prt 4
At first I didn’t know what to do with the money, first I contemplated going on a shopping spree but I knew that was a bad idea, I didn’t have to be sane to work that out. Then it hit me, I was watching a documentary about war lords while I was in a community shelter and one of the names seemed familiar, Patrick Mannjit, I’d known that idiot in high school and had always hated him, he was the most raciest arrogant self-centred person I had met. He was currently based in Nepal. I hopped on the first flight out for $800 and landed not long after. I went to a bar, Kālā sinha palṭa (The Black Lion Bar), and started asking questions at first everybody was reluctant to talk to me but then one man spoke up “I know a bit about Patrick.” He muttered, “Where does he live?” I demanded“Nobody knows, I let a group of protesters into his house so we could get rid of him for sure, he killed them all but I got away, and all that’s known is that he has a secret base up in the mountains.”
“Can you help me find him?”
“Yes, but I don’t know that I should.”
“Trust me, helping me is the right decision” I smirked and held out my hand, he took my hand and shook it “Aahlad Sabal at your service.” “John Lace, at your service too.” And you know the best thing about Aahlad? His radio picked up the rock station.
Aahlad had a nice place, it was small and he said that during bad storms rain could get in but I didn’t care. We had Pulao (it’s a bit like fried rice) with pappadums. It was filling but Aahlad insisted we had dessert, kheer (practically rice pudding), I forced it down, I usually would not have eaten it but it was too good! He only had a small mattress (I think it was actually a dog bed) for me to sleep on but it was good enough for me, hell a hole in the ground would be enough I was that tired!
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