Chapter One - Richard Lewis

In the back of a shed, a tin pot stood on a stones, under which were ashy remains
of firewood. In the pot was leftover a boiled cassava root and a few limp leaves. "Who's
doing the cooking?"
"Me," Sri said.
From beyond the back wall, there rose voices, the loudest complaining in
Balinese, "Somebody's hiding there. They've been raiding my garden."
Sri scooted over to Reed and pressed herself against him. Endang squeezed her
eyes shut and hugged herself. She whimpered. Bending over, Reed took her hand and
said, "It's all right. You're with me. I'll keep you safe. But we have to go." He tugged her
to her feet and, with an arm around each small shoulder, shepherded the girls out of the
shed to the jeep.
"Father Louis took them in but they still weren't safe," Reed told Tina, as the
drunken Hashers broke into a lewd song. "The new civil authorities in Denpasar,
Soeharto's New Order, investigated orphanages and children's homes, to ferret out the
kids with Communist origins. Father Louis smuggled the girls to Singapore. They were
adopted by a Dutch-Indonesian couple. I saw them a couple times before the family
returned to Holland. Sri was prattling Dutch, and and Endang, well, she was getting a lot
of loving and starting to come out of her shell. The couple were good people—what?"
Tina's face was shining, her eyes dancing. "My God, Reed, don't you know about
their mother?"
"Parwati? Dead in concentration camp, I'd guess. And their father didn't have a
hope in hell."
"No no no! She showed up in Batu Gede a few years ago, calling herself as Men
Djawa. She sold cakes in the market and went around asking if anybody had seen her
daughters. When they found the bones, she flipped out. She's now at a private mental
clinic in Gianyar."
Reed rubbed his jaw. "They're probably middle-aged Dutch dowagers clopping
along in those wooden shoes."
"God, Reed. She's still their mother."
"Are you sure it's her?"
"Who else could it be?" Tina suddenly leaned forward. "That photo in your house.
Those two girls playing hopscotch."
"Sri and Endang."
"Take that to her and show her. Tell her."
"I guess," Reed, but he was still doubtful.
"She needs to know, Reed. There is peace in just knowing."
"I don't think it's going to be as simple all that. There's no magic wand to wave
that will make everything all right."
Tina frowned, the wrinkles of her brow pressing her eyes together, the irises
darkening. "I wish somebody could show me a photograph of my sister, tell me where
she is, tell me she's safe." Her frown deepened, and she squeezed her lips tighter. She
inhaled harshly through her nose and then blurted, "There's something I haven't told
anybody. Not ever. Not my parents, not the police, not my succession of shrinks."
Reed leaned back in alarm. "You don't have to tell me," he said quickly.
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