bridge, and once you reach a spring, look for a side trail veering to the left, into the teak trees. That’s supposed to be a shortcut, but if you don’t see it, keep to the main trail and look for the next left-hand split. Take that, and soon you’ll reach the hut.”
“What then?” Bindu asks.
Slam!
The captain’s hand meets Bindu’s face with such force that my own face aches in sympathy. Bindu is dazed, rubbing his cheek where the blow fell.
“Any more interruptions?” the captain asks.
Nobody answers.
“Once you get there, your job is easy: stay hidden, estimate the number of weapons and rebel soldiers, and bring back the news. Be careful and be smart, boys. Kill any rebels you see along the way. Except for you, Teacher, because I’m out of weapons.”
I don’t respond. I wouldn’t know what to do with one of those complicated new rifles anyway. Is he disappointed by my lack of protest? Can he sense his loss of power? His expression is hard to read in the firelight.
“If you’re captured, get as much information as you can and escape,” he says. “If nobody gets back, we’ll assume you failed, and another team will be sent to do the job. But I hope all of you return—the army will reward you well. And for an extra bonus, one of you has agreed to give me a full report of this mission. I won’t tell which one; you’ll have to figure that out for yourselves.”
The other boys glance around suspiciously. Who has agreed to be the captain’s informer? It can’t be Bindu. He’s neither crafty nor mean enough to agree to something like that. And they know it can’t be me. Or do they?
The captain smirks at our reaction. “Always watch for traitors, boys. I have one last instruction. The teacher will walk first, ahead of the rest of you. I don’t want to lose any trained soldiers to mines.”
So that’s why he needed Tai. It’s my job to be a mine clearer. Still, I don’t react. With a shrug, he turns and heads back to the jeep, and we watch him disappear into the darkness.
27
We start our mission at dawn. At first the captain’s directions are easy to follow, and I jog ahead of the other boys, following the path along the river. I’ve lived with fear ever since the day they took Father; it feels wonderful to be free of it. At first I almost feel like singing as sunlight streams through the canopy of leaves and sparkles on the water.
But the morning wanes, monsoon clouds cover the sun, and the air thickens. Trot, march, trudge, slog. The captain didn’t give us food, so we have to forage for bananas and mangoes along the path. I try not to think of the taste of rice, fish, eggs, anything other than fruit. I try not to worry.
By late afternoon my legs are tired, my shirt is drenched with sweat, and I’m sick of the whine of mosquitoes. Fighting hard to keep my spirits up, I imagine Tai knocking on my mother’s door and finding his sister. I picture him starting an office job. And each time we stop for a rest, I slide Lei’s or Father’s face from my pocket and cup it in my hand so the others can’t see it.
Once it gets dark we settle ourselves for the night beneath an old teak tree. Dinner is the extra mango or banana we’re each carrying, and somehow Bindu manages to light a small fire so we can roast the bananas. We don’t talk much—everybody’s tired and hungry. Before long it starts to rain, and our fire sputters and dies. We fall asleep huddled together under the broad teak leaves.
The next morning it doesn’t take us long to reach a rickety footbridge spanning the river and cross into Thailand. I start walking more cautiously now. I can almost hear Father’s deep voice in my head.
Being brave doesn’t give you license to be stupid, Chiko.
I’m still not too worried about detonating land mines—not yet, anyway. This part of the path is well used; it shouldn’t have anything buried along or beside it. I’m thinking more of wild animals—leopards and cobras and
“What then?” Bindu asks.
Slam!
The captain’s hand meets Bindu’s face with such force that my own face aches in sympathy. Bindu is dazed, rubbing his cheek where the blow fell.
“Any more interruptions?” the captain asks.
Nobody answers.
“Once you get there, your job is easy: stay hidden, estimate the number of weapons and rebel soldiers, and bring back the news. Be careful and be smart, boys. Kill any rebels you see along the way. Except for you, Teacher, because I’m out of weapons.”
I don’t respond. I wouldn’t know what to do with one of those complicated new rifles anyway. Is he disappointed by my lack of protest? Can he sense his loss of power? His expression is hard to read in the firelight.
“If you’re captured, get as much information as you can and escape,” he says. “If nobody gets back, we’ll assume you failed, and another team will be sent to do the job. But I hope all of you return—the army will reward you well. And for an extra bonus, one of you has agreed to give me a full report of this mission. I won’t tell which one; you’ll have to figure that out for yourselves.”
The other boys glance around suspiciously. Who has agreed to be the captain’s informer? It can’t be Bindu. He’s neither crafty nor mean enough to agree to something like that. And they know it can’t be me. Or do they?
The captain smirks at our reaction. “Always watch for traitors, boys. I have one last instruction. The teacher will walk first, ahead of the rest of you. I don’t want to lose any trained soldiers to mines.”
So that’s why he needed Tai. It’s my job to be a mine clearer. Still, I don’t react. With a shrug, he turns and heads back to the jeep, and we watch him disappear into the darkness.
27
We start our mission at dawn. At first the captain’s directions are easy to follow, and I jog ahead of the other boys, following the path along the river. I’ve lived with fear ever since the day they took Father; it feels wonderful to be free of it. At first I almost feel like singing as sunlight streams through the canopy of leaves and sparkles on the water.
But the morning wanes, monsoon clouds cover the sun, and the air thickens. Trot, march, trudge, slog. The captain didn’t give us food, so we have to forage for bananas and mangoes along the path. I try not to think of the taste of rice, fish, eggs, anything other than fruit. I try not to worry.
By late afternoon my legs are tired, my shirt is drenched with sweat, and I’m sick of the whine of mosquitoes. Fighting hard to keep my spirits up, I imagine Tai knocking on my mother’s door and finding his sister. I picture him starting an office job. And each time we stop for a rest, I slide Lei’s or Father’s face from my pocket and cup it in my hand so the others can’t see it.
Once it gets dark we settle ourselves for the night beneath an old teak tree. Dinner is the extra mango or banana we’re each carrying, and somehow Bindu manages to light a small fire so we can roast the bananas. We don’t talk much—everybody’s tired and hungry. Before long it starts to rain, and our fire sputters and dies. We fall asleep huddled together under the broad teak leaves.
The next morning it doesn’t take us long to reach a rickety footbridge spanning the river and cross into Thailand. I start walking more cautiously now. I can almost hear Father’s deep voice in my head.
Being brave doesn’t give you license to be stupid, Chiko.
I’m still not too worried about detonating land mines—not yet, anyway. This part of the path is well used; it shouldn’t have anything buried along or beside it. I’m thinking more of wild animals—leopards and cobras and
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