Free The Lotus Eaters: A Novel by Tatjana Soli Page B

for the film. His brother, Veasna, tapped him on the calf with the leg of a tripod. "Complainer. But not when there is a tip."
    Linh sat in the shade, apart, and watched as Darrow painstakingly looked through his camera set on a tripod, moved away to make an adjustment, looked through the finder again, and at last pressed the cable release to snap the shutter, taking exposure after exposure of a bas-relief overhung by a cliff of rock that cast shadows on it. The joke among the workers was why so many pictures of a rock that hadn't moved an inch in thousands of years? Linh calculated it would take more than an hour to go through a roll of film at that rate, the job potentially endless. Darrow made minute changes after each frame with infinite patience. Three men held a long piece of reflector foil, changing the angle an inch at a time.
    During a break, the workers collapsed into the shade. Samang gossiped among his coworkers that the Westerners would kill them by working through the heat of the day. Darrow bellowed out a laugh and with his long strides moved to greet the new arrivals. He was even taller and thinner than Linh had remembered, as if his figure had attenuated during the months that had passed. Or had Linh's misfortune bent him? Made him smaller in the world? He recognized the American's large bony wrists.
    Earlier at the office, Gary had drummed on his desk in joy when Linh said he had worked with Darrow. Everyone in the know avoided working with his star photographer, and Gary had been on the verge of locking up the office to go hump equipment himself when Linh turned up. He would not look this gift horse over too closely. Past assistants quit because Darrow insisted on covering the most dangerous conflicts, carried too much equipment, and worked them endless hours.
    "You're as red as a lobster!" Darrow said.
    "The climate's killing me. Look who I found!" Gary used a flourish of hands as if producing Linh out of smoke, trying to cover the sham. "Nguyen Pran Linh. Am I good or what?"
    "Sure." Darrow smiled and offered Linh a cigarette and a piece of gum. This was a land of nuance, the outright question of where they had met before unspeakably rude. Content to wait, Darrow dipped his bandanna in the cooler water to wipe his face. The afternoon had been long and peaceful, but with the sound of Gary's jeep he felt a black weight descend on him. He cocked his head, moving slightly side to side, trying to place Linh. "How are you, my old friend?"
    "Why don't you make foil shields for each side instead of lighting only from underneath?" Linh took the cigarette and lit it quickly so the shaking of his fingers would not be noticed.
    Darrow let out a big laugh. "My technical expert from Binh Duong. Of course."
    Linh smiled but said nothing.
    "You really do know each other?" Gary asked.
    "Why would you bring someone who I didn't know?" Darrow said.
    Gary looked back and forth between the two men. "You're one funny guy. That's what I love about you. He's going in with you to the delta and Cu Chi. Lots of good stuff there. Cover stuff, you know? Another Congo. How can one man be so lucky? Chop, chop."
    "Got it." A mixture of feeling angry and tired, and something else--a strange, gauzy sensation that Darrow recognized as fear. Did Gary sense that he was hiding out? Trying to forget about Henry? That he was waiting for something? A sign that things were safe again? Why didn't Gary go hump through Cu Chi and risk getting his ass blown off? Instead he pimped another inexperienced local off the street as his assistant. Darrow's business was faces, but he hadn't recognized this one--Linh had changed so drastically. The guy had been dipped in hell.
    "So how much longer, you think?" Gary asked as they walked back toward the jeep.
    "Till I get the picture." He played Gary, pulled his chain, unfairly resenting the push. After all, it wasn't his fault--this crisis of nerve. Henry broke the illusion that they were charmed because they