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Fourth Uncle In The Mountain Essay

It didn't matter that I'd not know the Thai language. I no longer wanted to speak to anyone. I never had. Three days later, the motor conked out. No gas. We floated south in the current, or so we thought. All the mountains and land had vanished. Thanh said he had made a mistake and didn't know where we were now. Once in a while we would see a ship, but we could never row to it. We didn't think we should. That was the same day our fresh water ran out. The smell of salt was unbearable afterwards. All of us knew that we should have been on the Thai island by now. We rowed desperately, but this made us thirsty. One of the women passed out from dehydration. Then another. And another. It was probably two days, I couldn't tell, when I saw the grim image. A black woman, as beautiful as the pearl goddess Vin, surfing in the wave crests. She was hissing melodically, and smiling, circling the drifting boat. I was going in and out of unconsciousness, rocking with the waves. She told me to prepare a spell for everyone. I knew what that meant. With the little strength left, I laughed in her face. My stomach was cramping up already. I felt a little insane. She vanished as our greatest fear emerged from the horizon.

As I propped myself up for one last view of the sea, I heard an engine. I turned and saw a small speck coming. When the boat arrived, three of us were already dead. Two were freshly shot as they beckoned to the boat. One had died of thirst. Thanh and I were the only ones left conscious. He raised...

One of the pirates leaning over the hull railing, shot him in the chest. Gritting past my horror, I wondered what they cared about. We had nothing to steal. What senseless killing. I thought I'd fled the land to be free of this sickness, but somehow it had followed me into the ocean. I could not walk barefoot on the ocean to heal people, could I? A different pirate, greasy, chewing beetle nut in a red mouth, looked at me. I stood up, my arms out like a cross. He yelled something to his partner. I would walk on water. I would heal. I stepped over the side and began to sink.
They told me I was so light that the ocean wouldn't take me. My bony skeleton could have been a model for medical students. It wasn't hard for them to fish me out of the water. When they saw the medicine books in my pocket, they spared my life. It was superstition.

I spent two months on their uncharted island with them. They kept me alive merely for amusement. Sometimes I made herbal potions and bandaged wounds. I performed acupuncture on their leader, a reckless Cambodian warlord. This was my new servitude.

When the Thai coast guard finally stormed the beach, they found me in an underground room behind a rattan gate. I was not chained to anything. Still it was hard to walk. The Thai interpreter said I was screaming two words, "Mai" and "freedom," and pointing to the shape of a mountain. It was a short boat trip from there to the refugee camp.

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