Read Fieldwork: A Novel Online

Authors: Mischa Berlinski

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Thrillers, #Suspense

Fieldwork: A Novel (38 page)

BOOK: Fieldwork: A Novel
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"That is the
dyal
, and how could Hupasha want to leave it all behind him? How could he? I'll never understand that, not until the day I die. What is better than Rice?

"I had so much still to learn about Rice. I had just begun to understand Rice, when Hupasha left.

"I must have spent weeks, then months like that. At night I dreamed of being with Hupasha. Of Rice. I'd wake up sweating. Then I'd fall back asleep and have the same dreams all over again."

"One day David Walker came by my hut. It was toward sundown when he knocked on the door. I saw him through my window. He knocked again, and when I didn't answer, he pushed the door open. He stood in the threshold.

"He was large, much larger than I was—and as he stood in the doorway of the hut, with the sun setting right behind him, the hairs on his arms were very fine and golden. I remember looking at those hairs, and thinking no wonder the Dyalo were so impressed by him, he looks like a tiger to them. Once I went out hunting with Fat Belly, years and years ago. We went deep in the jungle and I saw a tiger. It couldn't have been much farther away than that wall. They say that there are no more tigers in northern Thailand, but I saw one. And when you see a tiger in the jungle—you don't see anything else. That's what I thought about when I saw David.

"David didn't say anything for a moment. Then he said that Hupasha had asked him to come. I asked him why, and David said that he needed to talk to me. I said, ‘Talk,' but he asked if he could come in.

"He was so big, and there wasn't quite enough space in the hut for both of us. We were both sweating because it was such a hot night. His teeth were very white, and I could see the pores in his skin. I could feel the heat coming off him. I was a little frightened of him, to tell you the truth. I asked him the last time he saw Hupasha, and he said that he had seen him just the night before. He had been up there talking about the Bible with him. And I said, ‘David, will you tell me something?'

"David nodded yes, and I asked him if Hupasha was really a Christian. Or whether it was just something that Hupasha invented to get rid of me. That's what I really wanted to know.

"David thought for a long time. He said, ‘It was hard, what he had to do. Choosing for the Lord was the hardest thing he ever had to do. I think he wants to be a Christian—and I think that's enough. God put the desire there.' I thought about that a minute, and I said, ‘Does he want me back?' and David said, ‘Martiya, all I know is that he never, ever wants to go back to Rice.'

"‘But he loved Rice!' That's what I said. I said, ‘David, you have no idea how happy we were together. It was the most beautiful thing in the world, when we were together and made rice. I think we would have been together forever, if you hadn't come along.'

"David leaned forward. I could smell him. He smelled like earth and clay. He said, ‘Martiya, I need to tell you something. I talked to him yesterday. He wants to go back to Burma and tell them about the Lord.'

"I felt like a candle was melting inside me. But I still didn't cry. ‘Was this your idea?' I said. David looked at the ground, and he said, ‘He asked me what I thought about it, and I said that everyone needs to know the Lord.'

"‘But how is he going to eat? Where will he get rice?' I said, and David told me that the Christians had made a rice fund for the evangelists.

"That's when I knew I had really lost him. If Hupasha had decided to go, I knew he would go. I was all alone with Rice. David said, ‘I admire you, Martiya. You've been living here alone for such a long time. I know how hard it is to live without the Lord.'

"But I don't think David realized how angry I was. I said, ‘Why did you do this to me? What did I do to you?'

"David stood up. He looked at me for a long, long time. Then he said, ‘Martiya, will you sing with me?' And he seemed almost as surprised saying these words as I was hearing them, like the words had come out of his mouth by accident. It was the hot season, and we were both so sweaty, his face was red and slick, and my clothes were so heavy. He stretched his arms out wide and leaned over me. Then he began to sing:

‘There were ninety-and-nine that safely lay
In the Shelter of the fold.
But one was out on the hills far away,
Far off from the gates of gold.
Away on the mountains wild and bare,
Away from the tender Shepherd's care,
Away from the tender Shepherd's care.'

 
 

"He took my hands. He held them tight and pressed them up against his shirt. I could feel his heart beating. He was out of breath, and I could see veins throbbing in his neck. ‘Did you hear them?' he said. And I said yes, I had heard them, too. Then he walked out the door, leaving it wide open behind him.

"I couldn't believe I would never see Hupasha again. I thought he would come by the next day or the day after that."

"I watched the village prepare that year for the
dyal
. It was obvious to me that the Christians regretted their decision, and were very jealous now of the animist half. They made Fat Belly the pastor of the church—Fat Belly! In charge of
anyone's
spiritual life! I think that really says it all. The animist half, though, were very serene. They had lived in these hills forever. Their faces said: This is our life, this is the way Dyalo live; we don't need Ye-su-tsi. We know how to please Rice.

"It had to be the same in Wild Pig village. So when I saw the preparations, I was sure that Hupasha was going to come. And so I started to prepare for the
dyal
myself. I wanted to look beautiful.

"When I learned about the
dyal
, the people always used the phrase ‘The
dyal
is the Lesson of Ten Thousand Harvests.' Can you imagine? They were making
dyal
long before Jesus was born—maybe not the Dyalo exactly, maybe not the
dyal
exactly, but somebody was making some ritual like this, to please Rice. Rice is old, older than you can imagine.

"But Hupasha didn't come.

"I got in my jeep and I drove down to Chiang Mai. It's a long drive, but I remember a feeling that if I didn't get out of the hills, get out
now
… I decided to go for a drink. I went to one of those bars on the river, with the music. I was so grateful to be with strangers, with people who had never heard of the
dyal
, of the Dyalo even. I ordered a drink, and then another. One of the tourists asked if I wanted to get stoned, and I did. We stood outside on that balcony smoking, looking out over the river, with the reflection of the moon. I started to think, just for a moment, that I was going to be all right, that things were going to work out.

"And then I was sick. I ran to the bathroom as fast as I could, a dirty little bathroom in a dirty little bar, and I threw everything up—and is it strange if I say it felt wonderful? I threw up until I felt empty inside. I stood up from the toilet, I must have been in there ten minutes, twenty minutes, and I looked in the mirror, and this old woman stared back at me. I wondered who she was, and of course she was me. I was an old woman. I knew at that moment that I was no longer a beautiful woman, not even a pretty woman anymore.

"That's when I noticed the bathroom attendant. She was standing behind me. If I was an old woman, she was ancient. She must have heard me vomiting. She must have thought I was disgusting. But she looked so peaceful and serene and contented—and that's amazing, if you think about it. This woman
lives
in a toilet, that's her life, from morning until night she lives in the toilet and gives out hot towels and rubs the necks of rich women and listens to them pee and shit and vomit, and I've never seen in all my life such a simple, contented, happy face. She had a cross around her neck. And that cross—I stared and stared.

"At that moment, I knew that I could have everything I wanted. And I can't tell you how much I wanted to take a bath. I hadn't taken a real bath in years, only showers in the village. I wanted to wash myself in clean water—to begin again, just to start over. I wanted to find David right away. I wanted to tell him that he was right. It wasn't a rational decision, I hadn't thought it all through, I just
wanted
it.

"I went to the Walkers' house. It was only a twenty-minute walk or so, and it felt glorious. But the closer I got to that house, I started to hear this very small voice in my head. This voice said, ‘Is
this
how you treat Rice?'

"Then I saw that house, with that huge fence around it, at the end of the block, and it was black. I went through the gate and up to the door, and I rang the bell and nobody came for a very long time.

"Then the door opened. It was Norma Walker, and I didn't know what to say. I had only thought about David, about meeting David, and explaining to him what happened in the bathroom. I asked if David was there.

"Norma looked confused. She must have been asleep. She's a big woman, like her son, and I felt so small.

"Norma stared me up and down, then finally she asked if I knew what time it was.

"And I didn't, I really didn't, so I said no. She sighed and said it was four-thirty in the morning. I told her that I was looking for David, and she shook her head and she said that David was in the field. I felt like an idiot, because of course David wouldn't be here the first night of
dyal
. Then I thought of Thomas. But she shook her again and said, ‘No, my husband is with my son tonight.' I didn't know what to say, so I asked if she remembered me, and she said that she knew just who I was, and she stared at me with those dark eyes, like I was a wild animal. She had never liked me, I knew that. Then she asked what she could do for me, and suddenly I was so thirsty that I thought I would die. I couldn't think of anything but a cold glass of water. So I asked if I could have a glass of water.

"She didn't say one word. She just backed away from the door and disappeared into that black, empty house. Then she came back and gave me the glass and said that I should come in for a minute. I didn't want to go in, but I did anyway. And we sat down in that living room, with those poor goldfish going back and forth. I drank my water, and I started to wonder what I was doing there.

"Then she asked me again what she could do for me. And I wanted just to tell the truth. So I told her that I came to be baptized, and I started to cry. She didn't say anything at all. She just sat, and I looked at her face. I saw David's face in hers, just heavier. The same dark eyes, the same long nose, those same thin lips; those two were cut from the same cloth. She said, ‘Now?' and I said, ‘Yes,' and she said, ‘You want
me
to baptize you?
Me?
'

"And I didn't say anything. I was still crying. I wanted to tell her about Rice.

"Norma looked at my face. She looked at me slowly. I hadn't seen her in a long time, not since before I went back home to California. Then she asked if I had anything I wanted to tell her, if I wanted to get square with the Lord.

"And I told her that I had made
dyal
, and that I was frightened of Rice. And she nodded, and she said that baptism meant I was square with the Lord, but she didn't think I was square with the Lord at all. And I stopped crying, and I said that I needed to be baptized, that's why I had come. I wanted to tell her that whatever she was thinking, it didn't matter now, but she cut me off. She said that she loved her husband, that from the first moment she saw him she'd loved him, he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Norma told me that she'd never loved another man, and she never would. And I said, ‘He's a wonderful man, Norma,' but Norma wasn't listening to me. She said she'd made her peace with the kind of man he was, an imperfect man, and she didn't want me back in their life, that those days were over. She asked me to leave her alone, please leave her and her family alone. And I said,
‘Norma
,
'
but she was already out of the room.

"I walked out of that house perfectly sober. I walked away from that house thinking that I had to do something. I walked away from that house thinking how close I had come to angering Rice."

"You see, I told you I didn't have a choice. Even now, I know it was the only thing I could have done. I knew that without David they would worship Rice again.

"He was headed up to Wild Pig village, and I went up the path ahead of him, and I got to that first bridge. I was able to untie one of the ropes and although the thing looked solid enough, I knew that when a big man walked on it, the bridge wouldn't hold. Then I waited. As it happens, that bridge overlooks a very beautiful rice field, and it must have been toward the end of rainy season. So the rice was high, and I was very calm and peaceful. It was a windy day, and the rice was blowing back and forth, like waves of silver and green. There is nothing so beautiful as a rice field. Then David came, and it was silent. He didn't shout, and I looked, and he had fallen, fallen, fallen, down below. I went home.

"I went to bed that evening and I slept, and I woke up the next morning, and I felt like sleeping again, and I slept most of the next day as well. It was the next night when I had a very strange dream. I dreamed about David. He came to me, and he sang again at my door
.

"I woke up the next morning and I didn't know what to do. Because I did not want to be cruel, not at all. He was a nice boy, just dangerous, very dangerous. So I took my hunting rifle, which I'd used exactly once since the blacksmith made it for me, and I went out to the bridge and I looked down, and I took very careful aim. I shot him twice, just to make sure.

BOOK: Fieldwork: A Novel
11.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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