I try to control myself and make a point of speaking more gently this time. “I’m sorry … We’re both tired. Is that the village we passed earlier this morning?”
“Yes,” he says, examining the map more carefully. “I’m sure it is.”
“It doesn’t look like there are any more villages between here and Kasare.” I trace our journey so far. “And look, the path goes through that huge forest … and Kasare and Zandapur are beyond that.”
“There will still be the odd house—families who keep goats, that sort of thing.”
I peel the sneakers off my feet and touch the mess of bloodied, raw blisters, wincing as I squeeze them back in. “You’re right.” I clamp my teeth hard to stop myself from crying. “I’m sure we’ll find shelter if the weather gets bad. Shall we get going? If I sit still for any longer my feet will give up.”
I limp along, following the path as it gets steeper and steeper. We’re so incredibly high it makes my head spin when I glance back at the villages we’ve passed, like tiny specks now. In the distance I can see a lake, so far away but still shimmering like a vast mirror, bordered by the lush green grass of the lower slopes. If I squint I can just make out a fishing boat with a tiny sail, gliding slowly across the water as if it’s being pulled by magic.
I force myself forward, feeling my muscles stretched taut with each new step. I round a corner in the path and my eyes light up.
“Look! Jeevan.” A string of prayer flags flutters in the cold breeze, like red flames sent to keep us warm. “Come on … That means we’re going in the right direction.”
Jeevan is looking really pale. “I’m so tired,” he says, leaning against a wild fig tree.
I grab his arm and pull him along. “We can play our favorite game.” Perhaps this will take our minds off the walking. “What would you most like to eat?”
“A big plate of chicken cooked in the tandoor,” he says breathlessly. “With a squeeze of fresh lime juice all over it.”
“Do you remember when we helped Papa dig a fire pit on the grazing grounds and we cooked a chicken together and then camped out?”
“Yeah … It was … great … W–what about you?” wheezes Jeevan, slowing down again.
“Three of Ma’s soft potato parathay, washed down with a big glass of mango lassi, then maybe one or two sweet jelaybia.” My stomach gives a hollow growl.
“I thought you wanted to get to Zandapur as soon as you could,” says Jeevan out of the blue. “Maybe we should have gone straight there, on the road.” He stops walking and sits on a log to rest. “We could have been there by now.”
“What is wrong with you? You know exactly why. The police are hunting for us … all over the roads!” I kick loose rocks down the path. “You’re being so difficult!” I swivel around and walk ahead, leaving him behind. When I turn to look for him he’s hardly moved at all. “Why don’t you just go back to the last village?” I shout. “I can go on by myself.”
“Maybe I will.” His words catch hold of the breeze and follow me up the path.
Guilt winds itself around me and I wait while he catches up. He doesn’t look well at all. “My legs are aching,” he says, and my temper flares again.
“So are mine. It’s just the walking—you saw my feet! We’ve got to keep going, Jeevan!” Why does he keep arguing? I’ve had enough now. “I’m tired as well but I’m not complaining.” I fling this last sentence at him. “Walk as slowly as you want. I’m going.” I can see the forest ahead and hobble on without looking back.
When I get there I still don’t wait but limp down a path that leads into a gloomy thicket of tall pines and find myself engulfed in darkness. Silent shadows and a resinous scent hang heavy in the air, but I go farther into the trees, still not stopping or looking back for Jeevan.
A twig cracks beneath my foot, the sound sending strange-sounding birds squawking through the forest.
And that’s when I come to my senses; what am I thinking? I turn and look back along the path toward the entrance to the forest, but can’t see Jeevan anywhere.
Without the sun to warm me, the cold is seeping into my bones, and even though my feet are smarting, I run toward the light, back the way I’ve come, to find him.
I stand at the tree line and see him walking slowly, almost shuffling along. I cup my hands to my mouth. “Jee-van.”
He waves to me from a distance but as he gets closer, I notice how bright his cheeks are.
“Let’s not fight,” I say when he finally reaches me. “We have to stick together … Let’s look at the map again. We don’t want to get lost.” I shove my hand into his bag and try to grasp it but my fingers come out empty. “Jeevan, are you sure you put it back last time you looked?”
“Yes, Asha, I’m sure I did … What about you? You lost yours in a puddle even before we started the journey!”
I empty the whole bag onto the ground, then rummage through my own. “I can’t find it anywhere. One of us has left it somewhere and it’s probably blown away. Now we’ll have no way of knowing where we’re going.”
My stomach stabs with panic. How are we going to get to Papa on time now?
Jeevan looks at the sky. “Well, we know we’re heading north … and the sun is over there …” He lowers his head. “We have to go through the forest, that’s for sure. I remember it from the map. We’ll carry on and then when it gets dark I’ll use the stars to make sure we’re still going north.”
I tell myself to stop panicking—Jeevan can
