Peter stepped off the second helicopter into another world. They had landed in the front yard of the main plantation house. Tall, proud trees, that bore no resemblance to anything he was familiar with in the states, shaded the old plantation house. Even in the last light of day, he could see the mix of Western sturdiness in its two-story façade, squared windows and clapboard sides, enhanced with Asian details of ornate railings on the full-length porch, curlicues of the archway above the main entrance, and swooping lines to the roof. The siding shone a cheerful yellow. The roof was of dark, weather-worn wood shingle. What must have been a magnificent building a hundred years before had aged and grown stately rather than decayed.
He also couldn’t help but notice the immense quiet as he dra
