Tropical Monsoon

The monsoon rains were starting up again.

The patter of fat drops on the red stucco rooftops dancing down the aluminum gutters and rushing out, flooding the squash garden below reminded Anh Hai of where he was.

He stood on the veranda, silent with arms crossed over his chest.

The gusty wind whipped his unbuttoned white linen shirt back from his body and ruffled his wavy hair with gentle fingers.

He listened with disinterest as it whistled through the mosquito grating on the door and bent the marigold stalks, pummeling their spicy golden heads against the side of the cement wall.

Anh Hai gazed out onto the flatness of the green rice paddies lined by the grove of banana trees and clumps of bamboo stalks. He gritted his teeth and lit a smoke.

Damn stuff.

He hated 555 cigarettes but the American cigarettes here were not worth the paper they were rolled in. The local manufacturing facility had gone cheap and substituted real tobacco paper for corn husks and fillers.

He took a puff of the cigarette and the loosely packed tobacco fell out onto the ground.

What the hell.

Anh Hai flicked the cigarette out onto the scraggly lawn. It fizzled and winked out as it died a quick soggy death. He needed to quit anyway.

He rubbed his forehead and saw in the distance, a team of water buffalo plodding by. The animals were tended by a skinny little boy with rags on his back and a torn conical hat perched atop his dripping head.

It reminded Anh Hai of his childhood days spent out in the rice paddies riding on top of the buffalo as if it was a proud stallion going off to fight against an unseen enemy.

Well, he was still off to fight against an unseen enemy, only this time, he was coming back to fight the enemy.

The torrential downpour grayed out the sky as it filled up the wells and nourished the rice fields, which in turn, nourished the people. It also brought relief from the heat and stickiness of the sweltering sun.

Yes, it was all very well except that it delayed much of his plans for the next several days.

The old warlock Tong Li had told him in no uncertain terms that he had to get to the Holy City of Champa to make sure their plans continued without fail.

There was a window of one week to do what they had to do. If they did not make that window of time, the cycle started over again and they would have to wait for another century.

"Will you also be there?" He had asked Tong Li.

"Of course. I will be waiting for you." The old man had said as he turned his sightless eyes, staring directly into Anh Hai's soul.

The intensity of the gaze had caused Anh Hai to shiver with apprehension. The old man could see far better than those who had perfect vision.

Myson, the site of the Holy City of Champa was but twenty kilometers away from Hoi An. Unfortunately, with the roads already so badly damaged from last season's floods, it would be impassable until the weather cleared up and the roads dried out a bit.

There was no way for him to get word to Tong Li of his delays. No way that is except perhaps…

Anh Hai reached for his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. There was no time like the present for some bronco busting lessons.

He made several quick calls and then he went into the house and lit a stick of incense which he inserted into a small earthenware pot outside under the veranda. If any time he needed luck, it would be right about now.

The god of luck had better be home and watching out for him.

☯︎☯︎☯︎

Jasmine woke up from her nap with a shudder.

For a moment, she could not figure out where she was, but the pounding of the monsoon rains on the train's steel body along with the sour odor of the garbage alongside the railroad tracks brought her back into the present.

Immediately after landing at the airport, she and Aunt Tien Ha had boarded a train heading for Myson.

Blake and Ray were hovering near the ceiling, keeping watch over everyone. They had refrained from saying much, preferring to remain in the background as the journey continued.

Exhausted from the 18-hour flight, Jasmine had fallen asleep on the sleeper cabin they had booked.

Darkness had gathered between the time they had boarded the train until the moment she woke up. Her face itched and her body was sticky from the heat and dust of twenty-four hours of continuous travel.

Already Jasmine could feel the effects of jet lag in conjunction with a serious bout of food poisoning. Her head pounded in unison with the dull queasiness in her stomach.

She scratched at her face and sat up trying to will some strength into her weekend body.

The train had stopped somewhere in the middle of nowhere and because the windows lacked glass partitions, the mosquitoes were gathering in by the clouds full.

She turned her head to look for Aunt Tien Ha and found the nun sitting on the opposite bunk, digging inside one of the backpacks.

"Good. You are awake. There is food for you on the table and some medicine for your stomach. How are you feeling?"

"I'm still not quite well, but thank you for your concern, Auntie." She looked over to the side table containing a small bag. "I don't think I want to eat anything at this point."

"You must eat, if only to conserve your energy. I have brought two hardboiled eggs still in their shells and a bottle of mineral water for you. They should be gentle on your stomach."

Aunt Tien Ha went back to digging in her backpack and eventually pulled out a box which contained round coils made of some rubbery material. They were the size of pancakes.

Jasmine had no clue as to what the purpose of those things were but once Aunt Tien Ha lit the ends of the coils and set them on the floor between the two bunks, their purpose was quite clear.

The smell of incense wafted through the air, and within a few minutes, there was no mosquito in sight.

"Unfortunately, we have been given a compartment with a broken fan. The mosquitoes would have been in luck had it not been for the ancient invention of the mosquito incense." Aunt Tien Ha stared out into the darkening horizon. "This is the application of effective strength using no force."

Jasmine chuckled at the irony of Aunt Tien Ha's words.

Indeed, the forceful breeze from a blowing fan would have kept the mosquitoes somewhat at bay, but the scent emanating from the incense coil was infinitely better at warding off the offending creatures.

With a loud screech and a lurch, the ancient train continued its long, rambling journey northward, towards the ancient Holy City of Myson.

Whatever was waiting there for them was going to have to continue to wait until they got there.