Duong Huong - The Zenith

“The old guys in the old days were quite disgraceful!”

“Those guys also had tongues to twist and two eyes to ogle girls just like we do now. But even if we wanted to criticize or straighten them out, they are sleeping soundly now under three meters of dirt. Nobody can take them by the nape anymore to ask them questions.” Saying so, he looked toward An, as if to tell him to calm down.

Seeing that, An said, “Uncle, have the horses finished eating yet?”

“How could they be finished? They take their time. And you, Comrades, have you presented your papers yet?”

“I presented both our passes but the captain’s subordinate put them in his shirt pocket.”

“Hey, a lady in a red shirt; hey, one with a pink cloth tiara…”

The driver continued to sing another verse, then turned to the senior captain: “These two comrades have to carry out their orders immediately; they can’t wait for a military bus. That is why the Thanh Vinh police recommended me. Not to make any money did I come up here with my horses. These two don’t have time to drink tea with us. But they have very good cane sugar. They gave me some pieces to suck in the cart. It tasted good, like flower pollen.”

Turning to An, he asked, “Comrade, will you offer some to these guys in the post? We will sit and drink tea to soothe our throats.”

An put the package of cane sugar on the table, then said, “Here. A gift for you, Comrades.”

He smiled and looked at the captain. “I am a first lieutenant, lower than you by one rank. It would be fun to chat if we had time. But unfortunately we must take care of urgent responsibilities.”

“Really?”

The captain stuck his head past the door frame and asked the group of soldiers gathered outside on the patio, “Who of you kept the military orders of these two comrades?”

“Me.”

“Have you checked them?”

“Yes. They are First Lieutenant Chi Van Thanh and People’s Police Master Sergeant Nong Tai. Both of them belong to the Tay ethnic minority.”

“Give them back. Bad luck that they are on an urgent mission.”

The soldier returned the passes.

The captain said, “Well, we will see you when you return. My cousin married a Tay girl. She is cute, really cute. Her skin is fair like cotton, more beautiful than that of the wives of the Russian and Czech advisers. Next life, if I am lucky, I would like to be a Tay son-in-law. OK?”

“Thank you.”

An and Nong Tai said good-bye to the soldiers then turned back to the road. The singing of the cart owner followed them:

“The panels of your dress fly up; exciting my burning heart,

As if I walk on fire, sit on charcoal…”

An said, “If we get out of here, we have to thank the cart owner a thousand times.”

The two looked toward Laos, bowed their heads, and walked away with a running gait.

They walked like that for one full hour, sweat running abundantly down their faces and wetting their backs. The sun was now hanging lightly like a bright globe to the west just above the mountain in front of them. The sunlight threw a wide blanket but the air had cooled. Slowing down their pace a bit, An felt the cold on his shoulders. Behind them, rows of hills ran to the horizon. Before them, only a patch of road before they reached the forest. Its dark border appeared along the full stretch of the valley.

Nong Tai cried out: “Here’s the forest. We made it alive.”

“Divine beings: please protect us. But we must go faster. Behind is empty space with an empty road. But if the horses of the outpost chase us, there is not much chance of escape.”

The two continued to head toward the forest, running fast. They looked at the sun as if it were some clock timing a race of life or death. Feeling tired, An slowed his pace, but Nong Tai said, “We can’t slow down now. The forest here is open, horses can run freely. We have to get to the heart of the forest where the path is large enough only for feet to hope to be out of danger.”

After speaking, he moved to walk ahead of An and set the pace, as if to encourage his companion. Walking in the shadow of trees, they grew less anxious. The two passed through a part of the wood that sloped downhill. Ten minutes beyond that, they arrived at a flatter part of the forest where it was full of vines. The path was now wide enough for only one person.

As he wiped the sweat off his face, Nong Tai said, “Not quite the heart of the forest, but horses will have a hard time because the vines here make a trap.”

“Yep, really lucky for us,” An replied as he glanced at the vines dangling overhead, the protruding arms of the trees looking like those of an octopus. Along the path a thick waterfall of small and large vines hung down, some long, some short, but each like a noose that would snare any horse entering the forest. It would be more difficult for a herd of horses. At the very least, someone would have to open the path with a machete, cutting down the vines in order for the horses to make any headway.

Nong Tai turned to tell An, “The jungle where we live does not have these vines.”

“Yes, but we have bigger trees.”

“The vines here have interesting colors. Look, the ones on our left are orange. And the one around the trunk of that tree is of an eggplant purple color.”

“Yes, different soil, different jungle, so the trees are different, too…” An replied as he continued to look up at the vines dangling among the scattered rays of light coming from the setting sun. Nong Tai did not say more, but walked quietly along. Suddenly, An heard a sound— thump —a low but heavy sound, followed by a terribly bad smell. That nasty smell brought back memories from past nights in the jungle around Xiu Village. Tiger!

Leaping forward three steps, An grabbed the trunk of the nearest big tree and climbed up with all the strength he had left in him. Scrambling up to a big branch near the top, he sat with his legs wrapped tightly around the branch, his arms around the trunk of the tree. Only then did he dare look down: the tiger, which had pinned Nong Tai under its forelegs, lifted its neck and looked up at him. Their eyes met. He felt cold sweat on his back. The eyes of this king of the forest widened, sending rays the color of hardened steel mixed with yellow straight into An’s eyes.

He thought, “That tiger knows there is a second prey. It will continue to watch until I fall down. Now I must be very calm to escape this danger.”

An tied his body to the tree with three loops of parachute cord, which he had in one of his pockets. He placed the revolver behind his back for easy access. Then he looked down to contest the animal in a hypnotic stare. Poor Nong Tai: he must have died from the fierce animal’s initial attack without being able to utter a cry. The tiger was clearly one that was used to eating people, one that had realized humans were top-quality prey. Meeting such a tiger automatically opens the door to hell.

The tiger looked to be about six feet long in An’s estimation. It couldn’t have been too old, as its fur was still yellow and its black stripes were precisely edged. An couldn’t stop looking at the animal, perhaps out of fear, or perhaps only out of curiosity. From the age of thirteen he had followed his uncle and the other hunters of Xiu Village into the forest. His uncle had killed many bears, horses, wild boars, buck deer, and more than a dozen tigers. An himself had never been so close to a tiger, nor able to observe how it eats its prey. Never.

The tiger put a foot on Nong Tai’s head and flipped it back and forth in the manner of a child playing with a ball. Then, suddenly, it opened its mouth wide and snapped once at the victim’s neck. An heard the sound of bones being crushed. The tiger took a second bite, severing Nong Tai’s head from his body, and pushed it away with its foot as one would flick away a little marble. An watched the bright red head of his companion roll several times before landing in a nearby bush. He couldn’t breathe; terror paralyzed his limbs. At the same time, a warm stream of water from somewhere ran down his rigid body. An realized that, without knowing it, he had wet his pants. The urine ran along his thighs and continued down to his feet.