Chapter One - Richard Lewis

Around a curve in the track marched several dozen women, many carrying
harvesting scythes. They chanted in unison, their voices ringing: "Land for the peasants!
Rice for the workers! "
Parwati, Naniek and Desak strode in the front row of several dozen women.
Naniek held her scythe high, punctuating the air with its sharp tip in rhythm to the chants.
Parwati's scythe was painted red and decorated with hammer and sickle tassles. The front
tails of Desak's kebaya blouse was pulled apart by her growing belly, the unborn child
she would soon have to feed.
Behind the women swaggered a gang of Communist Youth, loose and loud and
boisterous.
The women crossed a ditch and spread out at the edge of field. Parwati handed the
decorated scythe to Desak, who symbolically cut a ripe stalk. The other women cheered
and moved forward to the harvest.
There suddenly appeared a farmer, sprinting toward them along an irrigation
culvert as he shouted furiously. "What are doing, that is my field!"
Parwati waved a document and loudly proclaimed, "The courts have declared
these plots to be re-distributed."
As they argued, several dozen men rallied out from the distant temple,
brandishing staves and spears. Dharma led them, waving a keris blade.
Emboldened by this reinforcement, the lone farmer snatched the document from
Parwati and stomped it into the ground.
Parwati told the women to keep working.
The farmer grabbed the scythe from Desak and swung it, cutting her forearm. Her
scream set off a chain reaction. Three of the Communist youth boys pulled out their own
knives and fell on the farmer, stabbing him in the chest and stomach. He went down, a
pink-purple loop of intestine spilling out of his belly.
Dharma and his men broke into a sprint, shouting war cries.
The women milled uncertainly around the writhing farmer, and when Dharma's
men were only fifty yards ago, most turned and ran. But not Parwati, not Desak, not
Naniek. They stood shoulder to shoulder with grim faces as Dharma's men bore down on
them.
A police truck roared down the cart lane. Cops spilled out and fired weapons into
the air.
Jesus Christ, Reed thought, why hadn't they been out in force in the first place?
Ignoring the chaos of the fleeing women, Reed sprinted for the three women before
Dharma got to them, but he was too late. Dharma grabbed Desak's bleeding hand and
yanked her toward him. "You want to steal our rice?" he roared, his keris at her throat. It
seemed certain he would stab her, but Naniek lunged for him and slapped the keris down.
Reed jumped between them, uncertain whether he could stop Dharma's fury, but the
farmer did hold up, chuffing like an enraged bull.
"Don't get involved in this," he snarled to Reed.
"This is not how to do this," Reed said. He nodded at the farmer on the ground,
groaned and trying to hold in his entrails. "Get him to the hospital."
A police squad surrounded Desak and Parwati, but Reed was already pulling
Naniek away. Dharma stood still, the keris dangling in his hand, and Reed had time
enough to notice the understanding rising in his eyes.
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