Far above, a blue plastic construction tarp flaps, wind-frayed and brittle, along the edges of the large atrium skylight hole it was meant to temporarily cover. Standing in what could only be the food court— he
’
s thinking
Sbarros
, Burger King Express, some American-owned Chinese chain with the word
panda
in the name—he stares at the ragged hole in the sky, sun blinking through the synthetic fray like a semaphore, and he marvels at the absurdity of it all, a Western-style mini-mall in a remote rural region of a Buddhist nation.
After several minutes he looks away from the opening and reconsiders the condition of the mall that never was. He wonders how much Himalayan wind and snow, sun and rain it will take to bring it all down again.
From below, a noise. Henry slowly tilts his head and sees movement in the atrium. It is a barefoot boy, maybe eight or nine, in a burnt-orange
gho.
His head is clean-shaven and he walks with a limp. Several times the boy passes from the front entrance of the mall to a place out of Henry
’
s line of sight, where Henry
’
s hypothetical Applebee
’
s might have gone. Probably stealing shit after all, he thinks. Or vandalizing, doing a little Himalayan graffiti tagging on the bare walls, and who can blame him, really.
Several times the boy returns and disappears. Henry is certain that the boy is unaware of his presence, but on his last pass before disappearing, he stops and looks up, directly at Henry.
They stare at each other for a moment, until Henry blinks and waves. Instead of waving back, the boy presses his hands together at his chest and bows gently and slightly from the waist.
The boy is gone by the time Henry makes his way back downstairs. He calls after him anyway, his American voice echoing off the garish walls of made-in-China cement. Outside, the sunset wind has begun its crawl down the backs of the peaks and into the valley. As he looks for a sign of the boy, who vanished like a phantom, he hears
fabric flapping in the rising breeze. Overhead he sees the boy
’
s handiwork: the breathtaking, brilliantly colored squares of a prayer flag, strung across the broad expanse of the vacant building
’
s entrance. Five rows, each more than twenty flags long. He steps away from the building to get a better look and stops after a dozen steps, when he is out from under the shadow of the walls and can see the mall and the swirling flags framed by the sun-dashed tops of the surrounding peaks.
The blue, white, red, green, and yellow cloth squares represent, as Maya explained to him at dinner at her nephew
’
s place, the five elements: sky/space, wind/air, fire, water, and earth. Maya told him that as wind passes over the flags, the surrounding air is purified and energized with peace, compassion, and wisdom. Finally, if he remembers it right—and he
’
s fairly sure he remembers everything Maya has told him during their brief time together—at the center of the flags is the image of a wind horse, which combines the speed of wind and the strength of the horse to carry the blessings of love to all sentient beings in the universe.
“
Including capitalists and liars?
”
he had asked her.
“
As long as they
’
re sentient capitalists and liars,
”
she had replied.
Walking back to his temporary house in the development that never was, he can
’
t stop thinking about the boy and the sunset flags outside the mall and how beauty and absurdity battle over every pulse of his existence.
~ * ~
III
~ * ~
Uninvited Guests
The first death threat arrives via the opposite of a prayer flag, a handkerchief-sized homicide flag with his arrow-riddled likeness
Sharpied
onto red-white-and-blue fabric. He finds it nailed into his front door when he comes home after his visit to the abandoned mall. And now, inside, he is finding even more threats via different mediums—text messages, phone calls, and words slathered on his bedroom wall with what he is hoping is the blood of a chicken or some animal other than human.
All saying pretty much the same thing:
Go away or we will kill you.
In the upstairs bathroom he washes his hands and face, strips down to his boxers, brushes his teeth, and climbs into bed. But falling asleep proves difficult with
Die Imperialist Yankee
scrawled in mystery blood on the opposite wall, next to a framed Thomas
Kinkade
Snow White Discovers the Cottage
print. He stands and considers doing something about the visual assault, but the best solution he can come up with is to turn the print around, with Snow White facing the wall.
He
’
s getting back into bed when his cell phone rings again. He
’
s reluctant to answer. Receiving prerecorded death threats is one thing, but he
’
s
not ready to handle them in real time. Sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the tiny screen, he sees that it
’
s not a would-be Galadonian political assassin. It
’
s not even Rachel. It
’
s Maya.
“
Maya?
”
“
Yes. Just checking to see if everything is all right.
”
He rises and begins to pace the new ivory broadloom.
“
Other than the threats on my life, the knots in my stomach, and the uncontrollable trembling, yeah, I
’
m just splendid.
”
“
Death threats?
”
He parts the curtain and peeks out at the darkened street, at Madison Ellison
’
s empty driveway. Was our meeting this morning a hallucination, he thinks, or does such a woman actually exist?
“
Yes,
”
he says to Maya.
“
Death threats.
”
He tells her about his walk through the neighborhood and the empty mall and what was waiting for him when he returned.
Maya sighs.
“
These are the actions of the Cultural Preservation Movement. I doubt that they will carry through with any of it.
”
“
I was hoping for a little more assurance than
‘
doubt.
’”
“
Going on midnight adventures with an individual such as your friend Madden, drawing that kind of attention to yourself, is not the best way to ingratiate yourself to them.
”
“
I imagine working for an American multinational and living in a subdivision called USAVille isn
’
t the most diplomatically subtle move either.
”
She laughs.
“
Do you want to return to the spa?
”
“
No. Hopefully, I can get to sleep. I
’
ve been trying, but I don
’
t know why it
’
s taking—
”
“
Maybe because it
’
s only seven o
’
clock, Henry. And last night you slept for more than fourteen hours.
”
“
Oh.
”
“
Have you told your chaperone about this? Shug? Perhaps he can come and make sure that—
”
“
No, thank you. I
’
d rather deal with political assassination than character assassination.
”
“
Shug is a better man than you think. Have you eaten?
”
“
Not since brunch with the PR person to the despots. Would you be interested in joining me?
”
Maya pauses. Henry thinks he hears an adult male voice speaking to someone on her end. The guy he saw in the car with her?
“
That won
’
t be possible tonight. Why don
’
t you eat some of the rice and vegetables I prepared for you?
”
“
Can you guarantee it hasn
’
t been poisoned?
”
She laughs again.
“
I
’
m calling to make a plan for tomorrow. We should meet at the call center first thing in the morning.
”
“
For what? Trust falls? Our annual holiday party? A meeting of the board of directors?
”
“
Not far off, actually. I guess you haven
’
t been checking your e-mail.
”
“
I kind of lost interest after I saw my corporate profile
pic
PhotoShopped
onto the body of a man hanging from the national tree. What
’
s up?
”
“
Audrey and Pat are coming.
”
Henry walks over to the
Kinkade
print and turns it back around. The river in
Snow White Discovers the Cottage,
he decides, bears an eerie resemblance to the emotional high point of Audrey and Pat
’
s Happy Mountain Springs creation myth video.
“
To Gal-ado?
”
“
Yes. According to . . . is it Giffler?
”
“
Uh-huh.
”
“
Well, according to Mister Giffler, the sale of a supposedly eco-friendly company like Happy Mountain Springs to a huge corporation, despite being welcomed by the financial markets, has apparently proven to be wildly unpopular with the loyal, environmentally responsible Happy Mountain Springs base. In fact, he said that his suggestion that they visit was based on one of your earlier ideas.
”
Henry approaches the wall and traces his finger along the dried blood of the letter
D
in
Die.
He likes it that she used the phrase
supposedly eco-
friendly.
“
Wow. What a shocker. I mean, who would have thought that selling out to a soulless conglomerate would have such a negative impact on a core group of spiritually enlightened, environmentally responsible consumers?
”
“
Irony, yes?
”
“
Yes. And they feel that making a trip here and publicizing it will be a way to make some kind of karmic corporate reparations?
”
“
This, in essence, is correct.
”
“
When?
”
“
According to
Giffler
—
”
“
Who is an absolute looney toon.
”
“
Well,
”
Maya continues,
“
he says they are scrambling to pull this together ASAP. He wants us to come up with a tentative agenda by end of day tomorrow.
”
“
Eight a.m.: meet and greet with psychotic delusional prince.
”
“
If you like,
”
she says,
“
I could pick you up.
”
“
Nine forty-five: press conference with nonexistent members of the electronic Galadonian media.
”
Maya, deciding to play along, adds,
“
Eleven a.m.: photo op alongside dried-up riverbed. Noon: explain female homosexuality to a population that does not have a word for it, let alone acknowledge the concept.
”