The Time Keepers

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Vietnam, 1978

T HEY HAVE BEEN WAITING ALL NIGHT BY THE RIVER, THE DARK water smooth as glass. They carry nothing but a bundle filled with food and canteens of fresh water all tied in a square piece of cloth. A single tin pot. A sack of lemons and a box of sugar.

The boat is late. The children are hungry. The men and women who are with them are standing still as trees.

The moon cuts through the darkness like a scythe. As they wait, looking for the boat they were promised, the tide inches closer to their silhouettes. They walk backward, retreating into the marsh, tall spears of reeds behind them. The cicadas loud in the wet grass.

It is the youngest boy who first sees the flash of light. A small beacon from a torch pulsating atop the head of the fisherman.

They walk into the river. Treading past the water hyacinth, a mass of green leaves and singular pink flowers. First, ankle-deep. Then, knee-deep. Finally, waist-deep. The children are afraid. Seaweed wraps around their legs, pulling them down. Still, they inch toward the boat. The weight of the river slowing them with each step until there is no sand or silt beneath their feet.

They reach their arms up toward the boat. The current flows against them. In the shadow of the ship’s hull, they see a woman extending her hand. A rope is thrown out to reach them, curling first on the surface of the water before sinking down.