Human Touch

The whine of the motorcycle engine filled Eddie’s ears.  The breeze blew across his face.  He had his arms around Chanda’s waist, and he crouched as low as he could.  He felt the warmth of her body. 

 

Eddie had to chuckle.  Chanda must have been in her late fifties.  Old enough to be a widow and have four grown children.  Yet, the sensation he was experiencing was unmistakable.  He regretted there would be no time to act on his feelings.

 

Eddie had caught a lucky break with Chanda.  Her family sold most of their farm’s produce in Krong Kracheh.  Among their customers were the fishermen and sailors who traveled on the Mekong River.  One of her sons lived in town and sold their vegetables at a market within walking distance of the port.  Sometimes he drove his truck to the dock and delivered food directly to the boats.

 

Chanda had to knock several times on her son’s apartment door.  He got up before dawn each day, but it was still early for him.  He looked confused when he saw Eddie standing next to his mother.  She pushed him back into the apartment, and motioned to Eddie to come in and close the door.

 

They argued for a few minutes.  Her son, Utey, was understandably upset that there was an American standing in his apartment in the middle of the night.  He was confused as to why his mother didn’t seem to have a problem with that.  The argument stopped and they both looked at Eddie. 

 

He wasn’t sure what to do, so he took out his wallet.  He pulled out the rest of the money he had promised Chanda, split that in half, and gave it to her.  Major Anthony held his hands up like he was steering a motorcycle, and pointed to the money he’d handed her.  Then he made a motion like he was rowing a boat, and pointed to the rest of the money, still in his hand.

 

He looked the two Cambodians, and knew they understood.  Eddie had just paid Chanda for the motorcycle ride.  If they can get him on a boat, he’ll give them the rest of the money he had promised.

 

The two spoke briefly, then her son walked to the back room of the apartment.  Chanda looked at Eddie and said sievphow.  By now, Eddie knew that meant book.  He handed her the dictionary.  While her son got dressed, she communicated with Major Anthony, one word at a time.

 

Utey knew more than one crew that did not mind carrying black market goods.  Weapons, drugs, and even illegally hunted animals floated up and down the Mekong along with the legal trade.  Sometimes, the boats carried people who had a reason to fly under the radar.  Eddie’s luck continued to hold out. 

 

War is big business.  The French had impaled their young on the punji stick of Vietnam for almost a decade.  That was the First Indochina War, from 1946-1954.  After a brief lull, American involvement in the conflict began to heat up in the early 1960s.  By 1967, the Second Indochina War, known in America as the Vietnam War, had been raging for years. 

 

The net result was, Vietnam consumed a lot of coffins.  Some of them were made in Cambodia, in a factory north of Krong Kracheh.  A medium sized boat on the Mekong could carry a dozen or more coffins, stacked high on its deck.  An empty coffin takes up a lot of space.  Enterprising captains, particularly ones smart enough to know who to bribe, made extra money by transporting illegal goods inside the spacious wooden boxes.

 

According to Utey, a man named Kou made regular trips on the Mekong.  Sometimes all the way to Can Tho.  Utey knew he was a smuggler, and with or without coffins, he would find a way to hide Major Anthony, for the right price.

 

It was much easier to slouch down in Utey’s truck.  Eddie started to think his crazy scheme might work.  But hurdles remained.  The next would be assessing whether he could trust a stranger named Kou.

 

In a few minutes they were at the docks.  It was still dark, but the place was busy.  Fishermen were getting ready to launch.  People carried crates and sacks of goods between trucks and the rows of docked boats.  Eddie knew which boat was his when he saw the coffins.

 

He stayed in the truck while Utey and Chanda spoke to the man.  After a short conversation, Kou walked up and motioned for Eddie to get out.  Kou looked him up and down, then rubbed his fingers together in a universally understood gesture.  He wanted to see the money.

 

First, Eddie handed Chanda the rest of her pay.  She had done her part.  Then he opened the wallet to show Kou the remaining bills.  Eddie pulled half of the money out, and handed it to the man.  He pointed downriver, and said Can Tho in Vietnamese.   Then pointed at the rest of the money in the wallet.  Kou nodded.

 

There was nothing to be gained by standing around.  Eddie shook hands with Utey, and reached out to shake Chanda’s hand.  Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.  For the second time, Eddie wished he wasn’t in such a hurry.