There was a long, dead silence and nobody in the car moved. Ty realized he had been holding his breath as he watched the mudslide. Now he let it out with a slow exhale.
Oliver let out a low whistle. “The professors could have bought the farm. What am I saying? We all could have bought the farm.”
“Bought a farm?” Decki asked.
“It’s a saying. The mud could have buried us or swept us over the side of the road into the ravine. We could all be dead,” Therese explained, shuddering.
The professors emerged from their van.
“Now what?” Richard Lobinsky asked, looking both irritated and frustrated.
“Good question,” Vincent answered, arms crossed, looking at the mountain of mud in the road.
Preston appeared anxious, alternating between looking down the road in the direction they had just come from, and trying to look eastward around the pile of dirt and mud.
“Decki,” Vincent called. “Can you find out how long this will take to clear?”
Decki nodded his head and approached the line of cars that was forming behind them to talk to the locals and see what could be done. They sat in their vans with the doors open, waiting. Rishi reached for one piece of nicotine gum and then another.
After an hour, a car coming from the last village they had passed, bumped along on the rutted shoulder alongside the line of cars. It stopped next to the professors’ van and several men got out to inspect the blockage. Decki joined them and started a heated discussion, gesturing in their direction every so often. Ty took pictures of the mudslide but cast sidelong glances at Decki, trying to foresee the outcome. The men looked at their group but shook their heads.
When Decki approached Vincent to tell him what he had learned, the others circled around too.
“It is no good. They are in contact with the other side of the slide. They say this will take days to clear but most probably it means it will take a week or more to open the road.”
“What can we do?” Preston asked nervously.
“Is there another way?” Vincent asked.
Decki shook his head.
Vincent walked to the side of the road and looked down the steep mountainside as if to confirm it for himself.
“We can be back in Thimpu late tonight and have a good party,” Decki said with a smile.
“Damn it,” Vincent said angrily. “If we do that we’ll never get to Trashigang. Our tourist visa is only good for twelve days.”
Decki looked at the ground.
Vincent roared, “Arghhh! We’re so close and we’ll be forced to turn around and go home.”
Everyone in the group was silent.
Oliver stood next to Vincent at the side of the road and looked down. “What if we hike down and around the slide? We can catch a ride to the next town on the other side.”
“Quit clowning around, Oliver,” Preston said.
“Who’s clowning?”
The furrow between Vincent’s eyes smoothed and his face broke out into a smile. “I think we can do that. It’s not that steep.”
“You’re nuts,” Richard said. “That’s mud we’d be hiking over.”
Richard Lobinsky had a soft ring of fat around his middle and he looked like he hadn’t exercised since little league baseball.
“Not that much mud.” Vincent looked closely at him. “Are you up for this, Richard?”
Richard looked doubtful but nodded his assent. “I want this as much as you do.” He smiled. “Well, maybe not as much as you but pretty badly.”
Tullio Parisi was stocky and looked as if he would have trouble with a hike, yet he said nothing. Tullio was dressed perfectly to play the part of a hiker, but his boots were spotless and his pressed shirt was smoothed over a basketball belly- it appeared as if he didn't get dirty very often and had never actually hiked.
“We have young ladies with us,” Preston said, jerking his shoulder toward Cheryl and Therese.
“Who are you calling a lady?” Cheryl asked defiantly.
“I just ran a marathon last month,” Therese added.
“Then it’s settled,” Vincent said. “We can send the cars back with our luggage and only take what we need. Decki can you go and take good care of our luggage?”
“I cannot let you do that. I am your tour guide. I must stay with you. And I cannot let you climb down here. If you lose your lives I am responsible.” He shook his head. “No. That would be terrible. I cannot let that happen.”
Vincent took him aside and tried to convince him. The group couldn’t hear the conversation but they heard Decki moan and hold his head in his hands as he were imagining what could happen on their hike.
After a few minutes of fervent arguing, Vincent rejoined the group. “Decki’s got some sense of responsibility but I convinced him. He's going along with us. Grab your backpacks and pack them with a change of clothes and your valuables…warm clothes too. Is everyone okay with this? If you're not okay with it, you can go back to Thimpu with the luggage and wait for us.”
Everyone nodded.
“Andiamo. Let's go,” Tullio said fiercely.
“Make sure you have your passports and visas with you. Ty, I’ll help you carry your camera equipment. Rishi, grab your stuff, then help me distribute our equipment. All this archaeological gear--who convinced me we needed it? Let’s go. Decki how far is it to the next town?”
“I believe about 8 kilometers.”
“Okay, then let’s try to get there before dark.”
Within minutes everyone was loading their backpacks with the redistributed equipment. Vincent sent the drivers back to their hotel in Thimpu with their luggage. He promised them a large sum of money when the group got back, as long as their belongings were intact.
The group started down the embankment. It looked steep from the road but they found plenty of brush to hold onto. The ground was soaked, their boots sinking and slipping. Rather than taking steps straight down they slid sideways, holding on to bushes protruding through the mud and to each other. It didn’t take them very long to arrive at a spot where they could hike latterly across the mud. They got to the other side easily but got spattered and filthy in the process.
“This was your idea, Oliver, right?” Professor Lobinsky griped. He struggled with his pack, panting.
When they started back uphill on the other side of the slide they were all breathing heavily. Tullio’s face was red and sweat dripped from him, leaving wide swaths of darker fabric around his armpits and a wide stripe down his back, but he didn’t complain. Ty surmised his ego wouldn’t permit him to show any weakness.
Ty grabbed one handhold after another, looking at Rishi’s legs ahead of him, concentrating on finding a solid place to take his next step. He didn’t take very many belongings but his pack was heavy and he had to lean forward to balance himself. He didn’t look around to see how the others were faring; he just kept going, trying not to slip backward.
Ty thought about how the night before they left Jenna wished she were going with him. He wondered how she would have dealt with this forced hike. She’s a trooper. She’d probably smile the whole time, without one complaint. When they reached the road again, Ty slid his pack to the ground and sat down to catch his breath, relieved to be on flat pavement again. Tullio sat with his head bent forward between his knees, recovering silently. Preston slid his pack off and stood with a smug smile, proud of his being in good shape. Richard lay on his side, leaning on one elbow, heaving heavily. Beads of sweat dotted the sparse blond hair at his temples.
Vincent and the students fared much better but still, Rishi reached into his pack and pushed a piece of nicotine gum through the foil blister pack. It fell on the ground and when he reached into his pack for another piece the expression on his face took on a look of horror.
“Oh my God! How could I have forgotten my nicotine!” he roared, leaning backward, squinting into the sun. Rishi looked at the piece of gum on the road for a second, picked it up and popped it into his mouth. “That was five seconds, right? Last piece until we get back to Thimpu,” he said bitterly.
The road was deserted on the other side of the mudslide. It had occurred to Ty while he was hiking that it would be nice to see a line of cars when they got to the top, ready to turn around and go back the way they came when they saw the blockage. Now it looked as if there was not going to be an easy ride into Trongsa. They had just picked up their packs again when a car approached and stopped. The couple was surprised to see stranded Americans and with friendly faces, they gestured for them to get in. Vincent sent Tullio and Richard ahead, smashed into the back seat with the couple’s three young children.
The others began to walk. Ty could easily imagine he was walking along a country road in Colorado. Every so often he was reminded of the difference when they came upon bright prayer flags, vertical poles stuck in the ground, topped with brightly-colored, fluttering triangles of fabric. It would have been a pleasant walk except Ty nervously looked backward every so often, expecting to see the car with his European attackers come up behind them.
The time stretched into one hour and then edged toward two. Oliver entertained the others with funny stories and insults toward his fellow team members. Only Rishi, crabby and grumbling, was exempt from the banter.
At one point Oliver remarked, “You sure have been chewing that same piece of gum for a long time.”
“Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood,” Rishi growled back.
When the next car approached them they flagged it down and Decki explained the mudslide. They squeezed Decki in and before they turned around, everyone insisted that Rishi go with them too.
Decki yelled out the window that he would send a car back for them. As they approached Trongsa they could see it in the distance in the valley but maddeningly, the road they were on circled the valley in a gently sloping approach.
The sky was turning pink when the car Decki promised finally arrived. It brought them the last half a mile to the Trongsa guest house, where the rooms in the inn were plain but clean.
The next day Decki disappeared during breakfast, trying to scrounge up some rides. He reappeared with a pickup truck with a small cab and an open flatbed in the back. The whole group wouldn’t fit and they realized they’d have to split up to travel. They decided the grad students would take the first ride and with some trepidation, Vincent agreed that Ty could go with them.
They were silent at first, huddled down in the back of the truck, seeking protection against the wind. Ty watched the beautiful scenery go by. The newly-risen sun filtered beams of light through the trees. There was mist on the ground. The morning air was crisp and chilly but Ty was sure the mist would burn off and it would be hot by the afternoon.
Therese pulled a tube of sunscreen out of her pack and smeared some on her face.
“Is this how they travel in the Ozarks?” Oliver cracked loudly, to be heard over the sound of the old truck motor. He directed his comment towards Therese. “I’ll bet you have a lot of practice riding in the backs of trucks.”
“Very funny, Oliver. People seem to think we’re backward and uncivilized in Missouri. We’re not, okay?” Therese retorted.
“I don’t know. You seem sort of like a hillbilly to me. Open your mouth. Let me see if you have all your teeth.”
Therese grimaced and gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Here.” She passed the sunscreen to him. “I’m sure your baby-white skin fries in the sun.”
Rishi, who had sunken down into his jacket, was morose, obviously operating on autopilot. He sat up and showed renewed interest.
“You know, you guys argue like you’re married,” Rishi observed. He seemed to be fishing to see if there was some spark igniting between the two.
“Ugh, don’t even think it,” Therese said. “We hillbillies never hook up with uneducated, uncultured slobs.” She grimaced again at Oliver.
“Is that what you think of me?” Oliver raised his eyebrows.
Therese sniffed and looked away. “Well if the shoe fits…”
“It so happens that my parents are both professors at Columbia University. I grew up in New York City in a beautiful apartment on 96th street and West End Avenue. I went to all the finest private schools so I have plenty of education and culture.”
Ty was surprised that Oliver did not crack a joke at Therese’s insult. It seemed that he wanted to impress her.
“It so happens that I’m not a hillbilly either so don’t call me one.”
The others watched her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.
“My father is a lawyer and my mother is an obstetrician.” Therese continued, “My brother, sisters and I went to private schools too.”
“I wish I had brothers and sisters. I’m an only child.” He laughed and gave her hair a playful tug. “So you are a blue blood.”
Therese smiled at him.
“Actually, I’m the hillbilly,” Cheryl said.
All eyes turned toward her.
“Yep, born and raised in West Virginia. My dad is a coal miner. I’m a girl from the patch. My Mom is a teacher. I have five little brothers.”
“I am so surprised,” Rishi said drily.
Ty always had difficulty discerning whether Rishi was being serious or sarcastic.
“Well, I’m surprised too,” Oliver said genuinely. “You seem to be like a New York City girl.”
“I thought you were a Jersey girl from the suburbs,” Ty added.
“Isn’t that funny. I thought you might be from the Midwest,” Therese said.
“It’s a peculiar talent,” Cheryl said. “I seem to be everyone’s “girl next door.” I have met so many people that tell me I’m like the girls back home…and all these people are from different places.”
“Yes, you seem just like an Indian girl to me,” Rishi said, this time with obvious sarcasm.
“You don’t have to be like that, Rishi.” Therese turned to Cheryl. “It probably means you can fit in anywhere, be at home with any kind of people. I wish I could be like that. It is a talent.”
“So you’re a coal miner’s daughter. I would never have guessed,” Oliver said.
“Well, you don't twang,” Rishi said, “too badly,” he added as an afterthought.
“How about you, Rishi?” Therese asked.
Rishi sniffed and looked away, as if he were too good to answer.
“Yeah, Rishi, I can tell you're not from West Virginia but I have no idea...,” Oliver said.
Therese interrupted, “He could be royalty.”
Rishi had a faint smile as he turned back. “Nothing would please my parents more than being royalty. They're filthy rich, owning many businesses in India, which they are content to let my uncle take care of. They only care about their social life, knowing and associating with the right people. They found London’s social life the most stimulating, possibly because the British have such a prominent royalty there, so that’s where they moved. They view my fascination with antiquities as a lark, a little hobby I am doing until I tire of it and join them in London society.”
“Is that how you view it?” Ty asked.
“No, of course not. This is my life, my chosen profession.”
At that moment the truck lurched over to the side of the road and eased along, over the ruts and potholes, to let another car pass.
The car passing them had all its windows open. Waving arms and hoots and hollers emerged from it, then died away as the car disappeared down the road in front of them.
“It’s the professors! Holy crap, they’re like a bunch of little kids,” Oliver said.
“Do you think Preston was yelling too? I can’t imagine it.” Therese added with a giggle.
“He is a bit of a stiff, isn’t he?” Rishi said.
“Oh, he’s okay,” Oliver said. “He’s got some good points.”
“Why are you defending him?” Rishi asked.
“He's helped me when he didn't have to.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re his personal grad student...or his personal slave,” Cheryl snickered. “He’s the one who is going to give you your Ph.D.”
“I don’t see much that’s likeable about him either,” Ty volunteered.
“What's he ever done to any of you?” Oliver asked.
“He always treats me like a little kid,” Ty said.
“Everything that comes out of his mouth is designed to establish his superiority in every which way,” Cheryl said.
“Naah, he's okay. You'd be surprised,” Oliver said.
Just a few minutes later the truck pulled over again to the side of the mountain to let another car pass, jostling the occupants in the back.
Ty was startled to see that although the car had a Bhutanese driver, the same two men he had seen in Thimpu were also in the car, one face in front and another, eerily similar face in the back. “Oliver, they’re here” he said, with a shivery feeling of dread infusing his body.
“I see.”
The car passed them. The men glanced at them, then quickly averted their faces when they saw the group scrutinizing them.
Ty involuntarily sank down to hide himself from their view. “Do you think they are the same men we saw in Israel?” he asked.
“Yeah, but how can that be?” Oliver asked.
“It’s so hard to believe they’d follow us all the way here.”
“Is it the treasure? Is that what they want?” Cheryl asked, shaking her head.
Oliver shrugged. “It must be.”
“I just have a hard time believing that,” Cheryl said.
“Why?” Rishi asked. “It could be worth a ton of money.”
“Well, they certainly are not interested in us,” Therese said. “They’re following the professors.”