Towards Tea Mountain

Firstly my apologies for the lateness of this story. The telephone line to my kampung (village) was cut and the copper stolen. I have only just got telephone and internet access again.



The morning light beheld not only Chinese vampires turning to dust but revealed the rural splendour of bomoh Clark’s house and surrounds.

The attap roofed house was partially surrounded by fruiting trees. At the rear grew a towering breadfruit tree spreading its huge green leaves wavering in the morning sunlight, and beneath it, to one side, grew a rambutan tree shot through with bright, red, hairy, fruit, coconut trees loomed over them both threatening to drop their hard headed fruits like ballistas at a siege, while large leaved banana plants proffered their fruit - in hands.

Clark had taken both time and trouble to develop his compound, to plant and care for the trees over many years, nurturing lemon grass, pandan, some small chilli bushes, curry leaf plants and kafir lime trees, the last being only three feet high but producing enough leaves to be used, even though there was no fruit as yet. To all intent and purposes Clark was self sufficient. He had chickens running freely across the compound, a few white ducks to waddle idly by and a shed full of quail, which he reared for both the eggs and the birds themselves. A small local Sikh dairy supplied Clark with fresh cow’s milk every other day, and sometimes left a plastic bag or two of the Indian sweet lassi drink which Clark had developed a particular taste for.

Clark was in his bedroom. The Geek and Just-Abangah just happened to be loitering outside, and overheard Clark talking. It was a strange one-sided conversation, and, if they didn’t know that Clark would be talking with his spirit guide Narayan, they may have thought his suffering from the delusions of schizophrenia, or some other psychological misfortune. “Yes, yes, I know, really, where, are you sure. Well if you say so, up there, they got there quickly, ah yes of course I should have known, yes I’ll tell him, no it’s ok it’s no problem.” And so the conversation went on. The Geek and Just-Abangah looked at each other, shrugged and wandered off as one-sided conversations were quite boring, and even less informative.

Clark took the mug of Boh tea Melvyn had brewed for him and started to relay the gist of the talk he had with Narayan. Clark said that the djinn and hantu had taken Aisah to the old dredge, and there met up with a dark figure Narayan hadn’t recognised. After spending one night there, they had rushed on to the foothills of Tea Mountain, and were, at this very moment breaching the top of the Mountain and heading down into the forests below. Narayan could only guess at their destination, but it seemed that they might be travelling deep into the equatorial rain forests towards the lost lands of Lenyap, where the wizard council met. “You mean they are taking her to Djinba, is that what you’re saying Clark, to Djinba.” “Look, I don’t know, Narayan could only see so much, it was like he was being blocked, but what he saw I have told you, Melvyn I simply don’t know any more to help you.”

Melvyn the bomoh sat nursing his own mug of muddy tea, the wisps of steam curling from the surface reminded him of Ali the djinn who he had once called friend, but now has taken Melvyn’s wife and seemed to be heading towards a snakes nest. There was a sharp crack and Melvyn’s mug of tea parted company from the mug’s handle and landed on the kitchen floor tiles, shattered and spilt tea over Melvyn’s slippers and across the kitchen floor. Melvyn stood with the handle in his hand apologising to Clark. Together they cleaned the spillage then Clark put his arm around Melvyn and let him sob just a few tears, enough to be manly but not too many to be thought a girlie.
A very determined Melvyn gathered his small crew together and they all piled into the Rocsta jeep. Clark handed them a bundle of food stuffs and a drink or two, and, as he wished them well, wrote something in the dirt on the side of the jeep’s bonnet. “What’s that he’s written” asks Just-Abangah “Don’t really know” says the Geek half leaning out of the side window to get a good look “it reads like ‘Odd A.C.’ what on earth is that ” says the Geek. Melvyn smiles to himself and mutters “Oh it’s something from a cartoon on television, but spelling is not Clark’s forte ””But Melvyn, why’s he written about the air conditioning” Melvyn just let that pass and thought deep thoughts as they drove off leaving bomoh Clark waving at his door.

They followed the small roads through Kampung Kecil and out into another palm oil estate. There the roads weaved in and out and up and down following the undulations of the terrain through the ranks of regimented oil palm trees. Even in the morning light the deep recesses of the palm oil forest plantation looked eerie and somewhat desolate. As the crew looked each imagined being lost inside there, lonely and confused, not knowing one row of palm trees from another, and, perhaps, dying a very lonely death trying to find an exit. As they passed there was herd of domesticated cows wandering close to the road, the normality of the herd only sought to give an extra eeriness to the plantation. The plantations seemed to go on for miles and miles, each mile very much like the last with only the appearance of large monitor lizards to break the monotony.

The Rocsta was making good time and the crew were a little more light-hearted armed, as they were, with Narayan’s guidance. Melvyn had a good idea where to go and how to get there and so didn’t notice the small figure half hidden behind one of the oil palms. The figure had been waiting for Melvyn’s appearance ever since it was known that the Chinese vampires had failed in their mission.

The figure, one wizard Waadbi, was one of the less adept wizards, but he had his uses. For a long time the wizard Waadbi had been leader of the wizard council, but over the years, due to age and neglect of his craft, his powers had sorely diminished, so his position in the council diminished too. Waadbi was left with few working spells, unfortunately for him he never remembered just which were the working spells, and those he half remembered, or remembered wrongly – this normally caused chaos for those around him. If the truth be told he had been sent on this mission to stop Melvyn, more to get him out of the way than any harm he could actually impose upon Melvyn or anyone who was with him.

Wizard Waadbi chuckled an almost insane chuckle as he waved his short black ebony wand and cast a spell towards Melvyn and the Rocsta, he rubbed his hands together in a very theatrical style and felt well pleased with himself, until, that is, a large pink rose appeared in the air over the Rocsta and exploded into little pink love shaped hearts, which fell cascading down over the jeep. “What the heck” shouted the Geek “Wah pretty” cooed Just-Abangah as he stared wide-eyed at the show, next appeared a large menacing eagle which swooped towards the jeep, and, just as it was about to collide with the vehicle, turned into a flock of cartoon bluebirds and flowers. “What is going on” cried the Geek, ”Oh we’re under attack from a very inept wizard, and I know just who, silly bloody old fool” said Melvyn “Who” cried the Geek and Just-Abangah together “It’s that old fool Waadbi, trying to stop us - idiot” the last Melvyn said under his breath.

Wizard Waadbi tried again, he wiped the magic wand on his wizard gown then waved it vigorously in the air – multi-coloured little ponies filled the air above the jeep for a second or two then disappeared. “Damn” the wizard said to himself “Oh Nana darling I always tell you not to change the settings on granddad’s wand” as he realised that his granddaughter had once again being playing with his magical instrument. “Ok, one last try” and with that he waved the wand, muttered something in Arabic, and immediately the jeep stopped going forward and began to go backwards, “Aha” he said “Well at least that’s something” and the jeep sped backwards down the road and round a bend.

“Stupid old idiot” Melvyn cursed. “Can’t you do something Melvyn” called Just-Abangah, “Well I can” replied Melvyn “but none of us are going to like it.” The Geek and Melvyn looked at each other puzzled. “I can do this” Melvyn said, and swung the jeep around quickly but now instead of going backwards they were going forwards, but in the same direction. “Mmm this is serious” said Melvyn and serious situations call for serious measures.

Melvyn jammed on the brakes, took the gearstick quickly out of gear and stopped the jeep. He got out and wandered around the oil palms picking a flower here, a flower there and the occasional fungi which he plucked from one of the trees. With almost an armful of flowers, herbs and fungi Melvyn began grinding some with stones and breaking the others until there was a little heap in front of him. Melvyn put his hands into the heap and said some words half in Arabic and half in Sanskrit. The heap trembled, the earth trembled, the air wavered and a scantily glad woman appeared from out of nowhere. “Hello big boy” the apparition said “Yeah, hi yourself” replied a less than happy Melvyn “Why Melvy delvy you’re not glad to see your little shaky waky. “No I’m bloody well not” said Melvyn to himself.