I stood in front of Catherine and Mali for inspection on Monday morning, once more in my tired blue dress. Mali told me she had prayed at the temple earlier to bring me good luck at my job interview.
Bounmy had sent a note the evening before, saying he would come to escort me to meet his cousin at eleven o’clock.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t wear my new dress?” I asked for the second time.
Catherine tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my ear. “I think it’s too much for this type of business. You look lovely and professional in this.”
“I’m so nervous.”
“You are a special person, Mademoiselle Vivi,” Mali said. “They would be wise to hire you.”
Catherine pulled a piece of lint from my sleeve, appearing as unsettled about the interview as I was. “You are fortunate to have a friend like Prince Savang, but be careful about the circumstances of the job.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but before I could ask, I caught sight of Bounmy coming up the path. “Wish me luck.”
Catherine gave me a quick hug. “We’ll have a grand celebration tonight with Julian.” A wire from her brother had arrived late Sunday, informing her he should reach Vientiane the next day by early afternoon. She and Mali had risen at dawn to clean house, arrange his room, and plan a special meal.
Bounmy bowed and greeted Catherine, then turned to me. “Shall we go?” A pousse-pousse, a two-wheeled rickshaw, waited outside. “It’s not far, but I didn’t want you to get too warm or dusty.”
“How thoughtful,” I said. “Thank you.”
We squeezed into the seat, barely large enough for two people. The Lao porter, slightly built and little more than skin and bones, strained to drag our weight down the street. As we bounced along, I couldn’t avoid sliding into Bounmy, no matter how hard I tried to lean away. He smelled of sandalwood and coconut, and the warmth of his taut muscles touching my arms and legs set my heart galloping. I’d never been in such close proximity to a man before, and I had to concentrate to keep my breathing even.
Sleep had come in short fits the night before, as I woke numerous times and relived the afternoon with Bounmy and every word he had spoken. His kind eyes and concern for my problems had eased any doubts about his intentions. I wasn’t sure why he’d taken such an interest in me, but my instincts told me he could be trusted, even if Catherine remained more circumspect.
Bounmy smiled. “Don’t be nervous. Let me tell you a little about River Transport. My cousin Kham took over the business when his father died last year and is still learning how things work. He could benefit from someone giving him a fresh perspective on the operations. The office is such a mess, I don’t know how they can function.”
Hopefully his cousin would give me a chance despite my age and inexperience. “How many people work for him?”
“There are two accountants and a warehouse supervisor, and they hire day laborers to load and unload shipments. It’s the biggest transport company along the Mekong, as almost all foreign goods flow into Laos through Bangkok to Vientiane, then up or down the river. He has smaller offices in Luang Prabang, Savannakhet, and Pakse as well.”
This piqued my interest. Perhaps the job would provide a way for me to travel in search of my family—assuming, of course, I received information on my brother’s whereabouts and answers about my parents from the Assistance Society. I planned to send a second set of letters, if nothing arrived soon.
“It’s so kind of you to arrange this and bring me today.”
He shook his head. “It’s no trouble.”
We reached Quai Francis Garnier and turned left, passing a tiny woman in a cone-shaped bamboo hat, who carried huge baskets of daikon hanging from a pole balanced across her frail shoulders. A bicycle raced past in a death-defying balancing act, loaded with three huge bags of rice tied across the back fender. I still marveled at the hard labor performed by Lao workers each day, the constant effort of families to sustain their tenuous lives. Perhaps I appeared privileged to them, dressed in nice clothes and riding in a pousse-pousse with an aristocratic man. But my existence felt as precarious as theirs in many ways. I shivered to think how quickly my fortunes could turn.
When we arrived at River Transport, there were two longboats towing a large raft, which had moored along the riverbank. The vessels sat low in the water, piled with wooden crates and hemp sacks. An army of scrawny men, wearing nothing more than loose pants, hauled bundles nearly twice their size up the steep bamboo ramp and into the warehouse.
Bounmy led me into a cramped two-room office connected to the warehouse. Two men sat at their desks, which were covered with stacks of paper, poring over ledgers. Piles of documents and folders covered the furniture and floor. Upon seeing Bounmy, the men jumped up with a nop. “Sabaidee, sabaidee,” they murmured.
A man emerged from the second room, and Bounmy introduced me to his cousin Prince Kham Savang. Kham’s eyes traveled up and down my body until I wanted to sink into the floorboards.
There was little family resemblance between the cousins. While Bounmy was tall and thin, with well-proportioned, refined features, Kham was squat and brawny, with a broad forehead, an oversized jaw that jutted out, and thick lips. He wore Western pants and a loose cotton shirt with a Mandarin collar common among Vientiane merchants.
Bounmy turned to me. “I’m sorry, but I must get back to work. We have an important meeting with trade officials from Burma this afternoon. When you finish, the pousse-pousse will be waiting for you outside to take you wherever you need to go.”
“Thank you for everything. Good luck with your meeting.” I felt terribly alone and uncertain as he opened the door to leave.
Bounmy pivoted in the doorway and spoke to Kham in Lao, his voice cool but firm. I caught only a word here and there, unable to comprehend what he’d said.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry,” his cousin answered in French.
Kham led me into his office and cleared a pile of papers from the extra chair next to his desk. “Please, Mademoiselle Dubois, sit down.” He spoke French with a pronounced Lao accent. He took a sip of tea from a tin mug and sighed. “I’m not sure how you know Bounmy, but he says you have an urgent need for work”—he gave a half-laugh, as if telling a joke—“and that you have a talent for numbers.”
The tone of his voice made my acquaintance with Bounmy sound suspect. My voice wavered as I described the top scores I’d earned in mathematics at school. “I don’t have experience in accounting, but I’m quick to learn. I know I could do the work.”
Kham shrugged with indifference. “The men in the next room have worked here for many years keeping detailed accounts and know every aspect of this business better than I do. I don’t need another accountant, but perhaps there are other tasks you could fulfill.”
The tiny shred of confidence I’d brought to the interview quickly disappeared as I searched desperately for an opening, something I might offer. Then I remembered Bounmy’s comment about the office’s disorder. “It does seem you need someone to clean and organize the office and records. The business would run more efficiently and save you money.”
Kham scowled for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You are most observant, mademoiselle.” His fingertips tapped the desk several times. “Let’s see what you can do over the next month. I’ll pay you twenty piastres a week?”
My mouth dropped open. I could hardly believe such a generous salary, more than twice what I would have earned with the teaching assistant position I’d been denied. “That…that would be fine,” I sputtered.
“You can start tomorrow. The office is open from eight to six Monday through Friday, and Saturdays until noon.” He paused. “No woman has ever worked here, so the men may resist your efforts, especially the accountants. You’ll have to prove yourself to them and me.” Not bothering with niceties, he stood and pointed the way out.
“I’ll do my best,” I assured him. “Thank you.” I made a nop and left.
My heart overflowed with gratitude for Bounmy’s thoughtfulness in leading me to his cousin. Thanks to him, a job with an extremely generous salary brightened my future. Kham had been abrupt, even rude, but I would work hard and impress him with my efforts. I couldn’t wait to write Bridgette about my good luck and send Bounmy a thank-you note.