have enough gas to go around the bend. I’m hoping to find my friend in Floating Village to help us.”
Savanna wets her lips and remains silent for a moment as many thoughts flash through her mind.
The little boy looks like he is dying. He needs medical treatment just as much as Isan needs it.
Savanna feels guilty delaying his care. She turns her gaze to the boatman and studies him quickly.
The old man looks very frail. The river is very rough. When the boat runs out of gas, he might have trouble rowing it against the current. If he takes Isan with him, the extra weight could endanger them all. It is too risky to send Isan off across the wide-open river with just one man maneuvering the boat. The nearest hospital is at least sixty five kilometers away. It could take two days to get there without the motor engine. Maybe it is safer to wait here for another motorboat.
As Savanna contemplates her options, the boatman shifts his weight and clears his throat as if he knows what she is thinking.
“We have a long journey ahead of us,” he says wearily. “My boat is too small for both of you. Maybe it is better for you to catch a ride with a bigger boat,” he suggests, “so you two can be together.”
Savanna draws a deep breath, feeling very uncertain about her decision. What if there is no other boat? But the boatman has a good point. Isan is gravely wounded. If she sends him off, who will care for him? What if something bad happens to Isan on the way to the hospital. She would rather be by his side when that happens. Staying together is a better option, she tries to convince herself.
Without further delay, Savanna bows to the boatman with respect. “I’m sorry for taking your time," she says earnestly. “Thank you for stopping. May safety be with you all.” Savanna walks away heavyhearted.
The old man seems to be worried. His sad eyes follow Savanna from behind. After a moment, he sighs deeply and calls out after her, “Young woman, come back here. There is one thing I can do for you.”
As soon as Savanna hears the old man’s voice she turns around and answers him promptly, “Yes, sir?”
The old man hands her a glass jar filled with yellow liquid. “It’s raw honey,” he says.
Savanna takes a quick look at the boatman’s storage chest, noticing a tattered blanket, an old mosquito net, and two tiny clay pots. The man has very few possessions, yet he is willing to give away his last jar of honey to help a stranger, she says to herself and looks at the old man with great respect. Savanna feels badly taking the honey from him, but she is desperate. At this moment she would take anything that the old man can spare to save Isan’s life.
“Take it!" The boatman’s voice breaks into her thoughts. "Your husband needs it more than we do.”
Savanna hesitates, trying to figure out how to repay him, but the old man insists. He extends his arm to her. “Go on. Take it. Use it on his wounds. It will help stop the bleeding.”
His last words make her change her mind. Savanna takes the raw honey from him with heartfelt gratitude. “Thank you, sir,” she says.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more,” he replies. “Raise your hands and pray to God for us, my child.”
Savanna places her hands together, brings it up to her chin and bows solemnly to show him respect. She keeps her eyes downcast as she recites a prayer for them. “May God of our first ancestors bless you and your family," she says. “Please, be careful.”
“Good luck and be safe,” he responds. The old man rows the boat back into the deeper water.
Savanna turns her gaze to the lady. Without a word, the young mother lifts her head up for the first time. Locked in her own misery, the young mother gives Savanna a blank look.
As soon as the boat moves into the deeper water, the boatman cranks up the engine. It roars back to life and chugs away from the riverbank.
Savanna rushes back to the wooden board. Isan lies in his blood with his eyes closed. He is unconscious and barely breathes.
Savanna studies him for a moment. His face looks so peaceful. He seems to be in deep sleep. Savanna does not want to wake him up, but she knows his wounds need to be treated, otherwise he will bleed to dead.
Savanna kneels beside Isan. She opens his shirt. The shredded tobacco that she had used to cover his wounds thirty minutes ago is soaked in blood. She gently removes the blood-stained tobacco from his wounds and smears honey all over his abdomen.
Since ancient time, people in Great Moat Village have been using raw honey to treat open wounds, cuts, and burns. It had performed miracles in many cases. She hopes it would do the same for her husband.
“Isan,” Savanna calls his name tenderly. “Please, come back. You’ve got to fight. Don’t let yourself drift away.”
Isan does not respond. Savanna shakes his motionless form. “Isan, you must wake up!” she begs. “I know you can hear me. Listen to my voice and follow my words." Savanna leans closer and speaks right next to his ear, “Come back and fight for your life!”
As soon as she stops talking, she notices a small movement in his facial expression. Savanna watches him breathlessly for a long moment.
After thirty seconds or so, Isan’s eyelids start to flutter. He tosses and turns his head. His mouth moves in silent words, trying to tell her something. All that comes out is a weak cough.
Savanna brushes Isan's hair away from his face with her hand. “The bleeding is starting to slow down,” she says in a hopeful voice. “You will feel better soon. Just hang in there. You’re going to be okay.”
After a short struggle, Isan gasps for breath and opens his eyes, trying to talk. Wordlessly, she lifts his head into her arms and cradles him tenderly like a small sick child.
Isan mumbles something incoherently, which might have meant, “Thank you, or I love you,” and drifts into a deep coma again.
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