by Mark Green
* *
JC
Later that afternoon we arrived on Isla Del Sol, where the Incas believed the sun had been born. I thanked Javier and gave him a hundred Boliviano note, waving aside his offer of change. We also left him with the remains of the food and water from our breakfast for the long journey home. I watched his small muscular silhouette row the boat away from the shore as the sun crept towards the horizon over the glistening water and felt my enthusiasm soar. What an amazing experience!
The thousand steps to the top of the island were steep, but all in a day’s work to Machu Picchu veterans like us.
We passed through neat terracing, segregated into shades of yellow, green and turquoise and saw a beautifully tended herb garden. Its small paths connected neat sections of shrubs, with much care and nurturing in evidence.
I remember marvelling at my fitness as we climbed the steps. I’d never have made such short work of them without Angel’s regular runs. I no longer had my office tummy and didn’t run out of puff after a flight of stairs. It amused me to think of all the fad diets people try and mostly fail at, when all they had to do was come travelling!
We reached the top after forty-five minutes to see a gorgeous view opening up. The back of the island looked out over an endless horizon of flat calm water, sheltered from the wind. Smaller islands dotted the water, peppered with clusters of village shacks. We found a room for the night with a rickety bed, bare floorboards and a balcony that looked out over the lake. It was basic, chilly and perfect.
We dumped our bags, put a few layers back on as the sun began dropping below the horizon and headed for the local ‘cafe’ which was a handful of log tables and tree stump stools that looked out over the lake. The view was spectacular, like looking out over an endless volcanic crater, filled with water, the rugged far shore just visible through the lingering low cloud.
I described the shifting colours of the setting sun against this magical backdrop and we drank cold beer as the world stopped for an hour.
All too often in life I thought, we’re rarely aware of a turning point until it’s passed us by. Then we look back and think, oh yeah, that’s when things really changed. From the moment we’d left the hotel room to dye our hair, we’d triggered a change of direction and I was fortunate enough to realise it was happening. Right now.
I shut my eyes to enjoy the sensation, knowing that when it passed, things would never be quite the same again.
* *
Angel
I could still feel JC there, despite his companionable silence. My instinct told me not to say anything, let him enjoy the moment on his own. So I sipped my beer and allowed my mind to wander too.
So much had happened over the past few years and I found myself enjoying some time to reflect without criticising myself. And who would have thought I’d end up here? I shook my head, amazed to be sipping cold Bolivian beer with JC, two miles up in the clouds, far away from home, but without feeling lonely.
As I sat there thinking about my feelings towards him, I became aware of voices approaching. The different accents suggested three Irish guys and two girls, one English. I couldn’t place the other accent.
“I say good luck to them. They must have been offered a big pile of cash, but they still chose to take off on their own,” said the English voice.
“Nah, they’re an urban myth. They don’t really exist. There’ll be some kind of advertising spin on it.”
“Don’t be daft. I saw the advert on eBay. A friend of a friend applied.”
The voices were getting closer. They passed to our right and parked themselves at a nearby table.
“Jesus, what a beautiful view.”
“Which is exactly the reason it’s an urban myth — what’s to see for someone who’s blind?” said a male voice, very close to us.
I froze, kicking myself for daring to believe we’d escaped.
“We’ll be fine, just trust me and try to appear normal,” whispered JC.
“Try to be normal yourself, man from Krypton!” I whispered back, the humour helping to calm me down. I slipped on the dark glasses and took another swig from my beer as we listened to the conversation developing at the adjacent table.
“I don’t believe they managed to escape the press. I mean, if the girl really is blind, how could they possibly manage it? They’d stick out like a sore thumb.”
There seemed general agreement to this observation and I allowed myself a secret smile — turns out JC and I were more resourceful than we were being given credit for.
“How do you think their sex life is? Do you reckon she knows he’s a fat gawky analyst?”
“Nah, she’s probably gagging for it!”
Uh oh. I sensed JC stiffen, anger clenching his muscles. I placed a calming hand on his arm, nuzzled my head into his cheek, to appear as any other loved-up couple.
“They’re young and naive. Let’s not blow our cover,” I whispered in his ear, squeezing his arm.
“Do you think she could tell if he got a mate round to have a go too?”
“I don’t reckon so, not if he took her from behind…”
“Size boys! A woman can tell!” said a girl’s voice, joining in the male bravado.
The group laughed, and I felt my skin start to crawl. My fingers tightened around the bottle of beer. A red mist of anger descending…
“I fancy getting some food babe, you ready?” said JC in a fairly even voice. But I could tell he was still angry and trying to suppress it.
“Sure,” was all I could manage as there was another burst of laughter from the nearby table. The sexual comments were getting even more graphic, making my blood boil. I felt JC grasp my hand, leading me away.
“Nice and steady Angel, it’s a bit uneven underfoot. You’re doing a great job, they’ve not even noticed we’ve gone,” he whispered and squeezed my hand, but I was angry and didn’t acknowledge his support.
* *
JC
I’m not an aggressive bloke by any stretch of the imagination. Neither am I particularly keen on confrontation, although when I have to, I’ll dig my heels in with the best of them. But hearing those travellers talk about us like that, insulting Angel, was humiliating. It was all I could do to clench my teeth and lead us away. I reasoned that they weren’t insulting us deliberately. It was only because we were so well disguised that they were completely oblivious to our real identities. But it didn’t make it any easier to walk away from. To be honest, the strength of feeling they’d stirred up had surprised and scared me. Perhaps this was all part of the travelling, exaggerating my usually measured control of my emotions…
* *
We sat in silence in the simple restaurant, unable to make conversation. We were both still way too angry and also conscious that they could walk in at any moment; there weren’t that many places to eat on the island. It wasn’t until we got back to the hotel room and sat out on the balcony, that we were able to say anything about what had happened.
“I was ready to launch into them, it wouldn’t have been pretty,” Angel said.
“I know. Believe me I was annoyed too. But they were young, just laughing with us and at our brilliant escape.”
Angel turned to me, her face like thunder, mimicking a gruff Irish accent.
“I bet she’s better in bed for being blind, she tries harder…”
“I know, I’m sorry…”
“Sorry for what? Not beating the crap out of them? I’d have respected you more. I shouldn’t have to listen to that.”
“No. I know. But sometimes being spontaneous can be reckless. Don’t worry, I’ve something in mind for them…”
“Yeah? Well it’s too late, the moment’s gone.”
I watched her stand and feel her way around the wall for the door to the bedroom, open it, then slam it shut. I cringed.
Damn.
She was right of course. But although reacting on the spot might have sent Angel a message about my feelings for her, it would a
lso have sent us right back to square one with the press. We’d lose not only our anonymity, but also the chance to experience the rest of our trip as ordinary travellers. I slumped forwards in the chair, dropping my head into my hands. Who was I kidding, how could we ever be ordinary?
The only saving grace I had, the ace up my sleeve, was that I saw the Irish arrive earlier that afternoon and knew they were staying a few doors away. I only noticed because all five of them had piled into one room and I’d wondered about the sleeping arrangements. Now as payback I came up with a plan for early the next morning. I spent a few moments setting the alarm on my watch and allowed myself a mischievous smile. Tomorrow I’d take sweet revenge.
I might be late defending Angel’s honour, but defend it I most certainly would…
Thirty
Angel
I felt a bit bad about my outburst, but damn it, was he completely gutless?! I waited until he went to the bathroom, then crept into bed and pretended to be asleep when he came in.
I should probably have apologised and tried to talk things out, but I was still simmering and he did the right thing by saying nothing. The trouble was, his silence irritated me even more, especially as I’d gotten used to hearing his voice.
* *
I was vaguely aware of the alarm going off and remember thinking it seemed really early. It was quiet for a few minutes after JC turned it off, so I thought he’d gone back to sleep. But just as I was drifting off, he slipped out of bed and started fumbling around, presumably getting dressed.
“What’s up?” I mumbled.
“Secret mission. I’ll be back in zero three minutes.”
And before I could say anything else, he was gone. I felt a bit lost and guilty and wondered if he’d buggered off and left me after my outburst last night. For someone who was extremely independent at home, out here I was almost totally reliant on JC. I started to get a bit worried, then pinned my hope on the thought that he wouldn’t abandon me. He’d be back. And at that moment, he was!
“Brrr, cold out there Angel.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Why, did you think I wasn’t coming back?” he said, a cheeky, upbeat tone to his voice.
“No, I knew you couldn’t survive without my sparkling personality.”
I was vaguely aware of a small light beside me. Then several beeps followed, which meant he was setting his alarm for a more respectable time.
“What have you been up to?”
“Something most unchristian, Angel. I fear the Big Man would not be amused. On second thoughts, he might have a little chuckle.”
JC giggled, wriggled around a bit to get comfortable, and then went quiet.
“I think I may have been a bit hard on you last night. If I was, I’m sorry,” I said.
“You weren’t, no apology needed. See you in a couple of hours,” he said, his breathing gradually getting deeper. I lay there for a while wondering what on earth he’d been up to, but eventually drifted off, glad to have his warm body back in close proximity.
The second alarm brought brightness to the room and warmth from the sun, encouraging us out of bed to see what the new day would bring. I was desperate to ask what he’d been up to earlier, but he said nothing. So I busied myself by ducking under the ice cold shower, screeching, soaping up, and then rinsing off with more shouts. It was bloody freezing!
Conversation between us was friendly and without an atmosphere, but I knew something was amusing him. He had that playful way about him. But I wasn’t going to ask, even though it was driving me mad.
JC packed up our stuff and we were ready. I heard the door open and smelt the cool fresh air as he led me out into the sunshine.
“Okay, I can’t stand it anymore. What have you been…”
“Shhh. Grab a seat here on the balcony. Imagine the beautiful sparkling water of Lake Titicaca stretching out far below with its rugged islands and endless horizon and just listen. All will be revealed in the fullness of time…”
“You stole a book on poetry didn’t you? What has got into you…”
“Have patience, Angel.”
We sat back in the chairs, lapping up the sunshine. It was all very pleasant, but I was getting fidgety. I was hungry and desperate to know why we were waiting here. Then I heard something. It sounded like metal rattling.
“Do you hear that?” he said, a snigger in his voice.
I listened, there it was again, only louder this time, more aggressive. There was a muffled voice and a door banged in its frame.
“That’s our cue Angel, breakfast time. Don’t say a word until we sit down again, okay?”
I felt JC slip his hand in mine and off we went. The noise got louder, someone was hammering on a door from inside a room. Several Irish voices shouted out in anger and frustration. JC led me down some steps into a warm room where he guided me into a chair.
“Did you hear that Angel? That was the sound of sweet revenge. The locks on the rooms here are a bit unusual. If I say to you hasp and padlock on the outside, do you know what I mean?”
I nodded, still confused.
“One of the items I took from your big rucksack, was a padlock. Maria must have packed it thinking it might come in handy. Well, I found the perfect use for it. I’ve locked the Irish in their room. I even left some cash rolled up in the hasp for the hotel owner’s trouble in removing it!”
JC started sniggering again. It took me a moment to catch on, then I giggled, but quickly stopped when JC pressed his finger to my lips. It quietened me down, but also felt kind of erotic. It was difficult not to laugh over breakfast, so JC settled up and we left, scurrying away like two mischievous school kids.
“Are we a safe distance away yet?” I asked.
“Yup. Ready?”
We both exploded into fits of laughter, which continued all the way down the thousand steps to the tourist ferry back to Copacabana.
* *
JC
That little prank set us up for the day. The Irish didn’t make the 9:30am ferry with us, but I set any guilty pangs aside by reasoning that they’d asked for it. Perhaps in future they’d be a bit more respectful.
“Feck! Some fecking feck has fecking locked us in! The feckers!” Angel whispered in my ear over and over again, pulling me close to her so I felt her hot breath on my cheek. Funny as it was, her mouth nuzzling up to whisper in a fake Irish accent was starting to push my buttons.
I’d almost forgotten that we had to start being vigilant again as the boat chugged into Copacabana. The hour and a half journey from Isla Del Sol had flown by.
“Back in character Angel, sunglasses on. I’ll squeeze your hand once for a step up, twice for down and I’ll pull your hand left or right to turn. Okay?” I said, reminding both of us of the silent code we’d been practising.
“Oh yeah, back to reality,” she said, squeezing my hand as we followed other passengers off the boat.
We had an hour or so to kill before the tourist bus to the capital, La Paz. I was tempted to head for an internet café, but I decided not to risk it. We could do all that in La Paz, where we’d easily lose ourselves.
As we walked up from the port I glanced around the street to see stalls of handmade crafts and jewellery. I slowed down, prompting Angel to glance up at me.
“It’s okay, I just think we need some decoration,” I said, leading her to the nearest stall.
“Decoration?”
“Yup, we might as well look the part. I’d like to buy you something for being such a good travel companion. What sort of jewellery do you like?”
She beamed and we browsed a few stalls, making a pretty good job of projecting the image that we were a couple of normal travellers. Angel would wave her hand vaguely over an area of the display and I would select a necklace or earrings I thought she’d like.
After three-quarters of an hour we’d kitted her out with some dangly silver feather earrings, a shell bracelet and a colourful beaded necklace. Angel looked amazing
and blended in even better as a traveller ‘type’.
“What about you JC?”
“I don’t normally wear anything at home, apart from a nice watch. It’s not really me.” I said.
“But this is the new you. Go on, live dangerously. Don’t worry, I’m not going to suggest a ring… that can wait until Rio,” she added, a mischievous lilt to her voice. I had to smile at that. So with me trying to describe my preference from several necklaces, we eventually made a decision. It was pretty comical because Angel kept agonising over the different choices, as though she had a firm opinion. Difficult when you can’t actually see anything!
Once we’d bought our stuff, Angel-style, we strolled up to the bus stop. It was actually just a side street where the small coaches pulled up next to a handful of competing travel agents’ shop fronts.
As we rounded the corner and slowed down to pick out the right bus, I froze. Standing on the opposite side of the road was Simon, with one of the camera crew. I turned away from him and carried on walking. Fortunately we’d ditched our daypacks by now, opting instead for local-style shoulder bags to help us blend in even more. At the time I’d questioned the logic of leaving the more practical and comfortable rucksacks with the lady in the shop, but I was glad we had.
Angel
It’s amazing what a difference a bit of cheap jewellery can make. I walked up the hill towards the bus stop grinning. I felt like a million dollars and all for only a few quid. I told JC he’d have Maria worried for her job as shopping monitor. I can’t remember the last time I went shopping with a bloke and actually had fun, especially since I lost my sight.
My good mood was kicked into touch as we rounded the corner to jump on our bus and I felt three rapid squeezes. This meant we were in danger of being spotted.
JC left me by a wall, allowing me to sink down against it and sit on my bag, hopefully making me look less conspicuous.
“Hi, Ingles?” said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Simon.
Bollocks!
