by Judith Montgomery

A leopard’s growl jolted Song from his deep sleep. Choking with panic, he heard Nam trumpet outside the village compound. The elephant beat the ground with his trunk. Thwop! Thwop! Thwop!

Song swept aside the bamboo screen, peering into the inky shadows. He doubted a leopard would attack a full-grown elephant, but he still worried.

At first light, Song stood on the top rung of the porch ladder, searching the thick forest for signs of Nam.

"Sawat dii, my son." Song heard the thumping of his father’s crutches and frowned when he saw the heavy splint on his leg.

Song bowed, returning the traditional Thai greeting. "Sawat dii, Father."

Jaran Pomwat pointed toward the forest. "I guess you heard the leopard. Our rainy season makes the beasts restless."

Song looked toward the mountains where purple-black clouds gathered. Below them swirled the waters of the Chao Phraya, the mightiest river in Thailand. His father had built their house on stilts to avoid flooding.

Jaran smiled. "Do not fear for Nam. We have been together a long time. A mahout knows his elephant."

Song watched his father’s face and saw the sadness he tried to conceal. Jaran had been Nam’s mahout, or trainer, since he was Song’s age. They had been an inseparable team, but after their neighbor’s elephant trampled him, Jaran couldn’t work in the timber camp. Now Song’s father was the village herdsman, a job usually reserved for old men.

Song knew he could help his family by earning money at the timber camp, but wondered if he could take his father’s place. Would Nam obey him? His fists clenched as he saw their neighbor loading piles of baskets into his truck.

"Mr. Kusawadi leaves for the market early this morning," his father said.

Song couldn’t contain his anger. "It’s not right! He goes on with his life just as before. If he had controlled Jampui, you would never have been crippled!"

"Mai pen rai," Jaran shrugged as he said the familiar Thai words.

"It does matter," Song protested. "Mr. Kusawadi doesn’t care about your pain, just as he doesn’t mind cheating the women who weave his baskets. Everyone knows he keeps most of the money for himself."

"Perhaps money is important to him because he has nothing else."

Song watched their neighbor bow before the spirit house in his garden and knew what his father meant. Mr. Kusawadi prayed daily to gain favor from his household gods. He had laughed when the Pomwats attended prayer meetings at the missionary church.

"So you pray to the Christian God," he had said in a scornful voice. "Will your God bless you with wealth and heal your leg as well?"

Song had watched as the men faced one another.

"God has given me more than wealth," Jaran had said with a smile. "He has given me what I have wanted all my life—peace and forgiveness."

Mr. Kusawadi had been the first to look away. "Pah!" he had said, spitting at the ground. "You speak the nonsense of a weak man!"

Remembering Mr. Kusawadi’s mockery of his father, anger burned through Song again. "He is a bad man. Nothing you can say will change him."

"Yes," his father agreed, "words only reach his ears. We will leave the rest to God."

Off to Camp

Hurrying to their water buffalo in the yard, Song helped his father settle on the beast’s broad back. Jaran would lead the village herd to pasture before the storm broke.

Once his father was on his way, Song climbed the mountain for almost a mile before he heard the dull clatter of the wooden bell Nam wore around his neck. He pushed through a stand of bamboo and saw the elephant crunching spiky branches and tender leaves.

"So, my great friend," Song said, speaking in the soothing rhythm his father had taught him. "We must work while the sun shines. Come, Nam."

At the sound of Song’s voice, Nam ambled over. In spite of his giant size, he behaved like a puppy happy to greet his master. The elephant curled his trunk around a tamarind fruit inside Song’s shirt.

"Hey, that tickles!" Song laughed. "How did you know I had a treat?"

Song used his stick to prod Nam’s leg, and the elephant raised his foot for Song to climb up onto his back. He nudged the elephant behind his warm, leathery ears, urging him toward the timber camp. Now would come the true test. Nam loved to play with Song, but would he work for him?

At the camp, Mr. Karayas, the timber boss, assigned Song and Nam to work with another team.

"The last of the logs must be dragged to the river today," he said, looking at Song. "Your father has been my best mahout. Because of him, I will take a chance on you."

"You won’t be sorry, Mr. Karayas," Song said, nudging Nam to fall in behind the others.

Together the elephants worked all day to push massive teak logs with their heads and drag them to the river with heavy chains.

Back at the camp, Song collected his pay. "You have done a man’s work today, Song," Mr. Karayas said. "Your father will be pleased."

Song patted Nam’s trunk. "I had a good partner."

Slippery Situation

The first of the rains began that evening and continued all night. The next morning, the Pomwats heard an earsplitting crash and rushed to their porch. Several logs had smashed into Mr. Kusawadi’s house, almost breaking one of the stilts. The house leaned heavily to one side.

"We must try to save Mr. Kusawadi’s house," Jaran said. "If we don’t work fast, he will return from market to find everything he owns in the river."

The headman gathered the villagers on the riverbank. "We won’t be able to repair the stilt until these logs are moved," he said. "Jaran, could we use Nam to drag them out of the way?"

"That is not my decision," he answered. "Song is Nam’s mahout now."

Seeing the eyes of the villagers turn toward him, Song felt his face flush. Why should he help Mr. Kusawadi? He was a bad man who caused his family sorrow. But with a pang of guilt, Song remembered Jesus had commanded, "Love your neighbor as yourself."

"I will fetch Nam," Song said and turned abruptly for the forest. When he returned with Nam, the villagers were trying to salvage the furniture sliding out of the house.

Song set the chain to the first log. "Pull!" he told Nam. The elephant tugged and strained, slipping to his knees under the heavy burden. He bellowed and surged forward again. This time the log moved.

Watching him, Song shook his head in wonder. This great beast obeyed orders without question, while he himself found it difficult to obey Jesus’ command to love and forgive.

Song bowed his head. "God," he said, "help me forgive Mr. Kusawadi." As he prayed, Song felt a weight lift from his heart.

From Foe to Friend

That afternoon when Mr. Kusawadi returned from market, he found his belongings in a waterlogged pile. He stormed up to the Pomwats in a rage.

"Jaran, is this the revenge you take on me?"

"You don’t understand, Mr. Kusawadi," Jaran said. "The storm caused a mud slide, and some logs hit your house. Song used Nam to move them."

For once, Mr. Kusawadi seemed at a loss for words. He searched the faces around him. Puzzled, he turned to Song. "Why would you show me kindness when I . . . ?" He stopped and hung his head.

Song moved forward. "Jesus tells us to love our neighbor," he said. "You are my neighbor."

The next morning, Song looked across the fields. He could see Mr. Kusawadi gathering the herd of water buffalo. Instead of his usual fine garments, he wore rough work clothes and carried a staff.

With amazement, Song realized God had touched this selfish man’s heart. He was doing a herdsman’s lowly work to help Jaran—his neighbor. Song felt a rush of joy swell within him, and he leaned over the porch railing to call the man below.

"Sawat dii, Mr. Kusawadi. Sawat dii."

	Q: What kind of animal has the most fleas? A: A flea-line. Carly R.,12, Ohio Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe