Saturday, August 10, 2024 - 9:00 AM
Marco, the dutiful associate of the region’s trafficking king, parked his Suzuki 120 cc sport bike next to a busy outdoor cafe. He took a table with a perfect view of the British Embassy’s gate. The cafe was west of the Embassy, so any traffic exiting the gate with Sabriya and heading west to the mountains allowed him time to casually leave the cafe, hop on his bike, and follow at a safe distance. Following Embassy traffic would not be terribly difficult, as there were few roads out of Meijing heading west, so there was little chance the route would be circuitous.
Marco had barely settled down with his first cup of cappuccino when the Embassy gate opened, and a black Nissan sedan rolled out, heading west. As it passed his table, only a couple of meters from the street, he was surprised the vehicle had no privacy glass. A white male, probably British security, was driving, looking ridiculous in a cheap chauffeur’s cap. In the back was his unmistakable target, Sabriya Kensington, the ambassador’s wife, sitting with a white woman who seemed particularly serious and alert, peering out the windows. More security? Why they were traveling so conspicuously was a mystery to Marco, but he was not one to complain. He casually put out his cigarette, finished his brew, got on the Suzuki, and followed the Nissan west.
Once out of the city, they made good progress in the lower plains, where the roads were mostly clear this early in the morning and straight. He held back considerably so the driver would not notice him tailing. The Nissan drove past small villages of several dozen shacks or sheds, clumped together with no yards or roads between them, and barely enough space to walk from one peasant house to another. Farther from the city, they passed rice and wheat fields, and closer to the mountains, they came upon homes near the road where cocoa and coffee beans were spread out to dry in the sun on mat blankets before the mats were taken up and the beans bagged for market. As they approached the mountains, the road rose and narrowed, and finally the switchbacks took over. Finally, in the mid-afternoon, the paved road ended in a clearing that led to a rutted dirt road passable only for bicycles or cycles, large-wheeled carts, pack animals, children, and farmers, possibly with bamboo yokes with baskets hung from each end.
Marco held back and ducked his bike into the brush when the Nissan parked by the side of the road. The group exited the car, laced up their boots, and donned tactical backpacks. Marco had not counted on a trek through the forest, and on foot, he would have to be ever more careful not to reveal his presence. It was cooler now that they were 900 meters up the mountainside, especially with the shade of oaks, chestnuts, pines, and bamboo that blocked the ever-present sun. The well-trodden, dirt trail hugged the side of a small river flowing in the opposite direction—evidence of steady rainfall in the area. He needn’t worry about noise he might make with the calls of hornbills, the whistles of thrushes and warblers, and the click of cicadas in the surrounding forest. The farther up the Pangina Mountains switchbacks they traveled, the slower he had to go to avoid following too closely and being recognized.
Soon, he was high enough to look down on the forests below and the persistent mist or fog that blanketed the lower elevations. Printed signs back in the clearing and along the path told him they were approaching the village of Miwu Cun. Soon, he would have to leave the trail and follow them from the camouflage of brush.
Saturday, August 10, 2024 - 3:30 PM
“The village is pretty much as I remember it,” said Sabriya, as the group stood in a clearing on a slight rise in the path with the eighteen or so dwellings scattered before them. Unlike the villages near the city, which were made of small shacks stacked close together under the blazing sun, Miwu Cun village was spread out on a lush hillside, with the rocky peaks of the Pangina visible to the west. Due to the hilly terrain, each hut had been erected on secure, level bamboo platforms, yards apart, allowing privacy. Their thick, thatched walls and roofs, covered in living blankets of dense green moss, kept the dwellings cool during the day and warm at night. Walking paths meandered around small vegetable and spice gardens and pens for hogs, while village dogs and cats roamed free to greet visitors or run from them.
Sabriya pointed to a distant hut, “That was Busaba’s house when I was last here. But everything looks bigger and a bit different.”
“A lot can change in 11 years,” murmured Hannah. Jack and I will stay here. You go ahead and see if you can find your sister. Leave your pack here. Jack? Jack?” Hannah turned around, looking for her husband.
Suddenly, before Sabriya could drop her pack….
“SABRIYA?”
Sabriya whirred around to greet a young, frail woman who had followed them up the path to the village. The woman looked like Sabriya’s twin, except her eyes were dark and stressed, her mouth downturned, her red blouse and gray skirt old but clean, as was her face and hair, as if she had just bathed in the river. She balanced a jug of water on her head. Sabriya exclaimed, “Busaba!”
The two stared at each other for just an instant before Busaba set her jug of water down and enthusiastically hugged her sister. Busaba’s oval face, thick black eyebrows, large brown eyes, flat nose, and full lips reflected her excitement at seeing her sister. But questions and concerns cascaded from her brow. Her dark green linen trousers were soiled from labor in the fields, along with her white muslin top with a wide-open neck. Busaba looked older than she remembered, her hair cut short, but clean.
Releasing Sabriya from her embrace, Busaba held her sister at arm’s length and exclaimed, “You’re alive.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I did appear dead to you, I know.”
Both sisters wiped away tears and embraced again.
“And these are?” Busaba asked, gazing at Jack and Hannah. But before Sabriya could do the introductions, “Wait!” said Busaba, staring at the British-looking couple. “Is it true?” Busaba was astonished. Did you marry that British ambassador? Did you meet our Queen and give a speech?”
Sabriya was embarrassed that she had not sought out Busaba earlier. She answered quietly, “Yes, it was me.”
Busaba clamped her hands over her mouth, stepped back, and stared back and forth between Sabriya and her security team, or at least half of the team. Jack was missing.
“Busaba, this is Hannah Clark. Her husband, Jack… where’s Jack, Hannah?”
Hannah shook her head, looked behind them on the trail they had just been on, and said, “I don’t know.”
Sabriya turned back to Busaba, “Well, they work with the Embassy. They’re my security team, but also my close friends.” She looked up, “Here he is.”
Jack came up the trail from behind Busaba. Neither Sabriya nor Hannah had noticed his lagging behind.
“Jack, Hannah, this is my sister, Busaba.” They all shook hands. “Jack drove us to the head of the trail. It took from early morning to just now to get here from Meijing.” Sabriya glanced at Jack and saw the concern on his face, and how he nudged Hannah, causing them both to turn back to the trail as Jack whispered something to Hannah. Recognizing an opportunity before it slipped away, Sabriya turned her back to Jack and Hannah, then winked at Busaba, and then very deliberately and slowly said, “Tell me, sister. How is your daughter? My niece, Jia Kun?”
Busaba held her breath and stared strangely at Sabriya, but after a moment, her expression shifted. She smiled, although it seemed a bit forced. “She’s almost 12 now, in a few weeks. She’s at lower school now between our village and the next, in that direction.” She pointed to a trail past some of the dwellings. She’ll be home soon.” After a long pause, neither sister knew what to say. Jack and Hannah turned back from their whispering. Trying to force a smile, Busaba said, “Come to my hut. Have some tea.”
Busaba led the trio to her dwelling, along with their packs. Inside, she cleared a corner of her spacious one-room home for them to unroll their bedding and settle in. She served tea to everyone and then led Sabriya outside to a clearing, away from Jack and Hannah.
Sabriya saw that Busaba was bitter. She needed to let her sister vent and hoped there was a way to make up for years of absence and neglect.
“They don’t know, do they?” Hannah spat out like a mouthful of bitter herbs.
“Nor does my husband. I need to keep it that way.”
“You mean, Kensingston, the ambassador? Is that his name?
Sabriya nodded, “David Kensington.”
Busaba collected her thoughts and dug out the plug of disappointment that had formed a dam of bitterness. “Why’d you show up now, after all these years? You disowned your daughter, never sent the money you promised. Now here you are in all your fine clothes.” Busaba looked Sabriya over with skepticism. “What are you in the British army now, with this, what, a uniform? How did you marry an ambassador of all people? And you never told me? Why!?”
Busaba was angry and rightfully so, Sabriya thought.
“It’s a long story. The details can wait for another time. But here’s the short version. I have desperately wanted to write you almost every week of my life these past years, now lost. But I was prevented, most of the time, and then I was afraid the rest of the time. After I left Jia Kun with you, I got far away from here in case I was followed. I didn’t want them to find you or Jia Kun. That was the main reason I disappeared. To protect you and my child. After wandering homeless for weeks, I was taken in by Catholic nuns a long way from here. They promised to protect me, but only if I did not communicate with anyone outside the monastery. That went on for several years. And afterwards, I was afraid that if I contacted you, the men we’re both hiding from would find you, and I didn’t want what happened to our parents and the village to happen to you. I was desperate and afraid. I did get a few secret letters off, but not like I wanted. Then David found me, we married, and suddenly the British government took us out of the country. He was a diplomat in Burma, then Japan, and then Vietnam for years. Only last month was he named Ambassador to Pellagore, and we’re back here, in Meijing. Today is the first chance I’ve had to come, and I so desperately wanted to. Here, take this…”
Sabriya took the small pouch from her vest pocket, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and unfolded a fistful of Pellagore currency. “This is for you and Jia Kun, and there’s more to come.”
Busaba was speechless. Sabriya was sure her sister had never seen so much money at one time.
“Here, put it back in this pouch, and you must hide it, and not let anyone know you have this, or they will take it.”
Busaba fumbled with the money, and together they stuffed it back in the small leather pouch and tied it up. “Sister, I’m afraid your coming will bring danger to our lives, here in our mountain sanctuary. We are so far away and hidden, so far, but you’re coming here...”
“Yes, that’s the fear I’ve had, for years,” Sabriya admitted. “They are still after me, I am certain. He will never forget what I did in leaving him and taking his stupid god’s sacred charm and money. Have you heard or seen anything of him or his gang?”
“No, nothing, and we’ve been careful not to have anything to do with or let our friends back in Hathou know where we are. Do you know anything about them….our village?”
“A little. Several years ago, before we were married, David arranged for an Australian group to come in and rebuild Hathou. The dwellings and farms were revitalized, as they called it. They drilled two wells and installed a solar pump for clean water. Our village is doing well, last I heard. ”
“But you drove in a car to the trail head, didn’t you, from Meijing?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Sabriya, he will follow you. I’m sure of it. They will know where we are now. That is not good.”
Sabriya nodded. “Where is brother Huy? Is he here?”
“No. Maybe you forgot. You came with Jia Kun only a short time after Father was killed, and Hathou burned. Huy brought me here, then you brought Jia Kun. He stayed long enough to make sure this hut was fixed, it had been abandoned, and we were safe. Then he left to find work, before you came. He ended up in the Philippines, got work on one of those big ocean boats. He travels far and wide, makes good money, and sends me some when he can. That is what we have lived on. But I have not received anything from him in a long time, and I’ve borrowed from our village’s big man. I will pay him back now with some of this,” she said, gripping the pouch of money.
“Busaba, dear sister, please forgive me for my years of absence. Is Jia Kun healthy?”
“Sister, I must admit bitterness still stings my heart. My life and Jia Kun's have been hard and often sad. But she is a good daughter to me, and I have loved her as my own.”
Sabriya paused—Busaba called Jia Kun her “daughter.” That saddened Sabriya, but it was true in an absolute sense. Sabriya gently took Busaba’s hands in hers and, with tears, said, “Dear sister. I am sure that you have been a good mother to Jia Kun, more than her own, and it is good to hear she has been a good daughter to you. I am not here to take Jia Kun from you. What do you wish? Will you let me be her Auntie? I will make good on my promise, now that I am married to a good man with some modest wealth and living here in Pellagore. I will support you and Jia Kun as I am able.”
Busaba stared at Sabriya with a straight mouth and hard eyes. “I have not married. I have no man to love, and our brother has left us alone. It is not good with us. We are treated with politeness, but we have no family. Jia Kun is good, and she has school friends, but I am alone.”
“Will you let me see my niece?” asked Sabriya. I have a present for her.”
Busaba’s eyes softened a little, but she nodded yes. “She will be back soon from school. I will fix us some food from what I have, it’s not much.”
Sabriya smiled. “We brought food, we will share it with you and leave you more.”
“Thank you, sister,” Busaba said, still with some sadness.
When they returned to Busaba’s hut, Jack and Hannah were standing in the entryway, looking toward the village and the path from which they had come. Jack quietly spoke to Sabriya. “I am pretty sure a man on a motorbike has followed us, all the way from Meijing, and then on foot up the trail. As we neared the village, he disappeared into the bush. I do not think we are in any immediate danger, but Hannah and I will be on guard throughout the night, and I suggest we leave first thing in the morning.”
Sabriya stiffened. “O Lord, have mercy. Busaba feared this very thing. She fears the men who chased us from our village years ago still hold a grudge and might have followed me here. Had I not made that speech with Queen Devi, they might not have known I was here, and would not now know where my sister and Jia Kun live. What can we do?”
“Stay vigilant,” said Hannah.
“I will talk with David when we return,” said Jack. “There may be some good that will come from your new relationship with the Queen. In retrospect, I should have tried to lose the guy following us, but I didn’t notice until we were well on our way, and there was no clear opportunity for, as a lizard would call it, tail shedding.”
Sabriya thought about the lizard in her past and had hoped her attempts to shed its skin were complete. But this new information of being tailed, shredded that hope.
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