The house we took was of teak beams and bamboo. For a few gold coins I had its use, entire, with its mats, pots, kettles.
There was a little shilly-shallying of trade, which I did not get into. Traders came up and down and across. I didn’t care for traffic just then.
Nagy N’Yang was happy, she told me. I believed it. She went about her little household tasks neatly.
“After the big rains,” I told her, “we two take boat for Maulmain and beyond.” I was due for a trip up past Rangoon for temple brasses and carved ivory. The air was heavy with the promise of the first of the rains.
“Where you go, I go,” she laughed, stuffing my mouth with rice and fish.
She cuddled closer to me on the eating mat we had spread out.
A shadow fell across the open doorway. She screamed.
It was Pra Oom Bwaht, who smiled down on us with his twisty smile.
“Welcome,” I said.
He came in boldly and sat down.