Excerpt from The Flame Tree by Richard Lewis, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Mr. Suherman stepped forward. "Don't involve him."

"Now, brother -- "

"Get away," Mr. Suherman said harshly. Isaac stared at Mr. Suherman. He'd never heard the teacher be this rude. He'd never seen Mr. Suherman look like this, either, his expression hard and unyielding. Almost scary. The photographer retreated.

In fifteen minutes the town square had cleared, and workers were dismantling the stage. Clumps of people ambled away on the sidewalks, talking and laughing excitedly. Traffic began to flow. Mr. Suherman hailed a number five bemo, which plied the hospital route.

"But I've got to go tell Ismail's parents," Isaac protested. "They don't have a phone."

"I'm taking you straight home," Mr. Suherman said.

"But I promised Ismail."

"I'll tell them." He pushed Isaac into the bemo, following close behind.

When Mr. Suherman and Isaac got out at the hospital entrance, Mr. Suherman paid the driver with coins in his pocket. He knelt on the sidewalk so that he was eye level with Isaac. He sighed and then smiled. "You're like a little raja, aren't you, wandering around Wonobo as though you ruled it." The smile faded. "But let me tell you something. These days it isn't as safe as it has been. You shouldn't be going out on your own anymore. Will you promise me that?"

Isaac scowled.

Mr. Suherman cocked his eyebrows. "If you don't promise me, I'm going in with you to see your parents. You don't want that, do you?"

Isaac shook his head.

"So promise me you won't go out on your own anymore."

"I promise."

"Good lad. In you go, then. Don't forget your Esperanto lesson."


Before the Williams family left for the Sunday-evening service, the phone rang. Isaac, sitting at the kitchen counter reading the Sunday edition of the Jakarta Post, picked up the extension beside him. "Hi, Williams household."

"This is Sheldon Summerton. Is Dr. Graham Williams in?"

Sheldon Summerton was the senior foreign service officer at the American consulate in Surabaya. The previous year, before Rachel left for the States and boarding school, the Williamses had attended the Fourth of July party at a Surabaya mansion, complete with hamburgers and hot dogs on a big green lawn by a big blue swimming pool. Sheldon Summerton had outrageously teased Rachel, attention that made her blush with delighted embarrassment and Mary Williams's face darken with displeasure. A short while later Isaac, carrying a tray of drinks, had tripped and stumbled into the consular officer, soaking him with various sorts of liquor and beer. It had been an accident, honest, but Sheldon Summerton was the sort of man who found accidents caused by babies, dogs, and boys both suspicious and intolerable.

Isaac said in his most unctuous voice, "An urgent skin problem, sir? Necrotizing fasciitis of the genitals?" He did not give Sheldon a chance to reply, but punched the numbers that transferred the call to his parents' bedroom.

A short while later, as the family left the house for church, Graham Williams asked, "Isaac, in your past wanderings around town have you heard anything about a Muslim organization called the -- what was it -- Nadul Umat Islam?"

Isaac pretended to think for a few steps while frantically trying to get his heart to beating again. "No," he said, "not really."

"They held a rally in the town square this afternoon that turned violent."

"Really? Gee."

"Some anti-American rhetoric. Screeching for heads -- "

"Graham," Mary said.

Isaac asked, "But everything's okay now?" His worry wasn't so much for Wonobo's peace as it was for his own. Did his father know he'd been at the square?

"It seems to be." Graham smiled and rubbed Isaac's head. "In fact, it is. Let's forget about it, and enjoy the service."

Copyright © 2004 by Richard Lewis