Chai on the Mountaintop

Following the Flower

The bus climbed the steep unforgiving curves leading to the mysterious village. A village which few had heard of and even fewer had seen. This bus it seemed was the only mode of transport in or out. Let me get this straight. I'm not adventurous. The Scientific Society however deemed me worthy to go on a wild goose chase after a flower as mythical as its name. The Dragon Lily. The flower had popped up on many a journals, however it took the untimely death of an explorer who had gone after it, for it to get some credence. Instead of sending in a homicide squad, they send in a pale botanist.

I was reluctant at first, mostly because I lacked a death wish. I had heard not so pleasant rumors about the place. Some called the place Weridan, some called it Tonga, some referred to it as The village. As the roads got higher, all traces of modern civilization faded away. Periodical milestones were all that remained.

I opened the book of the late Dr. Isaac Sacharin, the first and as fate would have it, the last one to see the flower. His notes were wrinkled, the letters fading away. I flipped to the last entry.

"The flower is real. It's everything I imagined it would be and more. The world of biology is sure to undergo a radical change, I'm sure. The only thing that remains is to collect a sample and return. Auf Weidersehn!" The entry was dated on the 28th of July, roughly a week before his body was found at the bottom of Tonga falls.

Every time I read the same entry, I couldn't help but notice the fragility of life. It's unpredictability. Also pure terror. His death was still being looked into, although it seemed to point to natural cases. I left the worrying thoughts at the back of my head and looked at the positive of things. If I found this, not only would I prove the credibility of my late friend, I'd also achieve one of my goals as a botanist; to be taken seriously.

My thoughts distracted me from the slightly annoyed bus driver who indicated I had reached the end of my journey. I stepped down in a hurry, only to see a beaten trail and oblivion around me.

"Where is the village?" I asked the driver who was in a hurry to get back.

"East from here. This is as far as I go" He replied hastily.

I looked down the path and searched for my bearings. In my confusion, I failed to notice my fellow passenger who had also gotten down.

"Are you headed to The Village?" I asked. He smiled and nodded and walked off down the path. Reluctantly, I followed.

For an old guy, he sure walked fast. I struck up a conversation with him, in hopes that he won't abandon me. He called himself Velu and he owned the only shop in Tonga(which is what he calls the village). His name and the ability to make chai(tea)were the only things his Indian parents had given him before they left him 53 years ago.

As he concluded his life story, the path got considerably thicker. Velu led ahead with a small machete to clear the path. A worrying thought came to mind. No one knew where I was. If something were to happen to me, they wouldn't even know where to look. I looked down at my phone and as I had expected, no signal. Just then, something grabbed my collar. I panicked and swerved to look at my attacker. It was Velu. "CAREFUL!"He bellowed. As I looked ahead, I saw a mile deep gorge I would've fallen into if he hadn't caught me.

"The path is dangerous! Do not get distracted!" He warned. I mentally kicked myself for almost accidentally killing myself. I cleared my mind and followed the veteran tea maker into the wild.

The climb got steep. Very steep. It made the bus route I had taken look like a molehill. Finally, we got to the precipice after nearly 3 hours of trekking. My entire body ached and begged for rest. Velu stopped and pointed at a wall and houses within it in the distance and declared "Tonga"

The trek got easier from there. The path became less scary and more mesmerizing. Flowers, trees, shrubs, mountain ranges, snow capped mountain tops in the distance. It was a view no one would forget. We reached the outskirts of the village. Around it was a wall made of sturdy wood. At the makeshift gate, stood a person who would put body builders to shame. He nodded at Velu and stared at me.

"He's okay. Not harmful." Velu said. The gatekeeper let me pass. "Why such security?" I asked Velu. "Privacy is important to us. Secrets are better kept when people don't interfere here."

"That doesn't answer my question." I replied

" These people you see here, are misfits. They fit in here. Just leave it at that."

His answers only seemed to ask more questions and something told me he wasn't exactly going to tell me. I walked inside the village. What struck me most was that each house was different from the other. As in, they looked like they were built by people from different parts of the world, from different points in time. Some looked Mongolian, some European, and a few other styles I didn't recognize.

"This place is..." I was spellbound. Velu just smiled and walked on. We came to the what seemed like the center of the village. I saw a small shack with smoke coming through the chimney. Velu went in and put his luggage, consisting of spices among other things and donned an apron. He put the kettle(an old pot) over the fire.

"Um...Where can I stay for the night?" I asked

"Ahh.. Yes. Just follow the path up till the edge. Rachel will take you in.

I gathered one thing. The people here were from different parts of the world. Each abandoned or fed up with civilization, finding their own way in here.

I turned to leave. "Oh..What is your name?" Velu asked. "Michael" I replied.

"Tomorrow, Michael, we'll go after the Dragon Lily" He said

"oh..WAIT..I never told you why I was here!" I exclaimed.

"You should get going Michael Hess, The village is cold after dark. Tell Rachel I sent you." He replied

"How did you know my last name?!" I asked, with fear and confusion. Velu was silent.

I immediately started to realize something was very wrong about this place. I looked at my phone once more. No signal. There was no one around. All the buildings seemed empty. Terror and doubt gripped me. Regret poured over. I finally found the strength to make my way to Rachel's Inn, quite certain I wouldn't survive the night.