Reclamation

CHAPTER FOUR-1

CHAPTER FOURJenna

June 26, 2007: Time Unknown

My body is shaking with pain. My eyes slowly open under the heaviness from the d**g-induced sleep and I see several other people lying on the floor around me. My shoulder is on fire, and when I move, pain shoots up my arm because my right hand is tied to a metal bar on the wall.

I look around in the dark, squinting, trying to find Mallory. I feel the sticky residue on my face from where the tape had covered my mouth. Then it hits me, the smell of urine, sweat, and mildew. My reaction is to gag, but then I hear a noise next to me, a whispering voice.

A young girl, also restrained, is crouched down next to me. As I turn toward her, she says something in a different language but with a tone of warning.

“Where am I?” I ask her. “What is this place? Were you in a blue van too?”

She shakes her head. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. Her face is dirty, and she seems frail and unstable. She has long, dark hair and is wearing torn jean shorts and a dirty T-shirt that has an anime figure on the front. Her tennis shoes are untied, and the tube socks are filthy around the lower part of her legs. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She doesn’t look local; maybe she’s a tourist too.

“Jenna,” I say as I place my unrestrained hand to my chest, taking the risk of sharing my name with her.

“Olivia,” she whispers after a long pause. It’s hard to tell, but she says her name in a thick but slight voice. She might be German. “Lastbil,” she says.

The word is familiar, but I don’t think it’s German. I try to remember my humanities class where we learned conversational German and several other European languages.

Then Olivia makes a motion with her free hand as if she is driving.

“Oh my god,” I gasp as I realize we’re inside the trailer of a delivery truck. But it isn’t moving. It’s so dark, it’s hard to tell. I can only see the outline of the other people.

“Mallory,” I say loudly. I hear moans and then several people shushing me, but Mallory doesn’t answer me.

The soreness in my body is overpowering, especially on my right side where my arm is restrained. I am groggy and shaky as if I drank too much. My mind is swarming with thoughts. How did this happen? Am I being kidn*pped? Why am I here? I’ve heard about women disappearing when traveling, like the Holloway girl from the US who visited Aruba. When we left for our trip a few weeks ago, I never imagined something like that would happen to us.

When I think back to this morning—my god, it was only this morning—my only worry was surviving the heat and the cramped hostels where we spent our nights. The hostel was much less extravagant than the resort. I remember feeling overwhelmed at the sight of my personal belongings spread out on the bed at the hostel we’d been staying at for the last couple days. It was the third place we stayed in the last few weeks, and each time I packed up, the piles of stuff seemed to multiply.

Two people had moved into the hostel the day before, so the room seemed much smaller. I found it difficult to sleep in a room with strangers and the time change between Everly Falls and Thailand had been hard to adjust to. Mallory didn’t seem to be affected by any of it. Maybe I was just feeling a bit homesick.

As I struggled to put most of my clothes in the space-saver bag and squish them down to compress everything, Mallory hopped up on the bunk above me. She used to hate sleeping on the top bunk when we were younger. She finally did it one time on a dare at a sleepover. She always used her fears and hesitation as fuel to face what scared her and to overcome it. I admired that about her.

“Well, off we go,” Mallory said with a smile. “I’m excited to see Chiang Mai. Do you still have that map?”

I unzipped the pocket on the outside of my backpack and pulled out the map my aunt gave to me at graduation. It showed all the roads and routes for the different types of transportation in Southeast Asia. Her neighbor traveled the area a few years ago and gave it to her when she told him about our upcoming trip.

Mallory unfolded it, and I could feel her looking at me even though she was trying to make it seem like she was looking at the map.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m feeling better.” I had felt queasy the night before. We both were trying to adjust to the heat in Thailand. I knew it was going to be hot, but I didn’t realize how intense it would be.

“I think it’s cooler in Chiang Mai. Thank god,” she said with another smile.

“Yes, thank god.”

We had flown into Bangkok and stayed the first two nights in a hotel. Then we took a shuttle to Pattaya and stayed in a resort on the beach for five days. The resort stay was a gift from Ryan’s parents to Mallory for graduation. Not only did it offer a beautiful landscape, but the rooms had air-conditioning. Ryan even flew in and joined us for the last three days, which made Mallory super happy.

Pattaya was tropical, such a contrast to Bangkok. The beaches were similar to those in the movies with tranquil, aqua waters on white-sand beaches. There were lush, green mountains wrapped around the beach areas.

It was serene and I was happy to be there, but it did remind me a lot of Hawaii, which made me think of Bash. I would never tell Mallory this because I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t over him, but I often wondered how he was doing.

Mallory and I joked about it being paradise. The other tourists we met were fun, and I started to really relax. Mallory had finally agreed to plan out our next few destinations with me. Some of the people we met recommended that we travel north and check out the more rural locations. When we left the resort, we took the shuttle back to Bangkok.

I let out a sigh as I zipped up my backpack and slipped on my shoes.

“Hey, do you want me to help you pack up?” I asked Mallory.

“Um, sure, if you want to.” She climbed down from the bed and grabbed her backpack from the floor. As she started putting her stuff in, she was looking around the room. “Damn it. I can’t find my headphones.” She climbed back up on the bunk.

I spotted them hanging out from under her pillow on the other side of the bunk. “Aha!” I grabbed her headphones and handed them to her.

“Thanks!” Mallory laughed and looked at me with a direct and sweet expression. “I’m so glad you’re here, Jenna.”

Mallory had a way of making me feel better. I think part of it was her ability to rally or persuade people and the other part was her evident love for the people who were important to her.

We took one more look around the room, and then stepped outside under the awning. The sun was intense, and sweat dripped down the middle of my back. Mallory and I walked toward the 7-Eleven we had been to the day before. It was easier to get a ride to Hua Lamphong, the train station, from there. I also wanted to get some postcards to write out on the long train ride.

At the counter, I tried to do the conversion of the baht in my head but ended up letting it slide. Every time we purchased something, it seemed impossible for it to be so inexpensive. After I paid for my postcards, I handed my backpack to Mallory and went to use the restroom. I lingered a bit, considering the purchase of an umbrella to provide some shade, and also to take advantage of the cool air in the 7-Eleven from the air-conditioning that was evident from the mechanical rattling throughout the store. I decided to forgo the umbrella. I saw many locals walking around with them, but I didn’t want to add more items to my backpack. When I returned, Mallory was sitting on a bench just outside the door talking with a woman. She didn’t look Thai.

“This is Ruth,” Mallory said. “She’s a teacher in Bangkok and said she has been to Chiang Mai several times.”

The woman smiled at me.

“Hi,” I said. “Do you like Chiang Mai?”

“Oh yes. It’s beautiful there,” Ruth replied. “I was telling your friend that you may want to travel by bus to save some money. There’s an overnight bus that will take you directly there.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. Mallory had a convinced look on her face, and I could tell she was entertaining the idea of taking a bus instead.

My shoulders tensed at the thought. I always stuck to a plan if there was one, but I was trying to be more flexible.

Mallory thanked the woman, and then we headed down the street.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked.

“It might be nice to have the day here in the city,” I said, pleased with my adventurous response.

“Cool.” She smiled. “We might even have time to go see Wat Suthat, the temple you mentioned wanting to see.”

The Wat Suthat temple was one of the oldest in Bangkok. It was the one with a large red swing in front.

“Well, let’s go over to the market and look at our map,” Mallory said, and we were off.

The streets in Bangkok were bustling, and we stopped at several shops, eventually making our way to a small café for lunch. At one point, I realized I wasn’t as overwhelmed by the heat as I had been earlier. This was a good sign. Maybe I was starting to acclimate.

The city was full of noises and activity. We weaved our way down the sidewalks, going around stands, people, and the occasional trash dumpster. In the streets, the tuk-tuks, scooters, buses, and regular vehicles all commingled, following some strangely understood pattern and rules of the street. We passed by small markets and groups of people gathered around food stands. The smell of grilled meat permeated through the salty air, settling my stomach until it rumbled with hunger. All throughout our walk, we encountered different smells of food, trash, exhaust, and incense.

As we passed by people, I smiled and tried to look friendly. I was surprised by the amount of eye contact or staring people did when they saw us. There was a difference in cultural norms, and I was very aware of being an outsider just by being white. People smiled, but it was different from the Midwestern hospitality or connection I was used to. With my hair stuffed up under a cap, I felt less self-conscious. From our first step off the plane at the airport, I could tell I would always be identified as a tourist. Mallory blended in a bit more with her dark hair and strong features, but I stuck out with my fair skin and unruly, blondish-red hair.

Rommaninat Park was beautiful with lush lawns, large statues, and vibrant fountains. It was much quieter in the park than on the street. There was a group of teenagers walking around, and we asked one of them take our photo next to an elephant statue.

Mallory and I finally made it to the temple and entered through an archway. The monk standing near the entrance nodded toward several signs on the wall. We weren’t properly dressed. After covering our sleeveless arms with scarves, pulling skirts over our shorts, and removing our shoes, we entered the temple and walked along the wall of golden Buddhas.

The building was serene and peaceful with the essence of sacredness, making it easy to relax and take in the Zen vibes around us. As we took our time walking through the structure, admiring the shiny, ornate walls, I noticed a lightness to our steps, a sense of etherealness.

We finally exited and took a moment to reassemble our attire, stuffing the scarves and skirts in our packs and putting our shoes back on. I pulled out my phone and realized we had lost track of time. Increasing our pace, we walked back toward the park.

“Do you think we should try to get a ride to the bus depot?” Mallory asked.

“Maybe,” I said, looking around for a taxi or tuk-tuk, but not seeing anything close by. We kept walking the way we had come, but we were going to have to find some mode of transportation sooner rather than later if we were going to get to the bus station for the overnight ride to Chiang Mai.