The day started auspiciously...a downpour, and then a rainbow in the humid air of Dehli. Ty watched out the huge window at the airport, seemingly at the planes landing and taking off, but in actuality, at the rainbow. It felt as if something sacred was about to begin, maybe a great Templar find, or a fantastic archaeological discovery. Ty couldn’t pinpoint it, but it felt as if something magnificent was about to make its appearance on the face of the earth and this was the very beginning of it.
Ty turned his back on the window as the rainbow faded. Nobody else had noticed it. Therese was reading, slumped down in her chair, twirling her hair and holding her book up to her face. Ty knew it was a romance novel from the cover illustration of the half-clothed couple, embracing. Cheryl was dozing, laying down over two chairs, scrunched up. Vincent was deep in thought as he studied his laptop. The professors, Tullio, Preston and Richard were engaged in a lackadaisical chat as they kept an eye on the luggage. Oliver and Rishi were outside a lounge in the distance, smoking furiously, hovering over a cylindrical garbage can, topped with a bowl of sand. Ty crossed through throngs of people and joined them.
Oliver and Rishi were silent, intent on their task. When he spotted Ty, Rishi reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out half a pack of cigarettes.
“Want one?” Rishi asked from the corner of his mouth, his cigarette dangling from the other corner.
Ty held up a hand in front of the pack. “Nah, why would I want one?” He turned to Oliver. “You don’t smoke. What are you doing?”
“Solidarity, man. I’m showing my support.”
“We’re trying to enjoy the last cigarettes before we go into the Land of the Komodo Dragon, or whatever it's called,” Rishi replied.
Oliver took a deep drag and Rishi followed suit. “No smoking allowed in Bhutan. We’re trying to finish the pack. Sure you don’t want one?” Oliver asked.
Ty ignored the question. “The whole country? You can’t smoke anywhere in the whole country?”
“Incredible, isn’t it?” Rishi said.
As Rishi tapped the pack and pulled out another cigarette, Ty noticed his fingers were long and tapering. Whereas Oliver was sloppy and unpretentious, Rishi’s look was studied. He was smooth and elegant. Though he was wearing hiking boots like the rest of them, they looked fashionable on Rishi. The glasses he wore were tinted even indoors, making it difficult to read his eyes. Having grown up in London, he still bore a trace of an aristocratic, British accent.
A voice came through the speakers, announcing their flight was boarding.
Oliver immediately stubbed out his cigarette. “This is it, man.”
Rishi coolly finished smoking, slowly buried the butt in the sand and tossed the rest of the pack into the garbage.
“You’re okay with this, huh?” Ty asked.
Rishi smiled and tapped his jacket pocket. “I’ve got plenty of nicotine gum and patches to see me through.”
As they were getting settled in the plane, Vincent handed Ty a sheaf of papers. “Check these out, Ty. I’d like your opinion about a few things. Pass them to Rishi when you’re done.”
Ty settled in his seat with every intention of reading the papers. Instead, as soon as the plane lifted off he gazed out the window and thought about Jenna's sunny, smiling face, worrying if she was going to pass all her exams without him to help her study. She was interested in Vincent's work, but didn't really enjoy reading like Ty did, and wasn't totally versed in the subject.
He scrolled through the pictures of her on his camera over and over, thinking how lucky he was to have her for a girlfriend. Plenty of boys liked her but he knew she loved him. And it was not because his father was a celebrity, which he knew would attract some girls. She once told him jokingly she loved him for his good looks.
The plane flew over the mountains and descended into a valley for landing, the wings looking as if they were going to touch the tall trees on the mountainside. As the plane dipped toward Paro airport Oliver moaned, “Oh, God, just get me on the ground.” Oliver had been sick the whole flight, retreating to the lavatory in the rear of the plane several times. Ty was grateful he had the sense not to show support for Rishi’s smoking habit.
The plane roared to a stop and Ty looked out the window, eager for a glimpse of the Mountain Fortress of the Gods. Bhutan had this title because there were only a few high mountain passes into the country and it had never been successfully invaded. The country continued to follow that long tradition of guarding its borders by limiting the number of tourists and charging a hefty tourist tax. Vincent and the team were permitted visas, not as researchers but as tourists.
Their tour guide, Decki, met them when they stepped off the plane. He had a perpetual smile on his face, as he helped them navigate through the baggage claim and customs, even though the airport was nearly empty. Decki explained that on some days there was only one flight into Bhutan and one flight out on the schedule.
After a two hour drive they arrived in the capital of Bhutan. Thimpu’s population was little more than a medium-sized town, back home in New Jersey. As they drove into the large square that marked the heart of the city, they saw a colorful, ornately-painted booth in the center. It was where the policemen directed traffic. Ty noticed with a start that he had not seen a single traffic light. In all probability, he thought, if there was no traffic light in the center of Thimpu, there probably wasn’t a single traffic light in all Bhutan!
As they checked into the Jumolhari Hotel, Vincent said, “Meet down here for dinner in fifteen minutes, okay? Afterwards, party in our room.”
“Dad, why is there a party in our room?” Ty asked as soon as the door to their room closed behind the bellhop. “This isn’t like you,” he added.
Vincent looked serious for a moment. “This is like me. This is the first time I’ve felt you and I were safe in a long time. It’s the first time I haven’t looked over my shoulder in a long time.” He smiled. “You don’t know what I was like …before…”
Ty stared at him, wondering, before what? He thought about the men who followed them across the globe. After their attack, Ty thought he was the only one bearing the burden of fear and he hadn’t realized how heavily it was weighing on his father.
“Yeah, I’ll bet nobody followed us all the way here.”
“That’s for sure,” Vincent chuckled.
****
The next morning they stepped out in front of the hotel to watch Decki direct their drivers, who were loading their luggage into two vans. Ty was amazed that they were in the capital city, yet they saw very few westerners. Most people were dressed in traditional Bhutanese clothing- ghos for the men, which were like plaid, knee-length bathrobes they wore with knee socks. The women wore kiras, the same plaid bathrobes but ankle-length. Some people, he noticed, wore a combination of Bhutanese and western dress, sneakers paired with a gho, or a woman wearing a tee shirt and down jacket over her kira.
A car, which appeared to be a taxi, drove by the hotel. Two European men sat in the back seat, looking directly at the group in front of the hotel until they spotted Ty watching them. They quickly turned their faces.
Ty began to sweat, thinking, Naa, it can’t be! I’m being paranoid. How could they have followed us here?
Ty looked back at the team. Everybody else in the group was milling around, talking and laughing…except Oliver. He stared at Ty. He saw them too, Ty thought.
Ty tried to push the sighting to the back of his mind as nauseating fear permeated his body. The group climbed in and Ty noticed the oversized van still had the “new car smell.” It was plush. The seats were thickly cushioned and the ride was smooth. When they were underway, Decki turned around and continued his tour guide duties.
Ty diverted his mind from his fear by alternating between staring out the window at the magnificent beauty and looking at Decki, shooting question after question at him.
“Is it true that you can’t smoke in Bhutan?” Ty shot a sidelong glance at Rishi.
“Yes, it is banned.”
“How about TV?”
“This country was the last country in the world to allow television. It arrived here in 1999. Now we also have internet and cell phones…although not many of us have them,” Decki added.
“What else is banned?” Ty asked.
Decki smiled. “How about plastic bags?”
“What?”
“We had plastic shopping bags but found they blew all over the land and looked quite messy…so they are banned from the country.”
Ty thought about all the plastic grocery bags he saw in the United States, stuck in trees or stuck up against fences. “What a great idea. They should be banned back home too.”
“It's like paradise here,” Therese said.
“People think of Bhutan as Shan-gri-la, but we have our problems here,” Decki said.
“It seems to be a very simple, peaceful way of life,” Cheryl said. “I don't see any problems.”
“Just like many other countries we have...issues...with immigration and discrimination.”
“Oh.” Cheryl smiled. “People think West Virginia is simple and idyllic too, but I know it's a hard life.”
Decki nodded. “Yes, in many respects, it's a hard life here.”
“Tell us about the king,” Therese said.
“Our last king, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, abdicated his throne for his son, the fifth Dragon King,” Decki said.
“That’s who she really wants to hear about,” Rishi said.
“His name is Jigme Wangchuck, right? I’ve read about him. He’s the most handsome single king on the planet—a true prince charming,” Therese said.
Oliver turned to her in wonder. “How about that? Our little, quiet Therese has her heart set on Prince Charming. I thought you were saving yourself for me.”
Therese replied with a playful tap on the shoulder. “You’re the last person I’d save myself for.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Therese. He recently married,” Decki said.
“Oh, no, now I might really be stuck with Oliver,” she said, smiling at Oliver.
“If I’m second choice after a King I can handle that. So where are we headed today?” Oliver asked.
“Trongsa--right in the middle of the country. We will be there by sunset. If we didn’t have the road it would have taken weeks,” Decki laughed.
Ty realized he had been expecting a rugged, hard journey. He heard how remote Bhutan was and thought he was in for a rigorous trip. But, rolling smoothly across the country on this newly-paved road in a luxury van, dispelled all his apprehensions. He briefly wondered why backpacks were recommended for traveling to Bhutan. Whatever the reason, he felt the tension leave his body and he started to enjoy himself. He resisted the urge to look behind him to see if the two men were following them, reassuring himself that he was just imagining that they were the same two men who had followed them in Jerusalem.
Decki’s informative treatises became fewer with long silences between them and the group began to fall asleep. Ty fell into a deep reverie, remembering the pile of papers his father had handed him on the airplane. It was a stack of articles about a mysterious and mystical kingdom, hidden high in the Himalayas, called Shambhala. Although its exact location has never been discovered it is believed to be surrounded by snow-capped mountains. It is a place of beauty, where the inhabitants are enlightened, and peace and harmony reigns. The mystical brotherhood who lives there works in service for the betterment of humankind.
Ty gazed at the snow-rimmed mountains and imagined they could climb over the next mountain pass and see it. The articles said that both Joseph Stalin and Adolph Hitler tried to find the mystical kingdom. But according to the legends, only a righteous person could see the paradise.
Late last night after the party wound down, while they were getting ready for bed, Ty questioned his father about it. Vincent told him that he didn’t believe it was a real place…that the myth meant that when a person is enlightened he would find an inner heaven or Shambhala and see the world around him, no matter where he was, as Shambhala.
Ty dozed and when he opened his eyes the bright, blue sky had transformed into gray, threatening clouds and Ty realized he had fallen asleep.
“When did this happen?” he asked nobody in particular, rubbing his eyes.
Decki turned around and faced him. “It is a little early for monsoon season but it looks like it is about to start…today,” he said, still grinning.
The sky got darker until it looked like dusk. After a few large, splattering drops on the windshield, the sky opened up. The rain came down as a solid wall of water. The windshield wipers were useless in the deluge so the driver slowed to a crawl and carefully edged his way over, trying to locate the side of the road.
The group sat in the van on the shoulder for a half an hour until the sky began to lighten and the rain eased a bit.
When they resumed their journey Preston’s voice crackled over the radio. He seemed anxious. “We stopped for a long time. I hope we won’t be on these mountain roads in the dark.”
“Not to worry,” Decki replied, picking up the radio and talking into it. “There’s not too many kilometers left until we get to our hotel. We’ll be there in plenty of time before dark.”
As he finished this last sentence there was a rumbling sound. It sounded like a train coming towards them but Ty remembered that Bhutan didn’t have a railroad system. He looked up the side of the mountain to their right. It looked like a solid, brown wall was moving in slow motion, on a collision course with the van in the lead. Their driver slammed on the brakes and they watched the wall threaten to swallow the professors’ van in front of them.
Ty yelled a strangled, “Noooo.”
The van in front stopped short and the rocks and mud streamed past the van's hood, then into the ravine on the left. When the rumbling stopped there was a new mountain of mud in the middle of the road, blocking their passage.