Chapter 2: February 2018

The whole first day of February was all about Esther’s terrific birth, how strong she was again the day after, how skilful she was with her son. What a burden had fallen from me, I had been so worried, even scared, but everything had gone well.

I was a little more relaxed about the next births. In two to three weeks, it was Zarina’s turn. The heavily pregnant Chinese woman was the first to visit Esther in person at her request and to congratulate her. Esther had only one goal, to give her friend strength and confidence. Zarina had told me how wonderful it was for her that a young woman of her own age had managed the efforts of childbirth almost without any problems. Mayari and Priya were able to visit Esther on the third day after the birth but were more interested in the ‘miracle’ of Attila than in Esther’s recommendations. You could literally feel the two girls tingling with excitement. They were infinitely looking forward to having their own child.

I just want to tell you about my sex life, it was more than fulfilled. Ramona, Luisa, and Olivia hardly missed an opportunity to ask me for cuddles and love. We had to pay strict attention to contraception, but we had very nice hours together. I often met Kira, Sula, and Fahsai together in the late afternoon in my bathroom or bedroom. Sometimes one, sometimes two stayed overnight. These were very nice, also very loving hours. It was a great benefit for me to experience how the girls matured more and more with their pregnancy and their responsibility for the developing new life, becoming increasingly adult in thinking and acting.

Since December, Ramona had been casually inviting all pregnant women to her living room and bedroom every Friday. They chatted, listened to music, and exchanged hints for body care. Every week our doctor, like an older friend of the pregnant women, presented a yoga exercise for pregnant women. Once a month, all twelve suitable exercises were done together, as far as it was still individually possible. There was no predicate to appreciate this team; it touched my heart and mind to the very depths.

The weather was still uncharacteristically beautiful. In recent years, there were less than fifty hours of sunshine in January; it was mostly cool and very humid. But this year, January had already been completely different, and February started with the best weather. It was summer, real summer here in the Andes. The sun had incredible power and kissed nature into wonderful growth. The light showers deep in the night helped it, which intensified the summer greenhouse climate in our valley. Leonie showed me the coca trees, their branches bending from the number of leaves and their weight this year. The planted seedlings of different tree species, with which we wanted to further green our valley, had grown more than ten centimetres in a few weeks. The fields and beds were in a dreamlike condition. An enormous harvest was in store for us.

Olivia translated Leonie’s explanations of particularly lush fruit trees, all old Inca cultivars. Unfortunately, they only knew the local names, but they sounded interesting. In two to three months, we could taste extraordinary fruits. It sounded exotic: cherimoya, lucuma, guayaba, marmonya, and chupa, but also bushes like the baya andina or acerola. I was looking forward to tasting the fruits cultivated hundreds of years ago.

In our palazzo garden, Zarina and Fahsai had laid potatoes that ripened particularly early. Most varieties were harvested in northern South America in May and June, but this potato variety was available two months earlier, had a reddish tinge to the skin and tasted particularly delicious. The stems of the potato plants was proliferating like never before, it was almost as tall as a man. Unfortunately, the cabbage could not be used. It was customary among the mountain dwellers to cut off the withered plants shortly before harvesting and burn them.

Too bad, we would never be able to eat the quantities of fruit and vegetables. It was customary among the Indios to feed most of it to the animals, especially to the chickens, geese, and to some extent the cows. The alpacas preferred grass and hay; the goats, fortunately, ate almost everything. Often, they were put on only partially harvested beds. With the farmers in the high valleys, potatoes and some vegetables were often buried in the ground, where they remained frozen for starving months, but that was not an option with us. We were glad how rarely there was frost in our valley.

I was quite busy with my daily work. However, I did not have enough time for two things, for clearing the mountain road and for sifting through the files and documents of the Rus. On the other hand, on my desk were the latest maps of the gallery routes in the mine and other found documents from the mining company. There was a yield forecast from 2007, long before the accident, according to which at least eight hundred to more than one thousand tonnes of silver could still be extracted. The mining company calculated that with a raw silver price per kilo of 500 US dollars, a possible gross profit of 500 million dollars could be achieved at a cost of at least three hundred million dollars. Thus, under the calculated circumstances, the mine could still yield more than two hundred million dollars in profit. Logically, the fact that a new bridge would have to be built was not taken into account.

For me, one fact was particularly interesting. The main tunnel led directly through the mountain. If you could extend it by eight to nine hundred metres, the rock would be pierced. The valley behind it was elongated, had almost the narrowest point at the imaginary breakthrough. I daydreamed about how we could build a dam or bridge across the valley to the road from San Huano to the N3 road and be in the nearby big city of Trujillo or right on the Pacific Ocean pretty quickly. Oh, that was tempting, but unfortunately a totally unrealisable dream at the moment.

At the time, I also had no idea how high the costs for such a project would be. The tunnel through a collapsed mine alone would be a mammoth task, a dam across the valley would certainly not be quite as costly, especially since the rock loosened during tunnel construction could be used to fill the dam, but a few millions would be necessary.

In the middle of my dreams and fantasies there was a knock. The four young ladies came back from their shift in the village, scolding me because there were no more matching knickers for the girls and demanding at least new pants, and if possible bras for their growing breasts. I watched their performance somewhat helplessly, not realising that it was theatre with a happy ending.

Mayari stepped out in her barely worn maternity dress. “Michael, what do you say to our invention?” She lifted up her dress. A pair of self-tailored pants with legs adorned her abdomen. The women gurgled with laughter when they saw my astonished look. They had propagated wild flax, literally cared for each seed, spun threads from the fibres and woven the dyed threads with the peasant women’s handloom frames. Daja had already shown skill in using the sewing machine last year and had cut pieces from the woven fabric, two large rectangles, two squares and an elliptical cut piece, and sewn them together. The trousers held a homemade cord made of sheep’s wool. The trousers didn’t look fancy, but they clearly served their purpose. The best part was that they were also suitable for pregnant women. Mayari proudly announced that six of them were ready. But her group’s goal was to make at least thirty so that everyone would have a change of trousers. At the moment, they had dyed all the thread yellow, but red and blue were also possible.

My girls just made me happy again and again. I took each of the four in my arms, kissed their foreheads and was not stingy with praise and appreciation. Now Isabella showed me her self-made brassiere. She had sewn old fabric into one of the tens of lingerie tops available. At first, I had to smile, because the structure had no erotic appeal whatsoever, but Isa emphasised how skin-friendly the pieces would now be. Her breasts, which had grown due to her pregnancy, would be comfortable and would not sway with every step. She demonstrated it to me straight away, ran briskly to the door and came beaming back towards me, eliciting another smile from me with her triumphant look.

In the evening there was a similar show, this time for everyone, immediately after dinner. All the girls were thrilled. Luisa also ordered two pairs of pants for herself, only her breasts didn’t fit into any bra part, but she accepted that unconcernedly. Ramona praised the four inventors and makers very much. From her point of view, this solved one of the biggest hygiene problems. She also distributed kisses of appreciation and caresses. Some young women were still a little reserved. The fabric was not as soft as the cotton they were used to, but they all knew very well that they couldn’t do without knickers. We agreed that each of us would receive a pair of ‘made in Paradise’ pants by the weekend. Many readers may ask what the point of all this was. All I can say is live without underwear for a week and you will know how happy our ladies were in the end.

The very next day, I set off with Daja and a chainsaw, but with the four batteries charged, to the road to be cleared. We had a tent with us again and the ISO mats. Fortunately, the last nights had been much warmer in the valley, so presumably also here at an altitude of more than two thousand metres. Our goal was to clear, if possible, the still overgrown piece between the road that had been cleared so far and the piece that had been cleared of the cacti. Daja counted the trees still to be felled, all between eight and ten centimetres in trunk diameter. There were still 112 trees, so again they couldn’t be done. During Daja’s excursion I had let the first two trees fall down the embankment. After only ten trees, every part of my body hurt. Daja also tried to saw once, but she didn’t manage to make the felling notch as deep as possible. Besides, I was afraid for her health, because she snapped off the saw already the second time it was applied, fortunately not in her foot.

While my companion explored the further path and tried to make a passage through the thicket with a machete, I soon despaired of cutting down trees. How had only Babette managed to work so effectively? After only nine trees, the first battery was empty and I took a cigarette break. Daja came running because she hadn’t heard any sawing sounds for a while, laughed at me, and sat down on my lap as a matter of course. She took the cigarette from my hand, inhaled the first puff, as she had seen me do, then a second. She didn’t cough; she just rolled her eyes a little. I tried to stop her, but she insisted on another puff, turned white as a sheet and vomited some gastric juice. She got up, staggered a bit and walked uncoordinated to the slope where she had to lean on both arms. My initial laughter was gone. Daja was visibly unwell. I sat her down on the ground and hurried to my bike to get her something to drink.

After a few small sips of soda, my helper smiled coyly at me. “I’m sorry, Michael. When I saw you smoking, I thought I could do that too, even though you warned me. I’m just a silly little girl, sorry about that.”

“It’s all right, my dear. Where would you get the experience? My little one, you have no idea how sweet you look right now.” I breathed a little kiss on her lips, which were shiny from the water.

Astonished, Daja looked at me. “You’re not angry with me, Michael?”

“No, on the contrary, I’m happy for you. It will be a lesson to you, perhaps never to smoke again. I would be happy if I could finally give it up.”

We went back to work. Soon we had gained a few metres; five trees were felled in a short time. When I put the saw down for a moment to rest, it jumped at me impetuously. “Michael, you are so sweet to me. I like you more and more.”

“But you know, I’m an old man, older than your father,” I reminded her of her earlier words as she tried to kiss me again.

“Yes, I know I had said that to you, but I have a wish, I want to learn to kiss properly.” She pressed her lips to mine.

“Please, not now. You know how to kiss, you must have practised with your girlfriends.”

“Yes, actually, but I was disgusted when I saw Mayari and Isabella licking each other. I didn’t want that, especially not with a woman. When Kira wet my lips with her tongue, I ran away.”

“Daja, we’ll talk about it tonight. Come on, show me what you’ve done today.” Hand in hand, I walked with her along the cactus-free track. The walkway my partner had created was too narrow. It would not be passable with a bicycle. So I sent her ahead to lengthen her narrow walk while I widened it.

Very swiftly I advanced, watching her elegant movements from behind, seeing her bottom bouncing as she did so. She drew me hypnotically. What kind of person was I? “You’re a stupid horny goat. Leave the girl alone,” I berated myself half aloud.

Daja called me. She was at a spot where the sun could shine well on the former roadway. Cacti grew again between the trees here, holding the trees in their embrace. The trees were smaller and thinner, surely because the thorny plants took food from them or even sucked tree sap. Now I walked ahead, but soon the cacti were bigger than me, the path impassable.

We went back to eat our packed lunch. Daja carefully pulled spikes out of my right forearm and sucked the little drops of blood away with her mouth. She was so completely different to me this day, wanted to show me her best side. Suddenly she stood in front of me in all her beauty. “Michael, do you like me? Do you think I’m becoming a woman?”

I put my hands on her waist. “You are so sweet, so well advanced on the road to womanhood. I like girls who blossom like you, who are on the verge of being women.” I let my palms slide around her body, clasping her pert buttocks. “I like women with nice firm butts.” I squeezed her buttocks, stroking them, pulling the girl against me. “You are beautiful, Daja, but please, we’ll leave it at that. Just give it some more time until you’re sure what you want.”

Her lips sought mine. She breathed into my face. “For days I’ve been sure I want you, I want a child by you.”

“No, Daja, it won’t work like that. If you really want to do it, you have to go through the official channels. You apply for a partnership in front of everyone. If no one has serious reasons against it and it would be all right with me, then yes, it could happen. But not alone up here in the mountains, without the consent of all your friends and our doctor, and that’s another thing, you’re not even fourteen years old.”

She didn’t pout, smiled somehow enigmatically, almost like I was used to from Fahsai, and pressed her lips to mine again briefly.

The work in the afternoon went quickly. Although I was not as fast as Babette, I could soon be proud of my twentieth felled tree. After a short cigarette break, I put in the third battery. After another five trees, I had had enough for the day. We pitched the tent, sheltered from the wind, right in the snaking path that had been cleared days ago. The fire flickered in front of it and I heated the Caldo Blanco, the colourful soup with lamb pre-cooked by Luisa. Like most of my dear cook’s food, it tasted delicious.

Soon Daja sat down once again between my thighs, but this time she tried to press her bottom against my abdomen as if she wanted to stimulate my manhood. Then she took my hands, put them on her tiny breasts and asked uncertainly, “Michael, my breasts are still very small, actually too small, aren’t they?”

Seizing the opportunity, I stimulated her warmth with my fingers. “You are so wonderfully slim, in the middle of growth. I like girls with perfectly flat breasts, where you can watch a child develop into a woman.” My thumbs found her nipples, teasing them, while my fingers stimulated the beginnings of her breast. I noticed her breathing quicken slightly.

“Daja, your breasts are like a gift, like a promise of much love in the future. I know how your still somewhat small breasts will one day develop into appetising breasts, with hard nipples that your lover can and will play with.”

She turned to me and spoke, slyly imitating me, “And I like men, strong, strong men like you, with lots of experience and tenderness, with strong lips, lips that beg to be kissed.” Again, she tried a kiss, but my chin rested on her shoulder. I felt her breathing quicken further as my arms caressed her back. Her body literally began to glow. Amazed, I noticed the pleasant smell of her sweat, apparently secreted in streams. She was on her way to give herself to me. Maybe she didn’t even notice, it was animalistic urges, but I couldn’t take advantage of that. When I loosened a little, I saw her full arousal. Daja’s face was tilted towards mine, her eyes shining as if she were enchanted.

As if it were a matter of course, I placed my hands on her temples, kissed her forehead, then her thoughts flashed through my mind. “Please, kiss me at last, kiss me, take me, love me.” It was like with Nuria, her innermost desires clouded my mind, but I remained strong. It was a gift from the Incas; my fingers could transmit parts of their thoughts.

“Daja, okay, you are a very different, a very lovely, a demanding young woman today, but it doesn’t work like that. If you promise to be sweet afterwards, I’ll show you how I like to kiss a woman.”

“Too bad, I was looking forward to it so much, I have discussed everything with Mayari and Isa, how I can succeed in seducing you. Well, I promise you. When you have shown me how to kiss properly, I won’t press you any further.”

Smiling, I stroked her hair. “Daja, you seduced me like crazy. I almost lost my temper, but please, we still have plenty of time.” I bent down until my mouth touched her lips. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, like a little peacock waiting for food. The fingers of my right hand closed her lips. I kissed the corners of her mouth left and right, brushed my lips over her cheek to her earlobe, tugged at it with my lips and also with my teeth, cooled her ear, which was glowing with excitement, with my wet tongue. Back it went over her closed eyes, my tongue played with her eyelashes and brows.

When I arrived back at her mouth, I felt her lips, soft and warm, only slightly open. They invited the tip of my tongue to gently penetrate between them and touch the tip of her tongue, and I touched them, like a little boy tasting what was offered to him. It was brilliant when she first timidly withdrew her tongue, but then brought it to mine again, letting it dance back and forth a little, a high pleasure full of chastity and desire at the same time. Through her nose, Daja’s warm breath brushed my cheek. I felt her excitement, thought I could feel the racing beat of her heart as she pressed her body harder against mine. Gently, I broke our kiss, opening my eyes to take in the sight of her. The sun was sparkling its last rays over the ridge, Daja’s now open eyes reflecting the rays. It wasn’t a schmaltzy film; it was reality, a wonderful girl obviously enjoying every second of our togetherness.

We continued our lip and tongue play, very tenderly; still feeling each other out, getting used to each other. Twice she pushed her tongue deep into my mouth, looking at me questioningly, and then sucked on my lower lip, literally sucking it between her lips. I let her, it was her first real kiss, as she whispered to me, and she tested out what she could use to excite herself and me further. Her lower body sought contact with my trousers, found my arousal, and pressed harder against it.

“You can do anything you want to me,” she murmured, “anything.”

I pulled her head to my chest, trying to calm her. The pressure of her womb became even stronger. Perhaps it was the last moment for me not to lose my temper.

“Daja, please, no further. Are you satisfied with my kissing class?” She took my head in both hands and smacked my lips loudly. “It was nice, very nice.” Again, a smack followed. “Michael, I wish for such a goodnight kiss from you every night.” Her tongue sought contact, but I pushed her slightly away from me.

“Turn your back to me and tell me about yourself like last time.” A little listless at first, she soon spread her thoughts out before me, telling me girls’ secrets without thinking, even those that shouldn’t necessarily come to me. She was particularly fond of the time Kira and Isa spent together. Daja told me how she had repeatedly surprised them during their lovemaking. As her reports became more and more intimate, I stopped her flow of words.

“Daja, please, they are your very best friends. You don’t tell anyone else something like that. Please tell me about yourself, how you get along with the women in the village, how you manage your chores, what else is important to you.”

My companion, at some point also companion of the night, haltingly recounted a few episodes from the village, which work was easy for her, where she had problems. She particularly disliked killing and slaughtering animals. She always tried to avoid these necessary tasks. Her thoughts drifted; she didn’t know what to do.

When I put my hands on her head, I intensely felt her desires, or rather, the main desire of her. She wanted to make love with me, she wanted to finally experience what all her friends had told her about, she wanted to experience the ‘fire of love’ herself. Daja pulled my hands to her small breasts, her thoughts booming in my head as she did so. “Come on, already. Why don’t you do something? Am I not good enough for you?”

Of course, I left my hands on her provocative little mounds, even massaged it lightly, but said what was most important to me at the moment. “Daja, my darling, you have blossomed in the last few weeks like the most beautiful flower I know. You are a big splendour. You are far too sweet and too beautiful to experience love for the first time here in the dirty mountains. Please, be so kind, give us time. I like you very much, you are so precious for all of us and lately even more for me. I promise you, soon you will experience true love and wild sex, but not up here in a dirty tent. Daja, please be patient, I like you very much, you are a very dear friend to me.”

As if stung by a tarantula, she turned to me in a flash, knelt between my legs, and looked me in the eyes with joyful excitement. “That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you. You are my love, today and forever.” Her lips sought mine. Our kiss was so warm, not too intimate, but full of the joy of our togetherness. We made love for as long as I could just stand it. My trousers almost burst and the little girl tried to take advantage of that and rubbed her body against me. So, I simply carried her to the tent, warmed our sleeping pads over the fire and prepared our bed for the night.

Daja gave me the water bottle for some oral hygiene. Our homemade toothpaste made from coconut fat, sweetener, made from corn, and some peppermint oil was a wonderful gift from nature. Luisa had invented the recipe and provided a jar for everyone. It was solid like margarine, but dissolved in the mouth and gave a very pleasant breath in addition to oral hygiene. We took advantage of it right after bedtime, kissing and enjoying the wonderful scent and the residual sweetness in our mouths.

After a few minutes, I turned Daja’s back to me, snuggled against her almost childlike body, breathed a few sweet words into her ear and caressed her neck, which was disproportionately elongated at the moment. She cooed like a little pigeon, let me hold her tightly and after a short time she was fast asleep in my arms. A wonderful feeling, I was like her father, her lover, and her husband all in one, at least that’s how I felt. I desired her and at the same time I was worried about her and her further physical development. I realised again at that moment; it was actually wrong to control too much the search for her self-determination. Was it my egoism, was it the male sex drive, was it the special circumstances, or was it the female hormones that led all girls and women into my arms?

But I knew one thing for sure; it was also our way of dealing with the girls as adults. We listened to them, responded to their feelings, gave them responsibility, criticised only when it was absolutely necessary. But the main component was the daily, direct praise. Luisa practised it from the beginning, I had quickly recognised and internalised the principle. Only with our doctor it had taken a few months. But for about a year, she succeeded best, and that was combined with the rarely necessary, but then energetic strictness of a doctor. She educated with a lot of praise and her own example. She had become a perfect woman for our team. As I fell asleep, I mentally gave Mona and Luisa a kiss, full of gratitude to have them in the team. Daja groaned in her sleep as I unknowingly touched her neck with my lips. I had finally found my peace, slept the sleep of a self-satisfied man.

In the morning we danced again in the coolness to warm up and get our tired bones going. Suddenly Daja came running. “Catch me!” she shouted and jumped on me with all her might. Her kiss was only brief, and then came the words, “Michael, now you have a marriageable woman in your arms. Fourteen years ago, today I was born in the early morning.” Damn, I hadn’t thought of her birthday in the hustle and bustle of the last few days. Between little kisses, I stammered the apology for forgetting her special day and warmest congratulations.

Soon my chainsaw was rattling again and Daja was chopping the tree trunks free so that I could place the saw as low as possible. As I wiped the sweat from the fifth felled tree, thunder rumbled for the first time in the far distance. Behind the ice-covered peaks of the mountains, a thundercloud was piling up, at exactly the same speed as during the storm the first year, when we had the huge flood in the valley. That’s when I got scared, scared for all the people in the valley.

While Daja packed everything up, I wanted to make our later work easier by burning the overgrowth that ran between the remaining trees on my bike, I rode half a kilometre to the next overgrown stretch of road and started a fire with my lighter, threw in undergrowth, and soon the flames were blazing. There was hope for a big fire, which the expected rain would put out.

But misfortune seldom comes alone. On the return journey, the air hissed out of my rear tyre. A cactus thorn had drilled into the inner tube. I couldn’t go down the hill like that. Damn it, I cursed, and with the storm coming up.

After I had loaded up the entire luggage and both backpacks Daja, I sent her ahead. The women were to protect the guesthouse with sandbags. I still knew nothing of the inferno that lay ahead of us. I lit a second fire on the short piece we were clearing, and then ran off on my bike. Mighty thunders echoed in the distance, the lightning became more and more glaring. Then I swung myself onto the bike, took no notice of the bike coat and rode as fast as I could towards the valley. Before it started to rain, I had reached the steep part of the road where I couldn’t possibly ride down with a broken inner tube. A few minutes later I was soaking wet, the rain pelting down from the sky. Nature seemed to want to make up for the precipitation of the previously missing rainy season. In addition, a storm was blowing towards the valley, pushing me forward but sometimes almost knocking me down.

I could only see the guesthouse when I stood a few metres in front of it. The girls had erected a mighty barrier of stones, tree trunks and the stored sandbags, much higher and better than the last time. I was pleased when I found it difficult to overcome the obstacle with my bike. When I had entered the house via the terrace, we secured all the doors and windows. Sula, Babette, Fahsai, and Olivia were here, waiting for the storm to hopefully end soon. While I was still drying off, I sent the five ladies, Daja was also here, and Alejandra to the cellar to store everything high up on shelves if possible or to carry valuable things to the two empty rooms on the ground floor. I asked the remaining residents of the palazzo to do the same by radio.

Now the thunderstorm was directly above us. We saw lightning striking the ridges of the mountains. Fearfully, some ladies clutched me as if that could help. We had to endure the staccato of thunder and lightning for maybe twenty minutes, then the storm core had moved a little further. We heard how the rain masses transported stones and debris from the slopes into the valley. They had to be bigger rocks, too. Nasty crashing and splintering of wood boomed through the darkness, but fortunately the rain subsided a little. Almost an hour later it became brighter.

We rejoiced. The worst was over. It hadn’t rained for days either; a flood like the first year was not to be expected. Relieved, we looked at each other, rejoicing over the adventure we had survived.

Alejandra prepared a tea for me, cooked a soup for lunch. Everything was peaceful and relaxed. Just as I was communicating with Ramona by radio, we heard thunderous noises in the distance. What was that? I jumped in front of the house. A giant wave was hurtling towards us, crushing everything in its path, taking trees with it like battering rams. I pressed my body against the door, surely useless when the wave caught us from the side, but it gave me a moment to think. “Everybody upstairs!”, I shouted. Babette had informed Ramona by voice radio. Then it was all too late. The wave had caught us. The erected barrier crashed against the wall of the house, trees smashed through the windows, masses of water almost as high as a man poured through the house. Our solidly built house groaned and moaned, seemed to consider surrendering to the flash flood, but fortunately remained steadfast. It didn’t last too long, maybe ten minutes, then the tidal wave weakened. A little later, only knee-high water was pouring across the entire width of our valley. It was no longer such a dirty broth, rather clear water, incomprehensible to me at that moment, but there was no time to think.