The Amber Trail (22 page)

“
They are extremely
rare in India.” the priest said. “To see one here is, well,
completely irregular. In fact, I think they are from
Australia.”

Dig narrowed his eyes. “How do
you know that?”

“
Well, I’m a
small-time priest, and big-time birdwatcher. That's why I took the
position up here. There are hundreds of species living in these
cliffs. But none of these guys. Not ever.”

The bird took a few steps toward
Dig, then stopped.

“
So close!” the
priest whispered, and grabbed Dig’s arm. His fingernails dug into
his skin.

Dig studied the animal. It was
small, about the size of his palm, with green wings and a lower
body of bright blue. Its head was a pale yellow, and a black stripe
of feathers ran across its eyes. “I know these birds,” Dig said. “I
think they have a nest in the chimney of my home...in
Australia.”

“
You see?”

Dig nodded, but something else
nagged at him. He leaned in and studied the bird again. Then it hit
him. It was the same species that distracted the driver as he hid
on the truck travelling to the docks.

“
And I saw one of
these in Goa,” he said, blinking rapidly. “And...in a tunnel in
Hampi. It ate a hornet that was about to attack me.”

“
Aah yes.” The
priest’s eyes lit up. “As the name suggests, they only eat
insects...and bees and wasps in particular.” He glanced at Dig.
“But if you have seen it many times before, then that explains
it.”

“
That explains
what?”

“
That explains where
it came from.”

“
I didn’t smuggle it
over if that’s what you mean.”

The man smiled. “There is more to
our world than our physical form. We all have connections with the
world around us. Some stronger than others. You have a bond with
this creature. Your auras are intertwined. I felt it when you first
arrived.”

Dig raised his
eyebrows.

“
You don’t feel
it?”

Dig shrugged and looked back down
at the animal. “No.” He scratched his arm. “But, even if I did,
what does it mean?”

“
That’s for you to
figure out. We Hindus believe in spiritual affinity with the
animals. We also believe in Samsara, or reincarnation.”

“
Reincarnation?”

“
Yes,” the priest
said. “Now please. Just relax for a moment.”

Dig frowned and tried to sit
still.

The bird turned its head, then
slowly stepped forward along the wall until it was inches from
Dig’s leg. Dig expected it to take a peck at the bread roll tucked
under his arm—but instead, its beak tugged twice at the pocket of
his pants before the bird chirped loudly. It then turned and took
flight, gliding out over the edge of the cliff and
disappearing.

“
Wow,” the priest
said, watching it go. “Just amazing.” He nodded slowly. “This
really is a special day.”

Dig pursed his lips.

“
Don’t you agree?
Aren’t you happy to be part of that?”

Dig gave a weak smile. “Yeah,
sure.”

The man looked up at the sky,
took a deep breath, and let it out again. “So what brings you to
India?”

Dig paused. “I came here to sort
out a...family issue.”

“
Okay. And have you
had success?”

“
No. It’s not looking
good at the moment.”

“
Well maybe this
should be a lesson. We all face challenges at some point in our
lives. To arrest it, you need to get out of your head and be more
aware of the world around you.” He reached over and tapped his
finger on Dig’s temple.

Dig ducked away and smiled. He
looked in the sky for the bird, but it was gone.

He thought about the animal
tugging at his shorts. After a moment, he reached into the pocket
and emptied the contents out to the wall. A handful of coins
spilled out with a remnant of dried sausage, and a folded, wrinkled
piece of paper.

He lifted the paper and opened it
out to press it flat on the top of the wall. It was the Banyan
invoice.

He studied the invoice closely.
He understood most parts of it—such as the description of the hops
and the bank details, but there were a couple of parts that
confused him.

He held the invoice out to the
priest. “Do you know what this means?” he said. “Customs
Shabdkosh?”

“
Shabdkosh means tax
in Hindi. So that would be a customs tax.”

Dig nodded slowly. He then looked
down at the final payment item on the invoice—the mystifying
Bay-ta Brewer’s Yeast
that he had never seen delivered in
Australia.

“
And this word?
Bay-ta
?”

The man turned down his lips.
“Bay-ta means son.”

“
Sun? As in up in the
sky?”

“
No,” the man said.
“As in father and son.”

Dig felt a quickening in his
chest.
“
So this is a
son
payment?”

The man leaned forward and looked
at the paper. “It looks like it.”

Dig’s eyes widened and he stared
out over the lake. “This is...crazy.”

He sat there for a few minutes,
staring at the horizon, before he turned back to the priest. “I’ve
got it.”

But the priest was gone, and the
courtyard was empty.

Dig’s brow furrowed. “Did he
just...disappear?”

“
No,” shouted a
voice, and the priest’s head leant around the courtyard wall. “I’m
just taking a piss.”

Dig pushed himself to his feet.
“I think I need to go now.”  

“
Okay. Then good luck
with your family issues. But remember, get out of your head, and be
aware of your surroundings. And watch out for your beautiful
friend.”

Dig nodded, then turned to jog
back down the hill.

The sun was blazing in the middle
of the sky when he returned to the hotel. Jules sat on the balcony,
her legs resting on the railing. She wore a shirt with green
flowers imprinted on it. Her eyes were sullen.

“
Hey
there.”

Jules turned, then looked back at
the view. “Hey.”

“
I brought you a
coffee and some bananas.”

“
Thanks.” She took
them from him. “Where did you go?”

“
I just needed to
walk. I had lots to think about. You okay?”

She shrugged.

Dig ran a hand through his hair.
“Well maybe I can cheer you up,” he said with butterflies dancing
in his stomach. “As I might have figured some things
out.”

“
What do you
mean?”

Dig handed her the Banyan
invoice.

“
What’s
this?”

“
An invoice from the
Banyan Brewery. To our company back in Australia.” He pointed to
it. “Look at this payment—for
Bay-ta Brewer’s
Yeast
.”

Jules’ face was blank.

“
We’ve never been
delivered any yeast from Banyan. They only sent us hops. Which got
me thinking about this
Bay-ta
bit.”

“
Bay-ta? Doesn’t that
mean—”

“
Son,” Dig said,
nodding quickly. “I’m thinking it was some type of veiled payment
for a son, like, you know, maintenance or something...for Maxine’s
son.”

“
She has a
son?”

“
I met him in Hampi.
His name was Raj. And she has a husband too...Girish is his name.
But I don’t think Girish is Raj’s father.” He swallowed. “I think
it might have been my dad.”

“
But that would make
that Raj boy your—”

“
Half-brother.”

Jules’ eyes narrowed. “You sure
you aren’t overreacting here?”

“
I don’t think so.
Remember back at the bar? Maxine said something about me coming
over here to
break up her family
. Now I understand why she
said it. She thought I knew.”

“
Well that would
explain why Maxine was exporting the hops to your dad. It did seem
strange.”

Dig blinked. “I didn’t think of
that.”

“
And it would also
explain why she pulled the deal as soon as your dad
died.”

“
You’re right!” Dig
paced around the room, nodding. “This is...great! If Dad was
receiving the hops as a way to disguise some type of secret
maintenance payment, then maybe we have a chance!”

Jules’ eyebrows knitted
together.

“
It’s time to go to
Hampi. And I’m going to tell Maxine if she doesn’t leave all of us
alone then I’m going to let out her precious secret.”

“
Are you sure this is
right?”

Dig took a deep breath. “No. But
at the same time, it’s the best we’ve got.”

“
And if you’re wrong?
Or she doesn’t care?”

“
Then we’re toast.”
Dig picked up his pack. “But I’m going for it. You
ready?”

She bit her lip, and
nodded.

They left the building and walked
down the main shopping street, looking for a taxi. As they passed
the tailor, the man with the turban waved from the doorway,
smiling. “Have a good trip Jules!” Jules gave him a quick wave and
dropped her head.

“
You know
him?”

“
I got him to make me
this shirt this morning. I ripped my other one when we ran from the
train.”

Dig smiled. “You should have told
me you were going. I’m low on clean undies. He could have whipped
me up a few.”

“
Green flowery ones
as well?”

“
Of
course.”

They found a taxi at the end of
the street, and settled into the back seat. The car threaded
through the alleys at the base of the cliffs before pulling out
onto the open road. Dig glanced at the top of the cliff as he
passed.

“
Do you know much
about Hindus?
”
he said.
“
You know, religion wise?”

“
A bit.
Why?”

“
I met a Hindu priest
up on the cliff this morning who was screwing with my mind. Talking
about stuff like spiritual connections and
reincarnation.”

Jules’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t
know about reincarnation. But I believe a person’s spirit still
hangs around after they die.”

“
In what
way?”

She picked at her skirt. “A close
friend of mine died last year. And it wasn’t until she was gone
that I realised the important place she had in my life, and the
spirit that left with her. I realised I took our relationship a bit
for granted, you know?” She gave a small shrug
,
then met Dig’s gaze. Bags hung below her eyes.
“But then I realised she wasn’t totally gone. She still popped up
in my mind now and then...at the weirdest times. I could feel her.
It was like her spirit came to visit—the same as when she was
alive.” She sighed. “So these days, when I think of her, it makes
me more happy than sad. Because I know she hasn’t totally gone, and
I know that she’s still looking out for me.”

Dig stared out the window. A
small tingling rush crept up the back of his neck, and he fought
back tears that built in the corners of his eyes.

“
You father only just
died right?” Jules said. “Give it some time, and you might start to
feel him turn up in everyday life. You just have to keep your eyes
open.”

Dig shrugged and gave her a weak
smile.

AS THE TAXI APPROACHED HAMPI
the
nerves ramped up in Dig’s stomach and he bit his fingernails
ragged. Jules hugged her knees to her chest.

“
Excuse me driver,”
she said in a wavering voice. “Can you stop for a toilet break
soon?”

The driver nodded, and a short
time later they turned off the road into an ancient petrol station
with two rusted pumps standing in a weed-covered forecourt. The
driver killed the engine and began to fill up.

Jules retrieved her bag and
stepped out to the tarmac. “Won’t be long.”