It’s getting dark now. I must get back to my husband. Before leaving, I dig through my carrying basket, pull out the hidden pouch, and offer some money to Deh-ja. At first she doesn’t want to take it, but I insist.
“When—if—San-pa and I come this way again, may I visit?”
“Of course. And if you ever encounter Ci-do . . .” She juts her chin, and the light in her eyes fades.
“But we found each other,” I respond, wishing good omens for her. “Anything can happen.”
She walks me to the edge of the village. “Be careful,” she says before disappearing back into the jungle.
I find San-pa, sitting on the ground, sound asleep, his head resting on his folded arms. I have a hard time waking him. He slowly nods at me, trying to bring me into focus, as if he’s still dreaming. No. I understand now. He’s found someone to sell him opium as anyone suffering from grief might seek out my a-ma for the same dulling remedy. I don’t need to question him about it. To my eyes, he’s far more upset about Yan-yeh and the whole turn of events than I could have imagined. I love him for that, and I understand his need to numb his sorrow. I’ve had months to try to accept the loss of our daughter. He’s had days. Later, after we’ve made camp, I reach out to him. I don’t enjoy the intercourse, but it’s something I must do to quiet my emptiness and help my husband too. Bring me a baby. Let it be a son.
The next morning, we continue south. We ford what San-pa says is the Nam Loi River. He tells me we’ve gone too far east when we reach the Mekong River. We work our way back into the dense greenery, staying out of sight, but keeping the river to our right. The border into Thailand? I don’t know when we reach it. I don’t know when we cross it. We’re on just another trail snaking through the creeping vines and densely growing trees as wild animals call their indignation at our presence.
On the last day of our journey, we begin to encounter other travelers. I can’t identify the dress or language of the tribal people; and I really don’t understand the language or ways of the native Thai. At one point, San-pa, who’s walked ahead of me the entire way, abruptly stops. He’s always been a good hunter and he cocks his head, listening intently to the jungle sounds. When he sniffs the air, I’m instantly petrified. Has he caught the scent of a tiger? He turns to me, his eyes sharp, his jaw tight.
“Run!”
I bound off the path and up a steep slope. San-pa catches me, pulls me up the hill with him, and yanks me down to hide in the undergrowth. I try to swallow my panting breaths, knowing that tigers are the greatest hunters of all with their sensitive ears. But no tiger would make this much noise stalking through the jungle. Soon a group of men, talking in subdued voices, tramp down the path. Next to me, San-pa crouches, one hand pressing down on my shoulder, keeping me hidden, the other holding his knife, blade out, ready to defend me. The men cannot be hill people or they would have noticed our fresh footprints. Only when the sounds from the caravan subside does San-pa loosen his grip on me. As he does, my body rises just a little—released—and I peer down the trail to see the last of a chain of men dressed in military fatigues, some carrying baskets on their shoulders, others swinging machine guns from left to right.
“I know them,” my husband whispers, his voice rough. “You are not allowed to go anywhere near those people. You understand?”
Roger Siegel, M.D.
Mattel Children’s Hospital UCLA August 5, 1996
Sheldon Katz, M.D.
800 Fairmount Ave.
Pasadena, CA 91105
RE: HALEY DAVIS
Dear Sheldon,
Thank you again for referring the above named patient, estimated DOB 11/24/95. Records indicate that she has now been my patient since 4/20/96. To review: Family medical history is limited, as we have no prenatal or delivery information from the birth mother. The adoptive parents, Constance and Dan Davis, went through IVF and IUI, with no success. Father is an arborist, whose clients include Caltech, the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens, as well as estates around Southern California. Mother is a professor of biology at Caltech. They reside at 2424 Hummingbird Lane in Pasadena. Parents chose adoption from China to minimize the risk of birth parents showing up and asking for their daughter back. Parents were told there were two hundred couples ahead of them on the China waiting list.
Parents took classes on adoption procedures and potential pitfalls. They gathered letters of reference, composed a personal essay, provided financial details and proof of employment. Parents were examined by their personal physicians, fingerprinted, and met with a county social worker on three occasions, where they detailed physical and mental health problems, thoughts about children, and their relationships to their respective parents (living and deceased), as well as past lovers. They chose Bright Beginnings as their adoption agency. They were told the patient would cost approximately $20,000, including travel expenses.
Parents received paperwork listing the baby as four months old. The adoption agency told Mother, “You get what China feels like giving you. There is no negotiating. No second chances. This one or none.” My initial examination on 4/20/96 suggested that patient was considerably younger than her reported age, as she weighed just ten pounds. As you know, patient presented as extremely malnourished and sick. She could not hold up her head or roll over by herself.
Parents were part of a group of six couples to pick up babies in Kunming, China. Parents came prepared with diapers, baby food and formula, energy bars, toys, clothing, and graham crackers. They were told to bring $5,000 in crisp $100 bills, of which $3,000 was given to the orphanage director as a cash donation. The babies were brought to a hotel and handed out “seemingly randomly.” Mother states she is unsure if she got “the right one.” Father describes all the babies as being filthy. Many had lice. (Patient did not.) Parents were instructed not to wash patient or clothes she came in, because familiar smells would be helpful for transition. This no doubt exacerbated patient’s impetigo and scabies.