The Clay Marble by Minfong Ho

Author:Minfong Ho [Minfong Ho]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Young Adult, War, Childrens
ISBN: 9780374412296
Amazon: 0374412294
Goodreads: 837316
Published: 1991-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

The path wound through the edge of the Nong Chan plain and into the forest behind it. Everyone seemed to know where Kung Silor’s camp was, so asking for directions was no problem, especially when we met up with some newly recruited soldiers who were on the way to the base camp themselves.

Still, it was a long walk. My bare feet, which had been sore from all the walking the day before, were tougher now. Perhaps they would soon be like Chnay’s, I thought, so thick and callused that they wouldn’t feel anything. For now, though, I still missed my sandals.

Just as I was about to suggest a rest, I noticed that the thickets of trees and bamboo groves had thinned out, and in the distance there was a clearing.

We could hear the sound of men singing, and cautiously we made our way closer. From behind some thick bushes we watched as rows of men, all carrying rifles, marched across the square of tamped-down earth. Following the loud commands of an officer, they paced up and down, sharply turning left or right at his every order. Then they lined up in the center of the square and faced the flagpole there. Starkly silhouetted against the twilight sky was the blue-and-white Khmer Serei flag. At a signal, they all saluted the flag, and started singing a strident song with words like “liberation” and “freedom” mixed with “blood” and “death.”

“That’s the national anthem for the Khmer Serei,” Chnay whispered in my ear.

“Well, I don’t like it,” I whispered back. Perhaps it was the lengthening shadows, or the presence of all those soldiers bristling with weapons, but I felt uneasy and scared.

Chnay led the way down a path that veered off from the square farther into the camp. We paused at a narrow wooden bridge that spanned a deep trench stretching along one side of the square. There were bamboo spikes on the bottom of the trench. I shivered.

“What do we do now? Do we start looking for my family?” I asked.

Chnay seemed uncertain and subdued. “I’m not sure,” he said.

I looked around at the gathering dusk with deep misgivings. What were we doing in the middle of the dark forest, I wondered, with nowhere to go and nothing to eat?

As if sensing my thoughts, Chnay pointed to an abandoned lean-to with torn thatching for a roof and suggested that we sleep there. Without waiting for my answer, he crawled into the shelter and curled up in the corner. As I hesitated outside, he beckoned me in impatiently. “Get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll look for your family tomorrow.”

We? So Chnay was going to help me look for my family? I realized then that I had made a friend, and quietly crept under the thatching and lay down next to Chnay.

I spent a restless night, tossing about listening to the torn thatching flapping in the wind. The forest sounded strange and scary, alive with the grunts and shuffling of mysterious animals. I scrunched up into a small ball and waited for the morning.

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