Tua and Kanchanok emerged from the river and bowed a wai.
“This is Tua and that’s Pohn-Pohn, Little Mother,” Kanchanok said.
“
Sawatdee kha.
” Mae Noi bowed back. “Welcome. Are you hungry? Come,” she said,
taking Tua’s hand, “you must tell me all about yourself and Pohn-Pohn.”
The words began tumbling out of Tua’s mouth as if from the pages of a book.
Pohn-Pohn fell in step behind them, followed by Kanchanok and Peppy. The little dog wound around Kanchanok’s feet, jumped on his legs, and begged him to tell her all about these strangers. How had he met them? Where did they come from? Were they going to stay at the sanctuary?
Pohn-Pohn tossed her trunk up and down and from side to side. She could smell the musky scent of elephants. It was in the air and on the ground—it was all around her. She reached out and stroked Tua’s back as if to say, “Can you smell that?”
Tua reached her hand behind her back and squeezed Pohn-Pohn’s trunk.
They passed an old matriarch in a mud wallow with big, watery eyes. Her back was covered in a thick cake of dried mud; a wide stripe of wrinkled gray skin ran from her shoulder to her tail; then
a dripping layer of bright orange mud coated her belly and legs like fresh paint. She lazily blinked her eyes at Pohn-Pohn, scooped up a trunkful of mud and grass, and tossed it on her head like a bonnet. Pohn-Pohn blinked her eyes and quickly looked away.
A young elephant with the tips of a new pair of tusks poking out of the corners of his mouth galloped past them just then, flapping his ears and flailing his trunk. Peppy yapped at the elephant for cutting them off. The elephant trumpeted a rude reply over his shoulder, ran up to the platform ahead, then looked back around at Pohn-Pohn and flapped an apology with his ears.
There were elephants coming to the platform from all directions, some with mahouts and some without. But these mahouts were different from any Pohn-Pohn had ever seen before. They walked alongside the elephants instead of driving them. None of them carried sticks, or chains, or the sharp, hooked
ankus
.
On top of the platform, people as busy as ants were sorting boxes of fruit and vegetables, hauling them to the edge, and hand-feeding the elephants pineapples, mangos, bananas, cucumbers, yams, corn, and pieces of pumpkin and watermelon as if they were pampered guests at a resort. The elephants kept coming. And so did the boxes.
Pohn-Pohn stood back, watching, listening, and smelling. It was a most unusual place.
“Who are all these people?” asked Tua, as she climbed the platform behind Mae Noi.
“They’re volunteers from all over the world who have come to work for the elephants. Some are here for the day, and some stay for weeks at a time. We couldn’t get along without them.”
Tua had never seen
farangs
like these before. Tanned, dirty, and sweaty, they were all working—even the boys and girls!
“Volunteers come up from Chiang Mai every day in trucks and vans,” Mae Noi said. “They stop at the markets along the way to collect food for the
elephants. It takes a lot of fruit and vegetables to feed this many elephants. We have our own gardens, orchards, and fields, too, so there’s always plenty of work to be done. After the elephants have eaten, we take them to the river for a bath.”
A pile of fur coats lifted their heads and jumped apart as they approached. Mae Noi crouched down and ruffled the heads and rubbed the bellies of four scruffy dogs.
“We’re not just a sanctuary for elephants, are we, Shadow?” Mae Noi said to the shiny black dog whose ears she was scratching. “We’ve got dogs and cats and water buffaloes, too. All animals are welcome.”
The black dog licked Mae Noi’s face and yawned.
They climbed some stairs and entered an open-aired room with low tables and pillows scattered across the floor. Napping calico cats lay slung over the railings and roof beams like washing hung out to dry.
“This is where the volunteers eat,” Mae Noi
said. “It’s the people’s feeding platform. Would you like something to eat?”
“Pohn-Pohn!” Tua exclaimed, at the same time that Pohn-Pohn called out to her. She spun around and leapt down the stairs two steps at a time.
Kanchanok crossed the platform with a branch of bananas balanced on his shoulder. “These are for Pohn-Pohn,” he said.
“Thank you, Kanchanok.”
Pohn-Pohn was waiting at the bottom of the steps, and Tua fell into the embrace of her outstretched trunk.
“I didn’t leave you, Pohn-Pohn. I’ll never leave you.”
A
farang
girl and a Thai boy followed Kanchanok off the platform with a box of mangos between them. The girl had long, fine hair the color of corn silk.
“
Sawatdee kha,
” she said, bowing a wai and handing Pohn-Pohn a mango. “What’s her name?” the girl asked Tua in Thai.
“You speak Thai?” Tua couldn’t believe her ears.
“So do you,” laughed the girl.
“But I
am
Thai,” Tua said.
“I’m Swedish,” said the girl. “My name is Nikky, and that’s Kit,” she pointed to the boy standing behind a box of mangos with his arm draped around Kanchanok’s shoulder. “He’s Thai, like you.”
“
Khrap
,” Kit grinned.
“
Sawatdee kha.
” Tua bowed a wai.
“What’s the elephant’s name?” Nikky asked a second time. “She’s so sweet.”
Tua shook off her disbelief. “Pohn-Pohn. And I’m Tua.”
“My mother is an elephant doctor,” Nikky said, handing Pohn-Pohn another mango. “And Kit’s father is a mahout.”
“My mother is the best waitress in Chiang Mai,” Tua said. “And my auntie is an actress.”
“I’m a Thai dancer,” Nikky said, and she immediately lifted her arms, curled back her fingers, tilted her head, and bent her knees.
She was so convincing that Tua could almost imagine her dressed in the costume and makeup. But before she had an opportunity to compliment Nikky, Mae Noi called down from the platform.
“Your lunch is ready in the dining area. Nikky, Kit, Kanchanok, away you go. Tua, this is for you.”
“
Khawp khun kha,
” Tua bowed.
And while Mae Noi took over the job of feeding Pohn-Pohn, Tua sat down in the grass and began eating the lovely
massaman
curry.
“How is it?” Mae Noi asked.
“
Aroy mak mak,
” Tua said between spoonfuls. Then she swallowed and said, “She speaks Thai.”
“Nikky, you mean?”
Tua nodded.
“She’s been here a long time,” Mae Noi said. “Almost four years now. She goes to the village school with Kit.”
“Why doesn’t Kanchanok go to the village school?”
“I’m working on that,” Mae Noi said. “In the
meantime, why don’t you tell me a bit more about these two mahouts.”
“Will Pohn-Pohn be able to stay at the sanctuary?”
“I hope so,” said Mae Noi. “But elephants are worth a great deal of money. I don’t think they will give up so easily.”
“But they can’t take her away, can they?”
“Elephants are considered property in a court of law, Tua. If they have a legal claim on Pohn-Pohn, I’m afraid there won’t be much we can do.”
“Oh.” Tua looked at Pohn-Pohn, and her eyes began to water. “I thought she’d be safe here.”
“We’ll do everything we possibly can. I promise. Now eat your curry.”
As hungry as Tua felt, she found that she could not swallow another bite. It was as if a door had closed in her throat.
“Who do we have here?” called a voice from across the yard.
Tua looked up, put down her bowl, and wiped her watery eyes.
A tall, thin woman with long blond curls walked up to Pohn-Pohn and offered her a banana. After Pohn-Pohn had smelled her all over, the woman began an inspection of her own.
“This is Pohn-Pohn and Tua,” Mae Noi said. “Tua, this is Margareta, Nikky’s mother.”
“
Sawatdee kha,
Tua,” Margareta said.
“
Kha.
” Tua bowed a wai.
“How does she look?” asked Mae Noi.
“She’s a bit underweight. I see some sores around her neck and leg, but they’ll heal quickly enough. And she has scars around the insides of her ears, but they’ve completely healed. I don’t think it damaged her hearing at all. She must have been very young when she was broken in. Those scars on her hip are newer, probably from a machete. I would say she’s remarkably healthy and alert. I’ll take some tests after she settles in a bit—if that’s all right with you, Tua?”
“What kind of tests?”
“Blood, urine, and stool. And I’ll give her a
couple of vaccinations as well. You’ll let me know when you think she’s ready?”
“Okay,” Tua said.
“Most elephants that beg in the cities are in poor health, Tua,” Mae Noi said. “It’s very stressful for them. And, of course, they always run the risk of being hit by cars. They don’t get any proper medical attention. We’ll do as much for Pohn-Pohn as we can, in case she has to go back.”
“Okay,” Tua said. Then she looked at Pohn-Pohn and told her with her eyes, “I’ll never let you go back.”
A
farang
man ran to the edge of the platform, leaned over the railing, and called out to Mae Noi in English.
“There are two men on a motorcycle at the gate.”
Mae Noi looked at Tua.
“It looks like your mahouts are here already,” she said.
Tua sprang up from the ground, ran to Pohn-Pohn’s side, and began scanning the grounds for a place to hide.
“They already know you’re here,” Mae Noi said. “There’s no point in hiding.”
“We’ll go to the forest,” Tua said.
“The safest place for Pohn-Pohn is here at the sanctuary. It could be they’re only after money.”
“But I don’t have any money,” Tua said.
“We’ll see about that later,” Mae Noi said. “Let’s hear what they have to say.”
Then she turned to the
farang
on the platform and said in English, “Tell Sekson he can let them in.”
After washing ashore downriver, the two waterlogged mahouts trudged across a parched melon field and hitched a ride to their motorcycle in the back of a truck full of nervous chickens.
Nang spit a feather out of his mouth. “Can we go back to Chiang Mai now, Nak?”
Nak lifted his chin up out of his hands where he had been resting it. The clucking chickens in their cages had lured Nak into hatching a new plan. He stared across the truck bed at Nang and thought to himself,
Chickens are more helpful than he is.
“And walk away from all that money?” he said at last. “Do you know what an elephant is worth?
No, they’ll pay. They’ll pay plenty.” He brushed the feathers off his shoulders and chest as if preparing himself for the negotiations, then hopped out of the back as the truck came to a stop.
“What if they won’t let us in?” Nang followed Nak, still worrying about the razorback dog at the entrance.
“Ha!” Nak dismissed the notion with a laugh, climbed atop the motorcycle, and motioned for Nang to get into the sidecar. “I’d like to see them try to stop me.”
The motorcycle roared up one hill and down another, then crept to a stop at the entrance to the sanctuary like a cat stalking a bird.
Nak flipped up the visor on his helmet. “I’m here to collect my elephant. Open up,” he ordered the gatekeeper.
Seksan the gatekeeper looked at Fudge the dog. Fudge assumed a crouch, bared his teeth, and raised the hairs on his razorback.
“Have you got an appointment?” asked Seksan.
“They’ll be expecting me,” Nak answered.
“Wait there.” Seksan stepped inside the guardhouse to make a call. A moment later he began raising the gatepost.
Nak popped the clutch and, spitting gravel, the motorcycle reared up like a stallion. Then it dropped to the ground, lurched forward, and ducked under the half-raised gatepost with Nak crouching over the handlebars. Nang was hunched in the sidecar like a toadstool. The chocolate-coated dog with the razorback fell in behind them, baying a warning to the other sanctuary dogs. Elephants began lumbering toward the main building from all directions, gathering into a single herd. A swarm of wasps shadowed the motorcycle like a dark cloud, and Nang hunched lower in his seat. Then a pair of mynahs dove across their path and Nak swerved into a ditch, came up on the other side, and nearly collided with a row of water buffaloes. He veered back down into the ditch and came up fishtailing onto the road again. After gaining control of the
motorcycle, he aimed it at the building ahead and gunned the engine.