Wishing I had brought more than a machete and a backpack of food and that small first aid kit. You don't travel in this country other than light, however, unless you want to pay porters. And I knew they wouldn't want to go where I was wanting to. Sure, there's that GPS beeper if I get in trouble, but that shouldn't be a problem.
No, the greater deal was that I was working on an ancient description of where this thing was and the paths it described were all overgrown. It was easier to follow game trails, which did more or less follow those old worn paths. These roads had been used for hundreds of years before the civilization seemed to just vanish. And the growth was bad. Often, you could only work out the trail by looking up - and seeing where the trees parted on both sides, being thin in the middle.
Still, the vines were tough and over grown, sometimes thicker than my forearm. I only cut the ones I needed to. Those old movies of people hacking their way through the forest don't also show them taking breaks every 15 or 20 minutes to recuperate. I quickly found out the fastest way was finding a way around instead of going through.
Steep bluffs were the most troublesome. 30-40 foot drop-offs forced me to go up or downstream to find a tributary or gorge which would afford me access. And then I had to do the same thing on the other side. That river meanwhile was a twisting, curling mess, as it would double back on itself within a quarter mile. Of course, it wasn't during the rainy season, so it was a shallow, gravelly mess on the bottom, covered with regular deadfalls of old trees and bunched-up brush with nasty traps set from rotten water-soaked wood if you tried to cross broadside.
And mosquitoes were everywhere. Sweat rolled off in mini-rivulets, but I had to preserve the water in my canteen for the miles ahead.
Finally the path broke free of jungle growth and I was moving away from the river again. Here, the game had found that the old roads were more easily traveled and left a path. It looked like the ground was too tightly packed for much growth, but that packing had also left the road lower than the surrounding forest on each side. So there were many soft spots to walk around. Still not easy going.
What was I doing this for? I had to remind myself of the cache of hidden knowledge which legend says was stored in that old temple so long ago. Sure it said riches, but I knew the other meaning. And if there were valuable data there, it would be on the walls, whatever were still standing.
A clearing broke ahead, odd for this part of country. As I move forward, the growth parted and I felt more solid under-footing, as if the original stone road was under there somewhere. The road was straight now, and the misty sunlight was hiding whatever was still in front of me to discover. While my heart began beating quicker, I worked to still it and stay calm. Just because I had been travelling for weeks to get to this spot, and more than half a day away from the Jeep I left on the jungle's closest navigable trail, I still needed to get back that same way.
My hopes nearly got dashed with what I saw next.
The road broadened out to a clearing was empty, except for saplings which had started growing there. No temple of rock rising out of the forest floor. No huge monolith inscribed with ancient writings. Just an empty clearing filling with what new growth could penetrate that underlying rock floor, which showed through where old slabs had been uplifted here and there by the tree roots and weather.
Still picking my way forward, I reached into my pack to extract my camera and recorder. Just then, I stumbled.
Fell, more like it. And kept falling.
Because there wasn't anything to grab hold of on my way down or anything to stop my fall with outstretched arms.
I could see the opening dwindling above me which had been hidden by vines drop away above me, but my concern was not busting my head or ribs or something else when I eventually landed. Odd that I could think clearly during all this. Events seemed to slow as my mind apparently speeded up. But the worst I was getting was some massive scrapes and bruises as I the vines and roots I ran into kept slowing my downward progression and I was finally able to grab several in order to halt in some awkward position an unknown distance from wherever "down" finished.
I hung there, suspended, until I could figure things out.
Light wasn't clear here, the bulk of it was streaming through that small hole I had punched in the grass and vines above. Meanwhile, my fall had taken me past more of these, which tended to snap back and fill that space I had come down through. And no, it wasn't easy to get to some sort of flashlight, since these were in my backpack, which was now twisted behind me in a painful contortion as the straps cut into my shoulder - but at least it was still there. Again, this wasn’t like the movies.
So in that dim view, I carefully found thicker branches and vines to move to and got myself upright again. Sorting out the backpack with a free hand did allow me to fish out a light - which I quickly clipped it's lanyard to my waist so I wouldn't lose it. It dangled below me by a foot or so as I took my free hand to get more secure and more comfortable, my breath still ragged and I worked to calm the body down after that excitement.
- - - -
"And how do you think you think?" asked the shaman-kapua.
Dressed in his typical duck-cloth shorts, short sleeve open shirt, and sandals, the old man was smiling as if he had just set the joke for a coming punch line.
We were sitting near the beach, in the shade of the trees nearby. The waves were keeping their irregular pattern on the shore, and birds cried above as they hunted for food. The world seemed at peace, his question almost an interruption to this quiet scene.
I answered, "I don't know, never thought that far out."
"Look it over, let me know." The old man was still smiling, and turned to look out to sea.
"Well, there's how it happens. Looking at things objectively."
"True. How else do you think?"
Pausing, I said, "And then there are people who think with their feelings - how it affects them, how they react to whatever happened."
"Again true. How else do you think?"
A longer pause. More looking out to sea. "There are things which stand for other things. Symbols. What things mean."
"Yes and right again. Is there another way you think?"
Now the pause stretched a long time. One could almost see the shadows move from the sun’s passage before I finally concluded, "There's how things work together, like wind, sea, sun, birds. The holistic view of things. Natural systems and interaction."
"Ah, that is so. Very good."
And with that, my friend the shaman-kapua rose and walked down the beach in the direction toward his hut.
I stayed and sat to digest what he had just made me figure out for myself.
The sea continued its irregular beat against and with the shore. Trees overhead whispered the songs of the breeze, while flying and dipping birds gave their own odd riffs and accent to this unwritten, but eternal melodic tune.
- - - -
"About time you got back. He's gone and done it again."
Sue zipped up her tunic to its top and put the fruit-bar on the desk. Roger's hands were furiously typing as he stared at the characters moving on the screen. His sweaty forehead made the whole small control room seem warmer.
"He's flipped out of the scenario we set up and started his own." Roger was frustrated, working frantically to rebuild the world that Joe was supposed to be staying within.
Sue quickly sat and started in on her own keyboard, "OK, it's time for her visit. A little early, but this will knock him back into the loop he's supposed to be in."
- - - -
Joe stirred suddenly in his sleep. It was the hospital room again. He didn't move, knowing that he needed to find out what just happened which woke him up. The room was darkened, the hall barely lit beyond it. Night was official at the hospital. His room door was open and someone was standing there.
As he looked on, the figure reached up to turn off the glowing badge, then shrugged out of a smock which was draped over the visitor chair by the door. That movement showed in the dim light that she had stared moving toward his bed. He could hear other article of clothing quietly slither to the floor as she moved.
A hand on his shoulder was warm as she moved him over to his side away from her. Quickly she undid the ties to his hospital gown and proceeded to massage his shoulder and back. He responded by rolling over on his stomach, where she smoothly continued to rub his back, finding areas where unknown tightness still remained. Knots loosened under her practiced hands, until the world was a soft, relaxed world of comfort.
Her hands moved slowly lower on his back and then progressed to his thighs and calves. His feet were last and became completely relaxed without tickling. Joe felt her hands quickly continue back up across his back to the shoulders, where a sudden quick movement had him turned completely over and facing the ceiling again.
And then the light from the hall was blotted out as she moved to straddle his legs with her own, the weight moving Joe's bed down, but with no noise or bounce as the mattress adjusted to the weight.
Suddenly, her lips met his and hair cascaded down the sides of his face. Light kisses then proceeded down his neck and chest as her hands worked over his arms, pecs, and abdomen.
Joe knew better to interrupt at this point. Simply laying back to enjoy this new development would be the best approach...
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