Oh, Chida. Brow like the crust of a baguette, golden and smooth; hair stuck to the balm on her heated charcoal lips. Legs wash-cycle fresh with good fat like the outer ring of a chop. I kissed her and she pulled away and returned to my lips with revenge. Sex was a vicious counter attack and I loved it. Eventually she let me inside and I came with force. She rolled from the wet spot and sank into my chest, looking up. I was her savior and she was mine. From what, I didn't know. I would have done anything for her except leave my wife and be seen differently by my family. 

The looping silence of night kept us company. Her farm was on a wide swath of machete cut land and the jungle constantly wrestled for reclamation. Trees and bushes stood like palisades and beyond held the snarling teeth of the wild. Bugs and anything camouflaged midnight created noise that blended so perfectly with silence it wasn't until it was gone that a person noticed. When it was gone that meant trouble. There were predators everywhere. 

I loved Chida as much as a family man could. This was wrong and I knew it. I wasn't one of those do-a-thing-and-justify-it-to-myself kind of people. The world was a series of halves, blacks and whites, nights and days. 

"If you wanted, you could do anything to me," she said. 

"What does that mean?" 

"Not like that. I mean you could be mean or not talk to me anymore. I wouldn't care." 

"Why would you say such a thing?" 

"I know you love me and I'm ready for however this will end." 

"Predicting the future will have you in jackets that button from the back." 

I was red faced without any powder left. Wasn't in the mood for a conversation that would alter my mood. This wasn't fair to Chida, I knew, but a man holding a town together with cuffs and eroding handguns needed quiet in the after-hours. I reached for my clothes.  

"Why won't you spend the night?" 

"I stay up too late and you get up too early." 

"I deserve better than you." 

"Don't say that." 

"I do. When can we be together?" 

"We are now." 

"I want you all the time. I want to be your wife." 

"We'll talk about this later." 

"I love you." 

"I love you too." 

Chida was on the impervious side of thirty. She recently had a birthday party I didn't attend. There was jewelry and clothes in disregarded piles at the foot of her canopy bed. There was also stacks of American records and compact discs, all with female lead singers. Her favorite was Pat Benatar, who she listened to on a Rega P3 turntable. She chose her playback equipment according to the era in which it was produced.  

"Stay." 

"Can't," I said. 

She made a show of hiding in the fluff of her pillow. I didn't have anything else to say so I snuck into the obscurity of a clouded moon. The main house where her father lived was across the fields and barely visible except for two moth covered bulbs. It had long verandas and a colonial view of the crops. My beeper went. Ever present. I got into town and called the station from a phone outside a market far enough from the main square to stay afloat.  

"Ar?" 

"Yeah," I said. 

"Have a messy one. Out past the dump." 

"A body?" 

"Yeah." 

I bought some gum and coffee while trying not to look at the cigarettes. The coffee made me think of mouthwash. Kept me awake though and I would need it, during these kinds of investigations the sun got more sleep than I did.  

The dirt roads were dry and quick but the ruts tried pulling me into the stilted, tinder houses on the fringes. There was concrete for a stretch in the canned part of town, full of axle testers that grew with every rain. To the right was the river, bean paste brown, wooden fishing boats with red and blue canopies tied together so tightly it blocked access to the water from the sandy banks. Left was apartment buildings, ten to twelve high but nothing bigger, wires shooting into them from every which way, so tangled there's a new electrical inspector every half year.  

When I passed the dump I unrolled my window and offered an elbow to the breeze. I wondered about the body. Wondered about Chida and how long she would accept our situation. Wondered if being with her all the time would fill the cracks.  

The road shrank the further I traveled. Gravel to dirt to mud to a pair of skinny tracks that would disappear with a bit of sun and rain. Lights ahead. Couple vehicles parked crooked on top of broken stems. 

Kress came looking for direction right away, notebook and chewed pencil in hand. He was rookie pale. He started on a bike and worked his way up, probably hitting ticket quotas and sharing bribes with the right people. Now he was examining a dead body and contemplating the depths of humanity. 

"Arun," he said. 

"Where's Midde?" 

"I got Hoi to page her but she hasn't arrived yet." 

"You going to be alright?" I asked. 

"Yes, sir. It's kind of a shock." 

"I'll bet. Those specialists here?" 

"They're on their way from Kengonxiang. Only myself and Jinn so far." 

"Who's car is that, then?" 

"I think it might be the victims." 

The passenger side door was open. I moved around to the driver's side and there were claw marks on the paneling and the window was smashed. Footprints, hoofprints, clawprints, whatever you wanted to call them, came from the bushes. They were large, unlike any creature I had seen. I opened the driver's door. There was a drink in the cup holder spilled over on the emergency brake. The victim was in a panic to get out.  

I wrote down some notes and followed the footprints to the scene. It was fucking disgusting. A pile of bones and half eaten organs and chunks of skin and fat. The only part of the head that remained was a shard of skull with a stringy tuft of hair. 

"Fuck," I said and held the back of my hand to my mouth. 

Kress looked susceptible to a draft so I told him to sit somewhere without a view of the scene. Jinn canvassed the area and came back. 

"The tracks keep going as far as I could see," she said. "Should I follow them?" 

"Who reported this?" 

"Anonymous tip." 

Why anonymous?  

The blood was still fresh, whoever gave the tip knew more than anyone here. I wrote a reminder to get Hoi to put in a request to BaraCom, although I was sure she already did.  

Looking around tempted me but I knew the baggers and taggers were en route.  

"Wait here," I told Jinn. 

I went back to the car and found a name in the glove compartment. Cesi Kaung, address near the tourist area if you called it that. I couldn't think of any scenario why she would be driving her shitty car on a shitty road by a shitty dump.  

Midde showed with a cigarette hanging from her mouth and the American trained specialists clipping her heels.  

"Where have you been?" I asked her, though I knew: she was looking at ceilings through bottles. 

"Busy," she said, coughing, temporarily taking the cigarette from her mouth. 

"Arun?" One of the specialists asked. 

"Right there," I said, pointing to the scene.  

They put on astronaut suits and pounded stakes in the ground and wrapped fluorescent tape around the area.  

"Jinn," I said. "You follow the tracks from the car, take Kress. Midde, come with me, we're going to see where they go." 

Midde had a belly that could extinguish fire so she didn't flinch when we passed the leftovers. She kept smoking her cigarette.  

"Some kind of animal, not even worth it." 

"Probably." 

"Definitely." 

"You never know." 

"You have a dumb way of investigating things." 

"Follow procedure and don't send the innocent to jail." 

"It's an animal." 

We slid down an embankment and crossed a stream. The tracks were easy to follow, whatever made them crushed all plant life as it went, creating a hip high trail through the brush. It was dark though, ocean floor black when we were underneath the jungle's awning. Got creepy enough for me to palm my revolver. Times like that are when the ears start hearing things and the brain starts inventing creatures for them. Wasn't too hard when there was a body like butcher's waste behind us. The tracks continued. 

The ferns and leaves soaked our pants from the knees down, the loose footholds and humidity was doing the same from the waste up. My gun was slipping but it felt too necessary to put it away.  

"So, where were you?" I asked Midde. 

"Dancing at the hall." 

"You don't strike me as a shaker." 

"I'm not, but it's something I'm trying to do more. All the other girls do it and I think it's time I start seeking a husband. I want someone to take care of me." 

"There's a lot of men that will expect you to do that." 

"Take care of them?" 

"Yes." 

"Fuck them." 

She brought a clump from her throat and ejected it into the brush.  

"Sorry," she said. 

Wasn't sure if the apology was for the spit or language but I shrugged either way. She wasn't usually compunctious. 

She lit another cigarette and I went ahead of her so I didn't have to smell it. 

"Why can't they like me for who I am? I can skin animals and drink two and a half bottles of malt and still put a bullet in the red. Everybody's looking for something different until they find it." 

"Well, I would say there's someone out there for you, but they're probably in a different country with millions of people and they wouldn't understand a word you say." 

We stopped at a clearing to renavigate and she drifted a couple smoke circles into the darkness. They stayed together long enough to disappear.  

"There," she said, sticking a finger out. We continued. 

"How did you decide you wanted to marry Thera?" 

"Seemed like the correct thing to do." 

"Why?" 

"Because she gave me her virginity." 

"So romantic." 

"Romance has nothing to do with marriage. It's about producing offspring and finding a suitable woman to run the household while the man works." 

"If we were married I would put poison in everything you ate. You don't believe in any of it? No love, nothing?" 

"I believe in love." 

"You're a riddle. A moron, too." 

"We're friends but it doesn't mean there isn't toilets to clean at the station." 

Right when my body started reminding me of an old sports injury the tracks vanished. The grass was mashed into the earth and then there was nothing. We searched until we thought our own footprints were the tracks. 

"Let's get back," I said. "I'll send Jinn and Kress tomorrow." 

The woman's guts were in clear plastic bags. I decided to skip eating food the next time I was hungry. The American-trained specialists were packing and looking to put space between them and the five o'clock two-tons. Jinn and Kress didn't find anything and they didn't want to see the bags. 

One of the specialists, body like he was born with a brick on his head, approached while stepping from his moon suit.  

"We'll have the results in the morning. I will fax them to your station." 

"Animal?" 

"We do not make assumptions. That is up for you to decide when we present our findings." 

I sent my people home and finished my cold coffee as I battled with the grease carts to pilot my jeep to Cesi Kaung's address. She was in a building painted by someone trying to use up the rest of their paint. Pinks, oranges, blues, greens. Cheerful if building exteriors changed your mood. The inside had a European feel, invasive and baroque. Her apartment was a three flight huff from the unattended lobby and there was no one home when I knocked. I thought of trying her neighbors but figured it would be better at night when they were relaxing with a beer after dinner.  

The porch light greeted me as I parked in our yard. Thera cooked breakfast in our corner kitchenette; sour soup with noodles and eggs and a nose tingling amount of fish sauce. When I vowed to miss my next meal I wasn't smelling Thera's food.  

I sat and she didn't feel I was more important than the soup and I didn't blame her. She eventually poured me a bowl and I added chili paste until the sides of my hair were slick.  

"Hey daddy!" I heard behind me. 

Yon was up and brighter than the sunshine, a pleasant sight after a night spent in the jungle. 

"Who the hell was that?" I asked Thera without looking back. She readied a bowl for Yon with her back to me. 

Yon faced me and smiled, front teeth long enough to make them abnormal. "Who the hell are you?" I asked her. 

She kept on smiling. She was a morning person and I was a night person and it was good to meet when I hadn't slept and she had just woke.  

"Where were you?" 

"Filing papers, answering the phones," I said. 

Thera picked a couch and a magazine and that was the end of her involvement. 

"All night?" 

"I've tried to leave them and hope they file themselves but they never do. What's happening in school today?" 

"We're learning about Japan and China. In math we're studying those shapes." 

"You're in grade seven and you call geometry 'studying those shapes?'" 

"I'm not good at math." 

"That sounds like something idiots say before they give up." 

"I don't know what to do." 

"Study harder. I won't accept excuses." 

With that she got quiet, probably thinking of her next report card. If there was anything less than a seventy five in math she would be watching nights from her bedroom window.  

The phone rang. Thera answered it promptly and handed it to me.  

"Yes?" I said. 

"It's Hoi. A UN representative called looking for you. He said he is driving from the capital today." 

"Really? Why?" 

"He didn't say." 

She gave me a number and a name. I disconnected and stood for a second. There was only a couple reasons the blue helmets rolled in and all of them were bad.

2: Two

2.

There was a temple in the jungle that always had a candle lit. I never knew who kept the thing going. Villagers probably brought Guangdong specials from a bag-it-yourself and replaced them when they were done touching their noses to the dirt, but I always liked to think a candle guardian lived a solitary existence in some shack with a bucket toilet and made the temple trek twice a day to make sure tradition wouldn't die while he was alive. 

My father believed a man was a mosaic of his choices but he also believed the gods influenced everything we did. As a young man I knew that was a dichotomy before I owned a dictionary. Long ago I decided to choose one or the other and now I can go right to sleep instead of asking my subconscious to change things it doesn't have the power to do. Although, when I was forgetting more than I was remembering, I still liked to find a shrine or a temple and sit outside and watch the rituals.  

If I had any type of outside force guiding my decisions it would be my family. That was my religion. I loved my daughter and wife. Growing up I knew my parents and brother were behind me with nets stretched tight, hell, my brother took a skin shredder between the lower ribs for me, and I believed Yon and Thera were made of the same potency. Sure, Thera and I didn't speak as often as we should but we were both content with our parental duties. Every second or third cycle I would bring her flowers and ginger candies in case she was feeling underappreciated.  

+ 

Before napping I wished Yon a good day at school and gave her tips for developing a consistent work ethic. I kissed Thera on the cheek and washed my face with lukewarm water because it was the only temperature the faucet produced.  

I dreamt of a great black plain with no end, only ninety degree angles that pivoted when I reached them and brought another black plain around. 

I got some movement from the small hand before I woke and threw some coffee in my stomach. The capital was twelve hours away if there wasn't traffic and I wanted to fill out the Kaung paperwork so it wasn't swinging above me.  

The government gave us an abandoned bakery for a police station and a measly budget for renovations. It lounged on a bluff overlooking a crook in the river. Gravel lot, gravel yard. Roots from teak trees caught the feet of people who weren't watching them. The lobby was the nicest part. An official seal above Hoi's desk, metallic lettering, grey and deep blue paneling. It was sunglasses on a dog's ass. Once you stepped through into the booking and office area, wires hung in your face, dust and hidden yeast attacked your nostrils, and loose chunks of brick tested your responsiveness. In the very back we had the reinforced holding tanks which typically held drunk factory workers after payday. 

"Morning," Hoi said. 

I nodded. "I need the next of kin for the girl last night. Are Jinn or Kress in?" 

"No, but Midde is." 

"Really?" 

"Uh-huh. Are we going to have a chance to talk about my cruise soon?" 

"What cruise?" 

"My husband booked a river cruise for us and I was wondering if I could get some extra days off." 

"When?" 

"In two weeks." 

"Sure, go ahead. We'll deduct them from next year." 

"But I didn't take my full amount last year." 

"That's not how it works," I said and walked away before she could respond. 

Midde was either studying a document closely or catching up on sleep. I poked her with the eraser end of a pencil and she sent me a gust of stale beer. 

"Yeah?" She said. 

"Have a couple after going home?" 

"No, I had a bunch." 

"You need coffee and gum." 

"Yeah?" 

"And you need to go Kaung's apartment and interview her neighbors." 

"Alright." 

She had a stare like an animal looking at a mirror. Bottle rotted brain and body a length behind.  

"Now," I said loud enough for her to push her chair out. 

For the next three coffees I filled out paperwork in my office. Jinn and Kress popped in around one and I told them to go back to the scene and look for anything we missed.  

The paperwork was getting to me so I went into the den and yelled at our two traffic officers when I saw them treads-up at their desks. They hadn't met quota in three months which meant they were either well rested or well fed and that annoyed me. Bricks wouldn't put themselves back together.  

I went back to the paperwork and ran a background check on Kaung. Four noise complaints and an ex-boyfriend that prompted a change of locks. Hoi came in with a scowl she assumed I cared about and the results from the specialists. The DNA test confirmed it was Kaung and the substance they found in the shredded car door was keratin, the material covering an animal's horn. Instead of finishing the whole report I stopped when I read 'inconclusive' for the eighteenth time. 

So, there it was. I found it difficult to believe a former lover could rip her to shreds and eat her fucking skull. If I went further it conjured images of some love-struck fool training a bloodthirsty animal to attack his ex-girlfriend. Not plausible either. 

Why was she out there? 

That was the question that needed answering. With that in hand we could ready the paintbrushes. As much as I hated to think it, depending on what this UN guy said, we might never find out. People died from animal attacks all the time, especially here. We didn't have big enough plates, even if this one was so damn peculiar.  

No giving up before it's over, I told myself. I would wait and see what my investigators found. 

For an early dinner I had fried fish and pickled chilies on rice. Had a beer too and another right after when it went too quick. I thought about Chida and got hard and I wasn't sure if that meant love but it damn sure meant I would stop by her place before walking through my front door.  

The man from the UN was sitting in my office writing in his diary. He had his hat yanked low so it shaded his eyes. He wasn't from this time zone; he had icebergs in his oceans. A nice tailored suit covered his wrists and polished cuff links poked up when he raised hand to chin. 

I gave him a good long look when I sat because I liked fucking with anybody that wore a suit to work. To his credit he gave it right back.  

"So," he said. I won. "I need your assistance." 

"Yeah? We're kind of busy." 

"I have the blessing of central command. You're to drop whatever you're doing." 

"Maybe I can spare one of our uniforms." 

"No, you, Arun. One of your unscrupulous traffic officers won't be suitable for my needs. If this bothers you in any way you can contact Lieutenant Mamin in the capital and receive your orders directly from him. However, in the interest of saving time, how about you listen to what I tell you and we proceed from there?" 

"What's your name?" 

"Louis." 

"Just Louis?" 

"Just Louis." 

"Like those Brazilian footballers, hey?" 

"I have lost one of my agents in your town. Because of his situation we assume he was murdered by whoever he was investigating. I need to find him and I need your assistance doing that, as previously stated." 

"What exactly does the UN investigate? As far as I can tell you guys watch people get massacred with your guns pointed at the ground." 

"We have agents all over the world." 

"Why weren't we notified?" 

"Local police like yours are typically corrupt and it would jeopardize our investigations." 

"I don't think I want to help you." 

"Call Mamin then, I'm sure there are plenty of lower paying jobs available." 

"Please wait outside," I said. 

He smoothed his tie and zipped his bag. I called Mamin and got his voicemail and left a message for him to call me. The whole situation smelled but bureaucracy always had a fermented waft. I thought about telling Louis to find a place for his thumbs while I waited for the call back but I figured the quickest way to get him off my sack was lifting him myself.  

I took my time clipping my holster to my belt, he made a show of waiting. "Where we going?" I asked. 

"Last known whereabouts," he said. 

He gave me an address, said it was a hotel like I didn't know. There was a direct route and a scenic route and I drove like a tour guide. I stopped for tea while he checked his watch and then took him through our holy avenue with the colorful twelve foot statues of the gods.  

The gods had saved the townspeople back when there weren't explanations for things. A young ruler to the east was looking to overshadow his father's conquests and thousand's marched toward our settlement, hoping to easily gain entry to the river and send warships to the capital. A holy man summoned those great protectors in the sky and they dismembered every last soul armed with a spear and helmet.  

The hotel was international because it was expensive and didn't serve local food. Employees all wore white in one form or another with blue collars. They made more money than ninety percent of the town, myself included, and that stopped wallets from climbing off nightstands. 

I flashed my badge and set my face to serious. The woman at the front desk was bubbly enough for New Year's Eve. Reminded me of my daughter and I couldn't help returning her smile. 

"We're looking for someone," I said, waiting for Louis to produce a photo. He didn't budge. 

"Sure! Happy to help. What kind of someone? Tall, short, long hair, no hair, man, woman?" 

I looked at Louis. "You got a picture or something?" 

"Negative." 

"A description?" 

He shook his head. 

The woman kept her eyes wide in anticipation. I was thinking of going to the bar in the other room and seeing about a beer.  

He just held his diary bag and rolled on his heels. 

"Alright then," I said, "let's start over. What exactly do you want me to do?" 

"We need to search all the rooms." 

"I don't think so," I said. 

The receptionist saw the problem with it too. "Sir, we would love to help in any way we can, but we have guests staying in the rooms and we don't want to interrupt their stay." 

"How many rooms are there?" 

"We have eighty rooms." 

The man set his bag on a table intended for flower bouquets and calmly pulled the lever on the fire alarm. Both the receptionist and I were temporarily stupid and didn't utter a word, just stood there like his actions were far away and previously scripted. He wasn't who you'd want sitting next to you in a bar but I sure envied his efficiency. Guests came streaming in various states of undress. A few were in towels. They asked if the alarm was real and Miss Champagne said they have to treat all alarms as real. She wasn't so bubbly after that. 

We started in room one while she ran interference with the guests. I thought we were going to do a full sweep but Louis just went to the closet and pulled a screwdriver from his bag. He unscrewed the rod in there and slanted it toward the floor so the hangars came tumbling off. He stuck an eye in the end and then huffed like it was a blowgun. Nothing came out. We moved on to the next room. 

It was twenty three. A bent envelope shot out and he picked it up and stuffed it in his bag. 

"Aren't you going to read that?" I asked. 

"Not at the moment. Our investigations need a certain measure of isolation." 

"So, we're done here?" 

"I'll contact you if you're needed." 

"I'll pray every night that I'm not," I said. 

I was feeling like overcooked rice so I skipped going to Chida's and instead drove to my friend's orphanage. Dinner had just finished and the children were changing into their hospital gown pajamas. 

Georges greeted me like he always did: paw around my back and one stuck in my gut. I shook his hand and slapped a palm on his bony shoulder. His hair and beard, which was equilaterally perfect from his chin, was like dried bird shit: mostly black and white on the edges.  

He was a volunteer from Nova Scotia and he spoke three languages when he was sober. When he was drunk he spoke none.  

"Arun, my friend, what brings you by?" He said and kept his spine straight. 

"Beer?" 

"Absolutely, I've been dreaming about one for some time." 

He told his assistant his instructions for putting the children to sleep. She'd been working there for a decade but Georges didn't like how other people did things.  

I left my jeep on the drive and we walked to the restaurant down the street. Georges changed to a linen shirt and he was finding a couple buttons to keep it closed. 

"How are the kids?" I asked him. 

"Not bad. They're getting over the flu from a couple weeks ago. I was really worried about a couple of them, especially the little ones that just arrived from the capital. They are severely malnourished and their bodies are incapable of fighting even the smallest of infections. By god's grace they are finally rebounding." 

"How are your supplies?" 

"It comes and goes, as you know. The western world is dealing with an economic crisis and when that occurs it has an effect on the number of donations." 

"Do you need help?" 

"You are busy and inviting me for a beer is help enough. Chida has donated a bushel of vegetables and four sacks of rice. She really is a lovely woman - I'm sure you would agree. We are good for now and that is as far as my worry can stretch."  

We ordered the coldest beers they had and told them to clear freezer space and put a bottle of whiskey in it. The first taste gave me shivers, the second relaxed my nerves, the third ripped a smile into my cheeks. Georges rested his bum knee on a second chair and settled in. Four later and we were laughing like we still didn't know about the world. After a broken whiskey seal and a well-treaded path to the washroom, we were telling each other things we wouldn't tell a psychiatrist.  

Georges knew me better than any woman I've known and that's sad when I'm lonely and comforting when I'm not. He was a kind man and uncompromising. Kind of like those teachers in school you liked but didn't dare take a jab at. He arrived in town on a vacation with his wife nearly fifteen years ago. Where she saw destitution he saw a chance to help. She owned too many purses to stay and he woke to an empty bed and a letter three months later. I hadn't seen him with a woman since and I wasn't sure if that was old age or old feelings.  

"Chida has been asking me to leave Thera," I told him. 

"And you've been thinking about it?" 

"Yes, but not really." 

"Dick versus brain. You will never leave your wife, you honor commitments even if you don't comply with them." 

"Is that an insult?" 

"We are too old to be insulted," he said. 

"Did I ever tell you about that professor I slept with?" 

"No, I didn't even realize you had an education." 

"Another insult?" 

Georges smiled and brought his drink up. 

Midde came in, sundress to her thighs and legs with a deep fryer sheen. It was the first time I considered her pretty. Felt bad I didn't do it sooner, didn't know she was in the market for it. She bowed for some reason before sitting and stomached my glass of whiskey.  

"How'd you know I was here?" 

"You go to like, four places," she said. 

"You look nice," Georges said.  

"Thank you, Georges." 

They got along well for some reason. Georges was like an antacid for her tongue. 

"What'd you find at the girl's apartment?" 

"You're gonna like this," she said, signalling the waiter for a beer by drinking an imaginary one. "She considers herself a witch or some shit. Had all these shriveled heads on her walls and weird paintings. And there was meat - red meat, all over the fucking place. Sitting on dressers, in the washroom, underneath her bed. It was rank. Was pretty sure it was cow but I sent it to those knobs in Kengonxiang just in case. Her neighbors said she was very talkative when she first moved in but became a recluse as the years went by. They thought it might've been from a messy breakup with her boyfriend but I talked to him and he admitted to being a fuckhead but he said she got into some weird shit and he stopped coming around." 

"Parents?" 

"No, both dead. I have a list of acquaintances I'll follow up with tomorrow." 

"Good work." 

"I know." 

She slapped the bottom of her cigarette pack and slid one into her mouth. The filter reddened from her pomegranate lipstick. I looked at her chest long enough, and dubiously enough, for her to wink as she guzzled a beer.

3: Three

3.

I woke like someone discharged a shotgun next to my ear. For a good long while I stared out the window and tried to remember my entire life because I forgot everything after the tenth beer. Dirt caked my jeans and the sheets. 

I heard Yon's mouth trying to keep up with her brain. Smelled Thera's cooking. My little beansprout jumped from the table and gave me a hug when she heard our bedroom door open and for an instant my body didn't think it was dying. 

Thera dumped a mass of noodles with pork and chili oil and broccoli under my nose. She asked how I was. Said I would tell her in a couple hours when the booze found its way out. Yon thought that was pretty funny but Thera didn't seem interested in the answer. I resolved to have a talk with her soon - her mouth produced more grunts than words lately. 

I let the food sit, had to get my head around it. 

"I want to see the world," Yon said. 

"That's a good thing," I said, too hungover to notice the abruptness. 

"The rest of the world is too far away from me, from us," Thera said. 

"Everything I want to do is really far away. I want to make a lot of money but I don't want to be famous. That way I can bring you two with me and we can explore the world together and see all the amazing sites and meet all the amazing people and no one will think we're any different than them. And that's really important. I don't want anyone to ever think I'm different than them." 

"You won't get rich if you don't get good grades," I said. 

"It's better if you stay around here. You will have plenty of time to travel when you retire and I am gone," Thera said. 

"It's my life," Yon said, becoming defensive. 

"That's true," I said. 

I encouraged her to be independent and smart regardless of what anyone said. That's what I learned from my previous attempt. My wife was the opposite. 

"Do not fire her soul, Arun, she is already in the sky. She must fulfill her duties to her ancestral homeland. My god, in her next body she will be uncontainable, I pray for future generations." 

Thera stirred the remaining food and transferred it to bowl for the icebox. Yon and I looked at each other and understood it was a time to keep our mouths shut.  

I ate three bites and told Thera it was delicious but I wasn't supposed to be awake. I kissed Yon on top of her head, Thera on the cheek, and the mattress underneath a pillow. Couple hours later they were both gone and I attempted breakfast again, but cold. It went down like a drowned man's skin. 

The diary writer from the U.N said he would call but I figured I would make a visit to Jaw's compound and crunch a few toes. At the very least it would be a reminder of our presence. Jaw envisioned himself a Gambino but didn't employ anyone smart enough to tell him he was stupid. It would've surprised me if he had anything to do with the murder but he did hear a lot of gossip from sources unlikely to tell a cop. 

He did his business in a bar just off the main highway, which he owned, called 'The Gulf.' It was a wallet in your front pocket type of place where thirsty truck drivers with enlarged pupils could feel less lonely for the right price. Jaw built a hotel behind the bar for the really uncomfortable stuff and a place to sleep.  

He was playing cards at a table with his shirt off, nipples trying to finger-paint his belly. Surrounding him were men with poorly concealed weapons tucked in their belts. Idiots. Jaw had a shiny eight shot with a poacher's handle next to his chips. 

"What'chu want, peg?" He asked, wanting to say 'pig' as he chomped on an estate pipe. I'm sure he thought it made him look sophisticated but it just made him look like he found a pipe in someone's trash. 

As they always did, his bodyguards blocked my view and kept stepping, wanting to assert dominance.  

"These guys crowding me wouldn't be so bad if they didn't just eat a shit salad." 

"They ken stan where they want, it es my bar and I sey, peg." 

"I got a couple questions for you." 

"I do not answer peg's questions." 

A woman that hopefully looked better at night emerged from an unmarked door near the stage. The bar had two sections, one outdoor and one indoor, but from where we were standing I could see right through. Brass poles, coal miner dark, full spread shots on the wall with felt pen signatures - just in case Jaw wanted to auction them at a later date, I guess. The woman whispered to man eating raw peppers and he gave her something he kept hidden with his hand.  

"We got new foam for the holding cells - if you prefer." 

"I done nothing." 

"Please - if I wanted to I could step inside that bar and something illegal would stick to my shoe. And look at these guys, they'll have drugs on them - or in them. Do they hide them up their asses? I bet they do, whether you ask them to or not. Especially this guy," I said, pointing to the biggest scowl. The hangover was climbing my throat and I was pushing my luck.  

The guy got close enough for me to smell his hair. It was kind of cute. 

"What's this? Does he want me to get it out?" I said. 

These supposed tough guys had spent years telling themselves they were made of leather and even longer trying to prove it. Calling them gay, or even alluding to it, was a short route to confrontation. 

He gave me a solid hook that made my teeth chatter. I knew it was coming and there was nothing I could do about it, so I clenched real tight and brought my knee into his windbag.  

I took my time while he wheezed. A few of Jaw's guys reached for me but Jaw waved them away.  

I gained power from my shoulder and downward motion. Hit the guy between the temple and left socket. Bone on bone. He would wake up in three minutes, bleed for thirty, and take the next available doctor's appointment.  

I cuffed him and flipped him around so his buddies could get a look at the tough guy. He went from leather to custard with one swing of the knuckles. 

"This is where I ask for the next contender," I said. 

"You lucky I don't shoot ret now, peg," Jaw said. 

"We can do that, too" I said and grabbed my gun. 

I left it hanging at my side. 

"You let the men go, we tawk." 

I uncuffed the guy but it didn't matter, his hands limped to his sides. Jaw took me around the corner and told me everything he knew. Yes, he had heard about missing person, yes, he heard from a hotel employee, no, he didn't know anything else. About what I expected.  

"You come like thes, soon I well not hold men back," he said. 

He had a face like a helium balloon the day after a party. It wasn't the face of a man in his business, more like a sad, bullied child, and sometimes I felt sorry for him until I remembered the charcoal veins keeping him upright.  

"Is that a threat?" I asked. 

"Yes." 

"I'll look forward to it. In the meantime you call me if you hear anything, ok?" 

"Why do you watch from trees?" 

"Watch what, you?" 

"You hev men en trees. All day. I know they follow me, peg." 

I didn't have enough men to keep the coffee warm, let alone post them up in trees around Jaw's compound. Didn't think it was such a bad thing, him believing that, so I kept my teeth touching. 

"They go through room when I leaf. They set in trunk when I take car. Some take remote con-trol for T.V and steal clothes." 

"That doesn't sound like procedure," I said. 

He put an eye on me, like he knew I ordered someone to steal his fucking socks. I left him wondering. 

Back at the station I stuck my head in the freezer. Stood there like I was in a stock. Once cool I put some ice in a bag and wrapped it with a cloth. I went out to the hammock overlooking the river and slept until lunch with the ice on my cheek. Kids upriver fished from the dusty banks and squealed when their lines tightened. Bees looked for pollen. Shade from the tree blocked the midday burn and a seed carrying breeze soothed my throbbing skull.  

Midde woke me up by tipping the hammock and driving me into the ground. She laughed like hadn't slept. Her breath made it easy to confirm. Toothpaste on top of whiskey on top of beer.  

"You need to go home," I said. 

"Let's settle for another beer and mints." 

"No, I can't have you representing our department like this." 

"Well, we have another body ripped to shreds and a report that some band of misfits is making camp near the lock. Do you want to handle them yourself, or?" 

"Where are Jinn and Kress?" 

"Those two idiots couldn't figure out how a dick and vagina work." 

"Better than a drunk," I said. "Go home, you're not of any use in your condition." 

She lit a cigarette and stumbled to her car, reversing like she hit the wrong pedal. Jinn and Kress were pretending to be cops inside. "You two," I said, voice full of a stomach short on antacid. "You're on this new body until I get there. Rope it off. Call those knobs to come and tell us what we already know." 

"Yes, sir." 

I made a pot of eye opener and poured it in a mug. Drank it on the way to the lock. We were testing our luck with the weather and I thought we were due for a branch snapper real soon; bring the water level up, have the boats on the river battling debris and the property owners filling sandbags. It made the driving easy, for the time being at least. The lock was twenty minutes upstream and the only road had less maintenance than the lock itself.  

Sure enough there was a camp being setup. Tarps tied to the canopy-reaching keruings, wooden tables with pots and cups, latrine trenches, a couple Japanese technicals fitted with long barrelled KPVs. No one paid much attention when my jeep stopped. Right away I knew they were militia from their colors. When men with guns color coordinated it wasn't for stag parties or street festivals. 

"Who's in charge?" I asked a man smoking a rolled cigarette. 

He nodded to a tent with three men sitting cross legged. They were drinking tea out of grubby cups. Some kind of boiled root with salt. 

"Who's in charge?" I asked again. 

A man with a sweaty orange bandanna tied around his greased hair spoke. "Who are you?" 

"I'm local police. I want to know what you guys are doing out here." 

"We are the Northern Defence Force. We are here for your protection." 

"Protection from what?" 

"Enemies." 

"What enemies?" 

"Enemies threatening the sovereignty of our northern settlements." 

"Who sent you? Who's threatening our sovereignty?" 

"That is enough," he said and gulped his tea. 

"Listen," I said, putting a foot in his direction. "I'll tell you when it's enough." 

He didn't flinch. I'd seen flies get more attention. 

A couple of guys dragged me away by my arms. Made me want to tuck my dick behind my thighs. 

"You will see. We will be friends eventually," the man shouted. 

I just swore at him, told him he looked like things he didn't look like. None of it worked or helped. Got thrown shoulder first into my hubcap. I thought about charging back in there, make them clean their rooms, wave my forty five around, but my gun had seven rounds, theirs had thirty, a couple had drums with a hundred, and I didn't think any of the sixty men would care about finding me a shallow place to rest. 

It struck me on the road out that I was lucky my head was still controlling my body. 

I called provincial from my office and told them about the men. They said they hadn't received any threats or intelligence from the capital and to hold tight. Well, I held tight. Called my wife and told her to take Yon from school and find a nook at the orphanage. It was safer than our house and Georges had rifles in the floorboards; we used them to shoot gulls the last time we drank Taijo. Militiamen knew ransacking a house would come after the classifieds but if they attacked an orphanage it would be news in countries they didn't know existed. Next I called Georges. He said he would have the guns ready the place locked up nice and tight.  

I went to Hoi's desk and told her to call every officer to the station. Then I waited. Three hours later my supervisor called from Kengonxiang and said the capital didn't know anything, but that they were sending reinforcements.  

"Why are they there, you think?" He asked me. He was a good man but unassured. 

"Has to be the lock. They're camped within pissing distance and it connects the trading route to the capital." 

"For what reason?" 

"I don't know, charge a tax, maybe? It happened during the last war." 

"None of this makes sense." 

"I know. Which means you should send more men than you were planning." 

I stuck my ticket writers in the jungle across the river and gave them our only set of radios. Told them to get real comfortable and report any activity. Told them they wouldn't be home for a while and gave them money for sleeping bags and mosquito nets. 

We waited. Played hands of five card draw while Jinn and Kress filled me in on the body. Said it was ripped to shreds like the first one but there was even less flesh on the bones, like it had been picked clean for a stock. The specialists were held back while we sorted the Militia.  

Midde had a mid-morning haze and it was close to midnight. She was in a dress and sat with her legs open while the cards were dealt. When the hand was over and the dealer shuffled, she would remember she was wearing a dress and cross her legs. As soon as the betting increased her feet came down. She stared at Jinn and Kress intently, determined to take their pocket change. Kress stared back, but for different reasons, he looked as surprised as I imagined I looked the night before. 

He complimented her and she told him his face looked like an asshole. He said they should get together for drinks more often and Midde said the only reason she drank was to forget about him. 

Hoi ran to a gas station and got buns with cucumber, sprouts, and chicken. She was still upset about the river cruise and decided if she did her job really well, maybe I would let her go. I thought that was amusing.  

We slept in office chairs or on the ground, shirts and jackets bunched up for pillows. I washed in the morning and shaved with a razor from my desk. By nine o'clock the reinforcements showed and there wasn't close to enough. Maybe twenty of them. But they had Kevlar and newer looking guns. We could probably repel an attack long enough for additional support.  

Nothing happened for the next two days. Not a bullet a fired. Not even a complaint from the farmer who owned the land where the Militia camped. I wasn't one to pick up a phone and let someone else handle my problems, but I would be spitting at the receiver if someone left a trench of feces next to my crops. 

I checked in hourly with the traffic cops keeping an eye on them. On the second day I drove out and saw for myself. Nothing. 

Provincial sent a negotiator the third day, a woman with a face closer to a frame than a picture. Her parents might have been levels. She was nice enough and professional, two things our department lacked. I filled her in on the details, which were Death Valley sparse, and she wrote out a list of talking points and leading questions and had me approve it. I didn't understand a fucking thing she was talking about so it didn't take long to scribble my name.  

She preferred to go alone because it was less threatening. I told her that was stupid. Our first disagreement. I ordered six long range guys to ready themselves and setup across the river when she went the next morning. 

I left Midde in charge because I wanted to spend the night with my family. Yon would be worried and Thera would be unable to explain. Georges needed an update as well.  

First I drove to Chida's farm. She knew I was coming so she left a light on and a window open. I struggled through the bush with sleep-deprived motions, and crushed a few flowers so beautiful I felt guilty. When I climbed through she was laying on her bed like she was trying to fly away. Had a see through number on with pink lace. 

"I've been waiting," she said. 

"Me too," I said. 

"I've been waiting since the last time you left. I haven't heard from you until tonight. I don't like it Arun, you are my love and your voice brings me comfort. At the very least you can spare a few minutes to call." 

"I'm sorry sweetheart. Murderers and militias at work." 

"But you've talked to your wife?" 

"Of course." 

"And why not me?" She shouted.  

"You are right. I will not let it happen again." 

I gave her a hug and kiss combo and raked my fingers through her soft hair. Caught her on the precipice of crying and dragged her back.  

"It's just... I love you. Love should be constant, not stop and start." 

"I love you too," I said. 

She fiddled with the buttons on my shirt and kissed me. I kissed her back. She bit my lip and cheek and dropped a tongue in my ear. Wet, gushing sounds. Currents of pleasure traveled up my spine.  

I got her naked and went low until she screamed loud enough for her father to put the porch lights on. She returned the favor until I couldn't take it anymore.  

She played the piano on my chest as the ceiling fan wobbled and rotated above us. 

"My father is scared of the Militia, he's thinking about leaving and coming back when it's safe." 

"That's logical." 

"What are they doing, will they attack? We have silos of pulses and sesame that depreciate a half point every day they're not processed, which is impossible with the trucking companies scared to pick up in town. In three weeks they won't be worth anything." 

"I think if they were going to attack we would've found bodies instead of their camp." 

"So, it'll be back to normal soon?" 

"We'll see after tomorrow." 

"Can we go on vacation?" 

"What? 

"If I plan a vacation, will you go with me? Just me and you. No one else. We'll go where no one knows who we are. Phuket, maybe, I've heard it's nice and the drinks are cheap. We can make love in the daytime and I can scream as loud as I want." 

"I think you just did scream as loud as you want." 

"Answer my question!" 

"I didn't because I don't know. We have sixty killers lined up on the banks of our rivers and you're talking about daiquiris and sex and on the beach." 

"I'm not a part time job." 

"No, you're a CEO." 

The line felt cheesy as fuck but Chida was hungry for it. She slapped my bare chest like I was snotty kid and kissed me like I was a handsome soap star.  

We waited until her naked breasts got my blood flowing again. Hers were big enough to have communication problems. She was smarter than she let on and that deceived people and she used it to her advantage, cornering them into agreement for things they didn't realize they were discussing. She played real polite. Had the sexist hummers and hawwers thinking she was a bag of candy until their cheques were in the mail with her name on it.  

I came faster than the first time and our skin was like gum arabic after. The heat wasn't budging. In the lucidity I wondered how long I could maintain balance and what was going to happen when everything inevitably fell apart. I was a scumbag. Took love and gave half back. I knew it. I knew it but I couldn't do anything about it. Intentions weren't worth the time it took to think of them.  

Chida begged me to stay the night and threw a tantrum so vicious I tied my shoes outside. She was right to feel whatever she was feeling, I was feeling pretty crummy myself. A man needed to put other people first now and then; a steady mind shouldn't be wrapped up in itself.  

Georges' office light was still on and he was trying to predict the future with a tumbler of whiskey. He looked drained, melancholy even, his gradient nose pointed at the dusty floorboards. I didn't say hello, just poured a stunner and sat beside him. We made a hell of a pair. Him blue and me yellow. 

"Your girls are in my room," he said. 

"That wasn't needed." 

"What is?" 

I took a good long sip. 

"What's it looking like?" He asked. 

"I'll know more tomorrow." 

"They won't attack. They would've already." 

"That's what I'm thinking." 

"I used to believe fighting for a cause was done by men with honor. But there is no cause, only men who know how to spin one. Now I have more pity for a dead murderer than a dead soldier. At least the murderer isn't some young fool that blindly follows orders." 

"Do you really think that?" 

He chugged from his glass and let the liquor burn his mouth before swallowing. "Yes, yes I do." 

"I will always feel for the fool because that's all any of us are. A bunch of fools trying to convince ourselves we're not." 

Georges played a cassette tape in a language I didn't understand and stared into the jungle. "My grandmother used to play this all the time," he said. "It's a mother explaining the cycle of life to her children. At the very end she tells them that father isn't coming home from the war." 

He was trying to get lost and wasn't looking for directions so I went to his room and put my arms around Thera. She waited until she thought I was asleep and got up. In the morning I found her in a hammock by the outdoor tables. 

"Why'd you sleep out here?" I asked her. 

"Lately I have preferred sleeping on my own." 

"Why?" 

"The heat," she said like she didn't believe it. 

"Are we alright? I haven't given you enough time recently and I meant to talk to you." 

"We are fine, Arun, you are my husband." 

"But it's not fair. I need to give you more of my time." 

"Your energy carries itself wherever it's needed. And it is not needed on me." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It will mean what you initially thought it meant, whether I rephrase or not." 

"I love you." 

"I love you as well." 

I understood what she was saying until I got in my jeep and then it didn't make sense again. Ever since her spiritual awakening our conversations were crosswords without clues.  

I didn't mind the praying. I didn't mind not knowing who she was praying to. When I asked her she told me it was a hash of all religions because the gods were all important and all deserved to be worshipped together. In different countries, maybe even ours, she would have a cleaver swung through her neck for talking like that. It gave her a way to believe the world wasn't random and I never faulted her for wanting bigger reasons.  

But her riddles got to me, eventually. It was infuriating. Sex dried up, too, which drove me, or I drove myself I should say, into another woman.  

"Daddy!" Yon shouted across the courtyard. 

I scooped her up and felt a twinge in my lower back. The kids eating breakfast watched and I felt bad about showing such emotion for my daughter in front of them. 

We ate on a bench hanging from the mossy rock walls surrounding the courtyard. Branches drooped over the tops and vegetation protruded from the cinder blocks pounded into the dirt.  

"Can I go to school today?" 

"Not yet." 

"I have tests coming up and the rest of the kids are there." 

"What tests?" 

"Math, geography." 

"Math?" 

"Yes." 

"What do you think?" I asked Thera. 

"You would know better than I." 

"Please," she said. 

I pretended to give it serious thought, got a real crease in my forehead. "No," I said. "Tomorrow, maybe." 

I went to work. The negotiator was triple checking her body armor, square underneath her clothes. With her steel toes laced to her knees and loose ironed khakis, she looked like a precariously stacked pallet. 

Midde already gave the go ahead for the snipers to set up shop across the river. Despite the hatred she had for her liver and sobriety, she was my only hope of a successor. She understood managing risk and chewing on a hunch. She also understood doing things yourself because you can't trust other people to be smart.  

Jinn took her to the camp. I was going to fill out forms some asshole downriver deemed procedure but Louis interrupted. Surprised me, I thought he would've been in business class with a bitter cup of Shiraz and peanuts when he heard about the militia. 

"I need you to locate a missing person," he said. 

"A lot of people need a lot of things. Who's missing?" 

"A man - an associate of my agent." 

"A man. That really narrows it down." 

"His name is Buji, he resides by the river." 

"This town was built on the river. If it wasn't for the river, no one would be here. It would be dense fucking jungle with bugs the size of grapefruits. Everyone lives by the river." 

He calmed himself with a heave of air. "I will show you where he lives. I need to ascertain his whereabouts, he was an informant for my agent and it's reasonable to assume he knows about the investigation." 

"How long's he been missing?" 

"Since yesterday morning." 

I gave him the classic busy cop explanation: "He's probably drunk somewhere, chasing women. He'll be back in a couple days." 

"Should I contact Lieutenant Mamin and have him relay your orders?" 

"You can call whoever the fuck you want. Mamin still hasn't returned my call from the other day. I'm too busy for your shit at the moment. Like said, come back in a couple days and we'll see about finding your man." 

"Isn't your duty protecting citizens within your district?" 

"Yes, I do. But unfortunately I have a small force and I gotta decide where our manpower is most needed. Your lush is one man. The militia camped out within a Sunday stroll of our town threatens the welfare of everybody. So right now I'm gonna tell you to get the fuck out of my office." 

"This is the problem with a country like yours. No professionalism. Everyone is on the take." 

"Now you're gonna force me to stand up," I said. 

I moved around my desk and gave him a whiff of breakfast. He backed away, keeping eye contact.  

I thought about slugging him just so he wouldn't bother me again. Clear up my schedule, shed some workload. 

An hour later the negotiator returned. She was sweating in the gear and stripped it off, stopping to tell me they weren't a threat. "They showed no hostility or aberrant behavior. I spoke with the leader and he said they were sent by a commander he refused to identify. They heard about a threat and came to protect the town." 

"You actually believe that?" 

"Yes." 

"Sounds like bullshit. Militias aren't formed for humanitarian reasons." 

"They are upriver. They are protecting their leader's business interests by protecting the lock, and subsequently, the town." 

I couldn't buy it. "Still stinks," I said. 

"I understand your concerns but it seems like the threat has passed. They are actually in the process of leaving. The leader gave me his word they would be out by tomorrow night." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, there's only about twenty of them still remaining." 

Her anxiousness to believe their company line struck me as curious. It was good form to never believe a criminal unless they were facing life and looking to shorten their sentence. She must have been another American trained recruit. Fresh out of school; hopeful imagination; a humanist, maybe. But I came up through the wars when men were shot dead for eye contact and babies were thrown in the water. When women couldn't be seen in public without being assaulted. If I trusted anything I trusted man's capacity for brutality. There will always be bad men doing bad things and there will always be people that are unwilling to fight. No fault of theirs, but they just didn't have the guts. It took a lot to kill a man and it stuck with you, I'd been carrying around a baker's dozen for two decades.  

That's why I took the job. I was one of those men. I could do what needed to be done and I could handle the anguish. Tore me up at times but I always got through because I was keeping the balance and I thought that made me morally compliant.