He broke the moment with a loud snicker.
“What is it?” Ayushi responded, with an unsure smile.
“Mama is by the river again; she’s beating the clothes against the rocks.”
“Can you really see her from here?”
“Yes, you can’t miss Mama. That woman is really big!”
Ayushi chortled, “Johannan, if she ever heard you say such a thing, the clothes won’t be the only thing she will be beating. You know she would chase you around the whole village again.”
“Yes, but she never catches me. You know that.”
Ayushi giggled, holding onto his inner arm. “She will catch you one day, you know. I hear her plotting to herself sometimes.”
Johannan shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he gazed into the village. “Mama has stopped washing the clothes now. She seems to be looking around the village.”
“Is Comet tied up?”
“Yes, I did it myself this morning.”
Ayushi gasped, “She’s probably wondering where we are.”
“Oh goodness, I wasn’t thinking. She’s cooking and dinner is ready! I’d better get you back before I get into trouble again. You know Mama would complain for days . . .”
Ayushi laughed at Johannan’s tone fading with worry and she went straight into her impression of an angry Mama chasing Johannan around.
She clenched her fist into the air. “Boy, you get back here, you slippery little eel! Don’t you worry, I will catch you. You can’t run that fast when you’re asleep. Ooh Johannan! I’m going to give you such a sweet walloping when I catch you.”
Johannan burst into a fit of laughter, “You know, you do a very good impression of her—too good.”
“Well, I have no choice but to listen to you two, almost every day. Chickens flapping their wings and clucking, probably trying to defend themselves. Pots kicked over and old Comet getting angry, because you knocked him down again while trying to escape from Mama.”
The two of them laughed, and Johannan had to stop to catch his breath.
****
Johannan still couldn’t distinguish a difference in the scenery from a full day of travelling in the desert, but nothing was going to stop him. He wondered how Ayushi would respond when her eyes were finally opened and she saw him for the first time. The entire village would be astounded. He pictured everyone congratulating him on his success, gathering to listen to his stories. He knew Mama Jala would be happy. Finally he would have done something good to make the old woman proud.
Time was going by, and after days of travelling, his enthusiasm to find the Great Spirit outweighed his supply of water. There was no way Johannan could make it back alive—there was not enough water to last him the journey back. Even if he could go back, the thought of going back empty-handed after putting Ayushi through so much grief only made him think about how many times Mama was going to hit him for leaving to begin with. She’d never let him out of her sight again. And every time he made a mistake, she’d bring it up how he deserted Ayushi to chase some silly fantasy.
She had a strange way of viewing things and making you regret your mistakes by bringing up the past. He could only imagine the laughter of Raman, Ketan, and Nanda overhearing her plans of what she was going to do to him when he returned.
Johannan shook his head, “Going back is out of the question—that spirit has got to be out here—for my sake.”
The soft sand beneath his blistered feet was a relief. The stubborn scenery was beginning to surrender, hundreds of golden, unblemished pyramids of sand scattered from east to west. There still wasn’t a sound to be heard for miles, not even a bird in sight. Johannan almost felt like he was the only man on earth or, much worse, the only living thing. He compared the differences in the plains behind him. The cracked, brittle grounds just behind him made it seem like his journey had just begun.
Taking a glance at his waist, he saw the three shrivelled water skins. He had wrung them out completely for traces of water that may still be sitting inside. There was one full one left, as precious as life itself. I have to make this one last, he vowed to himself.
He came to a wobbling stop, using the back of his hand to wipe his glistening forehead. I know there is truth in that song the fisherman spoke of. The Great Spirit must be here, but where is he? Surely he knows I’m out here searching for him? Perhaps he’s hiding, watching me from afar, waiting for me to die of thirst. After all, there’s no reason for him to care that I’m out here. He seems to be quite the heartless kind if he’s not testing me.
He stared deep into the scenery and frowned. What was the point? Why search so hard? It’s all the same dammed thing. It’s always the same thing, nothing’s changed. If Mama were here, she’d say I’m a wandering fool.
“Show yourself! I know that you can hear me!” The desert mocked him by throwing his words back. He fell to his knees and a tear freed itself and slid down his face. He used up his very last bit of strength, and he wasn’t even that far into the collection of sandy pyramids.
Johannan unceasingly pressed on for another two days. His water had run out, and he began to feel faint. He staggered with each step. The cracking skin on his lips pained him when he opened his mouth to breathe. He felt nauseous, like something was hitting him in the stomach.
Am I finally going to die? Is this the end? He questioned himself as he took one more step forward, joggled, and collapsed face down. His body rolled and slid down one of the steep hills.
CHAPTER 7
A spring of life
Hours had passed, and Johannan was still knocked out, his roll down the sand dune had completely wrapped him in his cloak. The clattering noise of many empty tin pans knocking against each other intermingled with the complaining grunts of a camel. An old traveller had spotted him as he was trotting by. He watched Johannan lying on the ground motionless. The traveller rubbed the sweat from his face and shook his head. “Another one out here about to die.”
He reached to the side of his groaning camel to grab one of the pots and filled it up with water from one of his water skins. He prodded his camel to move a bit closer to Johannan and poured the water all over Johannan’s head and the rest of his body. Water vapour escaped into the atmosphere as the liquid touched the ground.
Johannan head started to move, almost burrowing face down in the sand. There was a few silent mumbles spitting of sand followed by a loud, excited voice as he recognised he wasn’t dreaming at all, “Water! It’s c-cold!”
The sudden feel of water all over his head and body had cooled him down from the heat that sapped his strength. His energy began to climb up his body. It was like a heavy animal sitting on his back and slowly easing itself off. He got up and rubbed himself all over as the old man generously showered him with more water. The stranger found it humorous as he watched Johannan rubbing himself down like he was trying to extinguish a fire.
“Here, drink!” the old croaky voice said, chucking a large water skin towards him. Johannan caught the skin and gulped its water down in no time, wringing it for that last stubborn drop.
“It’s obvious that you’re thirsty, whelp! Here, have another!” The man chucked another water skin at him. “What is a young pup like you doing out here in the Gobi desert without water?” Johannan was about to answer, but the man interrupted, “Are you trying to catch your death, son?”
Johannan pondered, This man is very abrupt and quick to tell someone off. Perhaps it wasn’t the best of ideas to say exactly what he was looking for. He could only imagine being ridiculed for investigating the whereabouts of this stubborn spirit. His thoughts drifted onto the fisherman he met earlier by the Yarlung Tsangpo River. He was kind, but his response had been bad enough.
“I’m searching for someone.”
The man paused as though he had heard the strangest noise he’d ever witnessed. “You are searching for someone—out here?” He stared up into the sky. “Young man, you can’t, you just can’t be serious. Are
you all right?”
“Well, I blacked out until you came along and poured water over me. Thanks to you.”
“Oh, you misunderstand me, whelp. I meant that there is nobody out here apart from me and you. If it is not me you’re looking for, then you should turn around and go home.”
Go home. That’s the second person to tell him that. I’m glad I didn’t mention that I’m out here in the torrid plains risking my life to seek out the Great Spirit. The way the old man’s expression changed as soon as Johannan said he was looking for someone was an obvious sign that it wasn’t going to go down too well with him.
“I’m curious to know who this person might be you are searching for.”
Johannan sighed, “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand—no one has so far.”
“Go on, tell me,” the traveller sing-songed. “You’re crazy enough to come this far without enough water; why can’t you be just as crazy to tell me who this person might be? Perhaps I’ve seen something that may be of some help.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“Go on boy, tell me. What have you got to lose? I gave you the water and saved your life, didn’t I?”
CHAPTER 8
Visions of red and gold
Hundreds of miles from Nepal, trapped in the immeasurable sands of the Gobi desert with a prying old man and his miserable grump of a camel. Despite the situation, Johannan felt a deep sense of gratitude budding within him, but the old man and his camel seemed to be quite the characters.
The stranger pushed hard to find out who Johannan was looking for, digging hard with questions that made Johannan feel outpourings of guilt.
The old man was right about one thing, though: he did save Johannan’s life. The unbounded blaze of the atmosphere around Johannan became cold and small. He felt like he had no choice but to tell him everything. As soon as the old man heard what Johannan was searching for, he laughed so hard he nearly fell off his camel. The camel released a series of grunts that would have led you to believe he was laughing too. This was the reaction Johannan was trying to avoid.
“A blind girl and a great spirit,” the man coughed in laughter. “Listen, child, go home! That girl is going to become a widow before she’s even married.”
Johannan’s gaze dropped to the ground. He felt ashamed and very silly. He didn’t care what the stranger thought; he was still going to continue his search. The old man would probably think he was extremely stupid if he continued, though.
“Listen, whelp, I can take you back to the nearest village. There’s food and water, and you can rest until you’re ready to go home.”
Food, water, and rest sounded good to Johannan. It sounded like the right thing to do. The man displayed an ear-to-ear smile at Johannan, bouncing his eyebrows as if to prompt him to go for the idea. “Return home and have a big wedding. You and that girl could have lots and lots of children.” He released a hearty howl of laughter, “Sounds good, no?”
As Johannan heard the man say “wedding,” a vision of Ayushi appeared in his mind. It was the same one that had driven him into the desert to search for the spirit. He saw her sitting on the ground next to him. The whole village threw flowers over them; they were cheering and dancing. A red veil with golden patterns covered her head, and he could faintly see her image underneath. The drums were loud, and the children ran around with colourful strings. There was a mild smell of sweet oils and food being prepared. He turned to her and lifted the veil from over her head, his friends cheering him on. Her smile grew as she saw her young husband looking handsome in the fine clothes Mama had proudly made. But, the greatest thing of all was that his beloved Ayushi could see. Mama cried with tears of joy. She was finally proud of her boy.
“Yes, it is all I ever wanted,” whispered Johannan, breaking from the trance-like state. “I will find this Great Spirit. I know he’s out here somewhere, and somehow I get the feeling he knows I’m here too.”
“Fine!” A sharp tone of disappointment severed the atmosphere. “If you won’t take me up on my offer, then suit yourself. I’m not going to force you to come back with me. You youngsters are stubborn these days.”
He chucked another two water skins at Johannan, knocking the air out of his chest. “Here!” Johannan caught them before they dropped.
“Thanks to you, again.”
“Thanks to me?” the old traveller laughed, staring into the scenery as if to plan his journey. “You are a stubborn whelp. But it’s the least I can do if I can’t convince you to come back with me. Without help, you are going to die out here. To be honest, you’re probably going to die anyway.” The man paused and hesitated like he shouldn’t have uttered what he just said. “Go on, whelp, be careful.”
“I will. Take care, sir.”
The camel grunted and began to move in the opposite direction. “The pup tells me to take care. I’m the one that found him on the ground half dead with no water, and I’m the one he tells to take care,” Johannan overheard him say.
“Don’t worry about me, I will find him,” Johannan said, waving goodbye.
“I will remember you, whelp, you are a funny one. Don’t panic too much if you get caught up in a sandstorm; they are not as bad as they look. Just cover your entire face and don’t breathe in the air directly—otherwise you’ll end up with a mouth full of sand. With all this scorching heat, you don’t need that.” The man laughed out loud, “You’ll wish then that you took me up on my offer, you stubborn boy!”
CHAPTER 9
Son of Nepal
Pressing onward, harder, Johannan was adamant he would find the Great Spirit, wherever he might be. He gazed far into the stretches of gold. The still, jagged outline of the boundless horizon began to dance. It seemed like the land was rising into the sky. Sandstorm!
He panicked, but plunged the balls of his feet into the sand; he was ready. There was nowhere to run or hide, just hopeless stretches of endless desert dirt. The whirling dusts of gold clambered to the heavens to cover the face of the sun, patches of thick sands turned the light to darkness, simulating a nightfall over the terrain. Johannan remembered the old man’s advice. He had to surrender to the swelling, golden clouds to proceed.
He tucked his head down by his knees and covered himself with his cloak, and the spiralling brown clouds enveloped him not long after. The whistling Gobi winds blew around him, and he struggled to keep his fluttering cloak on the ground. It was like nothing he had ever been through before. Suddenly, the whistles of the gale were blotted out. There was an eerie silence.
“Johannan.” The voice faded into the heavens—Johannan hastily searched around, groping the air as he was shrouded within a wall of darkness. Is my mind playing tricks on me? He was certain that he had heard someone call his name. But no one knew who he was out here, not even the old man on the camel. I must have been hearing things.
The voice returned to call him in its ghostly tone, “Johannan, Son of Nepal, why do you bother me? Seeking me out against all counsel?”
Johannan trembled; this voice knew him by name. He knew who he was and where he had come from. This had to be the Great Spirit. He probed the barren land for him, risking his life. He never prepared himself for what he would say or do if he actually had an audience with him. His doubts were beginning to surface. Perhaps deep down he never thought he’d find him.
“Johannan, Son of Nepal, why do you bother me? Seeking me out against all counsel?”
The question asked a second time gave Johannan no time to think about an answer. He was short of words.
“I am here—”
He clenched his fist and pounded the ground. That’s not what I wanted to say. But what do I say? He just came out of nowhere. I must come up with something before he departs, or else it would all be for nothing.
“Is—is that you, Great Spirit?”
There was a cooling presence in the atmosphere. Johannan felt a tightness on his skin, giving rise to thousands of goose bumps. He knew he was s
till near, but the voice didn’t respond to his question. “I’m in urgent need of your help.” Johannan clenched a handful of dirt, tightening his grip as the sand slid through his fingers. He was not happy with himself; he believed he could have expressed himself much better. “I’m in urgent need of your help.” Why did I say that? So long, I’ve been out here, and that was the best I could come up with?
The sands began to hiss, “Leave me!”
Johannan stretched his hands out in the darkness as if to hold on to something. “No, please don’t go! I—I need you.” He held his head down in distress. “She needs you.”
The noise of the whistling winds returned, and the shivery presence of the spirit had departed. Johannan was very disappointed with himself. He could have responded quicker, for a start. He let the spirit get away—he was so close to making his request known. Against all the advice he was given, he found out that the Great Spirit actually existed. This was something to be happy about. He decided to search for him again, but this time he would waste no time making his request known. He was not going to let down himself or Ayushi.
He smiled, “I can’t believe I’ve met him—wait till Nanda hears about this.” Nanda loved stories of the supernatural. Johannan thought about home: Mama Jala was probably waiting at the village gates for his return, ready to ambush him as soon as his shadow reached the entrance. “She can’t do that now. Not when I return with the cure for Ayushi’s blindness. She’ll be happy that I left to begin with.”
He continued his search for a few more days, only to collapse again from total exhaustion. Time went by, and he was still out in the sun when he heard the sounds of rattling tins and the grunting of that miserable old camel nearby.
The old traveller was passing by again. He saw Johannan in the distance, and being already acquainted he wasted no time. He nudged his camel to increase its speed towards him. The old man quickly went through the motion of pouring water into one of his pots and splashed it over Johannan.
The Son of Nepal Page 3
