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Missionary Kid Chronicles: The Naga Trilogy: Rescue

By Sean Sanborn

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1. The Missing Children
Am I going to be killed?
Katya stood knee deep in the dangerous Salween River, her feet sinking in the sandy clay. A few more steps forward and the torrent would sweep her away. The river was both the source of livelihood and of instant death for the remote village in Thailand. But she knew the river well and it did not concern her.
Several times today she had passed the ladies of the village gossiping and each time she drew near they had become silent until she had passed. Their widened eyes and pinched lips revealed more than any conversation she might have overheard. Ei Pwei and PhaTa Mae had done this as well as well as Ba Oy and Mway Khan. Older men playing a boardgame, Saw Na and Saw Nu Nu had just glared at her.
Something was going on and she was clearly at the center of it. An intuitive sickening feeling clenched up in the pit of her stomach. There would soon be another disappearance.
After her parents went missing, when she was seven-years-old, Katya had moved in with her aunt and uncle. She was grateful she could remain in Mae Naga, the same village where she had grown up. All of her friends were here and it was hard to imagine ever living anywhere else. Her parents’ disappearance was shrouded in mystery. The last time she saw them, they had left to go fishing. Neither they nor their boat were ever seen again. Since then, the world had never seemed real to her. She was grateful to her kind aunt and uncle for taking care of her, but nothing could ever replace the love of her parents.
Two long years had gone by, and she missed them terribly. Were they here now, they could tell her everything was going to be fine. For as far back as she could remember, each year, just before the rainy season, one of the children of the village would disappear. A tight knot in her chest warned her it was about to happen again and the adults knew something about it. This time, though, she feared something terrible would happen to her.
Maybe I’m just paranoid.
It always happened the same way. For a few days everyone would talk in fearful hushed tones. Then one morning, one of her friends would vanish.
Last year, when her best friend Moo had disappeared, she had asked her aunt where her friend had gone. At first, her aunt pretended she hadn’t heard the question. When Katya pressed the question again, her aunt had replied, “She will not be returning from where she has gone and you must never speak of her again.”
“But she is my best friend!” pressed Katya.
“Promise me you shall never speak of her again, or I shall punish you severely,” her aunt said with dangerous eyes.
“I promise, Auntie.” She knew arguing with her aunt when she was like this would lead to a very severe beating she would feel for days. This promise, though, turned out to be an easy one to keep, as no one else dared to talk about what had happened.
One time she had heard one of her friends ask an adult about the missing children, and she was told the child had gone to attend school with a relative in the big city. Aside from that one time, the adults would never speak the name of the child again. It was almost as if the child had never existed.
Even though Moo disappeared a year ago, Katya remembered it as if it was yesterday. She had been smart, funny and always knew how to get Katya to laugh. She appreciated having a friend who kept her from always being so serious. Best of all, they shared many things in common, including the fact that they were both orphans. Her heart ached for her.
Now, here it was the hot season again, and, as usual, the adults were again acting mysteriously. This time, though, it drove a sword of terror deep inside her chest.
Katya took another step into the angry river and draped her circular net over her arm. Holding onto the rope, she tossed it as far as she could away from the submerged rocks.
She didn’t want to be suspicious of her friends and relatives, but she knew something terrible was stirring. She selfishly hoped one of the bullying boys would be chosen instead, but deep down she knew she would be next.
Next what, though? Will they sell me or kill me or could it possibly be something wonderful?
Katya dug her toes into the squishy mud and pulled the net in.
Empty again!
She bunched it up and tossed it back in a wide beautiful spiral. Her people had a method for catching fish that wasn’t employed the same way anywhere else in the world because of all the hidden boulders under the surface that could snag the net.
“What-if’s” stirred crazily in her mind. She especially wondered if she would be chosen to be reunited with her best friend Moo. She hoped she would be taken to study in the city with her.
One thing she knew for sure was that she needed to pretend she was unaware of what was going on if she wanted to discover the secret.
As she slowly pulled on the rope, it felt, for a moment, like it was caught on a rock. Then she felt a tug. She had a catch. When she pulled it in, she was excited to see the net held about a week’s worth of food for her family. She scooped it up in a large net that could only hold half of the fish. A huge Pla Muk catfish struggled to escape the net. She yanked it out of the water, bonked it on the head with a river rock, slung it over her shoulder and plodded up the hill to her home. It weighed as much as a young pig.
Will I even get the chance to eat this before this unknown event happens?
When she reached her aunt and uncle’s thatched shack, she wiped her feet on some bamboo and climbed up the bamboo ladder. At the top of the stairs, she plopped the fish, still in its net, into a cistern. She lowered her head, entered the kitchen side of her house, and when her eyes adjusted to the dim light, saw her aunt and uncle sitting stern-faced and backs rigid on a mat on the floor of the kitchen. Clean tear streaks made channels down her auntie’s dirt-caked face. In front of them were several bowls filled with Katya’s favorite meals. There was a steaming bowl of batwings, mushrooms and greens. Another bowl contained several heads of snakefish, and, of course, yummy bamboo shoots. She salivated as she saw there would even be desert. Hmm, honeyed mountain-rat jerky.
Why were they having such a special feast tonight?
She tried to control her involuntary shaking with a deep breath and a smile.
“Thank you, Auntie,” she said as calmly as she could. She wondered what was really going on.
Why do they look so upset? Is that something about to happen now?
Her auntie’s voice cracked, “You are a hard worker and a very good girl. Your uncle and I want you to know how much we appreciate you.”
“Thank you. This looks delicious.” She hugged herself to control the shivering. Then she sat down facing them.
Her uncle silently handed her his large red shoulder bag full of supplies. A machete handle jutted out of the bag.
“You must leave here forever,” her aunt said and wiped more tears away.
“Auntie?” She blinked hard and shook her head.
So this is what happened to the others. They were kicked out.
“Our canoe is a kilometer south of here, near where we gather the mushrooms.” She knew the spot clearly.
Why do I have to leave?
“In the thicket?”
Is this really happening?
“Yes.” Her auntie’s lips were trembling as she croaked the word out.
“Eat this meal and then run away,” her uncle said. “You are smart and work hard. Go make a good life in the city. Your time here is over.”
“Uncle?” Her eyes pleaded with his eyes. Tears of pain splashed her salty lips.
“You are in danger here. If you are home when we return, then you will die.” They both stood up.
“But...” She couldn’t think of what to say because her mind swam with too many questions.
“The Spirit Doctor has made his decision,” her uncle said.
What does he have to do with it?
Katya stepped forward and hugged them both at the same time. Her chest hurt and she started to weep. They held her close until she had regained some composure.
“You must live. You must leave. You must be strong,” her uncle said earnestly. Then he grabbed his wife’s hand and continued, “It is time.” He pulled his wife gently out the kitchen door.
Leave or die!
She watched as her uncle put his arm around her aunt. Katya had never seen them touch each other in front of anyone. This simple romantic gesture jarred her just as much as anything else she had encountered this evening.
But this is my home. Not anymore. Leave or die!
The gourmet meal now seemed so unappetizing. She took a banana leaf and poured the jerky into it. She wrapped it tight with a piece of twine. She shoved it into the side bag.
She went to her bed, lifted the thin mat and grabbed her most prized possession. She held a wallet sized photo of her and Moo hugging and smiling at each other. Two years ago, on a supply trip to the town of Mae Sarieng, she had splurged to have their picture taken in the photo booth, but it had been worth it. She kissed the photo and shoved it into the heavy tribal bag. She grabbed a change of clothes and crammed them in. The bag was now completely full.
Maybe now I will find Moo and live with her.
Katya knew she should run for her life, but she also wanted to know why she had to leave. The Spirit Doctor’s house was at the edge of the tree line, and she was sure she could get there without being seen. She walked out of the kitchen and straightened her back. The sky glowed red and orange as twilight set-in. She climbed down the ladder, looked back at her home and said a silent goodbye. Urgency whispered at her, but it was hard to get her legs moving. A light breeze sprung up causing the bamboo kitchen door to bang shut and bounce open again.
Leave or die!
She took a deep breath, hardened her eyes and marched to the tree line. She began jogging down the buffalo trail. She easily leapt over the obstacles in her backyard. When she could faintly see the Spirit Doctor’s shack through the thick vegetation, she slowed down. She strode stealthily down the path towards the rice paddy. Soft murmurings of many voices could be heard. Most, if not all, of the adults of the village were gathered in front of the Spirit Doctor’s hut.
She couldn’t see any way of getting close enough without being seen. Any sprint or crawl across the rice paddy for closer cover would be noticed immediately. To her left she noticed a large pine tree. She wondered if climbing it might help her to hear what was being said.
It was simple to swing up onto the lowest branch. Climbing this tree was not much different than climbing a ladder as the branches were pretty close to each other. When she reached two thirds of the way up, she paused as the tree slowly swayed. She had guessed correctly. The voices below were now clearer, and she could make out a few snippets of conversation.
A gentle breeze soothed her and it felt wonderful. But she didn’t want to feel wonderful. The breeze caused the tree to sway and the wonderful feeling quickly changed to nausea. She held on tight.
Below she heard a twig snap and caught her breath. A hunting dog strolled out of the forest. It was owned by a neighbor who lived two houses down. It paused and looked at her before continuing on over to the rice field. She was glad it knew her well and didn’t bark at her.
The branch she sat on began to creak. She quickly shifted her weight over to a larger branch and grabbed at the tree trunk. Just in time. The dog’s owner sauntered along the trail following his dog. Fortunately, he hadn’t heard the creak, and the trunk mostly shielded her from view.
The packed dirt area in front of the Spirit Doctor’s house was crowded. The men sat on the right side and the women were on the left. She could see the chief of the village wearing a white button-down shirt and black pants. He was the only one wearing city clothes. Both the women and the men wore their traditional red shirts with white tassels. She couldn’t see a single white dress, so she knew no unmarried girls were down there. She looked down at her own white dress. It wasn’t so white anymore because of her chores. She spotted a few older boys, but none of the boys her age were there.
There was still no sign yet of the Spirit Doctor. A few people sat cross-legged and a couple of people sat on firewood logs. Most squatted patiently with arms around their knees, which they pulled towards their chests.
About the time the neighbor with the dog reached the group and squatted next to the other men, the Spirit Doctor came out of his house.
Interesting, he doesn’t usually wear the hat made of python skin.
He held in his hand an ancient carved staff. She guessed the engravings on it had symbolic meaning. He stretched his back erect and held his arms out. The staff held high in one hand.
“I have consulted with the spirits, and they have given me their message.” He paused and slowly scrutinized the audience. No one met his eyes. Many villagers leaned forward, lifting their heels off the ground.
“Tonight a hero shall be chosen to receive the highest honor. For our village to continue to receive such great blessing and protection, we must obey our lord’s commands. As you know, our lord is just and demands only one sacrifice each year. We shall again choose the least of us to receive the highest reward. We shall offer one of our precious children to our lord and master. When the Naga eats the child, her karma shall change from the lowest to the highest.”
Did he just say a dragon would come and eat a child?
Bile began to rise in her throat. The Spirit Doctor continued, “We have the promise that the child’s soul shall reincarnate to a life of wealth and luck. Alternatively, some girls have special spiritual abilities and can become a Naga Queen. This child will become a direct conduit of communication with the spirit lords. Either way, in life or death, there shall be great benefit for everyone. This year’s recipient of this highest honor shall be the orphan, Katya.”
Katya’s body went rigid. She stopped breathing, and it felt as though her heart had stopped, too.
They were planning to kill her. They were going to sacrifice her alive to a terrible dragon. Her best friend had not been sent away to live somewhere else. A dragon had eaten her.
Her body started to shake as tears streaked down her face. She hugged the tree tightly, as if it were a person offering comfort.
She blanked her mind from the painful images, took deep breaths and slowly recovered from her violent shaking. Her mind attempted to resume mourning for her friend when she shut the image out of her mind again.
Leave or die. If I don’t get ahold of myself then I will die, too. I must escape. I can mourn for my friends later.
She took another deep breath, wiped her tear-drenched eyes with her bark-covered hands and then tried to look over at the crowd. They had moved. She could see a procession of flashlights and torches slowly winding up the trail towards her house. They were now nearly halfway there.
Limb by limb, she acrobatically swung down, until she reached the forest floor. The most direct path to the canoe was north, and she started in that direction. Her flip-flops started loudly smacking her heels. She stopped, removed them and stored them in her pack. Her feet were already leathered from years of walking barefoot, so she resumed running at full-speed.
The breeze from running made her tears drizzle back into her ears. She knew every log, dip and tree so well, she might have been able to run this way blindfolded. Every time her mind tried to pull up the faces of people she had lost, her mind blockaded the image. She pushed aside all but her external senses as she focused on self-preservation.
Whenever she stepped on a stick or sharp rock that caused any pain, it immediately increased her sense of exhilaration. She must make it to the canoe quickly, lest she be discovered. When she reached the thicket, her face was wet with sweat and tears. Her feet throbbed but didn’t hurt.
It took only moments to slide the canoe into the churning dangerous river. The cool water soothed her feet. Her hands touched the soft felt of a blanket inside the canoe. Here was another gift from her aunt and uncle. She wanted to weep over losing them, over the loss of her parents, over the loss of her friends. She hopped into the canoe, grabbed the pole and pushed it into the mud to launch farther from the bank.
She had practiced steering the canoe many times before on her fishing trips with her kind uncle. She knew most novices would probably just spin around in circles and eventually slam into a rock or get sucked into one of the many whirlpools. The river was already treacherous during the day but even more so at night. But her uncle had trained her well, and her eyesight in the moonlight was nearly as precise as it was in the daytime.
She wrapped the blanket around herself and tried to organize her thoughts as the canoe carried her downstream. Only now could she allow herself to bring to mind the faces of several missing boys and girls. Katya felt guilty she couldn’t remember more.
Were they all eaten, or have others escaped?
She shoved the pole into the muddy river floor and navigated easily away from any of the dangerous whirlpools or hidden boulders she came upon. The soft breeze and trickling sound of the river helped to calm her nerves. Soon she was halfway to the major trading village of Sop Muay. From there she would try make her way to a big city.
Her uncle had once told her about people from other countries whose skin looked like that of someone already dead. These white foreigners could usually be trusted to help in a jam. Her aunt and uncle had discussed for hours whether their kindness was due to an attempt to appease their god, or if they just wanted to earn more merit.
Will I ever see my aunt or uncle again? What about my friends back in the village? Oh my, what about them? Are they now in danger of being sacrificed? Was I selfish to run away?
She eased the canoe over to the shore, slid it between some bushes, and finally allowed herself to weep. She fell to the hard sand and curled up in a fetal position, still wrapped in the blanket. She opened her eyes wide and knew who was next on the list to be sacrificed. In her heart, she was sure the gentle Nam Fon would be the next victim. She had to find someone to help her soon or her friend would die.
Wave after wave of sobs wracked her body. An hour later, sleep mercifully washed over her.

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