Sunrise in Bali - Across the Pond Trilogy (Book 1) Page 5

  “OK, we have kissed, yeah....on the volcano a few days ago.”

  “Really! You mean...wait....ON the volcano? That was, like, stupid-o-clock in the morning? How'd that happen?” Sarah seemed keen to get a few details before she could offer any sort of advice on the matter.

  “Well....” Jenny started telling Sarah about the sunrise, how Henry whispered in her ear, how he gave her the most amazing kiss of her young life, how they smiled and looked at each, how they bonded on the way down the mountain, how they played in the pool and she fell asleep on his shoulder. They all seemed like little things, but added up they meant a lot. “Am I being stupid here? I guess he can do what he wants, right?”

  “Yeah, sure, he can do what he wants, everyone can do what they want. And what he wants is apparently to be a complete dick! Of course you're not being stupid here, not at all. If I was in your position, I'd be feeling the exact same way. He knows you like him, that much is obvious, so to lead you on and do those things....and then kiss that stuck up little Aussie chick in your face like that....that's bullshit. I'm sorry Jen, but it is...it's bullshit.”

  “Well, to be fair he didn't do it in my face. I only stumbled upon them...it wasn't like he was, 'hey, Jenny, look at me', you know.”

  “No, no Jen, don't do that. You always go do that....start making excuses for the other person. Look, no matter what way you swing it, it's not on. I don't know Jen, you're too nice I guess, you let people get away with things...you gotta, you know, stand up for yourself a bit more.”

  Jenny looked at Sarah. She knew she was right, but the way it was coming out was upsetting her a little bit. “So you're saying I'm a pushover....like I let Trent get away with cheating on me all those times and that's why he did it. Like, if I was stronger my boyfriends wouldn't be such dicks to me all the time?”

  Sarah had a hard time denying that, but she chose her words carefully. “No babe, that's not what I'm saying. You've just met some real shits so far, that's all. All boys are like this when they're young, they just don't give a shit. Look, you've only known Henry for about a week....he's probably just like all the rest of them, why would he be any different. Think about it, he's on a gap year, traveling around the world, single...or maybe not, we don't know....what do you think he's going to be getting up to?”

  Jenny fell silent. She hadn't really thought about it like that. “I dunno, obviously I never thought anything serious would happen, how could it. I just thought maybe...maybe he'd like me more....maybe he'd wanna....”

  She trailed off and sat down on the bed, a few light tears gliding down her cheeks. “Aw honey,” Sarah was next to her in a shot, giving her a hug. “Look, forget about all of this....forget about those stupid boys. Let's just enjoy the trip, shall we? That's what we're here for right....to get AWAY from those boys....not to find another dickhead. Sure, he's English and everything, but I'm sure they're dickheads too...”

  With that Jenny gave out a muffled chuckle from Sarah's shoulder. “You always know how to make me laugh,” she said, pulling pack and wiping away her tears. “You're right....you're always right.”

  Chapter 7

  In the morning of the next day the group made their way inland towards Mt Rinjani, the highest peak on the island. If Jenny thought that Bali was a far cry from her life in New York, she was about to see what the next level looked like. It became immediately apparent to the group that Lombok was the lesser traveled of the two islands and, although it offered just as much of interest, the drinking culture that attracted so many young travelers to Bali simply didn't exist here. For Jenny, that was perfect. She did enough of that at college, and was sure she could enjoy a few nights out when the tour ended back in Bali if she wanted. For now, she wanted a cultural experience.

  After a couple of hours drive inland, they arrived at Mt Rinjani, a spectacular volcano that, unfortunately, they were only scheduled to see from the valley below. According to Andy, the mountain was, like Batur, actually a dormant volcano, but a far more visually arresting one from the top. Within the massive crater is an expansive lake, he explained, thousands of feet up in the air, that looks stunning against the backdrop of the sheer rock faces. Having climbed to the peak several times before, Andy was happy to gush about the experience to anyone who'd listen, although it seemed as though Mark and Henry, in particular, were feeling the sting of envy with every word he spoke. Andrew, meanwhile, was delighted, having booked in a separate tour to the summit of the volcano when their current adventure ended. By this point, both Mark and Henry had had to walk away from the conversation, which brought a smirk to Jenny's face.

  On arrival, the group checked into their hotel. Although, this time, it wasn't a hotel, but a guesthouse. On the hillside were a series of huts and basic shelters, made purely from local wood sources, and lacking any sort of luxury amenities. Each was nestled in between beautiful trees and plants, with chickens and other small farmyard animals sharing the space with them. At dinner, they'd sit round a large rectangular wood table, rustic and strong, that looked as through it had been handcarved from a single piece of wood. It was silent, too, Jenny noted, a village atmosphere that lacked any form of outside interference save the odd travel group passing by. There was no a-la-carte menu, no team of waiters, no long list of beverages to choose from. You'd get what you were given here, and Jenny was all the happier for it.

  Through the afternoon they trekked the paths around the foothills at the base of the mountain, passing by small villages as they went. The locals would flock to them as they passed, intrigued by their funny shoes and flashing cameras. At one village, they passed by a school where dozens of young children were at play in a dusty courtyard. Andrew was a particular hit here, taking pictures of the kids and letting them play with his phone. “Crikey,” Sarah whispered to Jenny, “I'm not sure I'd let them get their hands on my iPhone!”

  The day continued to go by lazily, the group exploring for miles around their guesthouses, passing not only villages, but tranquil rice paddies, rushing waterfalls, and sky blue lakes bordered by deep green vegetation. There wasn't much laughter, not much joking and talking: it didn't seem in keeping with the place. It was the sort of experience that Jenny would cling to for the rest of her life, one full of peace and tranquility, one that harkened back to the days before mobile phones, 3D televisions, and total convenience everywhere you looked.

  When the group returned to their guesthouses they took some time out to freshen up using the rudimentary showering facilities on offer. Soon enough though, they all began to gather at the large rectangular table by the kitchen area: the mood was quiet and pensive, everyone seemingly lost in their own little worlds. Within a few minutes everyone was gathered, save Henry. According to Mark, he wasn't feeling up to it that night and didn't want any food.

  Jenny felt an immediate wrench in her gut when Mark spoke, as if she was responsible. “It could quite easily be that he's just not hungry,” her logical mind suggested, but she was having none of it. For the rest of the evening she was distracted, her thoughts back on Henry. Whatever she wanted to think, during the quieter times of the day her mind would continually wander to him. She still wanted to talk to him, to laugh and giggle with him, get to know him better....to kiss him. She felt herself inexorably drawn to him, like a fly to a glowing flame, and had feelings for him that she couldn't possibly have predicted after so short a time together.

  Her thoughts continued to drift and she played little part in the group conversation about modern film that was now perking everyone up. At its core, Mark and Todd seemed to be singing the praises of the slew of superhero films that were now dominating the summer blockbuster landscape, Emily natted on about rom-coms, and Eno and Andy harkened back to a much brighter time in film, where not every leading man had to have a bulging body and chiseled torso. To Jenny, this seemed somewhat contradictory coming from Andy, who himself had a fairly aesthetically pleasing shape despite his 40 odd years.

  The conversation continued to
morph into other hot topics until, one by one, the group left for bed. Soon, once Sarah and Mark had decided to go off on another one of their little walks, Jenny was left alone, gazing up at the night sky. She sat there for a time, trying to count the stars or spot any constellations she once knew as a child, until the cool air forced her hand and she decided to retire to her bed.

  As she wandered off past the little huts and sleeping chickens, she looked over to where she knew Henry and Marks guesthouse to be. Inside she could see that the lights were on, but no-one was inside. She knew Mark was off with Sarah, but where was Henry? Her mind began to race with jealous thoughts, her heart pounding to keep up. Was he with Emily? Had to gone over to her guesthouse?

  She started to creep in closer to get a better look and confirm her fears. As she approached, she peered in through the open doorway. “Henry?” she asked, “are you in there?” She didn't expect an answer, and she didn't get one. He was gone.

  As she turned away she noticed a chair just to the other side of the doorway, pointing outwards towards the hills below. There was no-one on it, but something did catch her eye. It was Henry's book, the one she'd seen him writing in so often during the tour.

  Driven by jealously, she gently picked up the book, noting its exact position so that she could replace it unknown. She opened the first page to see a simple sketched drawing of a map. It was lightly filled in, and missing great details for many of the worlds continents, but there was a clearly marked path heading from London and across Europe, Asia, and towards Indonesia. It was a map of his trip, filled in as he went.

  She flicked to the next page to see some more notes and basic sketches. Details about India, Thailand, Indonesia, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, and the United States littered the next few pages, periodically broken by drawings of famous landmarks. Jenny noticed the Taj Mahal, a Whale Shark - she guessed from Thailand - Ayers Rock, the Sydney Opera House, and the Hollywood Sign to name a few. If nothing else, Henry appeared to have a very artistic hand.

  She had a quick look around to see if anyone could see her. It took her eyes a couple of moments to adjust to the darkness between the huts, but she couldn't see anyone. She returned to the book, flicking through some more pages, with additional details listed about tour times, flights, airports, local currency and customs, visa requirements, and so on.

  About to give up, she found a page that said:

  “Day 1 – London Heathrow to Mumbai”

  Her heart jumped. It WAS a journal.

  She wrestled with herself for a moment. “Should I read it?” she thought, “I'd hate for anyone to read my inner thoughts.” However, her jealousy and curiosity outweighed her logic, and she plowed on through the next pages, bypassing his thoughts about India, the Maldives, and Thailand, before finally reaching Bali.

  “Stage 4 – Bali”

  “Day 62 – Arrive in Denpasar”

  She flicked on, passing by his days spend surfing and relaxing on the beach in Kuta before finally reaching day 68:

  “Day 68 – Kuta to Ubud”

  She tentatively skimmed over his words. He spoke eloquently, poetically. Was there going to be anything in there about meeting her? There was...

  “Mark and I met our tour group today, albeit a little late. I had seen one of them, Jenny, I think, relaxing by the pool before. She was nice, they all were. Some amusing life anecdotes from some of them as well over drinks, particularly our leader, Andy. I can tell Mark and I are going to have fun with him!”

  She continued to skim for her name, hoping to find out how he felt:

  “Day 71 – Batur”

  “As I write this I must say I am exhausted. My habit of staying up until at least midnight is not serving me well out here. It is currently nearing 4.30 in the am and the group is preparing for an ascent up Mt Batur for sunrise. On this occasion though, I'm not going to complain about my lack of sleep, because it was well worth it. Jenny and I talked properly for the first time last night. She's lovely, and beautiful too. I must say I didn't expect to find someone I'd like on a cultural tour of Bali and Lombok, but I guess she's here. Here's hoping she feels the same....”

  Jenny couldn't help but smile, but it shouldn't have been anything she didn't already know. Reading him say it in his own words, however, made all the difference to her, distrustful as she was. “Perhaps that kiss did mean something after all,” she pondered. She carried on:

  “Ascent complete, and what a morning. It's gotta be the best day of the entire gap year so far. Trek was exhilarating, and the sunrise; words can hardly do it justice. Something came over me when I saw it and I kissed Jenny. I don't know why I did that, it's not really me. However, I'm glad I did, I think she enjoyed it. I just find her so intoxicating...”

  Jenny continued to smile as she read, but suddenly became very aware of what she was doing. She was just so engrossed in Henry's journal, and wanted to keep reading it forever for hope of seeing her name. Before replacing it, however, she wanted to know one more thing....did he mention Emily in the same way, was he just playing both of them? She skipped on a few pages until she found it:

  “Day 74 – Ubud to Mataram, Lombok”

  “Feeling pretty rough today, although have tried to get up to enjoy the last of Ubud before crossing the water to Lombok. Just had a swim in the pool and saw Jenny. She seemed really off with me and I don't know why. I thought we were getting along great. I guess she was feeling ill last night... maybe it's not about me....I hope so anyway. I'd like to continue enjoying her company. In fact, it'll be a shame to say goodbye to her in a week or so, I think I'm starting to really like her....”

  Jenny skimmed further down through the following pages until she saw white paper. “Nothing of Emily,” she thought, brows furrowed. “OK, that'll do, “ she whispered to herself, before quickly replacing the book to where she found it. Hustling off into the darkness, she pondered what she'd read.

  No Emily, nothing except a moment describing her when they met. He did say she was pretty...maybe he wouldn't write it in there that he'd kissed her in a club. Maybe he was drunk and doesn't remember? Her mind continued to run with as many potential scenarios as it could muster as she entered her hut and slid into bed. And where was Henry tonight?

  With these questions swimming through her mind, Jenny drifted off into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning Jenny was awoken by the sound of prayer. A distant chanting could be heard down at the bottom of the hill below, filling the room and causing Sarah to wake abruptly from her slumber.

  “What IS that!”, she exclaimed grumpily. Sarah wasn't great when she was sleep deprived.

  “It's the morning Muslim prayer,” replied Jenny, smiling for the cultural shift from Bali. “Not your usual wake up call is it...?!”

  “God no...but it's still dark out, don't these people like sleep?” She sounded ignorant, but Jenny knew she wasn't like that.

  “I guess they probably got to bed a little earlier than you Sarah,” Jenny laughed. “What time did you get in...you weren't here when I got back after dinner?” Jenny refrained from informing her of her little pre-bed jaunt into Henry's thoughts.

  “Oh, yeah,” Sarah croaked, “I hung out with Mark for a while,” she sounded sheepish, which was unlike her.

  “And....??” Jenny was looking for details.

  “Ahhh, it's too early in the morning Jen. We made out, that's all I'm giving you.”

  Jenny didn't push it. Sarah wasn't one to be coy about what she got up to with guys, so it probably just was the pre-dawn hour that was tightening her tongue. “Alright, let's talk about it later. Here, use these.” She handed Sarah a little box of foam earplugs, “I've got plenty to spare.”

  “Thanks babe, you're a star,” and with that, she turned away and dragged her blanket back over her head.

  Jenny sat for a moment on the bed. She felt wide awake, despite a fair deficit of sleep, Henry's words still harassing her mind. She stood up and g
ently walked outside. It was brisk in the cool morning air, a slight fog hanging over the hills like a light blanket. She peered down towards the valley in front of the hut: there were small lights dotted around in the weakening darkness, highlighting the source of the prayers that rung through the hills. She stood there for a while, just listening and shivering slightly in the breeze, until something caught her eye to the right.