Tales from the Inn in the Middle of Nowhere

CHAPTER I: The Visitor

The primeval three-wheeled bike-cab halted unsteadily in front of an old schoolhouse. The passenger alighted from the wayfaring junk, thankful to end the bruising travel experience. He pushed the bridge of his glasses upward and looked around quizzically. A grey, outdated, family sedan quietly passed by. He turned his attention to the toothless tricycle driver to ask for directions. The driver pointed towards a narrow passage and before the commuter could ask for enlightenment, the motored vehicle bolted away. Left by himself in front of the narrow pathway sandwiched by high walls on both sides, he rubbed his neck as he figured out his dilemma. The street was peculiarly quiet. A few men stood at a considerable distance, curious of the newcomer. An old woman was sitting in the waiting shed near the school gate. He took a few steps towards her but checked himself when he heard her talking to herself loudly. He looked at the men again and they were sniggering. He turned back to where he was before. The tapered view of the long passageway looked uninviting. He adjusted the straps of his backpack, released a deep sigh, and began to tread the footpath.

As he reached the end of the two walls, the track surprisingly opened to a lush thicket of indistinguishable shrubs and trees. He paused lengthily- trying to scan the unfamiliar sight in the dimming light of day. Half-past five. That's what his watch told him as he checked. He began to regret his impulse to spend the weekend out of the radar. Ten years as a segment writer for a popular magazine program on television had taken its toll and he was on the verge of burnout. So, it was a timely coincidence that his producer sent him on a quest for something "extraordinary". It was not that easy though. He was practically clueless as to what exactly could be "extraordinary". Thankfully, three days ago he saw the ad online. It was offering the same "weekend getaway" to all individuals who just had enough of urban living and wish to "return to nature" and "forget the hassle of city living" with the promise of "transporting you to another world" for a fraction of the price of a two-day stay in a four-star hotel. It was practically a steal! It's not that he's a cheapskate. With his salary, he could choose a luxurious vacation outside of the country--should he want to. But he could not stand to be in another place crammed with tourists. His mind craved peace and quiet. He wished to connect with Mother Nature. Besides, there was something oddly different about the ad. It was not working too hard to attract customers, but the simplicity of its layout had somehow achieved the necessary effect on the target customers. Lifestyle and leisure story it is then. He packed his bag and jumped on a bus on his way to the secluded retreat—with his fingers crossed. Looking at the expanse of undergrowth before him, nothing would probably be closest to nature than where he was at that moment. Then again, as he looked hard at the crooked unfamiliar trail, he fervently wished to be back to his accustomed city. Still, he wondered why his feet moved forward as if with a mind of their own.

The footpath descended into a dead stream. Unsure of his next step, his brows drew closer together. Then he saw it–-a goat! He half ran in his descent to catch up with the animal. A blue nylon rope was tied around its neck. He looked around in search of the herder as he tried to grab the end of the rope. Surprised by the man's action, it sprinted away. But the man was right behind- determined not to lose sight of the goat. Bleating wildly in panic, it took refuge in the dense part of the woods where it vanished. Unnerved by the sudden disappearance of the animal, the breathless stranger felt the beginning of fear for the first time. He unslung his backpack and searched for his cell phone. Damn! No signal. Frustrated, he looked up at the dark gray sky framed by the shadows of tall trees. He turned around slowly in a full circle before lowering his gaze in front of a thick cluster of bamboo; wondering how he got there. He found the trail once more, just right across the bamboo. It ascended this time; and he struggled on his way up, only to find out that it sloped downward again to another dead stream. It looked familiar. He scanned the space with arms on his hips. It couldn't be! He'd passed through there a quarter of an hour ago. Could I be walking in circles? Logic told him that it was impossible. He could not have returned to where he came from. But he's not sure anymore.