Anarchy and the Old Dogs

Dtui Puts on Weight

It was September. A good deal had happened in the People’s Democratic Republic of Laos but nothing had changed. Perhaps it was because news is only news if it comes to fruition. A THOUSAND PEOPLE NOT KILLED IN AN EARTHQUAKE is hardly a headline you’d expect to see in a national newspaper. The failed coup was news that didn’t materialize. The Party decided to keep it to themselves and not trouble the population with it. The people had enough problems of their own. Pasason Lao newspaper saw fit not to mention an ex-minister’s being arrested and sent to seminar, or one or two generals transferred to posts that didn’t exist. In the hands of the Lao Department of Information, something like the Second World War could have ended up as a slight fracas.

The resignation of a senior member of the politburo due to ill health, on the other hand, warranted a full page. It mentioned Civilai Songsawat’s devotion to the Party and his long career of faithful service. In the accompanying photograph he looked full of enthusiasm and vim. It was thirty years old. As few people bothered to read the Pasason Lao, Civilai’s departure, like the August coup attempt, passed unnoticed like fireflies in the midday sun.

At the Mahosot morgue, for the first two weeks, the same could be said. A lot had happened but nothing had changed. Mr. Geung, the morgue assistant who wore his Down syndrome like a fashion statement, was out of the hospital and back at work. He’d laughed at all Dtui’s stories of their exploits in Thailand and understood no more than half of them, but it didn’t matter.

Dr. Siri had betrayed his country but only two people knew that-three if he included the fortune-teller. The shadow behind the wicked man was equally guilty. He’d failed to expose a traitor, settling instead for a compromise. Civilai would leave public office and grow vegetables on the land behind his small house in the old American compound. Being away from his beloved politburo would be punishment enough. Neither of them would talk of the events of the Ubon coup. Siri, after much soul-searching and river watching, decided that he could live with that level of treachery, and got on with his life. Dtui ate, Judge Haeng grumbled, Crazy Rajid walked naked in circles around Nam Poo Fountain. Everything had apparently reverted to the way it was before the blind dentist walked under a Chinese logging truck. But then a day arrived when everything turned upside down.

Siri was in his office, trying in a report to explain an aneurysm of the splenic artery in a way that Judge Haeng might understand. He was referring to Chairman Mao’s Little Red Book for suitable similes when a most unexpected guest walked into the room. Dtui and Geung and Siri all looked up from their desks when Daeng appeared in the doorway.

“Sorry,” she said. “There wasn’t a front doorbell so I thought I should just come in.” Siri walked over to her with a big smile on his face.

“Well, well,” he said. “Apart from Dr. Kissinger, you’re the last person I expected to find standing in my morgue.”

“You know how I am, Siri. I had this impulse, and once I get an idea in my head…”

He introduced her to his staff and sat her on the guest chair in front of his desk.

“Are you in town long?” he asked.

“It’s the funniest thing,” she said. “I thought it would just be a flying visit, see some old friends, do the sights. And there I was at Chantabouli Temple and I spotted this sad little run-down noodle shop with a sign nailed to the front saying it was for sale. I found the owner and she almost begged me to take over the place. All but giving it away, she was.”

“Oh, I say,” Siri blushed. He noticed Dtui grinning over the guest’s shoulder. “Does that mean…?”

“Well, if I can get through all the red tape and paperwork, I may be living here permanently.”

Siri was outwardly flustered but inwardly turning cartwheels. “Excellent. I mean, at last they’ll have some decent noodles in this city. What exactly was the impulse that brought you down here in the first place?”

“Just some historical matter I never did manage to resolve.”

“Is it something I can help with?”

She stood and stretched her old legs. “Oh, I think your input could be integral, Siri. But look at me chatting on. I have to rush. Don’t want to keep you from your… whatever it is you do here. Be good. Nice meeting you all. Bye.”

Siri walked her to the front door and came back with red cheeks and an indelible smile.

“Is that a wicked grin I see on your face, Dr. Siri?” Dtui asked.

“He’s got a g… g… girlfriend,” Mr. Geung posited philosophically.

In the face of this onslaught, Siri elected to remain silent. He pretended he was engrossed in Haeng’s report and ignored all of Dtui’s attempts to draw him away from it. At first, he believed it was her curiosity that caused her to stay after the siren had sounded calling the nursing staff to tend their radishes. It didn’t occur to him that she might have a bombshell or two to drop herself. As he was putting the final sentence into his report, her significant shadow loomed over him. She was directly between him and the low evening sun.

“Nurse Dtui, you’re causing an eclipse.”

“I’ve cut back on banana fritters.”

“Nevertheless…”

She stepped away from the window but continued to look at him.

“I have no intention of discussing Madame Daeng with you at this juncture,” he said.

“It’s not that,” she replied.

She looked uneasy, most un-Dtui-like.

“Sit,” he said. She lowered herself onto the chair in front of his desk. He placed his pen on top of the report and folded his arms. “Speak!”

“I…”

It was the first time he could recall her hesitating.

“You…?”

“I’ve contacted the overseas study committee and told them I… I won’t be going to Moscow in January.”

Siri’s eyes protruded from his face like golf balls. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve asked if I can defer for two years.” He was too stunned to react. Getting a placement on the study program was harder than finding a cold beer in a socialist state. “They said yes.”

“Dtui, have you gone mad? You’ve been cramming for this since you got your nursing certificate. It’s been your dream to study overseas.”

“I know.”

“What in Trotsky’s name happened?”

She leaned forward with her elbows on her lap and knotted her fingers.

“First, there was Ma. I’d always thought if I could go to another country, I’d work part-time and send money back for her treatment. Then she…”

“That was never the only reason, and you know it. You have a sponge for a brain, young Dtui. You thirst for knowledge. You always have. That was always your chief motivation. You have a unique opportunity here. You’ve worked… we’ve all worked too hard to get you there to just give it up. If there’s no other reason…”

“There is.” She sighed. “Can I tell you without your blowing up?”

“I think I’m ready for anything.”

“I’m pregnant.”

He realized he’d lied when he’d said he was ready for anything. If he hadn’t been sitting he would have fallen to the floor.

“What?”

“You heard.”

“How?”

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how.”

Siri was too overwhelmed to bother with good grammar. “I mean-you-how? Who?”

“Now just calm down. I’m not going to give you any details until you start breathing again.”

“I’m not breathless. I’m speechless.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. Perhaps I’ll be able to get a word or two in. Don’t forget, this is a big thing for me, too. A girl doesn’t get pregnant every day. I’m a little bit speechless myself. I’m having a lot of firsts here. First baby, first…”

“Oh my word.” Siri slid open his drawer and fumbled deep inside. “Who was it? Who did this to you?”

“I hope you aren’t looking for a gun in there.”

“If I had one, I’d probably use it on you. But for the present I’m searching for a name card.” He removed the entire drawer and put it on top of the desk. “I know it’s in here somewhere. Come on, I’m waiting for an answer.”

When he looked up he saw her staring down at the tiles. There was a hint of guilt on her face that gave away her secret.

“He didn’t?”

“He did.”

“In Ubon?”

“Twice.”

“Then I do need a gun.”

“No, Doc. Really, you don’t. I didn’t exactly play hard to get.”

“How can you tell so soon?”

“These are the seventies, Doc. There have been great advances in medical science since you went to school.”

“Dtui, this isn’t a game. And he’s married, for goodness’ sake.”

“His wife deserted him. He filed papers for divorce in her absence. It came through last month.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient? Here.” He peeled an old throat lozenge from the name card he sought and held it up triumphantly. “Lucky I kept this. It’s a lady doctor I met through the Women’s Union. She’s perfectly respectable.” He handed her the card.

She read it and her eyebrows rose.

“Dr. Siri, I’m not telling you all this because I want to get rid of the baby. I’m going to keep it.”

“And raise it by yourself?”

“Not exactly.”

“You don’t honestly believe Phosy’s going to do the right thing by you? He’s a randy middle-aged man who merely took advantage of an opportunity.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear you think so highly of him. In fact, I’m a little bit offended myself. What makes you think it was he who took advantage?”

“Dtui, what’s come over you?”

“I think they call it love.”

“Oh, child. What does he say about all this?”

“He seems OK with it.”

“Seems OK?”

“He isn’t a big talker when it comes to feelings and personal odds and ends. But I told him I was going to keep the baby and he said he’d raise it with me.”

“Not the most impassioned proposal I’ve ever heard.”

“He’s a policeman.”

“Right. And you realize, I suppose, that policemen get shot.”

“Only in the movies. Phosy’s a sticky-rice policeman.”

Siri tilted onto the back legs of his chair and leaned against the file cabinet.

“Until I met you, Nurse Dtui, I could outstubborn anyone in the country. Once you make up your mind I know a battery of field artillery can’t shake you. So I’m not going to waste my time.”

“Thanks.”

“I know it’s a terrible decision and it will lead to disaster, but if it’s a boy…”

“Your name’s already penciled in.”

“And I expect to see Phosy here in my office.”

“He’s waiting outside.”

Siri didn’t expect Phosy to turn up with his hat in his hand, but a little more remorse might have been in order. He walked into the office, shook his head, and laughed.

“Who would have thought it?” he said.

“Not me, certainly,” Siri replied. “How could you?”

“Come on, Doctor. I’m not all bad. She could do a lot worse.”

“I’m not so sure. You’re two decades older than she is.”

“Just numbers.”

“Do you love her?”

“No.”

Siri raised his brows. “I was expecting you to think about that for a bit longer. Does she know?”

“We’ve talked about it. Siri, she and I are friends. I respect her. I like her personality, most of it anyway. And she did save my life in Ubon. There’s fate connecting us.”

“Gratitude’s hardly a fitting motive for committing your life to someone. Besides, your life was never really in danger, Phosy. You had someone looking out for you. He wouldn’t have let anything happen to either of you.” Siri knew that Civilai had ensured no harm would come to Dtui or Phosy while they were at the camp.

“Yeah? Who was that then?”

“That I can’t tell you.”

“You know I’ll get it out of you over a drink.”

“I don’t drink anymore.”

“Right. And I hear they’ve drained the Pacific so they can tile the ocean bed.”

“Believe what you want. And stop changing the subject. Dtui’s a daughter to me.”

“Look! I loved a woman in my way and she ran off. So, as far as I’m concerned, love’s overrated. It doesn’t suit me.”

“She loves you.”

“Dr. Siri. I made an offer. She accepted it. She knows I’ll be good to her. I’ll look after our child. We’ll grow old together and fight a lot and laugh a lot. I’m not going to invent an emotion I don’t have, but I’m a stayer.”

“If you ever go back on your word I’ll haunt you for life, and you know that isn’t an idle threat.”

“I promise.”

Siri stared into Phosy’s eyes and beyond them into his mind. “All right,” he said at last. “I believe you.” They shook hands. “Congratulations, Pa.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Sorry. Now, is all the father-son-in-law stuff over with yet? I have some news.”

“Go ahead.”

“The dentist’s wife.”

“What about her?”

“She’s a sow.” Siri once again exercised his eyebrows. “Or, at least, her blood wasn’t human.”

“You don’t say. The test came back from Bangkok?”

“Pure one hundred percent pig.”

“So her murder was staged.”

“The whole marriage was staged. I went back to Dong Bang and asked around. The dentist was a bachelor. They said the woman only turned up a few months before his death.”

“When the letters started.”

“Right. And it appears she only came to the village on certain days. The neighbors assumed she was a nurse or housekeeper. On the day we went there, she just happened to still be around. She was probably trying to figure out a way of getting her hands on the latest note. Waiting for the authorities to send his things home.”

“And we brought it right to her.”

“Remember, she took a while to read it? I wouldn’t be surprised if she was memorizing it.”

“So she was just a courier, there to pick up the week’s code.”

“She just put the old fellow on the bus on letter days and waited for him to bring it back.”

“But why on earth go to all that trouble? Surely she could have just taken his key and picked up the letter herself.”

“She probably would have preferred to do that, but something was stopping her.”

“What?”

“Let’s ask your Inspector Migraine. What do they have at post offices?”

“Stamps?”

“Think of something that might stop her wanting to be seen inside one.”

“Being seen…? I know. Wanted posters. Her picture’s on the wall of the Bureau de Poste.”

“Very good.”

“What did she do?”

“Espionage. She didn’t look it but that lady’s caused a lot of trouble for the new administration. I noticed the poster when I went to ask about Dr. Buagaew’s post box. The Security Division has a file on her a foot thick. The dentist had a little file of his own but only as a suspected Royalist sympathizer. I imagine they didn’t see him as much of a threat, what with his disability and all. He’d had the PO box under a false name for over ten years. I can’t imagine what he was using it for during the old regime.”

“Sleazy dental material from Europe, I wouldn’t wonder. But the woman? Is she still at large?”

“She always seems to be one step ahead of the authorities.”

“How intriguing, an aging adversary. She did a marvelous job of faking her own death to put us off the trail. She deserves a code name. Something to do with the devil, perhaps.”

“Sorry, the Security Division’s already christened her.”

“Probably some very dull name. They don’t have much imagination up there. ‘Woman 17B’?”

“They’re calling her ‘the Lizard.’’’

“Ooh, she must have really upset people in high places. Good for her.”

“Siri, she’s the enemy.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”