The Missing Son

By Chamnol Cheng and Meg Trast

When mysterious objects of a possibly alien origin begin appearing near his island home, Nakoy's life and the safety of everyone he loves is threatened. After discovering a sinister metal structure in the forest, and then a slimy egg-like object floating in their fishing grounds, Nakoy's family

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nol
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781737948421

Book preview

1

THE MISSING DOGS

Nakoy and his family lived in a hut that was hours away from the beachfront and several miles away from the town. His father said to him: I believe in bad luck, and an Exsapool Ruler once said: ‘Secrets should never be revealed to the family. It’s bad karma.’ Nakoy wondered whether their belief was real, so he never gave up his attempts to unravel the truth. A tale of countless secrets: the tribe’s beliefs, and the Seagorian Island’s unsolved mysteries.

Dark, curly hair Nakoy, in a snug, sleeveless shirt and fitted leather pants, thrust his spear forward toward the opened window of his room. He eyed the spear’s tip and thought about his father’s words: My grandfather once said, ‘One must fulfill their deeds. A deed for a deed. And one day you’ll find out what it means.’ Dad, why won’t you tell me? he thought, leaning his spear against the wall.

The birds were chirping in the trees, its leaves hissing in the wind. The breeze blew east into the forest, and rapid waves surged north toward the shore. The weather was warm and humid. It was the end of spring, and the sun wheeled over the horizon, shining down on the sandy shore. The family was at home preparing for a day at the beach.

Nakoy trod out of the front door, squealing, and paused on the porch’s steps. He gazed at his father, ambling toward him. His father was about six-foot-tall, which was who Nakoy inherited his impressive stature from. The wind gusted east, shaking his father’s brown scarf and leather breechcloth. Where are the dogs? he said.

Saboya halted before the bottom of the stairs, placing his barefoot on the step. He glanced straight at Nakoy’s brown eyes and hawked nose resembling his. They’re probably in the backyard, he replied, patting his son’s muscular shoulder with a callused palm from hours of forging his weapons. It’s almost time to go to the beach. Go find them. Come see me when you find them. Without a response, he paced up the stairs, past by his son, and into the hut.

Is that so, whispered Nakoy, putting his palm on his chin. I have a better idea. He glimpsed straight at his sister, Lorrian, and half-smirked. There you are. Eyes gleaming, he rubbed his palms together. He loved his dogs, but he also liked playing tricks on his sister because, to him, it was brotherly love. His mother said to them: Always arguing. Can’t you get along? But they never stopped, because they were young, and it was all about fun and games.

Nakoy observed the area before advancing. On his right were two bamboo sheds, trees here and there, and taller trees with thick shrubs surrounded and shadowed the yard and hut like the shape of an apple. Their leaves covered the area like a canopy, barely any light passing in through various places. Up ahead, a path extended out like the apple’s stem, leading to the West Forest. Plants and trees shaded the path. Then he glanced at his sister, in a brown, leather dress draping over her thighs, sitting on an ashen rock in the center of the front yard. Her long black hair fanned along her back in the breeze from the east. She prepared an herbal remedy, derived from their ancestors, for soothing wounds.

Lorrian threw the mint leaves and antidote leaves into a rock bowl and picked up a rock from a banana leaf on the soil. She bashed the ingredients together, squirting their juices. The leaves aroma spread in the air like smolder from a smoke bomb, sneaking into her nose. Seconds later, she stopped squashing the ingredients and placed the rock in the bowl. She sighed and shook the tiredness from her hands to relieve the tension from her muscles and joints.

Nakoy hummed a joyful tune while pacing toward his sister.

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. Ahh… it smells so good, said Lorrian, sniffing the fragrance. She grimaced after a moment, gawking at the animal fur concealing a large rock. The raw animal flesh smelled foul, enticing a swarm of flies, swarming around in the humid air. The mint leaves helped to eliminate the odor, but the animal stench was stronger, quickly empowering the herbs and drifting back on the breeze.

Nakoy paused casually before his sister and glimpsed down at her beauty mark, about the size of a mosquito, on her left cheek. Sweat seeped down her face. He tugged on her hair lightly and said, grinning, Got a buggy.

Just go away.

But dad needs your help.

Lorrian set the rock in the bowl and gazed up at him from under her dark eyebrows. Light from the sun gleamed into her brown eyes, squinting, so she put her hand on her forehead to block the glare. What now? she said, shaking her head, boys… little boys.

Boys? You think you’re perfect, exclaimed Nakoy, folding his arms on his chest and tapping his foot on the soil. Dad wants you to search for the dogs. I’d do it if I wasn’t busy, and they’re probably in the backyard.

Ugh, not again! said Lorrian. It’s always me. She tsked and sighed. Why me? Well… if he said so, I’ll do it. She looked wistfully down at the rock bowl by her feet.

Good, said Nakoy, rubbing his moist palms, I’m gonna go talk to dad. He strolled back toward the front porch, paused, gazed back at his sister and shouted, and remember it’s almost time to go to the beach, so hurry up!

’Blah, blah, blah,’ that’s all I ever hear from you. I said, I’ll do it! And don’t worry, it’ll be snappy! Lorrian hollered, groaning. I hope they’re back there, she muttered, springing up from the rock to her feet and striding toward the left side of the house. She stopped and glimpsed at her brother from across the yard. So, where are they?

He heard her calling loud, like a wild baboon, so he paused on the front-porch and side-eyed her. I’ve already told you, they’re in the backyard! Nakoy yelled, then trod toward the front door as his mother, Paamie, exited the hut. Sweat rolled down her upturned nose and plump cheeks. Her dark, braided hair swung in the wailing wind, across the back of her brown dress.

There you are. Your father’s looking for you, said Paamie, smiling.

I know, said Nakoy, grinning back at her. I’m going. He entered the hut.

Paamie halted on the front-porch and saw her daughter heading toward the backyard. Where you going, missy? She glimpsed at her son through the doorway and said, Nakoy! Where’s your sister going?

Nakoy and his father, Saboya, were squatting on the bamboo floor while speaking flamboyantly over the birdsong coming from the backyard as they gathered their supplies: food for themselves and bait for the fishes.

Saboya grasped a worm from the coconut shell and raised it before them. This’ll catch us a mighty one, he said, cheerfully. Part of their trip was to be a father and son’s outing that they hadn’t done in weeks.

I hope so, said Nakoy. His father was an expert fisherman who always caught several fishes and never returned home empty-handed. He wanted to beat his father in a fishing competition. Despite years of trying, he never caught a bigger fish than his father. I’m gonna beat you this time, he thought. Gonna catch a big one.

Paamie put her hands on her waist. It’s like talking to the wall. I’ll find out where she’s going, she muttered to herself and followed her daughter toward the backyard.

2

THE SEARCH

Paamie arrived at the backyard and paused; before her lie a hole in the ground, with scratch marks along its sides. The dogs were here, she said, scanning the forest. Large trees shaded the area, and the rain soaked through the soil the night before, but luckily it didn’t flood their home like an incident that occurred years ago.

The family escaped before rain flooded the area. They traveled northwest to get to higher grounds and reached the grassland between the mountains, where the earth sloped like a ditch. Bushes and plants crept over their heads, concealing the area and making it difficult for them to see their destination. They arrived at an army of trees and plants surrounding a hidden cave, and they took shelter inside. Light passed in through a small entrance up above. Their eyes glowed yellow, as if enchanted by a magical spell, forming bumps on Paamie’s skin. Her hair froze on the back of her neck.

I feel strange, like something’s watching me, she said. We shouldn’t be in here.

We’re safe, said Saboya, and we’re away from the storm. Everything will be okay, and I won’t let anyone hurt our family. We’ll head back home when the storm passes by. Though, he didn’t know much about the abandoned cave or what it was used for in the past. His grandfather told him it used to be their enemy, the Eaharian’s fortress. Paintings of red bulls and black boars covered the walls, that was believed to be a ritual, or an offering to the Sacreds, for a blessing in return.

Saboya’s grandfather had said, A deed for a deed. Of course, nobody could confirm this deity.

When the monsoon finally ceased, they returned home to a collapsed hut, the debris of their former home scattered on the muddy ground. The family rebuilt at another location under, the trees’ dense umbrellas.

Paamie observed the area again, but there were no signs of her daughter. She scratched her head, looking east. The sun felt warm against her skin, and it shone down on the leaves, drops of water sparkling like the Blue Crystals, which were rare artifacts found close to the mountains, under the grounds, and along the river where a volcano erupted. The tribal elders found them and hid them in safe places, where they wouldn’t be discovered. The Crystals were believed to be the richest elements, once used for a special purpose, an offering to the Sacreds. Scanning the area produced no sign of Lorrian. Paamie heard the morning birds, tweeting in the trees, and they flew over her head from branch-to-branch to meet their friendly neighbors and sing together. Birds were her favorite animals, and she loved hearing them every morning before getting out of bed. She always thought they were singing a romantic song, like her husband sang to her at night to comfort her whenever she felt unhappy.

Where are you? Paamie whispered. She walked around the area to investigate for further clues. She saw human footprints on the wet soil on her right, leading east. Her heart pounded, lungs built up with pressure. I wonder where she is. I have to find her.

Paamie trailed the footsteps east until she was deeper in the forest and reached the Outsider Tree, leaning left, and slowed down while glancing cautiously from side to side. Green mold covered its surfaces. She had been to this area that reminded her of her husband before, forging a bow and spear, and he’d said, Once you pass this tree, you need to be careful. It’s dangerous. And the only things that can save you are the dogs and these weapons. They’ll come in handy someday. She remembered sometimes walking the dogs pass the tree.

I don’t have any weapons, Paamie muttered. She bit her bottom lip with an urge to turn around and head back home, but she resisted in favor of continuing the search for her daughter. It’s dangerous, but I have to find her. I’ll be okay. Her husband warned her not to pass this point, but she was determined to find her daughter. Her children meant the world to her. It was life or death.

Seconds later, a furious warm air rushed into her. Paamie dashed through the debris of the leaves, trees, and bushes spinning wrathfully around in the air. Lorrian! Lorrian! She darted under the greeneries, dangling from their trees like vines, shaking with a mysterious sound like a wicked ghost of the forest. Her husband often said, Even though, no one has seen such thing, it’s been known for decades. Our tribal ancestor died and resurrected from the dead. I’ve heard he haunts the forest.

Paamie thought he knew more, so she questioned herself. What if there was such a thing as a ghost that walks the forest? Is it dangerous, and can it harm humans?

Paamie slowed her breathing, unbuckled her eyes, and skimmed the forest to see if anyone or anything was nearby. The leaves trembled as if something, or someone, shook them.

Who’s there? Paamie asked through her quivering lips. Moments later, another roaring wind stream blew south. She replaced her arm quickly on her eyes. The wind snapped the branches off from the trees and shot the pieces in all directions, some barely missing her face by an inch and slitting her elbow.

She peeked at the sky; dark clouds drifted, the lightning bolts striking, heavy rain pouring, and the leaves whirling around in the air like the eye of a tornado. A funnel cloud, as if it were the month of June.

June had the worst storms, wind and dense rain causing massive flooding.

Lorrian! Lorrian! said Paamie, panting. She darted through the vines, hanging from the trees. Water trickled from their leaves onto her body, soaking through her clothes. Raindrops rolled down her left arm and stung its bruises, and she glimpsed at her elbow. Blood oozed out of a gash.

Oww, she hissed. She caressed it and wiped the blood off from her skin.

Paamie bulleted, pushing through the under brushes and prickly branches, scraping her skin while dodging the roots. Lorrian!

Paamie advanced through the forest, eyes sweeping from side to side. She heard the birds, whistling in the trees, which sounded different from the ones she heard earlier by her house. They whistled a song that in other circumstances might soothe her to sleep. She saw three birds to her right, a mother, a father, and a juvenile, squatting in a puddle of water. The mother and father were dipping themselves into the water while shaking their heads. The father, with an orange beak, skimmed the area to see if something was stalking them. He exchanged looks with her. The mother and daughter ignored her and chirped. Their tunes reminded her of her husband, whistling while walking through the forest and singing a Memories together. Seconds later, the father turned the other direction from her: a peace treaty. Cute birds.

Minutes later, her clammy skin itched, and a sting prickled her slim neck.

Ouch! she exclaimed, smacking at it. Damn bugs. She paused, examining her palm, a small dark stain on its groove. Ewww! Yuck, I hate mosquitos. She smeared her hand on her dress and checked her palm again to see if it was clean. The lines reminded her of her husband, who read her palms. He sometimes pointed at the long groove and said, grinning, See, I told you so. You’re the only woman for me.

I must hurry, said Paamie to herself, half-smirking. She followed the footprints for a while and arrived at an area full of plants and a bright array of vivid flowers, flowers, glistening from raindrops in the sun. She browsed the area while proceeding on the mud.

With great joy, she whispered, I remember this place. It was a once-in-a-blue-moon meeting area, where she met her husband and fell in love with him. It wasn’t their daily meeting place, where the Guardian Statues stood bold in the ruler’s kingdom to devote to the Sacreds. They used to stroll through the forest and speak about the future: marriage, children, and family matters. They named the place An Area of Miracles because it was believed the vase-shaped plants stored rainwater, sparkling blue when enchanted by a magical spell, considered good luck. The plants extended above her waist with water, flowing from their curvy sides to the ground with a plop.

I hope she’s okay. She knew there were no miracles, but she prayed and hoped to find her daughter. She heard raindrops, trickling from the leaves into the puddle of water with a splash and bouncing off it with a soft musical note, echoing through the forest.

Minutes later, Paamie paused before the landslide. The mud slid down their sides. Which way did she go? She gazed at the bank of mud while rubbing her nose. She put her fingers on her temples, shut her eyes and meditated with a spiritual method her husband taught her, to locate a missing person. If I were you, which way would I go? I know. The dogs’ favorite place, the statues. She remembered taking the dogs out for a walk, stopping at the animal statues to rest, and watching the dogs wrestling playfully. She opened her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip.

Her heart pounded, unsure whether her daughter was with the dogs. What if she was lost in the forest and didn’t know her way around? What if the dogs are not with her? What about the Komodo dragons? She’s far away from them, so she should be okay. I hope.

Paamie ambled south along the landslide, until it was low and halted. There were piles of leaves on the ground, knocked off the trees by the monsoon. She closed her eyes and wished she was in a deep sleep, dreaming of a happy moment. When the family got the puppies, that made her chuckle happily. This isn’t real. Wake up.

Finally, she murmured, It’s not a dream, and opened her eyes.

Paamie trod northeast through the tall bushes, leaves brushing against her skin. Water drizzled from the greeneries to her body. As she continued, she heard a loud racket, ricocheting through the forest toward her, and heard a babbling noise, that sounded like a group of monkeys, reminding her of Lorrian, who pointed at a monkey and said, Ma, can I bring one home? They’re cute. She followed the sound, until she smelled a foul odor. Her nostrils twitched, and she coughed.

What’s that smell? exclaimed Paamie, waving a hand over her nose. Her head wobbled, mouth sagged and jittered, and throat scratched and parched. She swallowed her breath, placing her palm on her mouth. An itch in her nose and eyes caused her to sneeze, and she ran her fingers along her nose then wiped them on her dress. She viewed the area to figure out where the odor was coming from. It was the tallest place in the forest, with trees extending high above the others. She sniffed the air.

I’m close.

3

THE FAMILY DISAPPEARANCE

Nakoy and his father stood side-by-side, spears steady, ambling around the hut to search for his mother and sister.

Saboya glanced at his son, as if he knew something bad happened. So, where are they? he asked, raising his thick eyebrow at Nakoy. We’ve been searching, but they ain’t around.

Nakoy’s eyes widened, but he said nothing; he felt remorse for making his sister do his dirty work. I… Nakoy paused and mumbled, Uh-oh, I… He covered his mouth.

What did you say? said Saboya, staring narrowly at him.

I said… I don’t know, Nakoy said. Last time I saw mom was before I went into the house. And…Lorrian went to look for the dogs.

Saboya’s jaw fell, and he stopped by the right side of the hut. He gazed at his son in disappointment.

Nakoy halted before his father, glanced at the ground, and scratched his sweat-damp neck.

What! Saboya finally said. Didn’t I tell you to go look for them? So why did you tell your sister to do it? So disappointed. He sighed. Ai yi yi, what am I gonna do with you? said Saboya, clutching the shark tooth of his necklace.

Upon gifting it to Saboya, his grandfather had handed it to him, smirked, and said, This was a gift from my grandfather. It’s a good luck charm, and it’ll keep you safe wherever you are. And now it’s yours. Always keep it with you.

Saboya rubbed the shining tooth. I hope they’re alright.

I only wanted to help you. It’s my fault, said Nakoy, shaking his head. I didn’t listen to you. I’ll go look for them.

Don’t worry about it. I’ll go. You’ve done enough for today, so stay here and watch the hut. I’ll be back soon. You understand? said Saboya.

I know. I won’t, but… said Nakoy, pausing. I just want to help.

You can, by staying here, said Saboya, squeezing his son’s shoulder. It’ll only take a minute. You got it? He paced toward the backyard without waiting for a response.

Nakoy watched his father disappear behind the hut.

I feel ashamed. Why can’t I help? He sighed. If you say so, I’ll stay. But if you take too long, I’m coming for you.

4

ALIEN POD

Paamie reached an area with bushy plants. She pushed and pried through them, until she was on to the other side of the muddy ground, and saw a trail of footprints. I wonder if the tracks are hers. She glanced east at the piles of cobbles on the soil. A three-foot, flower rested by the rocks. Its five bright red petals blossomed with yellow spots, and a circular mouth with stamen attached to spikey disk in the center. She gagged, and it allured a swarm of flies, twirling around in the humid air. Beetles infested it. Whenever she saw this flower, it reminded her of her frowning husband, who would say, It smells like rotten animals, like it’s been dead for days. She hated the odor and couldn’t stand being next to it, and she normally stayed far away from it as possible. To her, it smelled like burning toxic gas, producing watery eyes and itchy throat. She coughed.

Paamie, fanned across her nose. So this is where the smell was coming from. She began the climb down the muddy hill while observing in all directions to see whether someone was watching her.

On her right, three monkeys sat on a strangler branch, just visible through the mist, so she halted with distance from them.

I knew it, she whispered, it’s only monkeys. They were cute Capuchins, with cream-colored faces, white