It was five hours later that the land cruiser arrived. The sky was still overcast. “We can go, anyway,” I spoked to Jun to get along fine with him. And the lean man carried dozens of 1.5 liter bottles of water in his arms. It occurred to me we must be at Semera airport by 4p.m. tomorrow. I walked by instinct toward Tsubaki and said, “I do remind him to come back to Addis tomorrow.” “Yes, yes, of course,”she said.
Pride, I supposed—I was the oldest in three. Like I was going to be the dependable person. I edged gradually in the lean man. “We been waiting for you more than five hours. What’s that all about?” I asked. “I’d joined another tour,” he answered, moving along the car, and Tsubaki went to him. “I don’t know what you mean. Come back the money,” she said with the fierceness of a woman trying to control herself. “No, I was so busy earlier on, guiding a tour group,” he said, loading the various things into the land cruiser. “We must go back to the airport, Semera, tomorrow,” Tsubaki demanded. “By 4pm at least,” I added. “Can you change the flight?” he asked casually. “No, we must go back to Addis,” I said with emphasis. Jun wandered about the car. “Can we go that volcano?” I asked nervously. “Of course, of course,” he said humbly.
I sat beside the lean man, our tour driver. And the couple and the cook in the back seat. “I’m very sorry to bother you,’’said the lean man sincerely. “If there’s blame, it’s not my blame,” he went on. “I was in Semera when my boss called me.” He still did not turn on the ignition. “Perhaps he is not responsible,” Tsubaki whispered in Japanese. Turning to her, I nodded twice. “Are you okay? That’s too hard—we probably hardly sleep at the volcano,’’ my head turned to him. “No, problem,”he grinned. “You are strong,” I said. “Let’s go!” he started the engine.
“Would you like the AC? Or open the windows?”the driver asked. “AC!” I said without thinking about the couple, because the land cruiser became unbearably hot. After a few moments, I found myself in a comfortable position: cool air hit directly on my wet body.
The long concrete path across the county—completely devoid of traffic other than us—over the yellow lands and the gray lands, and across the desert into empty landscape. Sometimes a single car, sometimes many camel caravans loading up with salt to market. Very interesting. I have been taking so many photos and videos of this geological drama. But it was essential every once in a while to bring my iPhone closer to the AC(in Aqaba, Jordan it’s battery had once swelled due to high temperature).
“We just get the whole thing over,” the lean man said. “ I do hope you’re enjoying Ethiopia. Enjoy, enjoy.” “Oh, yes,” Tsubaki said with a smile. “Everything’s fine, we must enjoy.” “Welcome to Ethiopia,” he slightly bow, placing his right hand on his left chest. “Thank you, thank you,” said the couple. Tsubaki raising her camera and snapping through the window. Jun whispering into her ear. “If you know nice viewpoints, please tell us,” I added. “Yes, I’ll pull up the car at the great viewpoints, I’ll show you.”
We drove into the little town over the dusty road. From time to time the lean man slowed the car and stopped it. He sat in his seat and gave a man a fist bump out of the window. Without instruction there was a quick exchange: money and little stuff wrapped in white paper, and he pulled away down the road. I had not asked about them.
Then after a while the land cruiser crawled into a long abandoned village, and pulled up at a corrugated iron shack as if we had arrived somewhere. When we got out of the car, the sky clouded over. As I looked around the curious children crowded close, two ragged girl seemed to strike poses toward me. There were a dozen shacks made from wooden sticks, covered with black sheets that was patched. The other structures in the area were a combination of black sheets and corrugated metal, and on the wooden bed slat in no wall house lay a young man talking on his cell phone.
The reason for stopping was to acquire the stuff: fuel, tools, and spare tire. And so on and so on. The lean man asked me to switch the seats with the cook: they probably wanted to converse with each other. I sat beside Tsubaki and Jun beside her. The lean man got into the car and he started the engine.
The land cruiser moved on into the evening. And the road disappeared in the distance ahead. We started to climb up on rocks and and stones of the hill, twisting, losing the way sometimes. In the darkness we rumbled along, popping in the car. Holding the highest hand grip I was half slept on the back seat. And then gradually my brain became aware of what was slightly touching my shoulder. “No, you are in the wrong direction,”I thought to myself. Tsubaki’s head tilted toward me. I was getting something screwy. I knew that Ethiopia was the first stop on their long journey. The headlights swung around and outlined dark figures inside the car. I glanced quickly over. Tsubaki slept heavily. Jun kept his eyes straight ahead.
The land cruiser moved up the long hill, through the broken, rotten rock. It rumbled up the last rise and lumbered over the ground; we had come to a halt against a concrete tool shed. Then down from the car I climbed, weary and sleepy, and stretched stiff body. The thudding of the men’s feet on the stones sounded in the darkness.
I was getting ready to climb at my iPhone light. The lean man and the cook began to unload the truck—water, a few pots to cook and wash in, and ingredients for dinner, and sleeping mats. The couple was wearing their headlamps on their hats. I was momentarily taken back, moreover, that I had failed to notice that earlier. Then I asked the lean man, “Can I borrow a headlamp?” “No,” he said sternly. “You don’t have?” “No,” I replied, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere as though it was none his business.
The lean man in red t-shirt started to walk without saying. Tsubaki and Jun and I followed him. “Excuse me, Jun-san, I think I would follow your light,” I said. “All right,” Jun glanced back to me. At first I had walked at a steady pace, enjoying the flat gravel field as if in a cave. There was a crunch of feet that merged with silence. In my excitement, I started up the rocks, all my former weariness gone. I saw the couple climbing, stride to stride, and said, “You’re very used to climbing.” “We had often gone mountain climbing together, especially in Japan,” Jun said, looking ahead. Tsubaki, smiling at him, started to talk about memories of their climbing.
After a while, we became silent, for the path was steep and there were quite a lot of rocks. I did my best to follow close behind him. As we ascended the rocky path at our own pace, Jun increased his speed and before long I could sense I was in danger of slipping out of control. My eyes followed a blob of yellowish light on the rocks that Jun’s headlight cast. I kept up with him, following just two step or three behind. His light jiggled over the way and I stumbled in the darkness, so much so that I had hardly reduced the distance between him and me. The hot air folded over my tight face. As I could see nothing but faint light in the distance, I stumbled forward, painfully sometimes. Jun had never turned back as if there were none. The unattractive girl had mouthed the lines of the anime characters. The lean man vanished altogether. Maybe my expression asked for help, but I stepped forward like nothing had happened before they underestimate me. Nothing, nothing ever upset me—I am the type of man who can run every single morning, regardless of rain, snowfall, typhoon, and “humiliation.”
When I think I could I fall down, I stopped uneasily, took my iPhone from my pocket and used its light to watch my step. And I followed the way that Jun had climbed. The sky was a dull black, and no star visible. Gradually, however, from the distance came a crackling sound. The smell of burned dust, and of sulfur was in the air, so that I put on a mask over my nose and mouth. The more I walked, the hotter it got. The distant yelling of Tsubaki could be sounded. The lean man, seeing I was late, stood on the top of the hill against the background of a little fire.
From the summit, the flames was all the more evident. “Eruption,”the lean man said. “Eruption?” the couple looked at each other. “Hunka(噴火)”I said in Japanese. “You see that-there?”the lean man pointed out the sights. I saw the glow of a flashlight, and suddenly the hot breath came up to us, with the volcanic ash smells on it, and with the dust particles. My eyes watered and turning back against it.
With a hollow sound, a large red flame and a smoke rose up. The fire flared and dropped. I stared at them for a long, long time, into a deeply tranquil mood. Tears dripped from the corner of my red eyes. Erta Ale erupting and erupting. The lean man called out something from behind. When I thought he was appealing to us to go down as the night air contracted the flame, the fire was leaping redder and redder.
