The cow was backed up to Bandolla where he could touch her with his trunk. He laid his heavy tusks on her back, strained at the front ropes, trying to raise himself. His frustration caused him to ram the cow. She roared in pain.
The boys, seeing that he was ready, prepared to loosen the restraint. Tabul gave the signal. The boys slipped into the danger zone untying the ropes, watching the trunk and the kicking feet as they became loose.
But Bandolla was more interested in Seria. With his front legs loose, he raised himself onto the back of the female. Seria spread her hind legs to support the bull’s weight. As he moved up on her back his tusks reached her head.
The penis had searched and found the vulva. Insertion was imminent. He roared with energy, his eyes bloodred. Seria, with the weight of the bull, could only stand still and submit. Bandolla stretched his trunk forward to the cow’s head. She responded and met him with her trunk. As the delicate tips of their trunks met, the orgasm erupted.
Once it was over, the boys quickly tethered Bandolla’s legs. Bandolla took a couple of swings at them, but only halfheartedly. His energy was drained.
It had all taken a matter of moments. The boys were done, exhausted. They headed back toward the vats with the special detergent. They resembled slimy eels as their bodies slid into the tank from all sides. The tension eased as the stories and laughter began. Things were in hand. The beast was tethered and all was safe once again.
Kalli Gooma had listened and was now preparing to leave. “Bram”—this was the first time he had used his name—“when the time comes, you will make a good mahout. When the time comes.” His voice drifted off as he headed down the path and he was gone.
Bram lay awake that night thinking of what Kalli Gooma had said. In the months to follow, Bram would be called upon to assist Tabul in many breedings.
28
BRAM AWOKE TO A LOUD COMMOTION. The early morning sun had not yet appeared, leaving the lush greens of the forest in shades of gray. The voices of many could be heard yelling, shouting obscenities. Quickly dressing, Bram raced down to the melee.
A group of villagers had a man from another village by the arms. They were moving him at a fast pace to the headman’s house. Ja, among them, carried a bloody panga. Everybody was talking at once. Singh was standing on the veranda as they approached.
“What is the problem?” Singh said, trying to be heard over the din.
Ja spoke up. “This man was caught in the act of killing his wife, Mira.”
The crowd was becoming angrier. Singh raised his hand for quiet. The crowd lowered their voices.
“Is this true?” he asked the accused.
The man smelled of liquor and had trouble keeping his balance. He lowered his head; his sobs could be heard. “She was leaving me. What had I done that she would do this? I didn’t mean…”
“Ja, take him to the hold. Notify his village elders. Have them meet me in my office about…ten! We will discuss the case at that time.”
As the crowd dispersed, Bram heard someone say that the man was a mahout by the name of Kim.
That night candles were lit at every house. Some villagers went to the temple and prayed to their Maker. All were talking about the horrible tragedy. As the evening wore on, visitors from other villages were given huts to sleep in so they could stay the night.
Bram and Sian huddled on the veranda late into the evening, talking of things that they had never experienced or known about.
Morning.
The elephants were not to work this day. Everybody waited anxiously around the huge teak tree in the middle of the village. It was called the Rumor Tree. Nothing was fact until it was done, it was only rumored to be so. Not only rumors were posted.
Placards were posted there. Notes were hung. It was the meeting place. All gossip, rumors, and stories either began there or ended there. All things were spoken of. This was where dirty laundry was verbally washed and held in the air for all to see. This is where the decision of the elders would be heard.
Guilty! It appeared on a large palm-paper leaflet tied to a peg that had been pounded into the bark.
Everybody had known what the results would be. Some hoped for a miracle, but most were prepared for the outcome. The execution was to be within the week.
Preparation was obvious throughout the village. Mourning clothes were made or repaired. Flowers were cut, arrangements made. Special prayers were offered in the temple.
Bram hadn’t seen Kalli Gooma for most of the week. Bram was told he was overseeing the site where the execution was to take place.
It wasn’t until the end of the week that he arrived in the village. He beckoned to Bram.
“There were two places Sian did not take you. One you have already experienced, and now it is time for the other. Tomorrow the execution will take place. I would like you to accompany me to the Cross-Over.” Bram assumed that meant the place where Kim would be put to death. “It had not been used for a long time, and it took time to put things right,” he volunteered.
Kalli Gooma and Bram were well into the mountains before the sun had spilled its molten heat on the ridge. A small sliver of a trail wound its way up the steep valley. A river of pure icy spring water coursed its way down the middle. As they rounded a corner, Bram noticed another river had come from out of the forest and was running parallel to the first river—only flowing in the opposite direction!
They followed the path between the two streams until they came to a heavily wooded thicket. Huge boulders stood sentry as they entered what appeared to be a smallish amphitheater. Once inside, Bram saw that the two streams were, in fact, one. At the curve of the stream, where one flowed into the other, a fury of white water gamboled over round, smooth rocks. The yin and the yang. One was needed to allow the other to be.
“This is the Cross-Over,” Kalli Gooma said.
Just ahead was an escarpment that projected out from the mountain. It was as if an eruption had taken place many years ago and the earth had pushed itself out and away from the mountain.
Kalli Gooma and Bram stood at its base. It appeared to be about twenty feet high but not more than fifteen feet wide at the top, maybe thirty feet long. A wood and stone staircase ran up the front. The men climbed the staircase, and upon reaching the top, Bram found it was quite flat. He could see the entire Cross-Over from there.
At the back of the “mound” grew a large teak; its branches covered a good portion of the area. There had been another tree, quite large. Its stump was at the front of the mound. Bram studied the stump. It was polished to a fault. Many hands must have worked long hours doing such a job. Bram noticed two concave shallow indentations chiseled out of the stump. From the rumors in the village, Bram knew what these were for.
He let his fingers idle over the shallows. Both were close to the front edge of the stump, easily accessible to anyone approaching by the stairs.
The first one was intricate. It was directly in front, oval in shape and perhaps four inches deep, and molded to hold a human head sideways. A larger indented circle was chiseled around the oval. The second indentation was off to the side. It was round, about six inches deep, and the same size as the indented circle. It was the footprint of the front left foot of an elephant!
There was a strong pungent odor in the air, one Bram knew well. Looking up, Bram saw a large female elephant coming out of the forest from behind a teak. A man in a black sarong carrying a gold choon walked by her side. A purple cape was draped over the back of the elephant. Across her forehead hung a black facepiece that had slits for her eyes. On her front left foot was a silver bracelet made of many symbolic amulets, which jangled when she moved. Later Bram was to find out that the left foot was the single one entrance into the new world. The right foot was the exit. The bangles on the left foot were bright and sparkling, and all the engravings were of happiness and health and prosperity.
On the right foot was a solid brass anklet ring. Black onyx swirled through it. This bracelet did not
jangle or make any noise. The symbolic etchings cut into the brass were of the demons and represented all things that lived in the place before life and after death.
The elephant’s name was Keesha. The mahout greeted Kalli Gooma with a respectful bow. To Bram he gave an eye acknowledgment. Then, moving to the front stump, he commanded Keesha to hold steady.
The Cross-Over was ready.
A long procession of villagers had wound its way up the trail. In front was Singh, then Ja, followed by the elders. Just behind them two men were holding on to Kim. He seemed to be in a drugged state, as the men were supporting him from falling rather than concerned he might escape. Behind followed the men of Kim’s family, and the mahouts. No women were allowed to see the procession. A banging of drums had followed them up the mountain and continued their rhythmic beat. The drummers alternated, emitting a barely audible high-pitched note that didn’t fluctuate. As one ended his note, the other blended in so that the effort was one long monotonous note.
“These proceedings are always held in the morning. If they were at night, he would not be able to see his way into the next world. The accused is given a mixture that relaxes the body but not the mind. This way, he is easily controlled but his mind is not altered. It is important that he knows…”
As they entered the Cross-Over, Kalli Gooma met and escorted them to their positions. Singh stood on the left of Kim and Kim’s father stood on the right. The two men continued to assist Kim. Kim looked up to see Keesha standing above him. His knees gave way and he collapsed.
Kim’s father, tears streaming down his face, helped the two men to right his son. Kalli Gooma brought out a heavy leather full-headed mask and with the help from the others, put it over Kim’s head. The mask was thick and peaked at the top. It was larger than Kim’s head.
The crease in the leather was brought to a fold at both the back and the front, making the head appear flat. The neck area was lastly wrapped in a thick burlap material with caution so as not to cut off his breathing. Two large buckles fastened to keep it in place. The flat look was to be of some advantage at a later time. The only openings were two large apertures at the nostrils. The single note sung by the drummers had changed to a deeper note as the two men supported Kim up the stairs. The father whispered something into the mask. If Kim answered, no one would have heard his reply through the thick leather. Kalli Gooma followed the men up the stairs. A body motion from him, and Bram followed. Upon reaching the top, the men tied Kim’s hands together at the back. His feet were also tied.
On a signal from Kalli Gooma, the mahout stepped forward with Keesha. She placed her left foot into the proper indentation. The other straddled the second shallow. Kim was gently laid down with his head resting sideways in the concave. Bram now saw why the mask was cut to allow there to be more comfort in that position. It also made it difficult for Kim to move his head.
There had been no noise from Kim since he had entered the Cross-Over. But once he felt the men’s hands leave his body, a muffled cry was heard. Kalli Gooma nodded to the mahout. Keesha’s right foot was raised to its highest position. And then Bram heard Kim. A loud cry of anguish. A cry from a faraway small room sounded and the foot fell! The earth shook. The head mask filled. The body quivered. The drummers’ note became deep and low.
Kalli Gooma looked up to the sky. “It is a good day,” he said, and they headed back down to the village.
29
BRAM AND SIAN WERE TO BE MARRIED! It said so in flower garnets strung together on a large oil-polished palm leaf and pegged to the Rumor Tree. It had been some time since Kim’s execution. The village was back to working the forest. They had started cutting in a new area. The trees were much larger than before and the men had been coming home exhausted from their duties. But they had also earned extra money. Bram thought this would be the perfect time to celebrate with a marriage, and there were other things that spoke to him of the marriage.
Sian had come to see Bram after a sweaty day in the forest. He was taking his shower in a hut with no roof. A bucket of water was suspended by ropes above him. When pulled, the bucket tilted and poured its contents on him. He had just soaped and scrubbed his body thoroughly with a eucalyptus leaf brush. He learned the hard way to soap first, then flush with the water. The first time he cautiously had to leave the shower to fetch more water quickly before anyone saw. Bram’s eyes were closed. The water felt good and the brush made his skin tingle. While trying to get some soap out of his eyes, he felt his back being gently brushed. A smile crossed his face. Sian! She had always been shy but lately had been more provocative, flirting.
Still squinting from the soap, he turned. Sian stood just out of range of the water. She wore a mischievous grin as she slowly kept brushing. She kept her head up but couldn’t resist an occasional look down. Bram grasped her arm, pulled her to him, and grabbing the rope, pulled it hard. A deluge of water cascaded down and drenched them. Sian, embarrassed, laughed, and they hugged each other tightly, kissing and touching. Their bodies were soaked, her sarong was tight to her skin, and she felt his sexual pulse. Bram knew then, it was time.
The wedding was to be the following Saturday. Sian’s mother wove a special wedding dress for her and had a handsome white sarong with matching turquoise shirt for Bram. The whole village turned out for the event. Flowers were cut and adorned the huts, walkways, trees, even the elephant quarters. Stalks of bananas hung from the huts. Fresh mangoes, coconuts, tree tomatoes, sweet berries, pawpaw, all were nestled in nests of flowers.
Kalli Gooma had declined for “spiritual reasons” so Singh stood with Bram as Sian’s father was to stand for her. On the morning of the wedding, ten of Bram’s mahout friends arrived at Bram’s hut to accompany him to the temple. They were dressed in their best clothes. Sian’s father gave a round of his special strong, enriched coconut juice. A quick toss down and they were off, along the trail that would lead Bram to a new existence of emotions and family ties.
Sian’s family walked the path together. Her father came first, walking proud, a smile of well-being fixed across his face. Her brothers followed. The females of the family came next, busily straightening her dress, combing her hair.
She was radiant. Her dress was of fine woven white and orange Indian silk. The fit of the dress emphasized her small yet curvaceous frame. Her natural tan skin and dark eyes were framed by her long, fine, silken hair that was as light as the breezes that caressed it. A red choker made of polished traded beads hugged her neck. She was beautiful, a girl in full blossom.
Melodious music filled the air. The village was alive with the warmth and happiness that only a marriage can bring.
Every village in the region was invited, most of the citizens came. The wedding was wonderfully simple. Their vows were their own. They spoke of the forest mountains and the cool streams, of the great teak, of the elephants, and of the golden thread that holds it all together. They spoke of the yin and yang being present in all things. The ring was of gold and silver thread, one strand wound around the other.
Kalli Gooma had arranged for the couple to exit the temple by walking through a corridor of elephants lined on both sides! And they all wore flower leis! Modoc stood at the end of the line, loaded with their packed bags, ready to whisk them off to a special place by the lake where they had first met.
The trio headed across the center of the village past the Rumor Tree and into the forest. The children ran alongside, throwing flowers and green leaves. The last that was seen of them was Modoc’s buttocks, her tail swishing to and fro, throwing flowers from the long garland of roses and carnations that was tied to it.
With the passing of the years, the village prospered. Bram sent many letters home, knowing that it was risky, and still never revealed his whereabouts. Bram and Sian had agreed to wait to have a child. It was important for him first to have security, a proper home, and money to last in case of emergency. He was too proud to take money from his new relatives. It was important that he do it on his own to
show Sian’s parents their daughter had married a man of quality.
On a day filled with sunshine, when the two young marrieds were enjoying their life together at a gathering of Sian’s family, a passing traveler brought news and rumors that a guerrilla war had broken out fifty miles north of the mountains that housed the teak. The nearest town had heard scattered news about small groups that had invaded various areas, but nothing of note ever followed. There had been fighting on the border. The country’s army had fought for a number of years and finally broken through the main artery, sending the remaining rebels scattering throughout the vast region.
The village council had been meeting once a week for the last four months to discuss and keep abreast of the situation. They had set up a security program whereby men were stationed at intervals from the village down to the nearest town, a distance of ten miles. A small battery-operated telephone system set up at two-mile intervals relayed any messages…but there had been no occurrences.
“Captain Rajah Mohinder, commander of the Eastern Division, has arrived with his escort and is coming up to see Mr. Singh.” The voice was that of Mapur Punda, stationed in the town below.
The jeep, using its four-wheel ability, arrived an hour later in the center of the village. Captain Rajah Mohinder and three army soldiers armed with rifles left the vehicle and headed briskly in the direction of the main office building.
“Captain Mohinder, good of you to come,” said Singh as he stepped forward to shake hands.
The captain shook hands and introduced his comrades, who then sat in a rather unprofessional way on the couch.
The captain cleared his throat and spoke with authority. “Mr. Singh, there has been no enemy activity in some time.”
“Yes, it has been very quiet,” Singh agreed.