Elephant Run: Part Two

The first two months of his captivity, he expected the British to march onto the plantation and rout the Japanese.

Sonji told Nick he had been sent to an internment camp for British prisoners of war in Singapore.

And yet, there were still some who were sympathetic to the Japanese.
The most ardent sympathizer was Bukong.

When he got out of the hospital, Nick's father had given him the position of head houseman—a coveted and powerful position on the plantation—but Bukong never forgave Hannibal or Nick's father.

He rushed out into the garden, wielding his cane.

When he was well enough, he had to apologize to the Colonel by kowtowing to him in front of the entire house staff and several soldiers.

Everyone gathered in the entryway to witness the humiliating spectacle.

Nick had prostrated himself outside the library door. When the Colonel stepped out, Nick begged him for mercy and forgiveness for several minutes until the Colonel turned on his heels and walked back into the library.

In the natshin, sitting among the offerings of incense, bits of food, and shiny stones, was a folded square of powder-blue paper.

Bukong looked as if he were going to say no, but nodded his assent.

During her time at Hawk's Nest, Mya had seen Bukong use his cane liberally on the other servants, but he had never used it on her.

Mya was so distraught over Kin-Kin she didn't even argue.

Two or three times a month he raided Nick's room, looking for contraband, which was anything Bukong hadn't authorized Nick to have.

Aside from the sanitary conditions (which were abysmal) and disease, our biggest problem was lack of food.

A good part of my day (everyone's day, actually) was spent trying to procure enough food to stay alive.

The walls were insulated with the same type of bark the mahouts used to pad their elephants' backs.

A huge iron box protruded from one of the walls.

He might have learned of Bukong's treachery.

A rivulet of water trickled down the middle of the floor, disappearing into the darkness.

The Colonel didn't like the view of his precious fish obscured.

Indaw may have thought the Japanese would accost his sister, but it turned out that the threat was much closer to home.

Off to the side of the hangar were barracks for the soldiers, pilots, and mechanics.

While Nick toiled in the Colonel's garden, the plantation had been transformed into a major Japanese stronghold.

The villagers started to make their way back down to the village, the soldiers dispersed and headed toward the barracks, and the Colonel got back into the black car and drove away.

Nick jumped and nearly dropped the wrench. He thought it was Bukong. Mya stifled a giggle.

"Four minutes," he said as she finished oiling the last bolt.
Instead of using the lead pipe as a hammer, she slipped it over the wrench handle, extending it by at least a foot. Lubrication and leverage.

"Four minutes," he said as she finished oiling the last bolt.
Instead of using the lead pipe as a hammer, she slipped it over the wrench handle, extending it by at least a foot. Lubrication and leverage.

He came into the room very quietly and stood next to Nick's bed with his cane raised, as if he were relishing the beating he was about to give.

"Perhaps if you had used this cane less frequently, the boy would not have been compelled to leave."

He bowed to the Colonel without so much as a glance at the ailing Bukong.

"The bunkers are filled to capacity with armaments," he reports. "We're using the hangar for the overflow, but it's a dangerous situation. If one of the pilots or mechanics drops a cigarette, the whole place could explode."

Most of the delays have been caused by rough terrain and prisoner disease...malaria, beriberi, malnutrition, tropical ulcers...but more prisoners are arriving every day to replace those who have died.

He wasn't going to welcome Nick home like the prodigal son.

He couldn't disclose where he was, but he said that he was fine and that he hoped to be home for Christmas or the New Year.

The Japanese are steadfast in their refusal to let these innocent noncombatants go home to their families.