The Travel Mate

by Mark Green

  ‘Maddie?’ Gabby stooped down and gently shook her shoulder.

  Jerking against him as he changed gear, surging forwards again—

  ‘Whoa!’ Maddie’s body tensed. She jolted awake, eyes wide, pulling focus, her senses gathering information, placing her in a recognisable place and time. She stared up at Gabby, darting her eyes between her and the tall, bohemian yet distinguished-looking figure stood beside her.

  ‘You’ve been asleep for over an hour. This is Matthew.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said, offering his hand.

  Maddie nodded and briefly squeezed his palm, mumbling a greeting.

  ‘We’re going to find Dal, take a ride to get some breakfast. Would you like to join us?’

  ‘Oh, that’s very kind, but I’m okay, thanks. I’ll get something later.’

  ‘I feel bad about leaving you on your own, especially as you were here to look out for me.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’m enjoying being here, it’s peaceful.’

  ‘Have you been to the temples before?’ asked Matthew in a deep, unhurried tone.

  Maddie shook her head.

  ‘She’s got a three day pass,’ said Gabby.

  ‘Then you can’t start your visit here, at Angkor Wat. It would spoil the experience. Have you got the map they gave you?’

  ‘I think so …’ Maddie rummaged in her shoulder bag, found the ticket and guidebook pamphlet, which she handed to him.

  ‘Okay, so you need to get out to see furthest temples of Preah Khan and Neak Poan first. I can mark up a route for you, if you like?’

  ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  Matthew produced a pen and crouched down, resting the map on his knee. ‘Tomorrow you can work your way back to Ta Prohm and Sra Srang, finishing with Angkor Wat and Bayon, on the last day. That will give you the best perspective of the temple complex.’ He lifted his head from the map and looked up at Gabby. ‘We’re spending the day together …?’

  ‘Kinda hoping so.’

  ‘Perfect.’ He turned back to Maddie. ‘If you’re happy to do the tour on your own, why not take my bicycle? It’s the best way to see everything and means you can mooch around at your own pace.’

  ‘Would that be okay?’

  ‘Certainly. It’ll be a long cycle ride out to Preah Khan – around twenty-four kilometres – but it’ll be quiet. It will also prepare you gradually for the crowds on the last day.’ Matthew flicked up the bike’s stand and wheeled it over to Maddie. ‘Hang onto it for a while …’ He glanced over at Gabby. ‘We’ve got some catching up to do.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful, thank you.’

  ‘We might see you later in town, for dinner?’ said Gabby.

  ‘Sounds good. But don’t worry about me if you two get … distracted.’ Maddie grinned. She strummed the bike’s bell as she pedalled off onto the perimeter tarmac road, leaving Gabby and Matthew standing holding hands.

  ‘Watch out for the first left hand turn at the corner of the lake, and the big junction at the main entrance road – it’s a free for all!’ Matthew called out.

  ‘Cheers!’ Maddie shouted over her shoulder. ‘I’m going for the grand temple tour …’

  • • •

  Fender sat back from the paper files spread out on the table and folded his arms, studying Rupert. ‘So based on Madeline’s history, particularly her … reservations towards men, that leaves us with the two girls, heading south to the capital.’

  ‘That would be my suggestion.’

  ‘I’m not completely convinced. But I understand your reasoning, given your unique insight into her psyche. Regardless, it’s logical and advantageous for us.’

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t see a valid reason that will keep her in Phnom Penh for long. The other travellers will disperse quickly once in the city. It’ll be difficult to track them efficiently, or her there. Siem Reap holds the central attraction of the temples. Most guidebooks suggest three days is a decent time to see the complex and there is only one entrance. So every traveller will have to funnel through that same gateway, twice a day. This means we’d have some time in hand, to backtrack there if necessary. Whereas once they leave the bus station in Phnom Penh, they could end up anywhere, it’s a travel hub. So we pay a taxi driver handsomely to get us to the capital as fast as possible, then locate, interview and discount those travellers from our list. By my reckoning, if we leave now we might only be four hours behind the bus arrival time.’

  ‘Makes sense.’

  ‘Excellent. Let’s mobilise. It’s time to make a random taxi driver very happy.’

  Twenty-Four

  Maddie glanced down the line of cars, tuk-tuks, minibuses and coaches crawling towards her, all being overtaken by snarling scooters beeping and weaving across onto her side of the road, encouraging her to hug the tarmac near the verge to let them zip safely by. The queue of opposing vehicles stretched back in a hazy, metal caterpillar far into the distance.

  She lifted her gaze beyond the traffic, marvelling at the vast lake-size moat around Angkor Wat. The gentle breeze was now rippling the water, further distorting the reflection of the perimeter wall which sparkled under the rising sun. To her right beside the road, children gathered in small groups, the girls wearing pretty flowery dresses, boys in shorts and European football club shirts. Some shyly observed her, others were bolder, running over, shouting hello and waving. Maddie grinned and waved back, pinging the bell as she cycled past. Through gaps the trees, she glimpsed market stalls and canvas-canopied restaurants with colourful tablecloths and enthusiastic hosts, beckoning tourists over to sample their menu.

  ‘Uh oh – suicide squad …’ Maddie slowed her pedalling, keeping a watchful eye on the cluster of scooters zooming towards her. They scattered out from the junction in a chaotic multi-directional two-wheeled dogfight. She glanced over her shoulder, wobbling over onto the mud verge, letting a scooter whirl past. She flinched, clenching her teeth, began pedalling faster, recalling Sandy’s advice. Her eyes darted from side to side as she aimed for gaps between scooters, motor cycles, tuk-tuks, other visiting cyclists – anything with wheels. She ploughed onwards, turning hard left at a junction straight into traffic chaos, reminiscent of a climactic Star Wars movie battle scene – two-wheeled TIE fighters screaming past in every conceivable direction but the conventional one.

  ‘Shhhhiiiiittttttttt! Left turn, left, left … and pedal, pedal, PEDAL!’

  Maddie clenched her fingers around the plastic grips, her feet chopping up and down, knees aching as she pumped the crank faster and faster, until she’d finally negotiated the multi-directional carnage. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, adrenalin draining from tired limbs as she reduced pressure on the pedals, freewheeling, her breathing calming down, fingers relaxing their death grip. She reached out with her thumb to strum the bell lever in a victorious celebration.

  Tring, tring! Tring, tring! Tring, tring!

  ‘Woo-hoo! That was insane!’

  • • •

  Two wheels revolving in unison, spokes thrumming, a thin, dark shadow of the bike frame on the tarmac, consistently progressing, level and uniform. Maddie looked up from her grey outline and began to make a gradual turn, aware of the sun tracking across her shoulder, warming her back. She glanced down again, the shadow overtaking her, stretching forwards, the triangular frame soon absorbed into one straight line beneath the saddle width and her hunched outline over the front wheel.

  A scooter overtook her, the metallic buzzing exhaust interrupting her mid-daydream, causing her to wobble. She wrinkled her nose at the two-stroke fumes drifting behind her and continued riding, the scooter’s racket fading with every swooshing rotation of her pedals. She took a deep satisfied breath, pollution free once more. Only the long tree-lined road and her shadow accompanying her for long glorious uninterrupted periods, other traffic mercifully rare this far into the park.

  Perched comfortably on the saddle, sitting tall, head held up h
igh, Maddie couldn’t suppress a constant grin. No unnecessary rules, reasons, expectations …

  A little later, she steered off the road, freewheeling onto the rutted verge beside the edge of the forest. She leaned the bike against a tree, locked it and took a long drink of tepid water from the bottle stored in the basket. The tree-lined path led towards a flagstone walkway two hundred yards away, beyond which an uneven, decaying roofline stretched away from a grand pillared entrance, enticing her in.

  She pulled a sarong from her bag and wrapped it around her waist, tucking in the loose end, smoothing the folds over her knees. Next, she opened the tourist map Matthew had marked up for her, and scanned the photographs and text for a description of the Preah Khan temple.

  Square statue figures stood shoulder to shoulder, parallel to the treeline behind. Occasional tourists gathered in groups of two or three, some studying the carved stone characters, others taking photographs or roaming amidst the ancient structures. Maddie stepped up onto the walkway, bordered on both sides with twelve-inch high chamfered kerb stones.

  Directly ahead, the imposing entrance loomed, guarded by two twelve-foot high headless warriors. One soldier rested the tip of a sword on the ground between his feet, his hands clasped around the handle. The other figure’s arms bent forwards at right angles, a forearm missing on one side, a hand and whatever weapon he’d originally wielded lost from his other elbow.

  Maddie paused to crane her neck up at the intricate carvings set deep into the stone beneath the entrance apex. Two bow-wielding archers opposed each other, standing proudly on their chariots. Around them, horses pranced, fighting figures and animal heads merging in a scene of battle mayhem, eroded by weather and time.

  She ducked her head and stepped into the cool dark entrance. She shuffled farther into the gloom to allow light from side windows and courtyards beyond to filter in, revealing lighter greys and creamy beige walls, which rose into a stone-clad triangular peak, twenty feet above. Ahead, one stone-framed doorway stretched on to the next opening, which in turn led to the next, the repeating corridors replicating a seemingly unending hall of mirrors.

  Maddie stepped out of the cold stone sanctum into glorious sunshine. She shielded her eyes and squinted, pausing to slide her sunglasses down, drinking in the sun’s warmth. She roamed through the dilapidated east entrance, beyond which a boulder-strewn jigsaw had been spread randomly over the grass courtyard. She turned to look up at the partially collapsed roof, then scanned the ground, trying to picture where the missing irregular-shaped blocks belonged.

  Shh-clitch.

  Memory Card 3. Pic 111

  ‘Standing amongst the wreckage in an unfamiliar place from another time, she surveys the damage, this curious girl, not yet in her prime. Irreparable, perhaps, or is there an opportunity to better herself, rebuild so as to avoid being left on the shelf? Does she have the courage to start somewhere else, anywhere, and begin again – only time and tenacity can determine the outcome – but if not now, when …?’

  Maddie shifted her gaze from the rickety roofline, about to turn away when she frowned, drawn to an intricate carving. Recessed into the wall beside an ornately shaped window surround, a woman had been sculpted. She stood three feet high, looking out as if watching over the collapsed building debris. Maddie drew closer, gently tracing her fingertips over the intricate stone carving, marvelling at its smooth texture and detailed engraving. She dropped her hand to her side and meandered on, past a Spanish family sitting on a giant egg-shaped rock embedded in the ground and a lone photographer, his features partially obscured behind a stone window aperture, only a glimpse of a flat tartan cap.

  Maddie drifted on, time slowing, mirroring her meanderings. She padded along the narrow wooden boards that formed a long pedestrian walkway, elevated on supports a few feet above the muddy quagmire below.

  Something hummed past her head, causing her to instinctively duck away from the high-pitched fluttering sound, accompanied by tiny reverberating air movements. She carefully straightened up from her semi-crouch, panning around the tangled vines and thorny bushes that poked out above the muddy swamp. Another high-pitched miniature helicopter thrummed past, pausing to hover for a moment in front of her hand, bringing with it hundreds of other double-winged, black and yellow dragonflies. Maddie stood for a moment, mesmerised, surrounded by a cloud of the delicate creatures drifting around her. They were transiting across the path and congregating in lively groups in the middle of the marshland, above the twisted vines and tentacle-like trailing plants. She reached into her bag for her mobile phone, holding it out, her finger poised on the inactive shutter button.

  Careful …

  She frowned at the blank screen, drew her hand closer, her thumb hovering over the power switch.

  This isn’t simply switching my phone on to take a photograph.

  Maddie replaced the dormant phone in her bag and ambled on across the wood plank causeway, passing through more congregations of fluttering dragonflies. At the end of the walkway, a grassy path rose up an embankment to a crest overlooking a square lake, bordered with banks of stone steps, which gradually dropped down to the water’s edge. In the middle of the water stood an ornate miniature temple. The tower stood proudly on a round stone base, the remains of a naga serpent’s head rising up beside a wallowing horse, marking the centrepiece. Four smaller ponds bordered the main lake, one at each corner. Only a few other visitors mingled around the perimeter, making minimal sound, shrouding the grounds in a shawl of peaceful serenity.

  Maddie selected a secluded spot beside the water’s edge and sat down on the steps, elbows on her knees, fingers entwined. She glanced down at her bag, separated her hands and reached for her mobile phone.

  Shh-clitch.

  Memory Card 3. Pic 119

  ‘A difficult decision, swapping liberty for convention, comfort and familiarity, risking stagnating, drowning in complacency. Or, instead, stay on this uncertain and rickety path searching for self-discovery and truth, forever developing and growing inwards, holding onto a glorious and everlasting youth.’

  Maddie turned at the sound of his voice. She shielded the sun with her mobile phone, squinting at the figure being obscured by shards of light twinkling behind his shoulder. Barry adjusted position, shielding the glare, grinning at her from behind his camera lens as recognition clouded her features. He dropped his head back behind the viewfinder and rattled off several more shots.

  ‘You …?’

  ‘The one and only. You couldn’t look more shocked if your fiancé suddenly appeared with a bottle of champagne and a heart-wrenching apology.’

  ‘Yeah, imagine the odds … what are you doing here? I thought you’d gone to Phnom Penh.’

  ‘I did. Needed to reclaim my memories.’ He swung his hip, flicked the strap on his camera case around in front of his groin and opened the lid, retrieving a plastic 35mm film pot. He rattled the memory cards inside it.

  ‘You went all the way there, then came back? That’s nuts.’

  ‘Some might say … okay if I sit down?’

  Maddie shrugged, waved her hand in his direction. Barry carefully packed his camera into the padded bag, lowered it between them and sat down. ‘This represents a demarcation between my space and yours, offers me some protection. I don’t want you getting any ideas.’ He grinned at her pout, placed his tobacco tin on the step between his legs and leaned forwards to prepare a roll-up. ‘I saw you at Preah Khan. You’re doing this in the right order.’

  ‘Gabby’s old flame recommended a route.’

  Barry nodded. ‘Makes sense. How you finding the cycling?’

  ‘Peaceful.’

  He cocked his eyebrow at her and chuckled. ‘Until I encroached on your harmony?’

  She turned away, looked out over the lake. ‘You came back to see this place, capture it on film?’

  Barry placed the roll-up in his mouth and lit the end, puffing it into life. ‘Yup. I need it, for the book. It’s also a sort of pilgrima
ge, coming here.’

  Maddie turned back to face him, raised her eyebrows.

  ‘It’s a beer time story. You here on your own?’

  ‘I left Gabby and her fella at Angkor Wat. I’m going to meet up with the others later.’

  ‘Cool. How was the sunrise?’

  She smiled. ‘Pretty special. Especially magical for Gabby, meeting up with Matthew.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet. You asked why I doubled back, there’s your answer. Those few special moments of … clarity. They’re important.’

  ‘How does Jody figure in your being here?’

  ‘Ah … Jody chose a different path. A friend arrives, her travel mate departs. Same-same.’

  Maddie watched Barry luxuriating in the ritual of smoking. ‘Those things will kill you.’

  He nodded, his eyelids narrowing briefly. He relaxed back as he exhaled, a plume of smoke dispersing over the water. ‘Most likely. But I shoulda gone a long time ago, before the baccy stuff started. But fear not, it’ll be beautiful spanking life for as long as it lasts.’

  ‘Another beer time story?’

  ‘Is there any other kind?’ He cocked his head to one side, studying her. ‘Your story, for example … is not a single-cup-of-coffee kinda deal either, is it?’

  Maddie held his gaze for a long moment, then broke off and reached out, plucking the rollie from his fingers. She took a hit, then tilted her head back to blow smoke over her head. ‘It’s normal tobacco.’

  ‘You sound surprisingly disappointed.’

  ‘In you, or that it wasn’t something stronger?’

  ‘Now that is the question, isn’t it? I’m not always stoned.’

  ‘And I’m not always sober …’ Maddie handed the cigarette back.

  ‘That would be worth seeing, Princess Madge, trollied.’ He chuckled, took a final draw on the roll-up and stubbed the end out on the upturned tobacco tin lid. She watched him carefully tip the ash into the tin and deposit the butt inside before snapping the lid shut.