“The jig is up,” I said, “and I don’t know what they’d do if they found out a woman was pretending to be a monk, but I think it might involve a violation of the First Precept.”
“The one against unchastity?”
“Uh-uh,” I said. “The one against killing.”
We each had a cloth shoulder bag. They were both the same, and both matched our robes. Each contained a black lacquer begging bowl, a cup, and a razor. (I thought the razors would be of the old-fashioned cut-throat variety, but Ku Min had furnished a couple of disposable Gillettes. That was going to make shaving easier, but it substantially reduced the razor’s potential value as a defensive weapon. “Watch it, you son of a bitch, or I’ll slice you open with my plastic safety razor.” No, I don’t think so.)
We each had a small strainer of woven bamboo, for removing insects from our drinking water. That didn’t bear thinking about. A pair of wandering monks wouldn’t be buying bottled water, not that we’d be likely to find it on sale in the little village markets along the way. That meant we’d be drinking tap water or well water or ditch water, whatever the locals drank, without having built up the immunity that the locals had.
That being the case, I figured it would be a good sign to find insects swimming around in our drinking water – it meant the stuff would support life. And the insects, if we chewed them up and swallowed them, might be all the protein we got that day. Of course it would mean violating the precept against killing – and, depending on the time of day, the one against eating after twelve noon.
The few kyat we had left went in my bag, since I’d be more able to speak up safely if we needed to buy something. The three ivory carvings, wrapped up again in their bubble wrap and oilskin, went in Katya’s shoulder bag. I didn’t know how or to whom we could peddle them, but their value was high in proportion to their weight.
Besides, I wasn’t going to leave them behind. A man had died giving them to me (although he probably hadn’t planned on giving them to me any more than he’d planned on dying). I figured I ought to hang on to them. And, as Katya pointed out, Good Luck and Good Health and Long Life were much to be desired, and by no means to be taken for granted in the adventure we had in store for ourselves.
Katya’s eyes widened when I put the brick of heroin in my bag. Was it not dangerous to be carrying it? And would it not add unnecessary weight? And, at the risk of being picky, was it not somehow a violation of one of the precepts? Surely it was an intoxicating substance, was it not?
“We’re not going to ingest it,” I said. “As a matter of fact we’re not even going to take it with us. At daybreak Ku Min’s coming to take us to the boat.”
“That is very nice of him.”
“Well, he’s a nice fellow, and the two of us really hit it off.”
“And he bought these sets of robes, and the begging bowls, and the shoulder bags.”
“And the Gillette razors, too,” I said. “And in return we’re going to give him a kilo of heroin.”
“It is for him?”
“Why not? Have you got any use for it? Because I don’t.”
“No, but-”
“I told him I wasn’t even certain what it was. I said it’s probably heroin, but it might be milk sugar and quinine, for all I knew. He seemed to think it was worth the gamble.”
“Evan, if it is heroin, how much is it worth?”
“You got me,” I said. “If the DEA seized it in a drug raid in Miami, the newspapers would tell you it had a street value of a quarter of a million dollars. But that would be what it would wind up retailing for after it had been stepped on three or four times and parceled out into twenty-dollar bags and sold to desperate junkies. That’s a lot different from what it’s worth to a wholesale buyer in the States, let alone to someone in Rangoon.”
“Even so-”
“Even so,” I said, “it’s worth a lot more than a couple of red schmattes and a pair of black bowls. Is that what you were going to say?”
“I guess so. What is a schmatte?”
“A rag,” I said. “Or in the present instance a robe. If Ku Min finds a buyer for the stuff, I guess he’ll make out handsomely. But he’s making more of an investment than the robes and the rest of our gear. He got us the sandals, don’t forget.”
She picked up one and studied its bottom. “It doesn’t say Ferragamo,” she said. “In fact it was cut from an automobile tire.”
“That means it’ll probably outlast anything Ferragamo makes. He also set things up with the guys on the boat, and he’ll let people in Shan country know that we’re coming. Katya, I was planning on leaving the heroin behind and trying to think of a way to get rid of it that wouldn’t get it traced back to us. If you think I made a mistake-”
“I did not say that, Evan.”
“I’m not sure any of this is a good idea,” I said. “All we can do is roll the dice and take our best shot.”
“It would be safer for you to travel alone.”
“I’m not even sure of that. Maybe a monk knocking around on his own is cause for suspicion. Maybe they’re like nuns, always traveling in pairs.”
“But they do not travel with women, Evan.”
“Well, no,” I said. “They don’t.”
“I think I will go to sleep now,” she said after a moment. “We have only a few hours before daybreak. Will you come to sleep, Evan? It may be your last chance to sleep in a high bed.”
“I think I’ll sit up for a while,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m too tense to sleep.”
“There must be a way to get rid of tension.”
“I don’t think that would be a great idea, Katya.”
“I do not blame you,” she said. “Who could make love to someone who looks like this?”
“That’s not it.”
“It is,” she said, “but it is all right. I am too tired, and you’re right, it is not such a good idea. Good night, Evan.”