They was both zombies when they walked out of the guesthouse in the morning. It wasn't with what you'd call confidence that they got on the ferry to cross the river to Laos. Waldo didn't believe for a second the airplane from the States wouldn't fly, but he was convinced this lump of old tin wouldn't float. It was jam packed with vehicles and crates and almost the entire population of Southeast Asia. It was sitting so low on the water he got a sideways view of fish swimming past.
There was no sign of Wilbur and they kind of missed him. He'd said if you looked like you knew what you was doing on the Lao side, no one would stop you and ask to see your papers. As they didn't have none, that would of been a good thing. But talking about it and doing it, wasn't the same.
The ferry crashed into Laos like it wasn't expecting it to be there. Waldo sprawled on top of a herd of pigs. They was real pissed about it. Him and Saifon had split up. She blended in with the market traders and the day trippers.
He held himself up to his full height and marched past two ragged guys at the immigration post. He nodded at them and they nodded back. They didn't even ask to look at his passport. They was probably postmen or something.
When he found Saifon at the busy day market, she'd already gotten directions to the address Mrs. Porn had give her. It was an auberge, and that's French for a small hotel that's seen better days.
They thought they was gonna have to do a lot of explaining but it seems they was expected. The owner was all over their bags and showing 'em to their rooms and feeding 'em up before they got a chance to say nothing. They sure was honored guests. No doubt about that.
-o-
But that little French building was a creaker all right. When Waldo was upstairs walking around you could hear the rafters and boards groan clear to Vientiane. The owners obviously didn't have the money to fix the busted staircase, or re-hang the non-fitting doors, or do something about the window slats that didn’t open or close.
Truth was, they hadn't seen more than a dozen paying customers there for the past year. The yanks had places of their own. The French was long gone. The Laos sure didn't have the money to stay in an auberge. But for some reason, they didn’t seem to be trying too hard to attract custom. They just sat around.
When you go visit someone that ain't got much, and they give you half of what they ain't got much off, it makes you feel real special. But it can make you feel uncomfortable too. The larder out back of the kitchen wasn't no better stocked than a bus shelter. If you wanted food you had to tell the owner the day before and he'd go looking for it. As Waldo and Saifon was honored guests, they wasn't allowed to pay for nothing. The rooms was free and the food was, "taken care of".
The old couple that ran the place, Mr. Mrs. Wongdeuan, fought like billyo when the guests tried to force money on 'em. They would of starved to death sooner than accept a single kip, and a kip couldn't of bought you the leg of a snail in them days.
So it was, to try to keep the housekeeping bill down to a minimum, Saifon had to invent lunch and dinner engagements. Her and Waldo would waltz off like they had an appointment and sneak over to the ferry port where they'd eat at the bamboo stands that catered for the day-trippers. They put up with the flies and the smells to be kind. They thought they was being smart too, but in a little town like Savannakhet everyone knew what strangers was doing. There weren't a lot else to do there. The Wongdeuans assumed Waldo and Saifon didn’t like the way they cooked.
-o-
Now, I gotta say, that little old auberge was a bit of a mystery. As far as Waldo could see, him and Saifon was the only two guests staying there. But on more than a few occasions he'd seen travelers arrive at the door and get turned away. There was always a whole lot of folks there in the daytime, whispering and looking jumpy. But at night it was quiet as a goldfish bowl.
Now it turned out that Mrs. Porn and the quiet guy had something or other to do with the Pathet Lao, the PL for short. This here auberge was one of their, what you call, candlestine bases. 'Cept there weren't much candlestine about it. Most people knew what was going on there. They could'a gotten bombed any time. But Saifon and Waldo didn't know nothing about that till later.
-o-
Waldo's enforced diet was important in a way I ain't mentioned yet. I guess it saw the start of a change in him. With the lack of food and all the sweating he was doing, Waldo noticed that his weight was falling off him like snow off a tree. It weren't a pretty sight but he'd took to standing in front of the big cracked mirror in the bathroom and looking at himself naked. It wasn't immediately obvious to no-one else, but Waldo could tell there was a lot less of him than what he'd brought over from the States the month before.
"What you doing in there, Waldo?"
"Doing?
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm looking at myself naked in the mirror."
"Oooh. That's disgusting. Why did I ask? I gotta teach you to lie, man. Listen. Wongdeuan got me a car with a driver. I'm going off to look for the old witch."
"Great. Hang on. I'll get dressed."
"Waldo, you ain't coming."
"Sure I am. I ain't letting my daughter go off alone into the jungle."
"No. I mean you can't come. The driver said we're heading off through territory where you're the enemy. And as I ain't yet thought of a disguise that'll stop you looking like you look, I sure ain't about to get myself shot just so's I can have me some company."
"Well "
"Nothing we can do about it, Waldo. So you just keep looking at whatever it is you're looking at, and I'll see you when I get back."
"Well …"