He wiped away his tears and took the picture from me. His hand was shaking badly. He shook his head.

“I’ve been searching since it happened…I’ve looked everywhere…everywhere.”

“I just arrived, a few hours ago. I don’t even know where to look.”

“Have you been to the message boards?” he asked. “That’s where you should start.”

“I saw one at the airport in Bangkok. Are there boards here?”

“Yes, yes, there are boards and lists. You need to go and look.”

“Where do I go?”

“Up the hill. Do you know where the temple is?”

“Yes. I’ve been there before.”

“There are messages there from survivors, lots of messages. I’ve even seen people reunited right there, each looking for the other.”

That sounded now like the kind of miracle I could only pray for.

“And there are pictures,” he added.

“You mean, like, pictures of family members? I only have this copy.”

He hesitated. “No, the pictures…they’ve posted pictures of the people they’ve already buried.”

“Buried? What do you mean?”

“Some of the bodies have already been buried,” he said. “The heat…disease…they had no choice but to put them in the ground. They took pictures of the people they couldn’t identify. The pictures are all posted. It’s mainly foreigners, tourists. It’s awful, but I had to look at them. My wife wasn’t there…thank God, she wasn’t there.”

It seemed like such a small thing to be grateful for now—to find that your family’s names were not on the list of the dead and buried—especially compared to the reunion I’d been hoping for. But hope was the key word—I couldn’t give up now.

“Many people have been taken to hospitals and medevac clinics,” he told me. “I’m going to check them next.”

“Maybe I should go with you.”

“No. The hospital is not close. You have to try close first. I’d go with you…I’d bring you, but I have to keep looking.” He took both of my hands in his. “You’ll find your family, and I’ll find my wife. We have to keep looking, we can’t give up.”

I nodded and tried to fight back tears. He let go of my hands and walked away. I didn’t know exactly where he was going, but I knew where I had to go.

—

The walk up the hill to the temple was tiring. I stopped on the way and ate two of the energy bars Steve had given me and drank an entire bottle of water. It was hot and humid, and I was thirsty and hungry, but I really needed to sit down and think. Everything I’d seen was swirling around in my head. How could all of this, how could any of this be real?

Up the road there were message boards that might hold the key, tell me where my family was, what had happened to them, for better or worse, and now, with the hilltop almost in sight, I hesitated. I guess it was almost better to believe there was a chance than to go and find out that all hope was gone. But to stay here, on the road, and not go any farther made about as much sense as simply staying in New York. Maybe less.