Chapter One - Richard Lewis

Nol felt his face burn. Another one of Raka's humiliating insults. He wanted to rip
open the envelope and throw the bills around the office. But five million was five million,
and he still had expenses to pay for the upcoming toothfiling ceremony. His hand reached
out and closed around the envelope.
Returning home, Nol drove into traffic clogging the Renon wantilan. The
cockfights were back on. Men streamed into the pavilion, many carrying their fighting
cocks in their wicker satchels. Nol clamped his hands on the wheel and clenched his jaws
and stared resolutely ahead. How easy it would be to join the gamblers and for while
forget all his troubles. When the cocks were put into the ring, the acid hope and searing
anticipation stripped everything away. For those few furious seconds of chickens at
battle, nothing else in the world mattered.
He would not stop he would not stop he would not stop, and he did not stop, but
once he was well past, he found himself swinging the car around the Renon square.
What saved him was the sight of a familiar black BMW nudged into the shade of
the park's trees.
Was Gong here somewhere, enjoying a snack from the food vendors ringing the
huge field?
Nol parked on a side street. Rummaging under his seat, he took out the tire iron.
The cool hard heft of the metal felt good, felt just right.
Energetic folks who didn't mind the afternoon's late heat were jogging or powerwalking
on the paths, but Gong wouldn't be one of them. He'd be eating. Parked under
shady trees along the walkways were food carts, the vendors offering sweet young
coconuts. Nol scrutinized the patrons as he strolled, mostly low ranking bureaucrats from
the nearby government offices and students from local schools.
In his peripheral vision, Nol noticed an elderly couple on the path strolling toward
him. There was something about the woman that made him look directly at her.
By all the gods upon the holy mountain, it was Mother.
And strolling beside her, tapping his cane, was Mantera.
Nol quickly stepped behind a tree. His mother and Mantera were having a tense
argument. His mother was biting her lips and blinking hard, as though to keep away tears.
Mantera frowned at the bricks before him. He tapped them hard with his cane as if testing
them, to find a weak one to shatter.
Why did he continue to harass her like this?
Nol gripped the tire iron. He pictured himself charging forward to save his
mother, but his feet remained rooted in the grass. His mother gripped Mantera's elbow.
They were already walking away from him. He didn't have a good angle, but she
appeared to be leaning in toward Mantera, telling him something. Then she veered away
and hailed a taxi passing on the street.
Mantera watched her get in, his thin face set in harsh lines.
Shortly after dark, Arini returned home with from the library. Nol had been
waiting for his mother and followed to her porch.
He was going to ask her what she'd been doing with Mantera in the Renon square
this afternoon, but the words didn't make it to his tongue. Instead he asked, "Mother, you
heard what happened at Suti's shop this morning?"
She paused in the evening's shadows. "Yes, I'm sorry."
140