A moment of calm, thunder, then soaking rain fell. A strong breeze blew into my face, as curtains of rain fell pushing waves of rain that made my bones shiver. Rushing waters in some rapids gurgled next to me.
The path below my feet had turned into some wet morass. In the gloom of the downpour I could recognize an opening ahead, the very edge of the jungle. I crossed the parking lot of the Lambir Park and headed for the restaurant, which was nothing but an open wooden hut. Wood fire smoke came out of the roof and mixed with the rain. Some birds were singing a soft tune. It smelled Nasi, oily vegetables and fresh fruit. Some tiny sparrows had taken refuge from the rain, and were now scavenging the floor for discarded rice grains under my table.
I was hungry and wanted my clothes to be dry. I took seat on an empty table, emptied my bag and draped my wet coat over the remaining plastic chairs.
On a table opposite sat a couple of young ladies. The lady to the right was in her early thirties, green-gray shorts and T-shirt, and fairly strongly built for an Asian, with large, sensual lips. It almost made her look African. How wonderful would it feel to caress her full lips and kiss her lancet-shaped eyes and full thigh?
Next to her sat a lady in her early twenties, orange cotton shirts, short panties and long, pretty legs. She barely looked Asian, rather Caucasian, as do some of the natives here in Borneo.
I watched the ladies through my half-closed eyes. What a wonderful couple of gals, I thought. I wished I could make love with both of them, deeply, passionately, and bring them to heaven. A wave of desire reached my head.
The lady to the right smiled at me as if she had read my mind.
Finally a bowl of steaming noodle soup, and my order of Nasi Rendang arrived. Its wonderful taste and my hungry stomach refocused my attention for a while. But then the lady to the right stood up, walked to the counter. I enjoyed her real woman silhouette. Then she turned toward me, watched me through semi-closed eyes, and smiled.
“I’ am Maureen, “ she said. “This is my card with my phone number. Call me when you are in town.” Then she turned around, and walked with the other lady toward the parking lot. My eyes followed the gals.
“You lucky guy,” said the waiter. “Got one nice new girl friend or perhaps even two.”
He laughed and shook his head. I felt good, and a bit proud of myself.
The rain stopped. I drove back to town, and there I called Maureen.
“Where are you now,” she asked.
“In the center of town, at the Park Hotel.”
“Give me ten minutes. I’ll pick you up,” said Maureen.
I waited for a while. Then I saw her arriving, together with the other young lady. She pulled the car in, stopped it and opened the window.
“Thanks for coming, and good to see you again, Maureen, so quickly, “ I said.
“This is Sally,” said Maureen, introducing the other lady in orange.
“Let me follow you with my car.”
Maureen and Sally’s place turned out to be one of the many massage parlors in town. The kind of place you get a good body massage and a bit more for a few extra bucks. Here we go again, I told myself.
I followed the ladies to the first floor, half out of politeness, and half pulled along by desire. Maureen took me to the massage room.
“So, you want me to give you massage,” she asked me and gave me a broad, cheeky smile.
“No, I want to make love with you.”
I took her in my arms, and we kissed for a long time, and with great passion. Then we undressed and I took her as she was. She turned out to be a wonderful, steamy and generous lover, and we felt just great. We relaxed, and she massed my neck. When she asked me to make love to her once more I understood that her interest in me wasn’t entirely commercial, at least. She obviously did enjoy it.
‘Don’t tell Sally I made love to you,” she said.
I didn’t say anything, of course. I hate gossip.
I left Maureen and went back to the main room. There I met Sally. Leaning on the leather couch she looked so fresh and sexy. She smiled at me and I asked her if she had time for me. She nodded, and guided me to one of the little rooms. Sally turned out to be a good kisser, and a passionate lover, too. Barely recharged, I spent another two happy hours with her.
“Don’t think bad of me,” she told me. “I never do this with anyone, please believe me.”
Be it as it may, I thought. I nodded, but didn’t quite believe her. I stroked her sweet face and lovely brown hair, and looked into her hazel eyes. Then I paid and left.
What a strange day, I mused. Never in my life before had erotic wishes come true so quickly and so satisfactory. Forget money and career, or your shining Mercedes-Lexus. Nothing in this world matches the brutal masculine satisfaction of attracting the love of a charming lady or two. That’s what joy-of-life is all about, raw, vibrant pleasure. I needed to cool down, and went to the public swimming pool. I had a long swim and contemplated on my strange luck.
I saw Maureen again, three days later on Wednesday. I went to her parlor.
“I really love you,” she said. “Since we have met I hardly could sleep.”
She took me by the hand, and guided me in a small room, with a large mattress on the ground. There was hardly any light in the room, and it felt cozy. She wanted me immediately, and we spent two hours kissing and making love. Then she said:
“You wonder why I accepted to make love with you so quickly? Don’t get a wrong impression! I’m not an easy massage girl!”
“So, tell my why,” I asked.
“ It’s because of the Queen Cobra, “ whispered Maureen. “"She is half of mine, and owns my right eye. Sometimes she makes me see through my third eye, on the front of my head. My other side is the Mountain Queen, the ‘Putri-Gunung-Li-Dang’. Sometimes they transmit messages to me. In fact, I am what they call a ‘Naga’. Half of me belongs to this human world, my other half is a powerful snake spirit.”
Things came to my mind I had been watching or reading a long time ago. I visualized the Queen of Egypt, with her crown and the snake on the forehead. I thought about the secrete Buddhist doctrines, that Lord Buddha had hidden in the realm of the Naga snake-spirits, and about Arya Nagarjuna, the great saint of old India, sheltered by cobras, author of several outstanding essays on meditation and profound comments of the Path-of-Enlightenment.
“On that other day, under the rain, when I had lunch on the terrace, the Mountain Queen called me. She talked to me about you. She said that you are a very good man, and that you are a person of some special, uncommon power, too. That’s why I came to your table and gave you my card. That’s why I gave myself to you. ”
“How does the Mountain Queen look like,” I asked Maureen.
“You tell me,” she replied giggling.
I stretched out on the mattress, closed my eyes and contemplated.
“ Ok, let me try. She is tall, with long black shiny hair, giving frame to a beautiful, elongated face. She wears a white cotton dress and a necklace made from seashells. “
Maureen gave me a puzzled look. “How come you know her?”
“I just followed my intuition,” I said. “Perhaps I can see, too.”
“Be careful,” said Maureen, “ the Mountain Queen is very powerful. The water and rivers belong to her. I belong to her, too.”
We kissed for a long time, and made love once more. Then my time was up. I paid for the massage, and left Maureen’s barbershop. It was getting dark. The road was empty. I walked over to the Chinese temple, adorned with red paper lights, candles and incense, then strolled through the empty fish market, where hungry dogs and cats were hunting for the smelly remnants of the fading day. I felt puzzled about my experience. Maureen’s story haunted me. I had to find out everything about her, every bit. I was deeply thrilled.
I met Maureen again on Saturday. I brought her to my apartment, and we spent the night together. After a simple breakfast we took the road back to Lambir. It was a sunny day, but not too hot for a day in the tropics. We listened to my collection of tango music, as jungle and palm plantations passed by. Maureen massed my hand, then my neck, and fed me with krupuk chips.
At the park we headed for the large Latak waterfall, a mile of walk away. We had to climb a path that led along a small river, cascading in a series of waterfalls and rapids. The Latak fall is 35 feet high, and fills a deep cool pond, some fifteen feet deep. We dropped our bags in at a small forest hut, equipped with a few benches and a barbecue table.
“You go swimming first,” said Maureen. That’s what I did. Floating on my back on the jungle pond I saw her disappearing in the forest above the clearing. What was she doing up there? I took my time and enjoyed the wonderful crisp and refreshing water. Sparkling glimpses of sunlight fell through a wall of ferns and redwood trees, far above of the mossy rock front and the waterfall. I lay on the cool, mellow water surface and enjoyed the sound of the thundering water, and the refreshing airwaves it caused. I saw Maureen coming back, in the distance. I wanted to be with her, and swam back.
She sat on the bench and chewed on one of the broiled chicken legs we had bought along the way from town. I noticed Maureen’s right eye was blood-reddened and swollen.
“What happened to your eye,” I asked with an innocent voice. But Maureen shook her head and didn’t answer. I left her alone, and picked another chicken leg, while observing my strange, wonderful, and interesting girl.
“I visited the Cobra Queen,” she whispered. “You saw me walk to the forest, right?”
“ This place belongs to Her. She told me that I have seven sister Nagas that live at the bottom of the pond. You have to ask them for permission, if you want to swim there. Many people have drowned in that pond. At least ten, fifteen people. If you swim there without permission, and if you are weak, the Great Naga takes your life away.”
“You might have told me this earlier,” I mused. “Anyhow, I’m always offer whatever nice there comes to my mind,” I said. “We Buddhists are not encouraged to glue to nice mental pictures. We always offer water, food, love, in fact anything that is enjoyable and attracts our mind. I hope this is ok with your Nagas, too.”
Maureen nodded but didn’t say anything.
After a while, her eye turned white again, and she joined me for another swim at the pond of the Naga spirits.
As we left the water, she looked at me with semi-closed eyes, and said: “I’ m not sure you understand. I love you so much.”
At noon we headed home, in my old Mitsu Pajero. We didn’t talk much. She kept caressing my left hand, when I didn’t have to push a gear. I quite liked her. Or did I love her? She was a good woman, with many great qualities and a lot of strength - regardless of her Cobra spirit.
What was ahead? With that pretty, unusual and charming lady on my side, I felt strangely safe and deeply connected to the powers of this secret, invisible underworld. With her help, and her protection nothing could ever harm me. Perhaps my time had come …to explore for the precious jewel of the ultimate mysterious truth, the hidden resourceful blessings of Mother Earth.
© 2004 by Franz L Kessler
