Geistergrab einer buddhistischen Pagode

Kapitel 50

As compensation for the translator's death, his son was sent to a British-run school. The boy later returned to his alma mater and became its first Lanna headmaster. It was a top-tier school in British Lanna, and the headmaster was very proud of the school's cricket team. One day, the team accepted an invitation to play against an English school.

The foreigners sat in the shaded seats, while the Lanna people sat in the sun. It was an unusually hot day, and when the Lanna team won the game, the principal yelled, "Huzzah! Huzzah!" and then collapsed and died. It seemed like heatstroke, but Walter's great-grandfather didn't say that; judging from his last words, he died of the joy of speaking English.

The principal's son also found a job in education, teaching at a church school where missionaries had settled in Lanna after the Japanese were driven out. He met a Lanna nurse with bright, large eyes who also spoke fluent English. She had been raised by an English couple who had accidentally run over her parents, who were servants of the English couple, in their car.

Later, this nurse became Walter's grandmother.

Walter's grandmother's death was also shrouded in mystery. She and three missionaries arrived at a village, and their car overturned into a ravine. Walter's grandmother was the only victim—some say she was taken away by the spirits of her parents. Otherwise, how could you explain the deaths of the entire family of three in a car accident?

The nurse left behind her husband, three sons, and a daughter. Walter's father, the eldest son, was a journalist and university professor. Walter remembered his father being very strict about grammar; when explaining the correct usage of "good" and "well," he often said, "While it is good to speak well, it is better to speak the truth."

Walter's father valued the facts more than his own life. Ten years earlier, he had been arrested while participating in a movement against the King.

Shortly afterward, a man who had been released from prison told Walter that his father had been beaten to death in prison.

Young Walter, along with his siblings and widowed mother, moves to their grandfather's house, which falls apart. The grandfather believes that English is the culprit behind these disasters—his wife is one of the victims.

He forbade his daughter-in-law and grandchildren from speaking English. Original English versions of works by Thomas Hardy, Jane Austen, and other literary figures were removed, and shrines to the gods replaced these books on his desk.

However, Walter's mother refused to give up on English. She hadn't grown up in an English-speaking environment; as a child, she had worked hard to learn pronunciation by rolling her tongue and passed various tests. Later, by listening to her husband speak, her pronunciation improved, and soon she had an accent as pure as a child taught by a British teacher.

For her, mastering a language was a source of spiritual joy, like playing a musical instrument. Her most intimate and private memories of her husband were of that language. She locked away and carefully preserved all the books and magazines her father-in-law had thrown away.

For the past decade, Walter's mother and grandfather did not speak to each other, communicating only through Walter. He spoke Lanna to his grandfather and English to his mother. This was excellent practice for his career as a tour guide, which requires him to switch fluently between two languages.

But sometimes Walter is surprised by the devastation English has brought to his family. Will he be next? How will the tragedy unfold? When will it happen? Two years from now, or two days from now?

Levels

At four o'clock in the afternoon, the bus stopped again.

My friends woke up and stretched in the car. Walter stood up and said, "We've reached another checkpoint, and we'll be here for about half an hour. For safety's sake, please stay in the car and don't take any pictures."

For safety reasons? This phrase makes my friends feel very unsafe.

Walter picked up the bag full of passports, got out of the car, and walked towards the sentry post. Fully armed soldiers opened the cargo bed and removed the suitcases from the roof for inspection.

Several soldiers stabbed open a foam sofa, which was wrapped in plastic. As the ropes were cut, the sofa burst open. The soldiers pulled back the cushions and reached inside to feel around. Seeing this, the tourists were tense and didn't dare breathe.

One soldier ordered people to get out of the vehicle, and while everyone obeyed in the chaos, another soldier told them to stay inside and not leave. The soldiers entered the vehicle, patted the seat cushions and floor mats, lifted the back seats, removed the mats, and carefully opened the side panels of the doors.

It looked like they were going to kill the tourists, and Heidi was so terrified she was about to cry. Suddenly, an officer signaled that everything was alright and the tour group could pass through the checkpoint.

The driver quickly started the car. Now, my friends saw the sign at the checkpoint, written in Chinese, Lanna, Thai, and English: "Drug smuggling, a dead end."

My friends started racking their brains, wondering if they had inadvertently brought any contraband in. Wyatt thought of the wool vest—had they searched all the pockets? Including the secret inner pockets? Could there be forgotten marijuana inside?

Benny thought about his bottles filled with various medications, including emergency medicines and some painkillers. Could these medications be related to heroin? Would this constitute drug smuggling, and could he be arrested and executed?