Cambodian Book of the Dead by Tom Vater

years hopping from conflict to conflict had led him somewhere else. Borderline situations were always crowded with ghosts. Kaley was different from any other woman he had ever met. For the first time in his life, Maier felt fear in the presence of an unarmed, friendly woman. A strange, foreign feeling and one he relished. Mostly it was her black, so very black eyes. The expression in her eyes made him want to offer her some commitment, a promise, a finger, anything, even if it would bind them to the bitter end.
    Her end, not his.
    Maier felt callous for a second. Then he remembered to breathe slowly and enjoy life.
    â€œHow do you know my name, Kaley?”
    â€œLes told me. Les my friend.”
    â€œWas your sister just here a moment ago?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhen did you last see your sister?”
    Her expression remained impassive. She just kept looking at him. He had the feeling that she was very close to him now and that she could sense something in him that he had no conscious knowledge of.
    â€œWhen I am little girl. In our rice field. But now she is coming back to come and get me. I think that maybe you see her?”
    Maier shook his head.
    â€œWhat gave you that idea?”
    â€œLes told me that you are good man with good heart.”
    â€œI am a man.”
    â€œI know.” Maier began to sweat, sitting in the shade.
    â€œI have to go.”
    â€œWhere do you have to go, Kaley? Stay another moment.” As soon as the words passed his lips, Maier knew he shouldn’t have asked.
    â€œLes said you are good man,” she said stubbornly. But she stayed. And smiled at him. He’d be responsible for what was to come. He’d asked her to stay.
    Maier knew she’d go with him. He only had to ask. And then she would never be able to sit in front of him as she did now. He remained silent. Her first question had been her last. You were only asked this question once in a lifetime, if ever. It was like a Grail. He offered her his water. She took a swig and handed him the bottle back. A few drops ran down her chin and fell onto her black cotton blouse where they turned into steam.
    â€œI tell you a story. An old Khmer story that people tell in the village at night.”
    Maier nodded to her with encouragement.
    â€œA long time ago, a rich woman live in Kep. Her name Kangaok Meas. She very cruel woman and treat her husband and her slaves very bad. Kangaok Meas have slave called Kaley. Kangaok Meas beat and curse Kaley every day. Even Kaley work in the field all day, she hardly have enough to eat. When Kangaok Meas find out Kaley is pregnant, she send her husband away to the harvest and make her work harder. On the day Kaley get her pains, Kangaok Meas beat the girl with a yoke and shout, ‘Because you love your husband, you forget that you are my slave. I will kill you and your child.’
    â€œThe husband of Kangaok Meas felt sorry for Kaley, but he scared of his wife. When she angry, she bite him, scratch him in his face and kick into his balls, so he almost fall sick. Soon Kangaok Meas died and was reborn the child. The people in the village hated the child. Not even Kaley like the child. Ten years pass and one day, Kaley tell her daughter to work. Now Kaley daughter work in the sugarcane field from morning to night time. Then she marry the man who is no good, always drunk. When the girl get pregnant, the husband beat her and she die with her child.”
    Somehow, Kaley took something like a bow in front of him as she rose and for a split second Maier could see into her blouse. Her breasts shifted with the rhythm of her sparse, elegant movements. Kaley moved so slowly that he could enjoy the eternal second. These were forbidden fruits. You did not look at the cleavage of a ghost, a goddess or a cursed being.
    â€œThank you, Maier.”
    Kaley departed as silently as she’d come. He was alone. More alone than he’d ever been in his entire life. In a sudden