Chyarmanine walked through the forest on her way to find a late afternoon meal, her legs buzzing with the worn out energy that could only come from a full day dragging logs from the depths of the forest to the river bank. She thought about the humans and their complications.
She had been watching their comings and goings with interest, ever since she had carried the first young lady into the camp. Pretending to be lost, she would casually wander from hut to hut and linger by the windows and doorways hoping to pick up a morsel of fresh information. She couldn’t understand exactly what they said, but elephants had a great skill for reading body language.
She had known the apprentice oozie Zaw for a year. There were always a few among any group of novices who, sitting on an elephant for the first time, found that their pretensions had become as elevated as their backsides. They would brandish the whip, treating the elephant as just another tool for timber.
Not Zaw. From the moment he arrived at the camp, he had made a point to learn all of the elephant names and had never acted as though he was above them, no matter how high he was sitting. Of course he did not speak their language, but as he walked alongside the elephants on their way into the forest to collect teakwood, he would talk to each one in tones that were upbeat on the way there and soothing on the way back. When he was assigned to cleaning, he always made sure to bring fresh chomaleaves from the forest, because he knew that the elephants loved the bubbling sensation when they were lathered onto their backs.
She never would have guessed that the polite young man would be at the centre of a love story with so many threads. Zaw and Jin Bu were lovers, that was clear enough. The big man, who stomped around and gave orders to the fat man, had taken her away. If Zaw and Jin Bu loved each other then why would her father get in the way of that happiness? It made little sense to an elephant.
Chyarmanine found the patch of bamboo she was looking for and poked her trunk in to pull off a fresh stick. She would need to eat until sundown now, pulling, breaking and chewing as much bamboo, grass, vines and creepers as she could find in order to regain her energy for tomorrow. As she chewed and crunched she remembered her own courtship with Jhabow. It must have been twenty years ago that she met him. Before they could even kiss their trunks together he had been taken by the men to another camp faraway. She had waited over six seasons for him to return. And how he had returned! The memory of that night was still so clear to her. How he came to her under the full moon’s light. Would it be the same for Zaw and Jin Bu? Zaw had been wearing a dark cloud. Was it longing or mourning? It seemed as though Jin Bu had gone away for good and Zaw could or would not follow her.
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There was another girl, Seng Nu. She lived in the forest, but came to the camp in the day, even though this seemed to infuriate the camp Master, who would order her to leave as soon as she arrived. Seng Nu had a bodyguard now. Ever since the day he raged through the forest and then been caught under the tree, Pinkwetha had been loyal to Seng Nu and Seng Nu alone. To the astonishment of men and elephants alike, she was often seen riding him through the camp and along the forest trails. The young bull elephant’s demeanour was certainly calmer than before, but he would snort and bellow angrily if anyone so much as a hand on Seng Nu, which meant that no matter how much Dow Som yelled and shouted, she would not leave and he could not make her.
Chyarmanine would disobey sometimes. Especially during the high sun of the hot season when the wood seemed to grow heavier and a few of the younger oozies had tried to push their luck by adding another chain to the load. She would simply sit down and refuse to get up, until they took the chain off. But she had never taken things as far as Pinkwetha, who had gone rogue and simply walked and ate where he pleased.
She wasn’t exactly sure what Pinkwetha wanted apart from the ability to raid the fruit trees all day. But she knew why Seng Nu wanted to be at the camp, and wondered if it was as obvious to Zaw. After breakfast time was over and the oozies and the elephants were out working in the forest, Seng Nu would stay around the cook station, watching Zaw clean the pots and pans. Some humans were loud, others were quiet. Seng Nu seemed to be a mix of both. When she arrived at the camp in the mornings, sometimes with a basket of forest blue yams or northspice root, she had the caution of a sparrow pecking at spilt grains of rice next to a busy kitchen, one that would flutter away if someone so much as looked at them. Yet this was also the very same girl who had shouted at the master, something that none of the men, who were as loud as anything when they were three cups into the sugarwine, would ever dare to do!
Other times however, she seemed to have more confidence and would chatted to Zaw while he cleaned and began preparing the food for later. Seng Nu was a forest flower that bloomed brightly just once a year, but cloaked itself at all other times. Zaw was not a rude man and he always thanked Seng Nu but even though he would answer her questions he did so without any of the enthusiasm that she tried to bring. What Seng Nu saw in him was hard to tell, because there was no charm to Zaw anymore, nor smile on his face. Chyarmanine wondered if Zaw would ever get over Jin Bu. Would she have been able to get over Jhabow if he had never came back?
She reached out her trunk to grab another stick of bamboo. She did not know why but they always tasted better at night. She heard footsteps behind her and knew from the rhythm of the walk exactly who it was. Jhabow approached, a low moan stirring in her ear. He nuzzled his rough head into her side and then moved around to face. Together, they curled their trunks around each other in a secret midnight kiss.