Page 42 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“But you don’t get travel sickness, do you?” said Purna.
“No, but I will take it,” said Baggio.
“Then give me one too,” said Purna.
Heart fluttering, I said, “Are you sure you want to take it?”
They nodded.
The pickup truck arrived. After we crossed the bridge at Lungtenzampa, I skimmed for the restaurant
building. The clustered buildings obstructed my view, but I skimmed for it until we got behind the bend.
The paddy fields at Olakha and Babesa were lush. My heart ached more. So, I curled beside Purna and
Baggio. “Um, what was her name? Funny, I was head-over-heels with a girl I didn’t even know her name.”
I closed my eyes.
Baggio nudged me. “Get up, Uncle.”
“What is it?” I said, squinting.
“The truck broke down,” he said. “We’re moving to a workshop.”
I closed my eyes. “Okay.”
“Get out, Uncle,” said Baggio.
“Oops, what’s happening?” I tried to stand beside them, but the drowsiness dragged me to the
roadside. I lay there until Baggio woke me.
“Get on the truck,” he said. “It’s mended now.”
We hit the road again, but the jolt of the truck woke me. “What happened?” I said, looking around the
dense wood. “Where are we?”
“No idea,” said Purna. “Something has gone wrong with this truck.”
The driver slapped his forehead. “Oh no! The axle has come out.”
I peeped at the sky through the branches of pine trees. The sun had reached noon. “What now?”
“No idea,” said Purna.
Arms crossed, I paced across the road. “Damn it.”
“We should call a mechanic?” said the driver.
“That would take the whole afternoon,” said the team captain, Jigme. “Even night.”
“That’s the only way if we must continue the journey,” said the driver.
“Okay, do it,” said Jigme. “Hurry.”
The driver returned after two hours. He paced around the truck, glancing in the direction the mechanic
would come. “What’s taking him so long?”
The team captain yawned, leaning on the door. “I don’t think the mechanic would come,” said Jigme.
“Let’s try to mend it ourselves?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” said the driver.
They could fix the truck in the fall of the dusk. Hours later, the driver drove us through the Chamkhar
town, and up the north, and stopped the truck beside a house. A man scurried out and shook hands with
the driver.
“Boys, meet my friend,” said the driver. “A forest ranger.”
The ranger smiled at us. “Come in, please. Feel at home.”
Dinner was ready. Simmered pork was part of the menu. I gobbled up to the last bit.
After dinner, Baggio said, “You lack manners, Uncle.”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“You embarrassed us,” he said, gnashing his teeth.
“Why?”
“You ate so much.”
“What the heck is the matter with you?”
“Ssh!” He glanced at the door of the host’s bedroom. “You shouldn’t have gobbled up like a pig.”
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