Chapter One - Richard Lewis

Chapter 24
On the night of the full moon, a throng of Balinese and expats and drive-by
tourists celebrated the organic salt harvest with a mix of Balinese ceremony and Western
carnival. Fortified by vodka, Reed danced the dance of the bumbling bulé. He wore his
sarong tied like a woman. He poked himself with his warrior's keris. He flapped his arms
and his legs got stuck in arthritic poses. Everyone howled. It was a great success.
Bowing, he slipped into the background, where he sipped another tonic and
vodka. Children raced about, a number of them half-Western, half-Asian. A young
French glass-maker hovered solicitously by his lovely pregnant Balinese wife. Reed had
attended their shotgun wedding, one of the most talked about in years, for the lad's
mother, direct from Paris, had stormed into the ceremony to knock down offerings and
smash plates.
Reed poured his vodka into a hibiscus bush. He'd been in the spotlight and now he
was alone, and melancholy sifted down from the stars to settle on him with memories
more bitter than sweet.
1965
Three times. Once a month for the next three months. That was how often Reed
was able to see Naniek.
Before the world went mad.
Each time was at the Tampaksiring Cottages. A day or two before the tryst, Mak
Jangkrik would show up at Reed's bungalow and after a litany of complaints, from her
tired legs to the spiraling price of kerosene, would pass on Naniek's note saying she'd be
free. On these visits, Mak always chaperoned her. The two women took an early bus and
spent the day at Tampaksiring before catching the last bus before dark. Mak refused to
allow Reed to drive them. She kept to herself on the cottage porch and left them alone,
but made sure that Reed behaved himself. He didn't mind. This was how things were
done in this country.
He and Naniek strolled in the ragged garden, picnicked on mats in the shade of
the wispy casuarinas trees, watched the fish swimming in the temple's spring that bubbled
pure as crystal out of fine sand.
Naniek was a vegetarian, although she did eat some fish for protein. On Fridays
she did not eat at all and saved the money for the Gerwani charity for the poor. She
owned a dress, a skirt, two pairs of trousers for riding her bicycle, several blouses, and
her canvas sneakers. She didn't need money. When she rode her bicycle to villages for
evening meetings on nutrition and health, she knew that there would be rice to eat and a
place to sleep.
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