Page 33 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

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.”
I couldn’t believe he said that to me, so I scoffed. “How could you?”
He rolled up the blanket over his head. I curled up beside him.
The host woke us for breakfast, but Purna couldn’t take it. He often twitched his face and pressed his stomach.
“What’s the matter, Purna?” I said.
“I am sick,” he said. “My stomach aches and rumbles.”
“Maybe diarrhea?” said Baggio.
“I don’t know, but I’ll manage,” he said.
We hit the road after thanking the host, but the truck ground to a halt after a few miles.
“Boys, push it,” said the driver. “We must take it to the workshop.”
“Oh, no!” said Purna.
The workshop was down the road. We pushed it and ran after it, but our truck couldn’t be mended. Frustrated, I
strolled away to the riverside, leaving Purna and Baggio back. In the afternoon, I returned to the workshop.
“Boys, it might take longer,” said the driver. “Why don’t you stroll around?”
Purna cringed his face and said, “I can’t go anywhere.”
“You can rest there, under the tree,” said Jigme.
“We will stay with him,” I said.
Purna showed no improvement. He shivered more.
“Sorry, they couldn’t mend the truck today,” said the driver. “Hope they would mend it tomorrow, before
noon.”
We shook his heads in dismay.
“Boys, back to the Ranger’s place now,” said the driver. “We’ll come tomorrow.”
The next day, they mended our truck in the evening. Soon the dusk crawled in and we drove through the creepy
dense woods. The truck rumbled up and down the mountains and made many abrupt turns.
“God, take us home,” I said. “We take refuge in you.”

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