Chapter One - Richard Lewis
Chapter One - Richard Lewis Chapter One - Richard Lewis
Chapter 16 On the porch by the plunge pool, Tina finished a cup of early morning coffee and then phoned Reed Davis on her cell. It was early to call, but she wanted to make sure to catch Reed at his house. He famously refused to succumb to the tyranny of the cell phone, as he called it, saying there was little in life that was that urgent. He said he wanted to stretch his remaining years, not speed them up. When he answered, there was no sleepiness to his good morning. "Any chance of me stopping by and seeing you today?" Tina asked. "About what?" he asked cautiously. "1965." He was silent for a moment and then told her to meet him at the Hash House Harrier run that afternoon. "I'm the spiritual advisor," he said. Tina vaguely knew of the Hash, an expatriate ritual where a pack of runners followed trails through the countryside and afterwards drank gallons of beers and sang dirty songs. "What's a spiritual advisor?" "I say grace over the beer." "Do I have to run?" "We can amble," Reed said, and gave directions to the run. That afternoon, Tina drove into the hills beyond Ubud. Following posted signs, she found the Hash runners gathered in a pasture, circled loosely around a beer wagon loaded with kegs and a token box of mineral water. Reed spotted Tina and gave her a brusque wave before clapping his hands to summon the others. "Gather around ye faithful for the prayer," he called. He intoned "Oh Great Hound, may the trails be true, may the on-ons be loud, may the shiggy be deep, and may the beer be cold." "Shiggy?" Tina asked she and Reed started off at a leisurely pace. Already the front runners were on the upper rice terraces, crying "on-on" as they found the splotches of flour marking the trail that the hares had laid. "You'll see," he said. The marked trail led through woods. Monkeys in trees chattered angrily at the interlopers. The woods dipped to a stream, the marked path leading through a wide stretch of mucky bank. Reed pointed to the river mud. "That's shiggy." "I'm not going through that," Tina said. "These are new running shoes I have on." 80
"This way," Reed said, and they made their way back into the woods to a tiny temple, its eroded brick thick with lichen. A deadfall in the clearing provided a place to sit. Crickets chirped and somewhere a bird trilled. In the distance a truck growled in low gear. "Digging sand from the river," Reed said. "Illegal, of course. Nibbling away the island." "It's called progress," Tina said. "You wanted to see me. Here I am." "I've been doing some reading up about 1965 and Gestapu. It's like a postmodernist play ahead of its time. The drama is clear enough, but the audience can interpret it any way they want. A devious Communist plot that went haywire? Sure— Aidit and the politburo weren't innocent angels. Soeharto manipulating his way to power? Why not, the facts can be marshaled in that direction. The CIA masterminding it all? Certainly they had a finger in the pie, why couldn't they baked have the whole thing in the first place?" "Or it was just everybody muddling through," Reed said. "In my research I came across the name Madé Catra. That ring a bell?" "The Batu Gede schoolteacher." "I went digging through some archives and found the letter he wrote to the Harian Rakyat, the letter that doomed him." "He was a good man. Those days, personal virtue didn't amount to squat." "In Batu Gede, there's this legend about a leyak witch called Luhde Srikandi." At the mention of the name, Reed's face twitched briefly. Tina briefly stated the content of the letter. "At the end, Catra mentioned Luhde Srikandi, thanking her for her insight. Proof she's more than just a legend but a real person. But nobody wants to talk about her. Do you know anything?" Reed scratched his cheek, looking aged and weary beyond his already old years. He watched a orange butterfly fluttering on the still air. "No offense, Tina, but I'm not in the mood to talk about this." "Why? Did you sell her hair like you did the others?" Reed gave no reaction, not even a twitch of jaw. "Srikandi was one of Arjuna's wives. The warrior princess. Sumbadra was his demure housewife. You should write a paper, Tina. Feminist iconology in the Hindu epics." "Reed—" "Remember when I told you the trickle of blood started in Batu Gede?" "Yes." "That implies a first victim, doesn't it?" "You knew her? She was a real person?" "Her real head was really chopped off and real blood flowed." "Does she have a name?" "I grew up a WASP and a secret Catholic. My father the icy Presbyterian lawyer, my mother the closet Catholic Italian dragging me in secret to my first communion, Mass in Latin, confession and penance. I've started going to Mass again, sporadically, something about getting old, I guess." The butterfly flittered out of view. "You aren't a priest, Tina, and this," Reed said, nodding at the broken temple, "is not a confessional." 1965 81
- Page 29 and 30: Nol tried to grab it, but Gong toss
- Page 31 and 32: 1965 The Den Pasar ice factory that
- Page 33 and 34: Was she teasing? Reed couldn't tell
- Page 35 and 36: formal sitting parlor visible throu
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- Page 39 and 40: Hotel. The officers liked to flirt
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- Page 43 and 44: "What was found is in safe keeping
- Page 45 and 46: have the bitter past full of injust
- Page 47 and 48: "Your mother's never gotten over it
- Page 49 and 50: Chapter 9 In the hallway of Tina's
- Page 51 and 52: Chapter 10 An elderly Dutch couple
- Page 53 and 54: "Some American woman came by earlie
- Page 55 and 56: Nol knew next to nothing about song
- Page 57 and 58: "Your uncle put together the deal o
- Page 59 and 60: Chapter 11 Nol and Sudana took turn
- Page 61 and 62: "He was a surfer punk harassing Mis
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- Page 67 and 68: The blond girl shrieked and ducked
- Page 69 and 70: one." "And you want to be an actor?
- Page 71 and 72: On the way back, she asked Nol if h
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- Page 87 and 88: Nol crunched the mint. "Wayan, do y
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- Page 117 and 118: Down the beach, Mantera buried his
- Page 119 and 120: "It was a day of low clouds and wes
- Page 121 and 122: Taking a deep breath, he said to Ti
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- Page 129 and 130: Chapter 23 Tina rushed along a wide
<strong>Chapter</strong> 16<br />
On the porch by the plunge pool, Tina finished a cup of early morning coffee and<br />
then phoned Reed Davis on her cell. It was early to call, but she wanted to make sure to<br />
catch Reed at his house. He famously refused to succumb to the tyranny of the cell<br />
phone, as he called it, saying there was little in life that was that urgent. He said he<br />
wanted to stretch his remaining years, not speed them up.<br />
When he answered, there was no sleepiness to his good morning.<br />
"Any chance of me stopping by and seeing you today?" Tina asked.<br />
"About what?" he asked cautiously.<br />
"1965."<br />
He was silent for a moment and then told her to meet him at the Hash House<br />
Harrier run that afternoon. "I'm the spiritual advisor," he said.<br />
Tina vaguely knew of the Hash, an expatriate ritual where a pack of runners<br />
followed trails through the countryside and afterwards drank gallons of beers and sang<br />
dirty songs. "What's a spiritual advisor?"<br />
"I say grace over the beer."<br />
"Do I have to run?"<br />
"We can amble," Reed said, and gave directions to the run.<br />
That afternoon, Tina drove into the hills beyond Ubud. Following posted signs,<br />
she found the Hash runners gathered in a pasture, circled loosely around a beer wagon<br />
loaded with kegs and a token box of mineral water.<br />
Reed spotted Tina and gave her a brusque wave before clapping his hands to<br />
summon the others. "Gather around ye faithful for the prayer," he called. He intoned "Oh<br />
Great Hound, may the trails be true, may the on-ons be loud, may the shiggy be deep, and<br />
may the beer be cold."<br />
"Shiggy?" Tina asked she and Reed started off at a leisurely pace. Already the<br />
front runners were on the upper rice terraces, crying "on-on" as they found the splotches<br />
of flour marking the trail that the hares had laid.<br />
"You'll see," he said.<br />
The marked trail led through woods. Monkeys in trees chattered angrily at the<br />
interlopers. The woods dipped to a stream, the marked path leading through a wide<br />
stretch of mucky bank.<br />
Reed pointed to the river mud. "That's shiggy."<br />
"I'm not going through that," Tina said. "These are new running shoes I have on."<br />
80
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