Shambhala (16 page)

AS THE SUN
begins to make its descent, they come to a small hilltop overlooking a short valley nestled in the hills. Bahi sees a modest hut-looking abode with a small, fenced farm beside it. Smoke pours out: a white, milky dance billowing from the chimney.

“There it is,” Ajee says.

“That’s where he lives?” Bahi asks.

“Yep. He will know how to get to Shambhala. The Baba would speak of him often in the greatest reverence. The Wise One in the valley, he who has gone beyond day and night, neither living in the lowest valley or highest mountaintop, free from duality, living in the middle,” Ajee says staring in an almost trance.

Bahi is not really sure what that means, but it sounds good, and his excitement wells up as they descend the hill near the house. The evening air is thick with energy. Cold air swoops through the valley, pressing them back as if to slow down the nervous, rapid pace of Bahi. Standing now at the front of the hut, they feel warm as the sun burns a beautiful orange globe that lines the sky with a tangerine heaven. The woven, brown palm trees, which must have come from just south of there, glow in the orange hum of evening’s show. Comfort pours from the chimney as the smell of burning mango wood finds their nostrils, leading them toward the front door. Slowly extending his fist, Bahi gives a few light knocks, and stepping back waits in anticipation, nervous to find what’s on the other side of the door. A few moments of silence pass, and with another knock, this time a bit harder, he calls out, “Hello?”

The handle slowly turns as the door opens with a rustle of the leaf-covered opening. A short, white nun with a shaved head and yellow robes sticks her head out the half-open door, her round spectacles analyzing Bahi standing in front of Ajee. “Maha Bharat is not taking visitors at this time,” her quick-mannered, Australian accent informs before she pulls her bobbly head back in and slams the door shut. Bahi can hear a chain lock being secured as he turns to Ajee with his hands up, shrugging his shoulders.

“Tough break, buddy,” Ajee says.

“Break, nothin’, I didn’t come all the way here to turn back,” he replies in a huff.

“What are you gonna do?”

Remembering his conversation with the goat about patiently waiting, he resolves to do just that. “She said he is not taking visitors at this time. I guess I’ll wait until he is taking visitors.”

“And you’ll wait here?” Ajee asks looking around.

Bahi looks down at the small stoop before the front door, “Right here!”

“Sounds good to me.” Ajee smiles and lies down as Bahi sits up against the house, holding his knees to his chest with a cross look on his face. After a few moments of silence, Ajee looks up. “And we wait.”

“Yes Sir. We wait.”

The sky turns black and the stars begin to bleed through the vast firmament above. The cold night forces them to huddle up, wrapped in the shawl, uncomfortable and stubborn. Ajee falls asleep and sleeps soundly as opposed to Bahi, who gets a few winks at best, constantly adjusting to the cold, hard ground, trying different positions to shield the brisk wind running through the valley. Growing envious of Ajee’s thick fur and ability to fall fast asleep anywhere, he considers that perhaps they should have made a fire someplace close in the forest for the nights sleep. Yet his obstinance has kept him locked on this cold stoop of the small cottage. Bahi sits with his back against the house, watching as light projects over the hills in anticipation of the sunrise. He hears the lock unlatch and the door slowly creek open as he springs to his feet.

“You again. I thought I told you that Maha Bharat is not taking visitors at this time,” the stout, bald nun says again, sticking her head out the doorway.

“I know, but if I can . . . . ” The door slams before he can get the words out. Again he hears the chain lock secure from the inside. He lets out a sigh as he sits back down, frustrated, cold, and exhausted, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his tired head on his arms. His eyes are heavy and burning from a bitter, sleepless night, yet his resolve is thick, like a stubborn ass that won’t budge.

Ajee wakes up and stretches out, smiling from a deep and restful nights sleep. “I’ll fetch us some breakfast,” he says as he pops up and runs off through the valley.

Bahi can’t even think of eating, although he knows he is hungry. One part frustration and one part exhaustion has baked a certain knot in his stomach. Ajee returns twenty minutes later with another rabbit hanging lifeless in his jaws and flopping around as he nears Bahi. Ajee drops the prey at his feet as he licks the blood from his mouth. “This place is full of them. Dig in, Bahi!”

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” Bahi turns away in disgust, looking off into the valley in angst, avoiding Ajee’s cheery manner. His annoyance bred by sleeplessness and uncertainty is not in the mood to partake in conversation.

Ajee senses the uneasiness in Bahi, and clenching the hind legs of the inert rabbit with his jaws, walks a few feet away to eat his freshly killed breakfast. Bahi falls in and out of brief nods of sleep, and soon high noon shines warm sun from directly above. Bahi’s dry mouth and throat crave water, but he does not want to move from the stoop. A few hours later, thirsty and now feeling the pangs of hunger, the door unlatches and creeks open, quickly springing Bahi once again to his feet. The small, stocky nun walks outside with a wicker basket full of feed. “You’re a stubborn one, huh?” she says as she walks off into the yard, which is filled with dry hay and chickens. Bahi rounds his head, peeking out at her from the corner of the cottage as she tosses feed among swarming chickens.

Bahi walks over and approaches her. “Listen, please. I just need five minutes. That’s all.”

“Are you thirsty?” the nun asks.

“Yes, very.”

“Well, help yourself to the chicken water,” she points to a bucket of dirty water with feathers floating in it and walks off, back to the cottage.

“Ma’am, Ma’am, please,” Bahi pleads, briskly following behind her as she walks. She rapidly shuffles her short legs and stops abruptly, turning to Bahi, who almost runs into her.

“One,
Ma’am
is what you call my mother. And two, not
please
, but
thank you
,
thank you
for even allowing you to find the cottage. Now be a good boy and go eat with the chickens.” Her short speech is followed by another slam of the door.

“What does that even mean?” Bahi yells at the door.

“Well, well, seems like it’s going smooth,” Ajee says, teasing him.

“Ajee, not now, please.”

“Well at least we know where to find some chickens if we get hungry.”

Just then the door opens and the nun yells out, “If you touch so much of a feather on those chickens, you’ll be asleep so fast that when you wake up you’ll be reborn as the feed I throw on the dirt for them. Am I communicating, people?” They are both silent, taken aback. “Am I communicating?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Bahi concurs.

“Ma’am this!” she says as she slams the door again. Bahi smacks himself in the head.

“We are not off to a good start, Bahi.”

“No, we are not.”

“Wait a minute. How could she understand what I said? Can I talk to all humans now?” Ajee asks in wonder.

“I have no clue,” Bahi says, not caring about her understanding Ajee, but more concerned with how perturbed she was.

“Say, Bahi, how are you able to communicate with me? I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Bahi gives a brief explanation to a curious Ajee before walking off in frustration to the yard. Pacing with the chickens Bahi can’t help but notice the nice, calm energy that surrounds the house. The sun beats down on him, and his dry, cracked lips beg for water. Going over to the fowls’ water, he kneels down, looking into the rectangular, long reservoir. He brushes off small, white feathers that float atop. One chicken looks at him curiously as he scoops some water into his hands and drinks. Ajee comes over, scattering the chickens as they fearfully retreat to the small barn at the back of the yard. Lapping up water, he lifts his head to look at Bahi, a small white feather sticking to his mouth.

“Oh jeez, get that off before we end up as chicken feed,” Bahi says quickly swiping the feather from his mouth. Spending the whole day in the yard, Bahi is now starving and decides he is going to fast until he can see Maha Bharat.

As night falls, they cuddle up among some hay. After a sleepless night and no food, Bahi falls fast asleep. In his sleep, he dreams he is knocking on the door again, and that again the nun comes out. Her pudgy bald head wears a sour puss, “Who do you think you are, coming here and thinking the great Maha Bharat will just see you? The Dalai Lama himself is on a waiting list. Go on. Go back from where you came. You have no business here.” Bahi tries hard, but can’t speak as the house sinks into a deep hole that caves in all around him, and suddenly he wakes up as dawn is again upon him. Curiously they are on the front stoop again. Bahi has no idea how they got there.

“Morning, buddy. Nightmare? You were yelling a bit there.”

“Yeah, I mean no, I mean I don’t know, I think we should leave.”

Just then the nun opens the door and places a tray with food on the ground. “Eat up,” she says before closing the door.

They rush over and feast on the steaming noodles, tofu, and vegetables. Bahi didn’t realize how hungry he was. He can feel the warmth of food slide down his throat and nestle comfortably in his empty stomach. After the meal they sit in the shade up against the front of the house.

“Do you wanna split?” Ajee asks.

“I don’t know, I mean, maybe I can find Shambhala on my own. What if he can’t help me to find it. If his speech is all cryptic like that nun’s, then I’m really in trouble,” Bahi laughs.

“I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

The door opens again and the nun steps out, “Still here, huh?”

“Yes, I have nowhere else to go,” Bahi implores.

“Nonsense. Look around you. This world is big. Just pick a direction and go.”

“Please Ma . . . ,” Bahi implores, stopping himself from saying
Ma’am
, “please, I beg of you, only five minutes.”

“Maha Bharat agrees to see you, but on one condition.”

“Sure, anything, what?”

“Tonight you sleep in the barn, and first you and I talk, and if it’s deemed beneficial he will see you.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bahi says lightening up for the first time in days.

“Oh, and another thing: the mutt’s gotta go,” she says looking over at Ajee.

“But he is my friend, I can’t”

“Then you can’t, and I’ll bid you a good day,” she turns to walk back into the house.

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just leaving anyway. Yeah, full moon party and all. You know us wolves.”

“It’s only a half moon,” Bahi points out.

“Yeah well, wow half moon already, we start preparing early, usually at the new moon, so I better get going,” Ajee says loudly as the nun stands unflattered by his lies.

“Listen, Bahi, this is why you are here. It’s not about me. When you’re done, whenever it is, two hours or two weeks, just whistle and I’ll come back,” Ajee whispers.

“You promise?”

“A wolf always keeps his word, well except that one time, but she was a little kookoo. And, oh, forget that, a wolf always keeps his word,” Ajee says puffing his chest up proudly.

Bahi bends down and hugs Ajee goodbye. “Thank you, friend,” Bahi says softly in his ear, “how can I ever repay you?”

“By staying here and finding the way to Shambhala. Now, can you whistle? Let me hear it!” Bahi lets out a loud whistle. “That a boy!” Ajee says as he walks off. “All right, Jack. See ya on the other side.”

“Be safe, Wolf. Thank you!” And with that Ajee runs off into the hillside, out of sight.

“Now you wait in the barn and I’ll come out in a while to talk.”

“Yes Ma’am, oh I’m sorry, I mean yes, what’s your name?”

“Robina, Venerable Robina,” she says.

“Yes, Venerable Robina, I’m Bahi.”

“Or is it Jack?”

“Jack, Bahi, Paul, I really don’t know.”

“You’re not on drugs are you?” she asks skeptically.

“No, no, ha ha definitely not, although if I told you how I got here you would bet otherwise.”

“OK, Bahi, off with ya, I’ll see you in an hour.” Robina closes the door softer than she had before.

Making sure she is totally in and can’t see him, he jumps up in silent celebration and with a smile makes his way to the barn. Opening the small, natural-wood-colored, barn door, two goats look up from their rest in a bed of hay. The rest of the barn is empty and clean except for hay that lines the floors and the loft that is led up by a makeshift latter reminiscent of the manger scene, “Where’s baby Jesus?” he asks out loud, humoring himself as he looks around.

“He’s here,” Robina says startling him to turn around.

“That was the quickest hour I ever experienced.”

“OK, let’s not be a wise ass, now sit down and tell me what you want with Maha Bharat.”

“Oh man, where do I start?”