Golden Biker

by Alexander Von Eisenhart Rothe

  “So you like it here and you are enjoying yourself?”

  “Absolutely, everything is hunky dory!”

  “Thank you for time. Back to the studio, Bob!”

  3. Frankfurt / Germany

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!”

  Beate hurled herself at the TV with an infernal howl, lifted it up with two hands and smashed it to the ground, where it imploded with a loud bang. ‘Twenty white carrier pigeons for a special occasion’ that she had supposedly ordered over the Internet were fluttering in their cages, excitedly.

  “Are you out of your mind, that was a brand new TV!” Rainer shouted aghast.

  Beate stood above the smouldering remnants breathing heavily. Her face had turned deep red filled with rage. “So, he’s enjoying himself??? Going on about it on CNN!!! That son of a bitch, that scum bag!!!”

  Ever since Rainer had offered the desperate woman to stay at his place, she had been torn between wretched self-pity and terrible fits of anger. Rainer tried, as hard as he could to give solace to the first and ignoring the latter, but now that she was demolishing his apartment, she was definitely out of line. Beate was busting his balls already. Every two hours the doorbell rang only to deliver another freshly made ‘Quattro Stagione’. At first he had refused to accept them, but since they all had been paid in advance, the pizza delivery guys just placed them in front of his doorstep, where by now, they were giving off an offensive odour and were attracting cats from all over the neighbourhood. Since Gerd, that miserable, despicable jerk had given Beate’s name but his address on his demented internet shopping sprees, all the stuff had been piling up to the ceiling inside his three-and a half room flat.

  On top of all that, the lawyers association were getting into his wool as well. There seemed to be quite few people all of a sudden, who did not like him and they were making his life miserable.

  Okay, having sex with Beate had been a boon, whereas now, everything this lady and everything that came with her had become nothing but stress! With a sigh he got up, squeezed himself through a gap between the garden shredder and the steam blaster, both in their original boxes and blocking the kitchen door, went to the fridge and got himself a beer.

  When he returned to the living room, Beate was again lying on the couch. “I am sorry about the TV!” she said, in a somewhat friendlier tone. “I’ll buy you a new one!”

  “Oh yeah?” Rainer snorted scornfully. “With what?”

  At once Beate straightened up. “Are you putting the blame on me now? What can I do to stop Gerd treating me like that? If your guys in India would finish their job, we would not have this kind of problems!”

  With an empty look Rainer had a sip from his beer. “If you had not used his laptop for our emails, you silly cow, everything would have stayed as it was!”

  Beate sank back into her pillows hugging them for comfort.

  “But... there is a bright side to it as well. Now we are truly together, no more secrecy!”

  Rainer was taken aback. “Beate” he said stiffly, “I don’t think this is working out between us.

  I know, you’re going through a difficult phase, but... but I am not ready yet, to…to get involved in a steady relationship, I think, you should...”

  Beate stared at him incredulously. “Are you dumping me? Now???”

  Rainer nodded without looking at her

  Beate’s face was without any emotion. Slowly she got up and looked down at him coldly.

  “What’s it worth to you, if I split... now?”

  Rainer looked her confused: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I am talking cash, asshole!”

  “You’re asking me for money?” Rainer asked in surprise. “How much?”

  “Just enough so that I can get a ticket to India, a car rental and a bit of pocket money. Maybe in order to get certain things done, it’s time I took them into my own hands.”

  Rainer angrily crossed his arms in front of him. “And if I don’t give you the money?”

  Beate gave a sugary smile and sank back into the sofa next to him. “In that case, us two love birds will be spending the next couple of months sitting on your couch, eating pizza ‘Quatro Stagione’ together. We’ll have a great time!”

  4. About 37 miles north-east of Manali / Himalayas

  “Oh my god, I am so sick!” Arthur moaned, “sick as a dog, I got stomach pains, my blood circulation has gone AWOL, and everything around me is swirling round. Oh boy, am I sick. Did I already mention how sick I am?”

  Apu Bindi could not suppress a smile. “I know—it’s the altitude. We are at almost 13.000 feet, not everybody can handle that!”

  Bear offered him a bottle of water. “Here, at this altitude you must drink a lot!” But Arthur rejected the bottle. “No way, one sip and I’ll throw up!”

  Ever since they had followed the narrow mountain pass to ever increasing heights, Gerd and Bear too, had their problems with the thin air. Only Apu seemed unaffected by it.

  For almost two days now, they were continuously climbing one hairpin curve after the other towards the Roof of the World. Gerd, who had pictured the Himalayas to be a bit like the Alps, just double in height, was slightly disappointed at first by the rocky, barren, almost desert like valleys and mountain landscape. Only along the rivers, cutting through the gorges there were some patches of green. The one lane road had been carved out of huge rocky slopes and time over time they had to dodge falling boulders or oncoming, brightly painted trucks. The higher they climbed, the more spectacular the scenery became. In the clear air they could see for miles, where the snow packed mountain ranges were stacking up high against the bright blue sky. Again and again they spotted monasteries, perched high up against the mountain massif. In comparison to the huge mountain flanks to which they were stuck, the monasteries looked tiny and forlorn.

  Also, the very few people they met at the side of the road seemed to have changed. Their features looked less Indian and more Eastern, their clothing, became more practical and warmer. Often they wore black fur caps, almost looking like top hats.

  More and more they came upon herds of Yaks (upon which Arthur, spotting their thick and shaggy fur exclaimed: “Look, Hippie-cows!” but for the most part the foursome were the only discernibly living beings for miles around. Only the colourful scarves, flapping in the wind, with tightly scripted lines of Sanskrit that were hanging on sticks or branches gave proof to the existence of people. “Prayer flags!” Bear explained in a worldly-wise tone, “the Buddhists hang them up. They’ve got prayers written all over them, which are supposed to get carried by the wind to the gods!”

  “You are quite knowledgeable about these things!” Apu nodded admiringly.

  “Yes, I have been in one of those monasteries in this area for a while!” Bear said, “The monks took care of me, nursed me back to health, I would have frozen to death otherwise!”

  “Ah, and that is where you are going back to?” inquired Apu.

  “Correct! Unfortunately it lies within the restricted zone, right at the border. Let’s see how we can get by the control posts.”

  “Leave that to me. I have a permit!”

  Bear was astounded. “You are quite well connected for a steel-wool salesman!”

  Apu shrugged his shoulders. “Thing is, even in the restricted military area, there is a demand for steel-wool!”

  Evidently Apu had not disclosed his true identity to the three foreigners. Better to have them think, they were travelling in the company of a salesman. The night before he had made contact with OM reporting that the threesome were looking for a mysterious person named Golden Biker from whom they planned to buy marihuana. Obviously, since there had been so many complicated turns of events, whose reconstruction would be much too complicated, somehow the Goan as well as the Bombay mafia had go
tten involved. Furthermore, and this nobody could make any sense of at all, a geriatric Nazi from Rajasthan and Israel’s Mossad, came into the mix. Even Apu’s insistent probing had not shed any light on that matter. OM ordered him to just stay close to the three foreigners, particularly since they were moving into exactly the area, where tomorrow the Chinese would start conducting their manoeuvre and the Indians their counter manoeuvre. He was to lead them to their destination and await further instructions there.

  They reached the checkpoint at the border to the disputed zone. A couple of oil barrels were standing in the middle of the road, blocking their passage. Apu reduced the speed of the ambassador and came to a halt. The Indian soldiers on duty, being used to a rather sedate routine, looked up from their game of cards ungraciously. Eventually one of them threw his cards down with a sigh and came shuffling towards the ambassador with an air of absolute boredom.

  “Your papers!” he droned through the side window. Apu handed them over and he received them with great effort.

  After glancing at them for a second however, his eyes widened. With shaking hands, he handed back the papers and saluted, visibly shaken.

  “Bindi-ji... Sir, it is a great, extraordinarily great honour. I beg you pardon!” the soldier sputtered out in distress, signalling to his colleague to immediately drop his cards and to spring to attention.

  “I’ll clear the road right away for you, Sir!”

  “No problem!” Apu answered with a friendly smile. “Take your time!”

  The soldier ran back to his colleagues wildly gesticulating. “Quick, clear the road. You won’t believe, who’s inside that car: Apu Bindi!”

  Instantly all laziness was gone and they sprang into life, moving the barrels and any stones from the asphalt. After they were done with that they all ran towards the white ambassador.

  “The road is clear, have a safe journey, Bindi-ji, Sir!”

  “Thank you, you’re doing a spiffing job, gentlemen!”

  “Ehm, Sir, would you mind me asking for your autograph...?” the first soldier asked slightly embarrassed.

  Apu gave him one of his brightest smiles, pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper signed it with a grand gesture and gave it back to the soldier. Then he shifted into first gear and drove off.

  The soldiers were shouting blessings after them.

  Gerd, Bear and even the still slightly anaemic looking Arthur stared at Apu, mouths agape.

  “What... what was that all about?” Gerd was the first to ask in surprise.

  Apu staring at the road up ahead: “Eh? What do you mean?” he asked innocently.

  “All that fuss, just now. Are you a pop star or something?”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  Arthur could not hold still on his seat. “Well, that, just now! The autograph, and the excitement of the soldiers when they saw you! They were beside themselves. How come they knew you all?”

  Apu shrugged his soldiers. “Well, steel wool is rather popular, you see? Have been up here before, that’s probably why!”

  Gerd shook his head in disbelief. “Silly of me, going into pharmaceuticals. If I had only known how much demand there is for steel wool...”

  The narrow track became worse. Deep potholes, long stretches of no tarmac at all and big boulders everywhere, made progress very slow. The road wound up in countless hairpin curves until it reached a mountain ridge from where it led down in a steep angle into a narrow valley.

  Apu pointed to one side of the valley. “Over there, already we have territory controlled by China. The valley in front is more or less no man’s land!”

  Bear scanned the area for anything that looked familiar. And yes, right up there on the tip of a massive mountain ledge, protruding out of the massif, he recognised the small monastery, looking like a fort, where he had been a guest so many years ago.

  “There!” he shouted pointing at a snow white building. “That’s where we have to go!”

  Arthur, whose face had turned another shade of green by now, gave out a moan as he realised the dizzying precipice on top of which the monastery stood

  “My next holiday will be on the beach... or in the low lands. I hear Holland is quite nice!” he groaned.

  The road kept to the flank of the mountain ridge, following a parallel course in a wide arch, just below the monastery a gravel road cut off from it, leading up in a hair raising zigzagged course. Soon they had to abandon the Ambassador and continue on foot.

  In the thin air it took only a few minutes, before their loud rasping and gasping was echoed from the mountainside. Only Apu, in his glowing white suit was happily leading the way, waiting every few yards for the foreigners to catch up with him.

  “That’s the revenge of every cigarette!” Bear coughed, looking down behind him at what ridiculous small distance they had come so far. Arthur meanwhile was down on his hands and feet, climbing up on all fours.

  “Listen now!” Bear admonished the others, “as soon we’re with the monks, pull yourselves together, yes! They are all very polite, but at the same time a bit quiet and shy, ok?”

  Gerd and Arthur just nodded silently, lacking the air for a voiced response.

  Finally they had reached the plateau and the outer wall of the monastery. The last couple of yards they had to climb up some steps that were hewn into the stone. A small boy saw the new arrivals first. He looked like a miniature version of a monk, a novice, in a red robe and shaven head. He made an about turn in his sandals and rushed through the main gate. As soon he had vanished, a deep drone, sounding like a foghorn was to be heard from within.

  “What is that?” Gerd wondered, “Alp-horns?”

  They entered the big inner courtyard. On top of the broad stairs, in front of the main hall the monks, all in red, stood tightly packed, awaiting them. Some of them were blowing into long horns others where chanting. The din was ear shattering.

  “A bit quiet and shy, really?” Arthur shouted at Bear and put his fingers into his ears.

  “I think, somebody should say something, now!” Gerd whispered to Bear.

  Bear moved forward a step and cleared his throat. “Ehm... Hello everybody!”

  No reaction from the monks. Silent stares.

  “My... my name is Bear, well, Albert actually... I’ve been here before, some years ago, maybe one or the other remembers me?”

  Silence.

  Arthur who still had a hard time breathing finally could not bear it any longer. “Excuse me, my name is Arthur, and I am new here. Could we just cut it short with the preliminaries? I am tired, I am sick and I’ve got to go someplace. Is there a toilet here?”

  Bear looked at him scornfully. “Are you nuts? That is already difficult as it is. Do you have to start making things more difficult with that kind of nonsense??”

  “But I really have to go!”

  “The lavatories are right next to the main building, on your right!” suddenly an old monk explained.

  “Thank you so much!” answered Gerd and disappeared. Bear was astounded. The monk disengaged from the group coming down the stairs towards him. “Yes, we do recognise you!” he said with a severe tone in his voice.

  “Ehm... is that good or bad?” Bear asked prudently.

  “We have been expecting you. For many days already, we have prepared ourselves for your arrival!”

  Bear stopped short. “How did you know we were coming?”

  The monk folded his hands. “We are aware of it! The prophecy has told us!”

  “Aha...” For a minute Bear was stumped. “Yes, well... we’re looking for...”

  “You are searching for the Golden Biker, we do know that also.”

  Gerd and Bear looked at the old monk stupefied. “And do you also know, where we can find him?” Bear asked with mounting anticipation.r />
  The monk bowed, smiling mysteriously. “The Golden Biker will find you.”

  A novice with a big brass canister came down the stairs towards them. With a slight bow, he offered each guest a small dish, filling it with steaming lumpy broth.

  “What is that?” Arthur, who had just returned from the lavatories, wondered warily.

  “Salted yak-butter tea!” Bear explained to him and took a big gulp from it.

  Arthur stared dumbfounded at the dish with its steaming contents in his hand. “May I puke right now, or do I have to drink this stuff first?” he pressed out making a disgusted face.

  “You better drink that, they’re all watching us!” Bear hissed. “They’re chucking it down by the gallons up here. It’s their speciality!”

  Gerd sniffed at it and choked down one gulp pulling a face. He boldly managed to give a ‘thumbs up’ gesture nevertheless, in the direction of the monks.

  Bear sighed, watching the desperate attempts of his fellow travellers at being polite. “Listen, there is a simple trick to that. Don’t think tea—just think of soup. It works!”

  Sure enough, all of a sudden the salty, fatty broth seemed quite acceptable to Arthur and Gerd. It’s all in the head after all.

  The monks were stirring their fingers in their teacups licking the sticky butter from their fingers with open pleasure.

  After Bear had finished his butter tea, he handed back the cup. “And what are we going to do now?” he asked the old monk. “Can we stay here for a while?”

  But the monk just jerked is nose up in the air demonstratively, a local gesture for the word ‘No!’

  “In the middle of the valley there is a hill. On this hill you will find a small temple. Tomorrow, when the sun is in it’s zenith, the Golden Biker will meet you there!”

  “What time is... ehm... ‘zenith’ exactly?” Arthur inquired.

  “Noon!” answered the monk.