Chapter One - Richard Lewis

The elders of the village, including A. A. Mantera and Dharma, took seats at the
head table, near the gurgling water fall. A.A. Gdé Raka sat by his father. There was no
reason that Nol could see for Raka to so arrogantly assume such a seat of honor. Why,
people would start talking how Raka wanted to shove his own father out the picture and
take over the family empire.
High overhead, florescent lights buzzed, casting Nol's shadow before and behind
and to the side, as if three of the four guardian spirits that had been born with him were
made visible. If this was so, then where was the fourth? It was a silly notion, but
nonetheless Nol felt unsettled and vulnerable.
Several men scurried in late, taking the last of the open chairs. Beyond the open
windows, people had gathered in the night shadows, figures in the dark.
Mantera rose, his cheekbones shiny triangles of thin flesh. "Now that the chickens
are all down from the trees, we can start," he said.
Mantera had five shadows around him, Nol noticed. As if he had stolen one of
Nol's.
"We have among us at this table honorable men who speak wisely," Mantera
began, "but I hope you will kindly listen to an old man like me." With formal courtesy, he
thanked the VIPs by name for being present. He also acknowledged the sole woman at
the head table, her eyes big behind thick glasses, mentioning her as Dr. Professor of
Archeology at Bali University and board member of the Historical Museum.
"This is an open meeting but it is off the record," Mantera said. He lifted his gaze
and addressed the lurkers beyond the windows. "This includes those of you who do not
wish to join us openly."
Before Mantera could continue, there was a heavy slap-slap of sandals in the hall,
and everyone at the tables turned to look. A Western woman was carrying a stool from
the kitchen, which she placed off the table's corner nearest Nol. Her frizzy hair looked as
if a child had drawn it around her head with an orange crayon. She sat down, dipping her
head in apology for the interruption, and folded her hands in her lap.
The interrupted moment closed in over itself like water, and Mantera continued.
"As we all know," he said, "this morning, twelve skeletons were discovered at a
construction site. This is not an archeological find. Am this correct, Dr. Professor?"
The archeologist adjusted her glasses on her nose and agreed that it was not an
archeological find. She said that for accuracy's sake, twelve skulls had been found but she
had identified at least thirteen skeletal remains. She added that it was common to find
incomplete remains at mass burial sites
Mantera smoothly asked the Chief of Police, "And the police are not processing
this as a murder?"
"Not at this time," the Chief said, a nice political hedge against the uncertain post-
Soeharto future.
From beyond a window a man said, with a belligerent tone, "Where are the
remains now?"
Mantera was unruffled. "For those of you who wish to speak, please do join us
here in the light so we can know who you are. There is room enough to stand."
Nol had to admire this, the way Mantera so politely gave warning.
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