Black Blood

Chapter 95

The peaks of the Andes rise above the hills in the distance. The swamp landscape has given way to hills. Here and there, large white boulders rise above the grass. The paths have changed to white stone mountain paths. We have left the trees behind. All that is visible are long green plains full of stone and water. The birds and ibexes have their homes here. We can conclude that after the large numbers we have already seen.

The day is longer and seems to get longer with every step. The sun is starting to make its way behind the horizon and a cold wind has picked up. We are lucky that the rain didn't come, until now. The sky is grey and the water is falling in buckets. My dress is soaked through and hangs from my body like concrete. My hair hangs down like wet towels from my face and the cold is almost unbearable.

The conversations between me and Novak are steady. We are silent, looking ahead, trying to keep our eyes open through the blanket of rain. It won't be long before we reach our accommodation.

It takes another half an hour of driving in the pouring rain before our accommodation appears behind the hills. At the foot of a big blue lake stands a small wooden house. The lake is huge, the other side is barely visible. On all sides of the lake, the hills stick out above it. As if it were a bowl that you made with your hands as a child to take water from the river. In the distance, a herd of goats walks, helping to keep the grass short.

Novak puts his horse into a gallop and rides towards the cottage. I follow his example and am glad that the cottage is finally visible. With Rave, this journey would have been so much easier. Rave. I miss him terribly. There were longer times when I didn't see him, but the idea that I'll never see him again is what eats me up. It's the best decision for both of us, that's what I try to tell myself.

Novak stops at the door, dismounts from his horse and ties the reins to the fences that stand in a series around the cottage. I follow his example and walk with Novak to the door. It doesn't take long before the wooden door creaks open. An older woman with short grey hair and a brown dress stands in the doorway. Her facial expression is so neutral that I cannot tell if she is pleased to see us.

'You're late,' is the first and only greeting we receive.

'I apologise. We had some unexpected difficulties during the trip.' Novak refers to the rain, crossing a big river and our departure being later than planned. The woman nods and takes a step aside. Together with Novak, I walk into the house. It is small and everything you see is made of wood, even all the furniture. The kitchen and living area are together less than ten square metres. In the middle of the room is a set dining table. There are dozens of candles burning, illuminating the house. Both on the furniture and on the floor are dozens of animal skins. At the side, a fireplace is burning. It is warm inside and the whole house smells of stew.

'The food is on the fire and you can take it. Your room is the right door next to the kitchen. I won't be here tonight. There is a goat about to give birth to a lamb so I have to be there. I'm assuming you'll behave. I have a few house rules I'd like to remind you of. There will be no stealing or breaking of things, if this happens you will pay the price. The gas cooker must be switched off at night. The door is locked at night. I have the key so I can just go in. Are there any more questions?' I don't know to what extent you can call this a warm welcome, but anything is better than sleeping outside. She has cooked for us and offers us a warm bed, that's all I can ask. The house is cosy, the food smells good and it is warm. I will survive a night here.

'No, I have no questions. Thank you very much for your welcome and the food,' I reply. The woman nods and walks to the coat rack. Somehow I am glad of her imminent absence. The woman has a certain stiffness about her, an authority. As if she could give me a lecture any moment about what I'm doing wrong.
'What time do you think you'll be leaving tomorrow?' the woman asks as she shrugs on her long black coat.