Chapter One - Richard Lewis

"Thanks, but I got to finish my packing," she said. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Have
to get back. A ton of work to catch up on." She held out a strand of hair. "Plus a visit to
my hairdresser, the only person in the world who knows what to do with my mop."
"Drive safe," he said, and bent to kiss her on the cheek. "That car of yours has a
mind of its own. You sure the steering's connected to the wheels?"
She laughed and put the car in reverse, the vehicle reluctantly obeying. "I'll see
you around," she said, with a final wave. As she drove off, she felt oddly unsatisfied, as if
she'd just watched a TV series that was missing half its final episode, where all the loose
ends were neatly tied up.
During the visit to Men Djawa, she'd kept to the background with Doctor Lim,
figuring Reed deserved a private moment but eavesdropping nonetheless from the
doctor's back porch. It'd been an weirdly anticlimactic moment. She been hoping for an
explosion of joy, a warmth of happiness to bask in. A naïve expectation, really.
On the doctor's porch this had hit home. All her adult life she'd thought that if
only Nancy's bones could be found then she wouldn't wake up at mornings feeling like a
loathsome immovable object. But now, with the Safari sputtering along, she had the
notion that finding Nancy's bones wouldn't much change things. It'd only stir and shift the
shadows a bit. Even telling Reed the secret she carried with her like a ball and chain
hadn't been any cleansing confession. Forgiveness—yeah, the theory was easy all right,
but the practice was like hoisting yourself up by your bootstraps. How did you start?
Grabbing the straps just meant you were scrunched over your boots like an idiot.
Arini, Nol, Dharma, Mantera—the truth had come out. The bones found by the
beach had been identified, maybe not officially, but people now knew. Tina had heard
names being murmured. But what of it? Life in Batu Gede would stay its course and the
world would turn as it always had.
There wasn't much packing to do, clothes and a few books and papers. She held
the framed photo of her and Nancy. She touched Nancy's school-marm face, wishing she
could form that expression into something more lovable and less accusing. "I am so
sorry," she said. "Please forgive me." The words were easy to say, but no emotion
followed in their wake. Well, it was the best she could do. She folded the frame and
slipped it into the side pocket of her suitcase.
Out in the garden she burned the facsimile of Catra's letters and the photos of
Arini and Mantera and the granary and the notes she'd jotted. As the paper smoldered she
contemplated the plunge pool. She'd never used it, and she wasn't about to have a
goodbye dip either. The water had turned a murky green, which was somehow a fitting
symbol of…of everything, Tina decided.
A dozen feet away, in the mulch of the hibiscus plants hedging the wall, a
movement caught her eye. A snake, brown and well camouflaged, pausing to taste the air
with its tongue. Tina waved an arm, catching its attention, and it rose a foot and spread its
hood. Delighted by this National Geographic moment, Tina laughed. "Go away, would
you. Eat a rat or something."
The snake relaxed and slipped down a hole.
"So you do like snakes," a voice said dryly. Tina turned. Arini had appeared from
the back garden, carrying the brass iron. "My son was quite amazed by that."
204