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The Weary Traveller by Anna M
Friday, November 17, 2006
Not rated by the Author.
Things aren't always what they seem....
The relentless rain poured into the muggy night. Trees creaked, accompanied by a rustling undercurrent of leaves. Swaying branches threatened to knock me over, bringing me face to face with wriggling earthworms in the thick mud. So I trod carefully, boots heavying, should have been there two hours ago.
Thunder rolled continuosly across the sky like a train, chasing lighting into the moist valley below. Feet weary, cheeks cold and the fog setting in, I trugded on up the slope. As I came to a clearing, I could see smoke, pouring out of a chimney and fusing with the mist. The old wooden guesthouse stood alone on the mountaintop, barely visible except for a dim light glowing from within. I could feel it's cosyness drawing me in as my stomach conjoured images of a roast dinner set upon a candlelit table.
Holding the soggy map in my gloves, it became obvious to me, that I would not make it to my intended village tonight, for it lay at least another two miles along the pathway. It was the third day of my trek and feeling exhausted in the morning, I had gotten off to a late start.
As I reached the top of the mountain, the building looked smaller than I had anticipated at a distance. Clouds and steam rose to meet me, my head visioning a soft pillow to rest on. Owls serenaded my final steps, while fire flies showed me to the door. I took a moment to read the entrance sign by moonlight. 'Peace and Friendship Lodge - Come as a guest, leave as a friend' I knocked twice and waited. Although trekkers were numbered in the area, due to the off-peak season, the atmosphere was much quieter than my previous lodgings.
At last a woman came to the door. She was slight in stature, with black wavy hair draped over her shawl and sari. Attempting to smile timidly, her face had a lonely, sorrowful appearance and I remember clearly those eyes looking at me. They were like that of a lost and frightened child with a tearful gaze which made me pause momentarily, before asking if there was a room available.
" Yes" she said quietly as she beckoned me down the darkened hall to a small dining room on the right. This must have been where I had seen the light from down the mountainside, as two oil lamps lit the room one on each table. The room smelt of kerosine and masala and I felt relieved to be inside from the stormy night.
" Please have a seat, I'll bring you some lentils and rice".
As I threw off my rucksac and sunk my weight onto one of the benches, I felt my tired muscles unwind almost instantly. After some time the woman walked back into the room, and gently placed a plate of food infront of me. She seemed somehow alittle more contented and composed than earlier, as she introduced herself.
" I am Anita and this is my daughter Pema"
A little, wide eyed girl stood in the doorway watching intently as she chewed her fingers.
" If you have any problem my husband and I sleep in the last room up the stairs. Here is your room key for the same floor and the cost will be 300 rupees including breakfast."
" O.K, thankyou very much" I replied. With that I took the key and gave her the money.
" What about other guests? Do you have any?" I inquired.
" Sleeping. Goodnight" she whispered and with that she left, gently guiding her daughter out by the elbow, and I could hear their voices and footsteps heading up the stairs. Exhausted, I finished my meal and headed to bed taking my rucksac and a lamp with me. The upstairs hall seemed to be made up of bamboo walls and a wooden roof, onto which the fading rain pattered.
My room simply consisted of two single beds, a small dresser and a little window looking out into the darkness. It was not long before I drifted into a deep slumber.
I awoke abruptly, sweating, dry mouthed and panicked. My heart was palpitating furiously inside my chest and I remained disorientated. Could it have been a dream? I threw off my sheets and lept out of bed. I had to check if that shrill scream and shouting I had just heard so vividly, was real. I unbolted my door and peered out into the silent hallway. I remained for a moment, catching my breath, looking up and down at all the other closed doors. It was drafty and I got back into bed shivering and confused. I could not keep my eyes open for long and I drifted back off to sleep.
The next morning when I had finally responded to my alarm, had a cold shower, packed and crawled downstairs- the dinning hall was empty yet again. The view from the glass sheet windows ,however, erased my tiredness, for there was a panorama of colours sweeping over the valley below. The sun radiated across the mountains signalling a new day as eagles glided basking in it's light. After sitting and taking it all in for twenty minutes, and not a soul in sight, I gave up on the idea of breakfast, and steadied my way down the other side of the mountain. Hiking along, up and down the pathway, the fresh air renewed my system as I passed pine trees, birds and a waterfall. It wasn't so long before I was in the next valley, entering my intended destination of last night, the village of 'Tal'. Just off the pathway were some tables outside a cafe looking onto a river, surround by luscious green vegetation. Here I sat down and ordered some scrambled eggs on toast with coffee. Some folk music was blaring out on a radio and it seemed to echo through the whole valley amoungst the sound of children playing and chickens squawking.
The young waiter handed me my breakfast and asked me where I was from and if I was enjoying my trek. To which I answered that I was enormously and grateful to have the opportunity.
My disturbed sleep of the night before almost seemed a million miles away until, on bringing out my coffee, the waiter asked
" Where did you stay last night? It's very early to be reaching Tal. The last guesthouse before here is a long way away."
" Oh no, not really" I responded. " I stayed in a place, a couple miles back, called ' Peace and Friendship Lodge' at the top of the last mountain."
As I tucked into my food, I saw the young man's face drop in horror. I stopped chewing and looked up at him.
" I'm sorry but you must have made a mistake. There used to be a 'Peace and Friendship Lodge' on that mountain, but it burnt down one year ago. The place went up in flames very quickly and no-one survived. It's very sad, amoung the dead were afew travellers and the young family who ran the lodge,- a lovely couple called Anita and Binu and their young daughter."
Copyright. 2006 Anna Marshall
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Reviewed by Adrienne Lauby
7/6/2007
I love the setting, the name: "Peace and Friendship Lodge", and the description of the child and the woman. All have the texture of reality. The plot twist is a familiar ghost type. There must be a way to spice it up. How about having the waiter be the grown daughter who escaped the fire. That also makes it easy to lead into another story about the daughter's life-- one I'd love to read.
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