Livia shook her head helplessly.
They were quiet for a moment, then she pointed to herself. “Labee,” she said. “I am Labee.”
The boy nodded and pointed to himself. “Kai.” Then he added, “Where we go, Labee?”
She shook her head again. She wanted to tell him he was brave, but couldn’t remember the word.
4—THEN
They drove for hours past sprawling fields and terraced paddies, by streams sparkling in the harsh sunlight, through small towns with wires strung on poles along the road. Livia leaned against the metal side of the van. The bumps made it uncomfortable, but this way Nason could use her as a cushion. At some point, she woke and realized she’d been dozing. The bumping was gone. She looked out the window and saw the road was paved. She had only seen one paved road before—the narrow, winding one connecting her village with those of the other hill tribes—and she was amazed to see how long and straight this one was, going on and on for what must have been kilometers.
They stopped twice more. At one of the stops, the men handed out rice crackers, which the children devoured, and then bottles of water. No one tried to run. Livia told herself she would have if she hadn’t needed to take care of Nason, but she wasn’t really sure.
As night fell, they reached the edge of a giant city. Livia had never seen so much concrete, so many cars, such massive buildings. Even from inside the van, she could hear the noise of the place, feel its swirling energy. She was pretty sure this was Bangkok, which she of course understood was the capital of the country, but which until that moment had existed in her mind mostly as a kind of dreamland described in schoolbooks, not a real place she might ever actually see. A part of her was fascinated, amazed, by the sheer density of it all. But more than that, she was just frightened. She thought this must be where the men were taking them—where else would there be to go, after a city so enormous? What would happen to them here, in a place with so many people, of whom she and Nason knew none? A city this big could swallow them whole, and no one would ever even know.
And then, in the distance, against the violet and indigo of a darkening sky, she glimpsed a line of giant monsters lit from below and looming over a vast body of water. Everywhere there were enormous boats and rectangular metal boxes bigger than the van, bigger than two vans. Then she saw a sign in Thai: Laem Chabang Port. Was this the ocean, then? And were those monsters actually . . . machines, of some sort? Yes, they were. She saw some of them holding the metal boxes aloft with strings, moving them to and from the boats. The sides of the boxes were marked with huge white letters in languages Livia didn’t know. And then a wave of terror stole through her: were these men taking them to another country? She had barely gotten over her fright at being swallowed up in Bangkok. She couldn’t even comprehend what might lie beyond it.
Nason must have sensed her fear because she squeezed her arm and whispered, “What is it, Labee?”
Livia put an arm around and her and pulled her close. “Nothing, little bird. Nothing.”
They drove on, finally stopping alongside a wall of the giant metal boxes, stacked seven high and lined up as far as Livia could see. A single box lay in front of the others, displaced from the wall. One of the men got out. He opened a door on the box, looked around, then nodded to the other men. One by one, they began taking the children off the van and pushing them into the box. Livia was terrified—what was in there? What would happen to them? How would anyone ever find them in one box out of thousands? But there was nothing she could do. She had to be brave for Nason.
Livia and Nason were last. Nason was crying again, clinging to Livia. As two of the men pushed them toward the box, Livia, desperate, said in Thai, “Where? Where we go?”
Both of the men laughed. One of them looked at Livia in a way that made her want to cover herself. They shoved Livia and Nason inside, then stood blocking the doorway.
Livia looked around. There was nothing bad inside the box, at least. Actually, there was nothing at all. Just a few plastic buckets. But the emptiness was itself somehow terrifying.
Two of the men came inside and handed out more rice crackers and water. All of it was gone in seconds, and the men handed out more. While the children ate, one of the men gestured to his crotch, then to his backside, then to the buckets, grunting with each gesture. Livia understood. The buckets were toilets. They were going to be in this box for a long time. She fought back panic.