a talk.”
After Yia Pao is gone, Gordon coos a lullaby to the child. A few minutes later, when Yia Pao starts screaming in the distance, Gordon breaks off from the song and begins to pray.
part 2
CHILDREN OF PARADISE
4
One evening in the middle of July, a sedan pulls into the driveway bringing unexpected visitors. Dimitri and Rhea are in the front seat, their two little boys asleep behind them. Maggie rises from where she has been sitting beside Fletcher on the porch step and calls into the house for Brid and Wale, then asks Fletcher in a whisper whether Dimitri told him they were coming. Fletcher shakes his head in wonder.
Dimitri climbs out of the vehicle in a pair of cut-off jeans that separate his pot-belly from slim, strong legs, the two halves of him so disparate that he looks like both a horse and its rider. Rhea, not more than five feet tall, has the same powerful thighs and high-bunched calves. Brid has referred to these two as the Centaurs, and she has made it clear she doesn’t much like them. But today she greets them with a smile before lifting Pauline to the car window and pointing out the boys, Judd and Jeffrey, as if they’re a rare species of animal. After Rhea rouses them, Pauline turns shy and buries her face in Brid’s chest, while Wale nods a hello from the porch.
When the vehicle’s back doors are opened, a flash of silver grey leaps out and tears across the drive on four legs, disappearing behind the house. Dimitri gallops after it, shouting, “John-John! John-John!” The two boys call out too, even while Rhea chastises them for opening the crate in the back seat. Over the next hour everyone helps in searching for the Centaurs’ cat, without success.
To Maggie, it’s a disquieting arrival, but in this feeling she’s apparently alone. That night after dinner, once the boys have been placated with candy bars, the adults talk and laugh with a celebratory air, even though Dimitri soon informs them that he and his family have come here only for the rest of the summer. He says rumours about Fletcher have been flying around Boston. Some people are saying he’s had a nervous breakdown; others swear he’s going to run for Congress. Last week Cybil called Dimitri to ask if Fletcher had really joined the Weathermen. Maggie watches Fletcher’s face as he hears this news and perceives no sign of displeasure. For his part, he gives a sanguine history of their settlement on the farm, even managing to mention George Ray without eliciting any comment, only a quick, dour look between Dimitri and Rhea that Maggie takes to mean trouble.
After dessert, there’s a rush to change the sleeping arrangements. The Centaurs and their boys are given Pauline’s room, while she’s moved in with her parents. The new configuration delights her but leaves Wale less than happy.
“So much for fucking,” he announces.
In the morning, the men go to work harvesting cherries with George Ray. The fruit they carry back from the orchard is blighted, and much of it is already starting to rot. Maggie stays in the house preparing lunch, then dinner, her interactions with Brid and Rhea limited to sightings from a distance as they watch over the children, looking bored and conspiratorial by turns.
A few days later, as if the Centaurs have begun a trend, a green Beetle full of teenagers and aromatic smoke appears in the drive. They have heard about Harroway from the draft dodgers in Toronto, and they wanted to check out the scene. Fletcher can’t believe the good fortune of it. When he puts them in the barracks with George Ray, Maggie worries they’ll make the place unbearable for the man, but for the most part they stick to the house, toking up, eating all the food, and doing no work at all.