One More Time (9 page)

‘There you go,’ I said after I’d written on the paper. ‘That’s my address in Ireland, and my phone number.
When this trek is over and I’ve gone back home—maybe in three months, I made a wild guess—you contact me and I’ll see what I can do for you, okay?’

Appalling as his situation was, giving him my address, I knew, was more of an easy gesture than a real promise—like throwing a few coins and then walking on by.

The familiar blue rooftops indicating Tadapani looked dull under the overcast sky but were still a welcome sight.

‘It looks quite near.’ From where we stood, the town looked about forty-five minutes’ walk away.

‘Two hours.’ He pointed. ‘We go down first, and then all the way back up.’

I shook my head. So close, yet so far away! The network of forest was so dense that there was no definition of contours; the lower levels of the valley were indistinguishable, camouflaged. I imagined a huge bridge across the valley. That would save some steps!

We started off once again, a light drizzle now encouraging the leeches to emerge. They seemed to sneak up on you when you least expected it. Walking along you’d suddenly feel a slight tingle at a point on your body and on investigation you were guaranteed to find one—generally stuck tight to your skin with one
end buried deep into your flesh, sucking blood relentlessly. They never seemed to bother Mani though; then again they hardly went near him. I too had been quite lucky but with the arrival of rain it was becoming clear that leeches had a fondness for Irish blood.

But as much as leeches made things difficult, the drizzle was also quite pleasant—like the gentle rain, back home in Ireland.

I thought about sitting in the living room looking out the window one day when I was about sixteen, gazing into the backyard. It was midday, but it could as easily have been close to nightfall, the way the cloud cover had extinguished the sun’s light. Rain was gently tip-tapping on the window.

‘What a terrible day,’ Dad suddenly said as he entered the room.

I looked up, embarrassed to see him. ‘I don’t think we’ve had a summer this year,’ I said.

Dad had the newspaper in his hand. He sat down on the couch close to me and we were silent for the next few minutes.

Eventually I said, ‘Sorry about last night!’

Dad had been waiting for me to say it all day and perhaps that was why he had come into the room. The previous night he had caught me mid-ritual. I hadn’t
noticed him come into my room because I had my eyes closed—but when I opened them I was paralysed by the expression on his face.

‘Do you do this often?’ he’d said, dismayed.

I had been trying desperately to complete a prayer for about ten minutes. Had Dad witnessed it all?

‘No!’ I became angry and defensive.

‘So what’s going on then? You’ve been standing there for ages doing the same thing over and over again! Talk to me—tell me what this is all about! Is this another outbreak of your OCD?’

Dad was always such a caring father, but on that day I wasn’t having it.

‘Forget it, Dad, there’s nothing wrong. Mind your own business. Just mind your own business!’ And I’d stormed out like a spoilt kid. So here he was, acknowledging my apology with a gentle grin and presumably still wondering what madness possessed his son. But he said nothing. I had hurt him, I knew.

After about forty-five minutes’ walking we reached the centre of the valley. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ I exclaimed.

A gentle stream meandered slowly beneath a broken old bridge and all around towered trees of every shape and size. Under their canopy, it was as though we’d
entered a forgotten place; deathly still but, in a strange way, peaceful.

‘Phew, we got down here fast enough,’ I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

‘But now come the hard part.’ Mani pointed a finger towards the track, which began again on the other side of the bridge. It was dramatically steep. Before long both of us were reduced to an uninspired pace. With that came the monotony. Then, as always, came the thoughts.

I bet they’re really pissed off.

Frustrated by this guilt creeping up on me again, I shook my head, hoping that the thought would subside and crawl back to where it had come from. It didn’t.

Up and leaving like that, without any reason. They must have been worried sick.

I fought back, rubbing my fingers abrasively over each other, getting horribly upset.

I’ve told you, I’m not thinking about this. There was nothing else for me to do at the time. If I stayed, God knows what could have happened!

I paused and then continued, vexed.

No, that’s a load of crap. Nothing would ever have happened. I would have done myself in before hurting anyone else. I’m not talking about this bullshit any
more. I called home when I was in India and everyone’s cool, they understand.

I tried to distract myself by concentrating on each step on the muddy trail. The rain that had threatened since we set off had increased from drizzle to a light shower and the cool evening air was settling in fast. Even though I was sweating from the climb, the rainfall was icy and I was shivering as I walked. But we’d advanced about halfway up the incline already. That’s when we heard the roar.

‘Where did that come from?’ I whispered, catching up with Mani’s stock-still form. A second roar echoed in the distance and both of us swung around.

‘Over there!’ Mani pointed fearfully towards the opposite side of the steep valley which we had just ascended. ‘Very hard to see.’

There was just a wallpaper of trees. Suddenly a slight movement caught my eye. It was in a clearing about twenty minutes’ walk behind us.

‘It’s…’ Mani squinted into the distance. ‘It’s Akio!’ He instantly became alarmed. ‘Can you see? It’s Akio.’

‘No way—is it?’ My heart began to thump as I tried to identify the figure standing in the centre of the clearing. It was a man alright, but he had his
back to me. ‘Turn around,’ I cried. ‘Let me see who you are.’

‘We should stay quiet,’ warned Mani.

But as though he’d heard, the man turned suddenly, erratically; it
was
Akio. Instinctively I leapt out of view, concealing myself behind a tree, avoiding the gaze which Akio fixed in our direction.

‘Oh shit,’ I whispered. ‘He’s in danger.’ Clearly Akio was in trouble, he didn’t even have his backpack any longer.

‘Must be the Maoist,’ replied Mani. ‘I think we must go away from here. I think we go fast!’

Mani couldn’t conceal his fear, but now I couldn’t hide my curiosity. Crawling to an area of greater cover I gazed down once more, watching Akio’s every movement. He’d started running again, his small form barely visible as it zigzagged in and out of clearings and down the mountainside.

‘Come, Sean!’ Mani tugged hard on my arm. ‘We must go. We stay and maybe Maoist come for us too.’

These words jolted me into action. The Maoists were the last people that I wanted to meet again.

Mani led the way—much faster than in all the time I’d known him. The track was slippery, wet and forever uphill. We powered on as if we had all the
energy in the world and only a short time to use it. Every few metres I would look back, partly out of worry for myself, but mainly out of concern for Akio.

The stupid idiot, I thought, walking frantically. He just couldn’t keep his mouth shut and give them some fucking money. Selfish bastard! He’d made life difficult for everybody.

I began to drop back a little from Mani. Suddenly we entered another clearing and I was compelled to stop for another look. At first there was nothing to see. Then, from out of nowhere, three people dashed into view and back into the depths of the forest. They were moving fast and weren’t too far behind us.

Please Holy God, please protect Mam, Dad
…

I began reciting aloud, the words running from my mouth on their own as I searched for another glimpse of Akio.

…
and please protect Mani and me and
—

Akio’s name came into my mind, a clawing requirement to include him or the prayer wouldn’t be correct and therefore he’d be in even greater danger than he already faced. I was angry with him, though. I had to include him but I didn’t want to; my praying couldn’t help him, he’d brought this on himself.

How could you possibly wish him harm? If something happens to him it’s all your fault. Dear Holy God
…

I tried to push the hostility to the back of my mind, then suddenly Akio appeared again and I was distracted from the prayer without Akio’s name being successfully included.

He had come out into a patch of open space through which I could see the bridge we’d passed over earlier. He looked confused and frightened. It seemed as though he was deciding what to do next, where to run or where to hide—but he was deciding too slowly. From behind him, the three men emerged into view. A barrage of frantic prayers bludgeoned my mind. I wanted to yell out to Akio—
Run!
But no words left my mouth. My mind was too occupied to release my tongue for anything other than prayers.

Mani shouted at me,
‘Come,
Sean, you must hurry, you in big danger.’

His words startled me, broke me away from my thoughts. I didn’t move though, I was glued to the spot. What was taking place in the valley a little way below was too terrifying detach myself from.

The three men circled Akio, each brandishing weapons, each poised and moving aggressively. The
first blow landed hard across Akio’s face, throwing him almost weightlessly to the ground. I was too far away to see for certain, but something made me think that the first to deliver a punch was Raja.

Akio began to scramble to his feet, his hands pressed hard against his bloody face, his body looking weak and vulnerable.

Dear Holy God, please protect…dear Holy God please protect Mam, Dad…dear Holy God
…Say Akio, say Akio…Get it right!

I started over and over again. New additions always had to be placed at the end of the prayer—but since I wasn’t getting that far without having to start again, each new start was becoming more frantic, more desperate, and I still hadn’t included Akio.

A swift hard kick from one of the other men toppled again with ease. His body squirmed. Clearly he was in excruciating pain.

Dear Holy God.

I started reciting loudly, closing my eyes tightly, eliminating any distractions, anything that might prevent me from completing the prayer and helping Akio!

‘Come!’

I leapt back startled again. Mani had returned to get me.

‘They’re going to kill Akio!’ I pointed to the clearing below. ‘Shit! Where has he gone?’ I scanned in every direction. ‘They’ve all disappeared, where are they?’

‘Come, we must run. I think maybe soon
bang bang!’

Just as Mani finished speaking there was a loud blast, swiftly followed by two more.

‘Gunshots?’ I cried.

Mani nodded.

‘For Godsake! Do you think he’s dead?’

‘I think so,’ he replied. ‘Maybe! We must run, I think they looking for us too!’

Panic-driven, I jumped once again to my feet. My hands were shaking feverishly and for a moment I didn’t know what to do. Mani grabbed hold of me and once again dragged me in the direction of Tadapani village.

The next hour followed in a blur of fear, exhaustion, confusion and anxiety. Each step no longer felt like agony, it felt like escape, with no option of turning back. Mani walked rapidly, flushed red, the sound of his heavy breathing accompanying each impatient step. He looked more like a machine than a man hauling a backpack on his shoulders.

I pounded behind in a daze. Still none of the prayers were reaching completion and my mind told me that I was to blame for what had happened to Akio. I knew it was ridiculous to be thinking like that but, as always, the grinding guilt outweighed any form of rational thinking.

Dear Holy God
…Fuck! It’s my fault, it’s my fault.

‘Tadapani,’ Mani gasped as he pointed up ahead.

It was like somebody had just turned on the light in an otherwise darkened room and suddenly everything became clear again. We were close to collapse, but seeing Tadapani lifted our spirits and we focused on reaching the end. As we surfaced from the confines of the forest into the open space of the village, the rain fell more heavily than it had all afternoon.

Finally we reached the sheltered decking of the Everest Lodge. Mani threw the backpack to one side and himself alongside it. Lying flat on his back, he struggled to catch his breath, until at last his panting settled to a steady wheeze. I remained standing for a short while, reminded of gym, at school, where we were always told it was best to calm your breathing while still standing—a strange way to be thinking after the ordeal of the day. Finally I stretched out beside Mani.

‘How are you feeling?’ I mumbled at last.

Mani remained silent for a while, his mind some place else. Finally he answered, ‘Mani not so bad, tired I think. Sad also.’

‘I can’t believe what happened to Akio. It was—’

Mani interrupted me. ‘Tonight we eat and then sleep, not stay awake for long. Maoist might come here tonight, safer for us to sleep, maybe Maoist not see us.’

Poor Mani. He was pale in the face, he was worried and he was sick. And I worried for his livelihood. Would the Maoists hold him responsible? Would he be able to take future treks through this country?

‘Do you think Akio
is
dead?’

‘If he has luck like Mani, yes!’

He rose to his feet and disappeared through a door at the end of the creaky decking. I remained alone, deep in my thoughts, surprisingly comforted now by the sound of the rainfall.

Dear Holy God
…

I spoke slowly, aloud, pronouncing each word precisely and with definition.

…
please protect Mam, Dad, John, Sarah and Sam, Benji and Rusty, all my friends and relatives, Mani and
…

I couldn’t do it.

‘Shit!’ I roared aloud in anger. ‘Damn you, Akio. Damn, damn, damn.
Akio
is your name,
Akio.
How hard is that to say? Holy God, if Akio’s not dead, look after him for fucksake and while you’re doing it, give me a fucking break.’