“Belief,” said Siri. “Or should I say, misbelief. In many ways the young men feel they’ve failed in their duties as protectors of the family. They find themselves away from their support network. They don’t have access to the shaman or to their village spirits or their ancestors. All those paths you could take in stressful times are closed. It makes them more susceptible to the malevolent spirits that have hitched a ride with them.”

“But Far’s nephew didn’t go anywhere.”

“But his family did and they took their beliefs with them. He felt he’d failed them by not going with them. He was left alone with the widow ghost who sucks out men’s souls when they’re sleeping. The Hmong call her tsog tsuam. In the beginning, she might make appearances like a movie extra in his dream. She’ll have the role of a waitress or a passerby. But then he’ll notice her . . . expect to see her. And with every dream she becomes more prominent. He tries not to sleep but can’t fight it. He’s heard about her from his friends. He knows she’s only interested in young men, so he goes to bed dressed as a woman to trick her. But, by then, it’s often too late.”

“How does . . . how could she kill them?” Daeng asked.

“The boys believe that she crushes their chests while they sleep. In the dream they’re dead, and it’s so convincing there is no point in breathing anymore. The spirit then takes the soul as a memento. She exists in many cultures with many names. But when you peel away her disguises and wipe off her makeup it always comes down to that one, same antagonist: phibob, the evil spirit that’s responsible for most of the damage done to man’s mind.”

Siri tugged at the cord around his neck and pulled out the talisman from under his T-shirt.

“Feel this,” he said.

“It’s hot,” she said.

“They feel threatened by this kind of talk,” said Siri. “We have ours housetrained for the moment. But they continue to live on in the minds of thousands of lonely men around the world.”

“How can you fight anything like that?” Daeng asked.

“I think I have an idea,” said Siri. “I could—”

Daeng screamed and let go of the amulet.

“Hot?” Siri asked.

“I have an imaginary blister,” said Daeng.

“Good, then it seems they know what I’m thinking. I’ve touched a nerve.”

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Darts and Balloons

“I have so much gas in me Madam Nong has to tie a rope round my ankle and hold on to it so I don’t float away,” said Civilai.

“Yes, I’m sure we’re all fascinated by your flatulence stories,” said Siri.