The very first thing Veronica needed was a hotel room to freshen up. But she could not leave any trail behind. So asked the driver to stop right at the entry of the market.
The driver asked, "Don't you need a hotel to freshen up?"
"Who needs a hotel? I will just ask some questions to the Malkhans and go to my uncle's house near by," Veronica replied.
"Who is your uncle?"
"Advocate Neal," Veronica fabricated a name from her mind.
But the driver was very sticky. He asked, "Where does he live? I do not remember any advocate Neal residing over here."
Veronica thought: What the hell! Why are you so inquisitive? She wished to kick the driver out of his own car. But controlled her instinct and lied, "No you would not know him. He just moved here a week ago. How will you know him?"
The driver said, "I see. Otherwise I know almost every advocate around this place. Every doctor in this area. Highly educated people are scarce here. So you know. .."
Thanks goodness: thought Veronica. I came up with a good lie. Otherwise the sticky driver would not leave me here.
The driver slowed the car and halted, parking near the left of the road. She quietly got out of the vehicle.
Thanks goodness: Veronica thought. He is leaving. The driver veered the wheels and was leaving, then he halted, came out of the car and handing her a paper slip said, "This is my number. I am staying here for next twenty four hours. If you need me, please call me anytime."
She reluctantly took the slip of paper and pocketed it. Do not be my elder brother. Just go away.
Then the driver smiled a meek smile and got into the car. Then the car disappeared within a minute from her view.
She strode forward and after fifteen minutes she could see the market was thinning. And there were a bunch of hotels cum lodgings cluttered at one place. She chose the cheapest looking hotel among them and went inside. There was a boy, perhaps of nine or ten of age, sitting and dozing on the reception counter. Seeing her he smiled. She too exchanged a smile and said, "I want a room for two days."
The boy looked at the door of the hotel, as if expecting a male figure: like a father, a brother or even a boyfriend accompanying Veronica. When no one entered the doors he asked, "Sister, are you alone?"
"Yes. Why is that a problem?"
"Not at all. Please sign here," Saying so he handed her a pen and pointed at the place on the register notebook where to put the signature. She wrote Emma Watson on it. It was a common name, but she liked the name.
Then the boy asked again, "You do not have any luggage with you?"
"No, I did not have any luggage," Veronica said, playing her fingers in his hairs.
"Oh!" the boy gasped.
She knew the little boy sitting at the reception counter of this dilapidated hotel must be thinking her an odd guest. Let him. She was worried about two things: first whether she would find any clue about Andrew or not; second whether she was being followed by anyone. Well for her the second matter was of secondary importance. She was somewhat confident that no one would find her here. But there was a negative idea that bothered her confidence that if her unknown follower reads the manuscript she could also reach her easily. But she said to herself: I can not work if I fear so much and waste my time and energy fearing. But again she thought that no one would follow the junior most member of the crew instead of following Papa and others.
"Ok," said the boy sitting at the counter waking her off her slumbersome reverie. "Room number 17. Take the keys. Walk left after ascending the staircase, then turn right. That is your room. Room number 17. If you need anything just come down here and inform us. We will solve your problems."
Veronica smiled. For she understood that this boy must have learned these words from her father or the owner of the hotel. She did as was directed. Took the staircase and walked left, then turned right. There it was a lone room. Room number 17. Away from other rooms. Good. Perhaps seeing a girl the little boy must have given her this room. Perhaps his owner must have asked to give this room to anyone who came with a wife or a girl. Well with Veronica no one had come, yet she was a girl. That was why the boy must have given her the room. She thanked the little boy in her mind. Aloneness, aloofness and maintaining low profile were good tools she needed now. She unlocked the rickety door, entered in and switched on the tube light. It was a small room with attached toilet and bathroom. Well lit. It appeared that very recently it was whitewashed. There was a wooden bed lying just before her. She put her bag on it and went in for a shower. Came out of bathroom five minutes later dripping the floor. Her bag contained few dresses and a gun. She wore a jeans and a white top. Then went down. Paid the little boy two hundred bucks and checked out.
The boy asked, "Sister, you are checking out so quickly."
She smiled and left for the market. There she located a good hotel and entered there. There were several desks and chairs surrounding those desks. She chose the lone corner desk. The local customers were busy consuming spaghettis and doughnuts. She ordered an omlet. The serving man was an aged man. She asked him, "Grandpa, where can I find a Malkhan language translator?"
The serving man pointed toward some handmade posters pasted on the hotel walls. She had seen these posters at the lodging also. But did not read them thinking them unimportant. "Want a translator of Malkhan language!!! Contact me on 7978921325."
She thanked the serving man. Then straight on dialed the mobile phone number given on the poster. A popular romantic Pop song played on the caller tune. Then after few seconds someone picked up the mobile phone.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello," the answer came. Judging from his voice she deduced that the man on the other side of the line must be a young man.
"Are you a translator?"
"Yes, this is Matthew and I am a translator of Malkhan language. And who are you?"
"I am Veronica. I need your help."
"Oh, where are you?"
Veronica said, "I am staying at Hotel Grill."
"Oh, Grill Hotel, I know it very well. When do you need my service?" He sounded eager to give his service.
Well who does not want here some quick bucks?: She thought and said "Now, as soon as possible."
"Now!" the translator asked.
She asked, "Why, you are not free?"
"No, I am free. Very much free. You just wait there I am coming to you."
She was going to disconnect the call, then he said, "And I must inform you that I charge by hour."
She said irritated, "No problem. You just come."
Now she disconnected the mobile phone and was wishing to toss the mobile phone into a dustbin. Why people around here only care for money?: She thought. Why is there nothing more than money? Is not here any place for honor, self-respect? People here even sell it for mere money.
There were so many things in this part of the world she could not understand. She shirked her shoulders and waited for the translator at the hotel reception counter. After five minutes she dragged a chair and sat on it. Another five minutes later a fair tall and lean young boy with straight long hair and of her age came to the counter. He was wearing a khaki full hand sweater and a pair of blue denims. And his white canvas shoes shone brightly. Perhaps all his clothes and shoes were spanking new. Very recently bought. Looking straight at Veronica he asked, "You must be the one who called me? Veronica, I suppose?"
"Yes, you are the translator?"
"Yes, Matthew," he paused and looking at her from top to toe he said, "Jeans a good choice. But you must carry some jacket or sweater. I know, it will be midday when we reach at the top. But when we will descend down in the evening it will be very cold."
She said, "I have my jacket with me. Do not worry. Shall we move now?"
"Yes, but why don't you hire a taxi, it will be easier to go uphill."
"I want to have the fun of hiking you know," She was not in a mood to mingle with any other man right now. She thought that each driver was as nosey as the one she got rid of half an hour ago.
"Ok," said Matthew.
They started walking through the market. Then they reached at the foot of the Malkhan hill.
"Mind, the road is very long and snaky. And there might be snakes and other poisonous creatures over there. Be careful. Pay attention to every noise," Matthew said.
"You do not need to advise me on this subject. Thank you. But no thanks. I am experienced in trekking and mountaineering. We shall be quick. I have a business up there," Veronica said in order to intimidate Matthew as well as to narrow down the scope of their future interaction or conversation. She thought if she intimidated him, then he would stop babbling about. And he would focus on walking and guiding her up hill and later translating. No personal contact. No trail. No lose end. And he could not leave her in midway, neither neglect his duty for she was paying him good amount as agreed in the hotel.
But she was feeling like she was developing a wrong notion of men around here. The driver and the young translator named Matthew, they seemed like never take any offence by a girl and they go on talking. Perhaps these two were exceptional specimen who were not offended by the negative comments of any girl.
"Oh, you watch Bear Grills, I suppose," Matthew said, after a quiet walk on the hilly track for five minutes. "I see, that's why you asked me not to instruct you."
"What?" Veronica asked. It was not easy walking a long hilly and circular road uphill. Now she was regretting why she denied a taxi. And a little wind passing through the leaves making hissing sounds was scaring her every time. One car crossed them down hill. She thought if it were going uphill she would have asked for a lift. After two minutes a snake slithered away just before them. And to top all of this she was walking with a stranger. Who knew he was a good guy or a bad guy. She was thinking too much now. She was facing difficulty in focusing on her goal. And now Matthew was putting some meaningless question before her.
He smiled and said, "I said you must be watching television shows where explorers explore different hills, mountains and jungles etc."
"No," said she. And she too smiled. A forced smile. For Matthew would work for her. Then she said, "Hehe. Walking after restless journey for me is difficult. And your questions distract me."
"Haha. On the contrary, I hold a different opinion. Sorry but in my eyes a good conversation can ease your pain," Matthew said.
She did not respond, just continuing on the road. Just as she did to the taxi driver, who was babbling all the while, but when she acted as if sleeping, the driver fell to silence. But here she did not have the benefit of sleeping. She should walk half a meter before Matthew.
"Generally, who does not know the place, she walks behind who knows the path," Matthew said, teasing Veronica. She thought: This boy is poking me to see my reaction. But I am not into this childish game boy, grow up. What was more frustrating that the path seemed like never ending. And Matthew was going on talking in order to flirt with her. She focused her energy on enjoying the breathtaking beauty of the sunny day, mountain, sky and clouds of different shapes. She even sighted one or two squirrels running around the bushes; and a lone mongoose staring at them curiously.
"You walk very fast," Matthew said from her behind.
"And you walk very slow, I must admit," said Veronica, halting near a mango tree. She saw the massive tree had some flowers. But suddenly she felt sorry for the tree, because winter would soon shed all the flowers visible, fructifying almost zero mango this year, because it was very cold this year. She then associated the mango tree, symbolically, with her life. Whether her coming here would prove fruitless or she would succeed, who knew. If she failed, if she found nothing – no trail about Andrew Long, it would be ok. But the real pain was that she had to endure an annoying car driver and a brain licking guide cum translator.