"I thought yetis were... hogwash."
Happy-go-lucky Danian is surfing in Bali during term break when he finds himself smitten with Indira, a fervent climate activist. Eager to impress her and learn the true purpose of his life, he agrees to help find...
Danian nearly knocked the glass box off its pillar. He scanned the room again; his eyes had adjusted better to the faint light by now. And yes, over there in the far-right corner, he could make out a shadow. Taking a few steps to the side to get a better angle, he made out a man who seemed to sit with his legs crossed on a prayer mat. The stranger wore a monk's coat over a down jacket, the hood covering his face.
"To Tengboche for the festival," said the seemingly motionless figure. Then he picked up his deep, meditative breathing again.
Indira turned around and dragged Danian out by his elbow.
"Wasn't the idea to inquire about Kenzo?" Danian asked, narrowing his eyebrows.
"Something's off." Indira tried to sound firm but couldn't help a faint tremor in her voice.
The sun had set, and it was stinging cold outside. In the light of the moon, they made their way to the teahouse, where they met up with Kurna and devoured Sherpa stews. Indira didn't contribute much to their conversation, but Kurna confirmed that only a few people had stayed behind. Most of Khumjung's residents had journeyed to Tengboche, their destination for the next day.
Danian woke up with a hammering headache, and Indira persistently knocking at his door in what felt like the middle of the night. He climbed out of his sleeping bag, accidentally kicking the Nalgene bottle onto the floor. Following Indira's advice, Danian had started a shared sleeping arrangement with that bottle. He carefully filled it up with boiling water at night and then cozied up next to it to stay lovely warm. He grabbed some painkillers and slushed them down with the now lukewarm water out of that same bottle. He remembered how Kurna had lured him into eating some local chilli with his stew last night, praising it as a secret remedy against altitude sickness. A fist of fire had hit him in the face then kept raging down his throat. Yet here he was, ridden by headache.
Danian dressed into as many layers as still allowed for some basic manoeuvrability, then stepped outside to greet Indira, who looked as fresh as after a spa retreat. Together they walked off into the arctic night. Some dogs lay curled up in the wide-open space between their teahouse and the school, bracing themselves with their long fur against the frosty night temperatures. One of them lifted its head. Its tail started wagging, it uncurled, stretched in an extended downward-facing-dog asana, then bolted up and came bouncing towards them. It had a thick coat, white on the bottom, grey sides, black on top, looked like a husky, just a lot bigger. Indira pulled something from under her jacket, making Danian stop in his tracks and wonder if pepper spray could keep that dog's monster at bay.
But it was already too late. The canine giant howled and buried its massive head in Indira's jacket.
She screeched, then lovingly hugged the furry teddy bear.
"Meet my old friend Pabu."
"He's big," Danian uttered, still too tired for more words. He let his fingers run through Pabu's all-weather coat.
The dog inhaled the treat Indira had brought along and followed them to a steep single track before wandering off again. Close to the top of the hill, Danian ran out of air. His lungs burned with every inhale of the frisk, slightly oxygen-deprived air. He kept trudging up, just slower, a step at a time. Around one last bend. Then another. Until he climbed up a rock to finally reach the top, a small round plateau encircled by a low stone wall. Indira had already made herself comfortable on it, legs crossed, hands on her knees, facing away from him, presumably with her eyes closed.
"Sit down here." She padded the stones, her voice barely a whisper.
His heavy breathing must have given his presence away. Danian slumped onto the wall and awkwardly arranged his legs. Slowly his lungs seemed to get more comfortable with the amount of oxygen they received. With his eyes closed, he felt the texture of the rocks, straightened his back, relaxed.
Danian thought for a moment of his mum. Sometimes, slinking through their living room in the wee hours after a particularly long night out, he would find her slowly moving through a series of yoga poses. It was her routine to settle down after a night shift at the hospital.
Danian pushed the memory aside when Indira asked him with a calm voice to shift his attention into his open palms.
"Imagine, you would hold an energy ball between your hands."
"Um, ok," Danian stuttered.
"And shut up," she said in the most loving way possible.
It didn't take long for Danian to experience a warm, tingly feeling and a subtle energy field pushing back against his palms. Indira guided him to expand the energy ball until his arms were fully outstretched, and a heart-warming sparkle surged from his chest throughout his entire body. He felt incredibly at peace.
The first sunbeams turned the clouds on the horizon pink. No wind, no noise, no pounding head. It seemed as if Danian had left the weight of his headache at the foot of the climb.
But not his phone. Beep, beep, beep, pierced through the silence, tore it apart for a moment. Danian unzipped his pocket and looked at the display. He hadn't had any reception for over a day, but now a message popped up: Hope you're having a fantastic time. Catch some waves for me. Love. Mum.
Danian smiled, took off his hat and snapped a selfie with the sunlight thinly radiating between the mountain peaks. Before hitting send, he lay a filter over the photo to make the mountains disappear into the white clouds in the backdrop. He texted back: Surf is super. Made fantastic friends. Face blowing a kiss emoji.
"Did you notice anything strange yesterday at the monastery?" Indira asked after finishing her meditation.
"Um... a yeti skull for once."
"No, I mean with the...," she hesitated, "monk?"
"Not very chatty. But that's part of the profession, isn't it?"
"Did you feel anything?" Indira probed.
Danian spent a moment in forceful introspection. "Damn cold. Worse than the last couple of days."
"Yes. Coldness," Indira stretched the word to its linguistic boundaries. "That's what I felt too. And darkness. Utter darkness."
A creepy sensation slowly made its way up Danian's spine, for his friend's voice lacked her usual determination. It was the first time she seemed intimidated in any way.
They climbed down from their formidable viewpoint without speaking a single word. The village dogs yawned and stretched in preparation for a new wintery day. Kurna waited with breakfast and hot tea.
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