Chapter One - Richard Lewis
Chapter One - Richard Lewis Chapter One - Richard Lewis
On the second day of the Galungan holy days, Reed drove his jeep to Batu Gede. Decorated bamboo poles bent over the household gates. Balinese in their finest dress strolled the lanes, out to visit family and friends. The women wore their long hair in the traditional style, curled up into broad-loaf buns. This hair business was getting to the point that Reed was noting heads like a farmer contemplating a harvest. At the Batu Gede hill, Reed passed through the teak forest's cathedral hush and rattled down the switchbacks. A hollow afternoon light spread across the sky, a warm salty sea breeze drifted on the air. At the bottom of the hill, he rounded the last corner. Just ahead Comrade Naniek was bent over her bicycle, examining the bike's flat rear tire. She wore her usual trousers and blouse, a large bag slung over her neck. Standing by was a woman in mended sarong and kebaya buttoned with a safety pin. Reed recognized her from the rally—Desak the salt-maker's wife. Naniek must have been giving her ride into town on the bicycle's back pillion seat. Reed braked to a stop. Naniek looked up, the brim of farmer's hat throwing a sharp line of shadow across her cheeks. "Want a lift?" Reed said. "The bike will fit in the back. Ignoring him, Naniek said to Desak, "We'll have to walk." . Reed eased the jeep into gear, keeping pace as she pushed the bike. "You're being rude," he said. "I'm only offering help." She stopped and gave him another level look. "All right." He hoisted the bike in the back, the rear wheel sticking out over the tail gate, and opened the front side door for the two women. Naniek sat in the middle. She held herself stiff and tidy, limbs all tucked in. "I'm Reed Davis," he said. She gave a side glance out of the corner of her slanted eyes. "You buy hair." He pretended to peek under her hat. "Have you sold yours?" She didn't reply. She held her hands tight in her lap. No rings. No jewelry. The pocket of her bag was open, and Reed could see Gerwani pamphlets. She closed the pocket. Reed leaned across her to introduce himself to Desak. Her skin was sun-darkened and coarse, her hands calloused, her fingernails cracked and yellowed. She had the aura of hardscrabble poverty and gave Reed a nervous twitch of smile. "I'm from a city called Boston," Reed said, switching to English. "One of my ancestors fought in the Battle of Bunker Hill against the British army colonial imperialists. The American leader told his men, 'don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes.' Do you know how close that is? I measured it when I was a kid. I had a pellet gun and a cousin and I told him to march slowly toward my fort and at fifty feet I could see the whites of his eyes. He wasn't very happy when I shot him." Reed was just making noise, figuring the women could understand the friendly tone if not what he was saying. To his delighted surprise, Naniek said primly in English, "You shoot your relatives." "Hey, he was a British reactionary colonial imperialist and I was the revolutionary." The jeep's tires rattled on the wooden planking placed over the irrigation culvert. "Let's see. I'm twenty nine. I've been in Indonesia for four years, Bali for two. My father is a lawyer and I am supposed to be a lawyer too but in college I heard about 82
Bali from a professor there and I said one day I'm going to Bali, and here I am. But I have a terrible confession." She flicked him another side glance. He switched to Indonesian. "I hate durian fruit." She stayed with English. "You speak Bahasa very well. Did you go to CIA language school?" Reed sighed extravagantly. "You Communists have no sense of humor." "A revolution is a serious business. Every citizen must be a soldier." "Who said that? Chairman Mao? Aidit?" "Thomas Jefferson." "Oooh-kay, got me there." He lifted both hands from the steering wheel. "Let's say for sake of argument I'm a lousy CIA running dog spy. Would you really think any less of me?" Did her lips curl slightly at the corners? "You are going to drive off the road." Reed straightened the jeep away from the ditch. "You still haven't told me your name." "You can drop us there," she said, pointing to the old colonial house and Gerwani secretariat. Two young girls were playing hop-scotch on the cracked cement driveway of the empty carport. They broke off their sisterly arguing to stare at Reed as he unloaded the bicycle. Mothers were picking up their tykes from the day care, and the chairwoman Parwati was talking to several of the women. Her gaze cut coldly to the jeep. "Thank you," Naniek said, taking her bike from him. She studied the long-nosed blond monkey Tjok Arsana had painted on the jeep's door. "Looks like me, doesn't it?" Reed said. "The monkey is more much more handsome," she said, and pushed her bicycle through the gate without a backward glance. Wayan Dharma shooed away barking dogs to usher Reed into his compound. He had company, including Wayan Arini, the Bali Hotel assistant manager, and her husband Catra, a slender man with the absent-minded air of a scholar. Reed had brought a gift, half a pound of refined sugar, which he gave to Lastri, Dharma's wife. Sugar was expensive, often hard to find, and she was so pleased she immediately spooned it into new coffee for the several guests. "My brother Catra is the grade school head master," Dharma said proudly. "When I was working the rice fields, he taught me how to read." "And my brother worked so he could pay my school fees," Catra said. "I believe already know my wife Wayan Arini? "You've cut your hair," Reed told her. "It looks good." "In our village, you can tell PNI and PKI women apart just by their hair," Arini said. "The PNI women have short hair and PKI have long hair. Strange, isn't it?" Dharma roared with laughter, hugely amused. In the garden pavilion, Reed sat cross-legged on a mat with the other men and provided his standard history of vagabond adventurer, the youngest of three children, not married. Yes, he said in reply to Dharma's joke, there was a chance he might bring a 83
- 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
- Page 37 and 38: "Nothing would give me greater plea
- Page 39 and 40: Hotel. The officers liked to flirt
- Page 41 and 42: "You know," Sudana said, "I have a
- 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
- Page 63 and 64: Arini replied with a nod, tucking t
- Page 65 and 66: Chapter 12 After early morning flag
- 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
- Page 73 and 74: LBJ's State Department had been so
- Page 75 and 76: Arini hung up the ironed dress and
- Page 77 and 78: The next morning, Nol walked to the
- Page 79 and 80: He told the receptionist, and then
- Page 81: "This way," Reed said, and they mad
- Page 85 and 86: damp, and she was brushing it with
- Page 87 and 88: Nol crunched the mint. "Wayan, do y
- Page 89 and 90: Nol didn't like the sounds of this
- Page 91 and 92: "Hush, you silly boy. Don't mention
- Page 93 and 94: Nol braked a sudden stop. "Give tha
- Page 95 and 96: The Zoo child didn't wilt. An unhap
- Page 97 and 98: "It is only my wife," Gusti said. "
- Page 99 and 100: At the Gerwani house, the late afte
- Page 101 and 102: The railroads were heavily PKI. "Wh
- Page 103 and 104: uilding's lobby, two men intercepte
- Page 105 and 106: Reed leaned back against the cushio
- Page 107 and 108: "Yes," she said. "I am." She studie
- Page 109 and 110: Arini murmured, "Lieutenant Colonel
- Page 111 and 112: "At the Batu Gede rally I asked peo
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- Page 115 and 116: Chapter 21 An hour after sunrise, T
- 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
- Page 123 and 124: treacherous Communists, the Army qu
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- Page 129 and 130: Chapter 23 Tina rushed along a wide
- Page 131 and 132: Chapter 24 On the night of the full
Bali from a professor there and I said one day I'm going to Bali, and here I am. But I have<br />
a terrible confession."<br />
She flicked him another side glance.<br />
He switched to Indonesian. "I hate durian fruit."<br />
She stayed with English. "You speak Bahasa very well. Did you go to CIA<br />
language school?"<br />
Reed sighed extravagantly. "You Communists have no sense of humor."<br />
"A revolution is a serious business. Every citizen must be a soldier."<br />
"Who said that? Chairman Mao? Aidit?"<br />
"Thomas Jefferson."<br />
"Oooh-kay, got me there." He lifted both hands from the steering wheel. "Let's<br />
say for sake of argument I'm a lousy CIA running dog spy. Would you really think any<br />
less of me?"<br />
Did her lips curl slightly at the corners? "You are going to drive off the road."<br />
Reed straightened the jeep away from the ditch. "You still haven't told me your<br />
name."<br />
"You can drop us there," she said, pointing to the old colonial house and Gerwani<br />
secretariat.<br />
Two young girls were playing hop-scotch on the cracked cement driveway of the<br />
empty carport. They broke off their sisterly arguing to stare at Reed as he unloaded the<br />
bicycle. Mothers were picking up their tykes from the day care, and the chairwoman<br />
Parwati was talking to several of the women. Her gaze cut coldly to the jeep.<br />
"Thank you," Naniek said, taking her bike from him. She studied the long-nosed<br />
blond monkey Tjok Arsana had painted on the jeep's door.<br />
"Looks like me, doesn't it?" Reed said.<br />
"The monkey is more much more handsome," she said, and pushed her bicycle<br />
through the gate without a backward glance.<br />
Wayan Dharma shooed away barking dogs to usher Reed into his compound. He<br />
had company, including Wayan Arini, the Bali Hotel assistant manager, and her husband<br />
Catra, a slender man with the absent-minded air of a scholar. Reed had brought a gift,<br />
half a pound of refined sugar, which he gave to Lastri, Dharma's wife. Sugar was<br />
expensive, often hard to find, and she was so pleased she immediately spooned it into<br />
new coffee for the several guests.<br />
"My brother Catra is the grade school head master," Dharma said proudly. "When<br />
I was working the rice fields, he taught me how to read."<br />
"And my brother worked so he could pay my school fees," Catra said. "I believe<br />
already know my wife Wayan Arini?<br />
"You've cut your hair," Reed told her. "It looks good."<br />
"In our village, you can tell PNI and PKI women apart just by their hair," Arini<br />
said. "The PNI women have short hair and PKI have long hair. Strange, isn't it?"<br />
Dharma roared with laughter, hugely amused.<br />
In the garden pavilion, Reed sat cross-legged on a mat with the other men and<br />
provided his standard history of vagabond adventurer, the youngest of three children, not<br />
married. Yes, he said in reply to Dharma's joke, there was a chance he might bring a<br />
83
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