Murder at the House of Rooster Happiness (37 page)

There. She’d done what she could. That would have to be enough.

Uncertain what to do, she looked around at the garden. There were Siam tulips, and silver-leaf ginger, just like in her own garden. Funny how she’d never noticed them before. Of course, she hadn’t really been out here much. Just for a brief respite on busy days, for a cup of tea, or to take a call on her mobile. But she’d never really been out here alone, with nothing pressing to do. With no one to talk to or listen to.

So it was for the first time that she noticed how the splash of the fountain echoed against the hospital wall behind her. And how the breeze swirled a few leaves around and around in lazy circles. This was a moment of peace that she would never have experienced if she were with a group, or engrossed in a phone call.

Then she heard voices behind her and she turned to see a small army making its way through the door. There was the father, Mr. Fuller, in the lead, chivalrously holding the door open for his daughter-in-law, who was being pushed in a wheelchair by Sisithorn. Then the son, pushed by his mother.

They all emerged and Mr. Fuller turned abruptly, letting the door close with finality behind him as he stalked across the patio, trying to retake the lead. It seemed important for him to reach Ladarat first. She couldn’t imagine why that would be but realized that she really didn’t want to find out.

He looked angry. More than angry—it looked like he had something he needed to prove. His face was set in a hard mask, and Ladarat noticed he didn’t even look to his left as he strode past his family.

It was a race, of sorts. But at first it looked like he wouldn’t get in front of them. Sisithorn was walking at a brisk clip, wearing a fixed distant smile—
yim thak thaai
. She’d easily outdistanced Mrs. Fuller and her son. But Mr. Fuller was gaining, and as they passed the fountain, he overtook them, striding out ahead with a sense of purpose that was bewildering to behold.

Once he was out in front, though, he seemed to slow down and take on a more dignified pace as befits the head of a family. And it was with a calm expression that he reached Ladarat first and, much to her surprise, offered a
wai
that was very polite. His hands rose to the level of his nose. It was the sort of
wai
that siblings might offer to each other, and Ladarat was touched. But she was also confused. She’d expected the man to be angry. And perhaps he was. But he wasn’t showing it.

Instead, he simply stood in front of her.

“Thank you. I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve done for our son and our daughter-in-law.”

That was hardly what Ladarat had expected. But if there was one thing she’d learned from her year in America, it was that Americans always surprised you. You never could tell.

“It is nothing,” she said, trying to hide her surprise. “Nothing. It is what we do.”

“Yes, but, I mean, I know you did extra. I know you and your colleagues did more than what you would normally do. Because… because of who we are. And… and I just wanted you to know that we appreciate it.”

He looked as though he wanted to say more. But the rest of the entourage had arrived at the finish line, and Ladarat introduced herself to the husband, thinking that he didn’t look like he’d been declared dead. Even all of that gauze didn’t hide the bruises that mottled his cheekbones and forehead. But he was clearly handsome in a blond, American sort of way, with green eyes that darted back and forth between Ladarat and his father.

She offered him a
wai
, which he returned, clumsily but with a smile.

“I’m glad to see you well.” It was all she could think of to say, but it hardly seemed appropriate to the moment.

“Thank you, Khun Ladarat. My parents have told me how much of a help you’ve been. I’m very grateful.” It took her a moment to realize that Andrew was speaking in Thai. Heavily accented Thai, with tones that were a little off-kilter, but easy enough to understand.

“Your Thai is very good, Khun Andrew. You have learned well.”

“Thank you, Khun. I was a teacher of English previously. But I found it helped to know Thai, if I was expecting my students to speak English.”

And that, Ladarat decided, was a good rule. If you want to teach someone your way of thinking, you need to be fluent in theirs.

“I’m sorry that you’re still in a wheelchair, but Khun Sisithorn tells me the strength in your legs is coming back?”

Andrew smiled. “Yes, thanks to the excellent care I got. The injury to my spine didn’t damage any nerves, and they tell me I’m healing very fast.” He wiggled the toes of both feet, looking down proudly. “I should be able to start walking in another week.”

The Fuller family gathered around the table, moving Kate’s and Andrew’s wheelchairs side by side. The two newlyweds held hands as they sat next to each other, and Ladarat thought she’d never seen two people look happier than those two did in that moment.

“Khun Ladarat…” Sisithorn spoke up for the first time. “Where is the man? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

Ladarat had had the same thought, but she’d decided that he would appear at the right time, and in the right way. Hadn’t he spent the better part of the last week watching and waiting? If anyone knew when to appear, it was him.

And so they sat in silence for what seemed like a full minute. Kate and Andrew in unison turned their faces to the blue sky overhead, marveling in the daylight and fresh air and sunshine. And Andrew’s parents looked on with relief and pure enjoyment, as if the pleasure these two young people were experiencing was all of the pleasure they could ever want for themselves. They held this pose for what seemed like hours but which probably wasn’t more than a minute or two.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Ladarat saw the mahout materialize out of the bushes behind the family. He crossed the stone patio noiselessly, his bare feet making just a whisper of sound as he padded over to Ladarat’s side and offered a deep
wai
. He didn’t look at the family, only at Ladarat.

“You will translate for me, Khun Ladarat?”

She nodded. She noticed that he’d taken considerable effort with his appearance. He’d bathed, and his clothes seemed, if not new, then lightly worn. Now he wore loose cotton trousers and a lightly frayed yellow cotton button-down shirt. He looked for all the world like a farm laborer cleaned up and going to town.

He offered the others a deep
wai
, bent at the waist. Then he gave Ladarat a quick glance and looked down fixedly at his feet as he began to speak.

“I wish to say how sorry I am for all of the trouble I caused,” he said slowly. He glanced at Ladarat, who translated. She thought it was odd to offer this direct translation, without a preamble or explanation, but it seemed to be what the man wanted, and the two young people and the parents were staring fixedly at him, waiting.

“And it is my fault. I want you to know that. You must know that,” he said. “For a mahout, the elephant is an extension of himself. What the elephant does, the man does.”

He stopped and for the first time looked at Ladarat. He waited a long moment, as if to be certain that Ladarat was translating correctly. She knew that he didn’t speak any English at all, and yet his fixed gaze made her more careful than she might otherwise have been.

“And so your sadness is my sadness, too. And for that, I am deeply sorry.”

And he knelt on the stone patio and placed his hands level with his shoulders. He brought his forehead down to meet the stone once, twice, three times. And then he sat back on his haunches.

It seemed for a moment as though he was waiting, but Ladarat realized he was just too weak, and too tired, to get up. The poor man had been waiting here for a week, with little food other than what he got at the monastery last night. Sleeping in a stairwell when he could. And gnawed by anxiety that the American might die.

She wasn’t at all sure how the Americans would respond, but she decided in an instant that she wouldn’t wait to find out. She rose and bent over the man, taking him firmly by an elbow and helping him to his feet. She pulled a chair over from behind her and sat him down. It was obvious from his expression that he was uncomfortable, and she knew he’d probably rather be on the ground. But she wanted him to be seated among them as an equal so that the Americans could respond to him as an equal. This wasn’t the time or the place to mete out charitable platitudes, as Americans are wont to do.

Oh, it’s not your fault.

Oh, these things happen.

That wouldn’t do. No, they would need to acknowledge that this was indeed the mahout’s fault. And they would need to forgive him.

They seemed stunned by his admission, and they sat there in silence. Then, to her surprise, it was Kate who spoke first.

“The elephant. I think you told us her name was Pha mai?”

The mahout nodded uncertainly.

“What happened to her?”

“She had to be killed,” the mahout said simply. “It’s the law. When an elephant attacks a person, it has to be killed.”

Ah, so that was why the mahout could make a journey to Chiang Mai. There was no elephant at home to care for. That elephant was his life and his livelihood. And now it was gone.

But it was Andrew’s response that surprised her the most.

“So you have no way to make a living now?” he asked in Thai. Ladarat scanned the confused faces and translated for the Americans. The boy nodded his thanks, but his attention was focused on the mahout.

“That is true,” the mahout said quietly. “I can’t afford to buy another elephant. They cost hundreds of thousands of baht.” And he swallowed as he said that, as if that amount of money was beyond his understanding. “But it is the way it should be.”

Ladarat translated.

“You worked with this elephant for a long time, didn’t you?” Andrew asked in Thai.

The mahout only nodded.

“That is very sad,” Andrew said in English. “He has been hurt worse than we have,” he said to no one in particular. He was looking at his wife, but Ladarat got the feeling that he was speaking to his parents. “We are recovering, but his livelihood is gone.” He paused. “Personally, I don’t think there is a need for an apology. He has suffered more than we have. Too much maybe.” Then he looked at his parents, who nodded hesitantly. Then to his wife, who smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Then, Khun,” Andrew said in Thai. He turned toward the mahout. “We forgive you. And we thank you for doing so much to help us after we were hurt. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, we would not be alive.” And he offered the mahout a deep
wai
. His wife followed suit almost immediately, as did his parents, after a moment of self-consciousness.

There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, and so the mahout rose and made a
wai
to everyone gathered around their little table. Then he walked past the Americans as silently as he’d come, floating over the stones and disappearing into the bushes as an elephant melts into the jungle.

Wan jan

MONDAY

HOW TO CARE FOR AN AGED CAR

L
adarat’s office was a picture of neatness that didn’t do justice to the morning of chaos that the inspectors had wreaked. She’d no sooner arrived at 7
A.M.
than a group of three of them found her. Whatever store of
sabai sabai
she’d stored up yesterday afternoon and evening was gone in an instant.

Apparently the inspectors had wanted to interview the night shift nurses, and so they’d come at 5
A.M
., striding around the wards as if they owned the hospital. They’d poked into corners and checked the expiration dates on medications. Even the fire extinguishers—they’d wanted to know when they’d been inspected last. And then they’d wanted to talk with her, the nurse ethicist. Endless questions about cases she could hardly remember. But she’d gotten through it eventually, and now they were over in the outpatient clinics, doing whatever damage they could.

When the phone rang, she assumed it was someone from the clinic asking for help. But it was Wiriya.