Savanna turns to face Isan with a smile. “I have something important to tell you,” she says.
“Something good?” he inquires in a playful way, smiling, and listening with interest.
Savanna hands him a bundle of water lilies and replies with a soft glow in her eyes, “I should see the doctor when we get to Neak Loung.”
Isan’s face flattens. His voice comes out more loudly than he meant. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I’m pregnant,” she says happily.
“A baby?” he exclaims.
Savanna nods with a smile. “Yes, a baby!" she confirms. “I think, I’m about ten weeks pregnant,” she adds.
Isan’s eyes grow wide with happiness. “After three years of trying, now we’re gonna have a baby?”
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Three bombs explode into the river before them, seemingly out of nowhere, sending shock waves in different directions.
“Get down!” Isan shouts, throwing his protective arm over her. The boat leaps over huge waves, nearly knocking their heads against the ceiling of the top deck.
Isan and Savanna get down on their knees and duck for cover under the vegetable stalls. In shock, they look across the harbor and see black smoke rising in the air.
Flames burn villages along the riverbank. The fire spreads to the wooden platform and floating homes.
Villagers run out of their burning huts in panic and confused. Some make a fruitless attempt to fight the fire, while others jump into the water to rescue injured family members from drowning.
Downstream, little children thrash wildly in the river, screaming and crying in terror for their parents to help them.
Overhead, three bombs are falling from the B-52s. The bombs slam into the pier and blow it to smithereens, leaving behind the dead on the shore, and the village in ruins.
In an instant, a thunderous roar of rushing water splits the air. Within moments, a sea of sludge along with huge waves pushes the boat to the middle of the river.
In total confusion, Ratanakiri cries out at the top of his voice, “Hurry up, let’s get the boat out of here!”
Mondulkiri, his big brother, roars back, “I’m trying!” As he struggles to get back on his feet, a massive explosion rocks the boat and kills the engine. Instantly, the boat shoots up in the air like a thunderbolt and plunges down with a crashing boom.
Waves break over them, sending torrents of water into the boat. Panicking, Mondulkiri scrambles to turn the engine back on.
Eyes glazed with terror, Ratanakiri pants wildly and crawls to the back of the boat to help his brother.
Beads of sweat break out on Mondulkiri’s forehead. He turns to Ratanakiri with a baffled expression on his face and asks, “We’re not at war with the Americans, why are they bombing us?”
Ratanakiri shakes his head and replies, “I don’t know. Maybe they’re going after the communist Vietnamese."
“It doesn’t make any sense," Mondulkiri responds with a look of frustration on his face. "We’ve passed through here many times, not once did we see any of them,” he says.
“Maybe the communist Vietnamese are hiding in the neutral zone and the Americans are chasing after them," Ratanakiri replies.
“Both of them are violating the neutral zone policy,” Mondulkiri responds. “The Vietnamese and the Americans have no right to fight their war in Cambodia.” Mondulkiri draws a shaky breath and throws another question at his brother. “Why don’t they settle their differences in their own countries?”
“They all have their own hidden agenda, but none of us knows the real answer,” Ratanakiri comments as he examines the engine. "I couldn’t think of any other reasons, except for the fact that we are small and weak and we can’t fight against great numbers of invisible tigers behind our backs and hideous giant metal birds over our heads. Soon we’ll be dead if we don’t escape their clutches. Now I have explained my theory, would you please hurry and get the boat out of here before they blow us to pieces,” he tells his brother in a sharp tone.
Just as Mondulkiri turns his head to look for a harbor to dock their boat, a loud booming thud shakes the earth.
Up in the sky, he sees a trio of B-52 bombers sailing toward them like giant vultures. “They’re coming again!” Mondulkiri cries out in panic. “Which way should I turn?” he inquires in a loud voice.
Overwhelmed and frightened, Ratanakiri roars above the sound of a loud explosion, “Turn back to shore!”
Struggling through huge waves and debris, Mondulkiri battles to bring the boat back to shore.
Not far ahead, there are several long rows of brown bamboo shoots bobbing in the water. Fishermen in Cambodia use these floating devices in the shallow water to track down their fishing nets. The shock waves from the bombing raid might have swept the fishing nets down the river.
Mondulkiri catches a glimpse of the nylon nets. He tries to swerve away, but he turns too late. The boat goes through the fishing lines.
The engine roars. The boat jerks violently and throws Mondulkiri off his seat. He glances over his shoulder and sees nylon nets tangling around the propeller. He shakes the steering handle frantically, yelling at the top of his lungs to his brother, “We ran into the nets. I need help!”
Ratanakiri stops bailing the water. He grabs a bamboo pole and tries to push the nets away from the boat.
More bombs blast into the river. The boat pitches and plunges, dragging the nylon nets along with it.
A huge chunk of driftwood slams against the bow. With a mighty crash, the top deck falls away. Cargo flies around in all directions. A teak wood chest tips over. Its contents spill out.
Savanna spots a one-meter long scythe with curved metal blade and wooden handle next to the teak wood chest. She cries out to Isan who is busy emptying the water out, “Isan, get the slasher to Mondulkiri and help him free the propeller. I’ll take over!” She tosses it to her husband.
As Isan seizes the scythe by its handle, something with a tremendous force slams into the boat on the right side. The boat rocks dangerously and tilts on its left side. Isan stumbles back and forth, but he manages to stay upright.
After a moment, he figures out how to balance himself and makes his way around to the outboard engine, where Mondulkiri and Ratanakiri are struggling to free the blades.
A powerful explosion erupts right behind them, sending the boat up high as if into the sky. And then down it crashes with a slide, flying, leaping across the river at incredible speed.
The boat rides over the swells, skimming, bobbing on the surface of the water like a piece of flotsam from a shipwreck. Without a break another trio of B-52 bombers roars overhead.
About five hundred meters dead ahead, three bombs explode and throw the boat off its course. Within seconds, towering waves pitch their boat toward the churning maelstrom of a great whirlpool.
Losing their wits and looking as pale as two ghosts, Molly and Money are transfixed with horror, unable to function. In terrified shrill voices, they scream hysterically at the same time, “We’re sinking! We’re sinking!"
The fraternal twins cling to each other weeping. “Oh God of our first ancestors,” they pray in unison, “please come and save us.”
“We’ll outrun this!” Savanna shouts out from the bow. “Get up and take your positions!” She slides