Follow the Elephant (14 page)

“Poor Shiva chopping off his son’s head by mistake,” Prem said.

“Yes, but now we have a boy god especially to help children,” Rani said.

“I’m waiting …,”Ben said, winking at her.

Gran and Mrs. Gurin were resting on a grassy knoll when the others joined them. They watched the schoolchildren and their teachers pack up their drawings and leave in a van.

“Reminds me that I’ll be back at school next week,” said Rani.

“And I’ll be on my way back to Canada,” Ben said.

It was three days since Gran had come out of the hospital. The time was going too fast, and still no Shanti.

As soon as they returned Ben and Rani rushed to the computer. There was one message.

Gran sat up as she saw the two of them running across the grass to the veranda.

“Gran! Gran! The eagles brought you good luck,” Ben called. “We’ve just had an email from Dr. Mukherjee, Shanti’s brother.” He stopped to catch his breath. “We’ve found Shanti and she has grandchildren, just like you!”

Gran gasped. “Shanti is alive. I can’t believe it.” She stood up and did a little dance. “Is it really true?”

Ben laughed. “She lives in the north, in Rishikesh, Gran.”

Giggling at Gran’s dance, Rani said, “It is a famous place close to the source of the Ganges River.”

Gran turned to Rani. “You don’t mean the place that was represented in the cave carvings today?”

“Yes,” said Rani. “It is amazing that we should have been to that temple today!”

“I can’t believe any of this.” Gran said, sitting down. “After all these years. To think I’ve finally found Shanti.”

“Her brother wants to see us first to explain something,” Ben said.

“What could he have to explain?” Gran said. “You don’t think Shanti is dying, do you?”

Oh, no … not more dying. Ben turned away.

Gran didn’t look happy anymore. “I couldn’t bear it. To come all this way …” She shook her head. “No, I think I know what it is. Shanti’s brother knows she’s angry with me. He’ll tell me she refuses to see me.”

“I don’t think it could be that, Mrs. Leeson,” Rani said.

“Whatever it is, I have to know.” Gran had that determined look again. “Please email Dr. Mukherjee to tell him we’re coming, Ben.”

Within an hour a reply came from Dr. Mukherjee, giving them the address of his clinic in the centre of Bangalore. Prem agreed to make arrangements for them to leave early the next morning for the ten-hour bus ride. Gran went to invite the Gurins for a farewell dinner in town that night. In a few hours, Ben would have to say goodbye to Rani.

Ben and Gran were waiting outside when Mrs. Gurin and Rani came across the lawn dressed in long saris.

“Oh, how lovely!” Gran said. “I feel very plain in my travelling clothes.”

It was the first time Ben had seen Rani in anything other than western clothes. Her light pink sari had a border of deeper pink trimmed with silver that curved over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, and glistened in the evening light. Coloured glass bracelets jangled up one arm. An elastic bandage was wrapped around her other arm. She smiled at Ben’s face as he stared at her long gold earrings and diamond nose pin.

Following the others, Ben walked beside Rani on the way to town. At the side of the path, blossoming parajit trees flooded the warm night air with a honey-sweet smell. Not for the first time in India, Ben felt as though he were part of a movie set.

Prem had reserved a private room in the restaurant, and they sat around a table spread with a white cloth.

“You might like to try some goat curry,” Rani teased Ben.

“I forbid anyone to eat goat curry tonight!” Ben answered.

Rani batted her eyelashes, showing the black kohl around her eyes. She put her hand on her heart. “My Canadian hero,” she sighed.

The table was loaded as the waiter brought dish after dish of rice, breads and vegetable curries. For a moment things were quiet, then Gran spoke up. “I’d like to ask you something that’s been on my mind, Rani. You’re the young woman here. Tell me what you think about arranged marriages.”

Ben squirmed in his seat. This was embarrassing. Why would Gran question Rani about this right now? At their last dinner together.

The question didn’t seem to bother Rani, who answered right away. “The girls at school all feel that because we’ll go to university and work out in the world, we’ll most probably meet our future husband ourselves. We will know if we are attracted to someone.”

Were her cheeks a little flushed?

Prem added. “I feel the same way, Mrs. Leeson. Though of course, we have great respect for our elders and want them to be part of our decision.”

“Yes,” said Rani. “I would certainly want approval from my mother and Prem. They know me best and want me to marry the right person.”

Gran was thoughtful. “Things have changed then, from the way it was for the older generation of Indian women?”

“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Gurin. “My dear husband was chosen for me. I saw him for the first time on my wedding day.” She smiled at Gran. “Of course, I grew to love him very much. My parents had chosen wisely for me.”

“Things are different now,” Prem said. “It used to be that a dowry was required of the wife’s family. Now the giving of dowries is against the law, but still it is a custom for families to give money, sometimes even a cow, to the prospective husband.”

“You mean you get a cow when you choose a wife?” Ben asked.

“Cows are valuable, you see,” Prem said.

“Not nearly as valuable as a good wife!” Rani said, making everyone laugh. “I’m glad compulsory dowries are against the law now.”

Gran beamed around the table at everyone. “Thanks to our friends, the Gurin family, for giving us so much help and being such good company. You will always have a special place in my heart.”

Mine too, thought Ben.

On the way back to the resort, Rani said to Ben, “Now can you understand how seeing the eagles brought good fortune to your grandmother?”

“I think Ganesh had a hand — maybe a trunk — in it too, don’t you? All those lemon sweets I gave him!” Ben said.

“I’m happy for your grandmother, but sad you’re leaving so soon.”

“I’ll come back to India one day. I promise you that. And you won’t need eagles to tell you when.” Ben moved his fingers over an imaginary keyboard. “I’ll be sending an email!”

When they returned to the compound, Ben asked Rani to wait while he got something from his room.

“This is to help you remember me.” Ben put his red baseball cap that said CANADA on Rani’s head. She looked so awesome that his heart gave a thump. He almost reached out to take her hand, but stopped himself. All of a sudden Ben felt shy. “Like it?” he asked.

“Yep,” answered Rani with a toss of her long hair.

AS THE DRIVER RELEASED
the air brakes and backed the bus out of the terminal, Ben had a last glimpse of Rani. She wore the baseball cap and she was waving at him. Waving with her bandaged arm. That meant it was better.

Sitting in the front seat, Ben turned and looked back at the other passengers on the bus. He and Gran were the only foreigners. He had the window seat and struggled to open the window to get rid of the stuffy air, but it wouldn’t move. Gran was kicking aside the peanut shells and plastic wrap under her feet. Then the driver flicked a switch, sending a blast of Bollywood music out of the speakers above their heads.

The bus lurched onto the highway and soon they were passing through fields of tall green sugar cane. At the side of the road, two white bullocks with long curved horns pulled a cart loaded with cane stalks. A local bus careened past them on the narrow road, with passengers packed inside and piles of luggage teetering on the overloaded rooftop. Farther along, women in saris marched at the side of the road, balancing stones on their heads, delivering them to workmen who were repairing the road.

Inside the bus, the raucous movie music blared; passengers smoked and talked incessantly, babies cried, the air got heavier. Ben wrote Rani’s name in the dust on the window. Suddenly, Gran leaned over him, shouting to be heard above the music. “See across from us, one row back — that man with the woven basket beside him? I’ve been watching. The basket is moving!”

Ben leaned across Gran to look. Not only was the basket shifting on the seat, but something inside was pushing against the lid and the only thing that kept it from opening were two handles crossed over the top. As Ben watched, the basket gave a violent jerk.

“It’s a snake!” Gran was on her feet. She was shouting. “I know it! It’s a live snake!” She scrambled across Ben to get to the window seat as far away from the aisle as possible. She put her face in her hands and her shoulders rocked from side to side. Muffled whimpering sounds came from behind her hands. Ben hoped she wouldn’t scream again.

Gran lowered her shaking hands and turned to him. “This is my worst nightmare come true. There’s a poisonous snake right beside us in this bus.
Get it away, Ben!
”

Ben tried to tell her what he knew about performing cobras. “It’s okay, Gran. Rani said snake charmers take the poison sacs out of their snakes. They’re completely harmless.”

“I don’t
care
!” She poked his arm. “Poison sacs or not, there’s still a live snake inside that basket and the stupid man hasn’t even tied the lid on!
I can’t stand it. Do something. Please!
”

Sure enough, a narrow flute rested beside the man. It was a snake charmer with his snake all right, almost certainly a cobra, and those straw handles were quite flimsy. He stared at the man who had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping.

Maybe Rani had been wrong. Maybe snakes out here in the country were not the same as big city snakes. Whatever the truth was, he and his grandmother were inside a bus tearing down the highway with a live cobra across the aisle.

Ben jumped when Gran shook his shoulder and yelled in his ear. “Ben, tell the driver to make that man take the snake off the bus! Why would they let a snake get on a bus anyway?
Go on, tell him!
” Her whole body was trembling.

Ben tried to reason with her. “Snake charmers have a right to be on a bus. They have to travel, just like us.” He saw that the man had woken, probably from Gran’s yelling. “Gran, he’s got his hand on the lid. The snake can’t get out now.”

It was as though she hadn’t heard him. “
We’re trapped!
” shrieked Gran. She was gasping for air in an alarming way.

Was this how someone behaved when they were having a panic attack? Weren’t you supposed to throw water on their faces? No point looking in his pack. He didn’t have any water.

Just then, the bus slowed and the driver pulled into an open area with a few huts. It was obviously a stop for food, and Gran became desperate to get out. She leapt over Ben, caught her foot on his shin and sprawled, face across his lap. Her skirt had twisted around her legs, and her arms thrashed wildly in the aisle, perilously close to the man with the snake. Uttering shrill yaps that reminded Ben of an angry Pekingese, his grandmother scrambled to get on her feet. Attempting to push down her skirt, she stumbled and shoved her way past the other passengers to get out of the bus.

Ben slid down in his seat; the other passengers filed off, followed by the snake charmer, his flute in one hand and the basket in the other. Ben bent down to pick up his grandmother’s baseball cap, hooked his backpack over his shoulder and was the last off the bus.

His grandmother was sitting hunched over on a bench in the dirt square. He went closer; her hands were pressed into her face, but the Pekingese noises had stopped.

“Here’s your hat, Gran,” he said, dusting it off and sitting down beside her. “You’ll be fine now. See, the snake charmer is way up the road. He probably lives near here.”

Gran took a deep breath and wiped her face. Gradually she stopped shaking, but her face was puffy and her grey hair stuck up in all directions, making her look as though she’d been in a windstorm. Her voice was raspy and tight. “Just let me get myself together, Ben.”

Ben went to one of the stalls and brought back the only drink he could find — a red syrupy drink in a plastic bag, with a straw sticking through the hole where the bag had been tied. It was good to be in charge of the money and he’d never admit it to Gran, but he liked carrying their rupees in the money belt. They felt safe there.

Ben noticed some bus passengers standing in a circle to watch a show. He told Gran he wanted to see what it was and made his way to the front. A tall performer was holding up a box of metal nails. One by one the man began swallowing the nails; large ones, small ones, whole clusters of nails were disappearing down his throat. The man dipped his chin and swallowed over and over again.

Then, signalling the crowd to pay attention, he began to cough up the nails, singly and in clumps, spitting them into the tin box. If Ben wasn’t standing right in front of the man, he never would have believed it. The man rubbed his throat, bowed and passed around a cup for the crowd to show their gratitude. Along with everyone else, Ben dropped in coins from his pocket.

“You should have seen that guy, Gran,” Ben said, sitting down beside her. “It was amazing.” He passed Gran one of the samosas the Gurins had sent with them.

“I just can’t eat,” she said. “I’m sorry for my outburst, Ben. I’ve never actually been that close to a live snake.”

“No problem now, Gran. The guy and his snake are way gone.”

“I feel ashamed of myself. I’m just going to sit quietly until the bus leaves.”

Ben turned and saw a young boy half-lying on a skateboard rolling toward him. The boy had no legs and his body ended where his legs should have started. Ben stared. The boy was about eight or nine and had a grim set to his lean face. Using his arms, he was propelling himself through the dirt, coming closer and calling for rupees. How could anyone live like that? To have to lie on a skateboard and beg because you had no legs.

The passengers waiting to get back on the bus saw the boy, but only a few tossed coins to him. Ben opened his backpack and took out the last two bananas and put them on the skateboard. He hesitated a moment, then reached for his pocket knife and put it in the boy’s hand. The boy stared up at Ben, then back down at the knife. Ben nodded to show the boy he could keep the knife and was rewarded with a smile that lit up the boy’s entire face.

Ben crouched down beside the skateboard to demonstrate the three blades, the scissors and the bottle opener. He watched while the boy tested the longest blade for sharpness against his finger. They were both so absorbed that Ben didn’t hear the bus doors close and the driver start the engine. He didn’t notice the bus swing out of the clearing until the back wheels sent dust spitting down on the two of them. He stood up to see the bus tearing down the road. Gran had let the driver leave without him!

Ben grabbed his backpack and began to run down the highway. He ran as fast as he could, panting hard, breathing in dust, until he realized he’d never catch the bus. He slowed, staggered and after a while, stopped.

He tried to get his thoughts together. Here he was, thirteen years old, alone on a dusty road somewhere in south India. Too old to cry. Too scared to hitch a ride. Too stupid to have any other ideas about what to do.

Ben watched the bus get smaller and smaller, his thoughts whirling. He hadn’t wanted to be on the stupid bus anyway. What he really wanted was to be back on the beach with Rani.

Then, like something seen from the wrong end of a pair of binoculars, the bus stopped, turned and headed back along the road toward him.

The passengers cheered when Ben climbed on — everyone but Gran, whose face was as white as a snowman’s. He thumped himself down beside her.

“I’m so sorry, Ben.” She spoke quickly, sounding like a kid who’s had a bad scare. “When I got on I had to check to make sure the snake wasn’t anywhere on the bus, and I was so tired, I just sat down and closed my eyes. When I looked over and saw you weren’t beside me, I panicked.” Her eyes pleaded with Ben to understand. “I rushed up to the driver as fast as I could but it was hard to make him understand we’d left you behind. He didn’t speak English so I was using sign language, pointing to your seat, holding up two fingers, doing everything I could to get him to turn around.”

Another time Ben might have laughed at the thought of his grandmother using sign language with the bus driver, but not now. “I just can’t believe you let the bus drive away without me! I stood there on the road thinking I’d never find you. I thought I’d have to get back to Canada by myself.”

“I’m sorry, very sorry.” Gran’s face was crumbling.

Ben wiped his sweaty forehead and reached in his pack for water. The grit in his teeth reminded him of the mouthful of dirt he’d eaten on a dare when he was four. Of course, there was no water in his pack.

“This trip has been one disaster after another. I’m sick of it. I wish I was back in Canada right now,” he said.

“I don’t blame you, Ben. I feel angry with myself. I talk to you about being responsible and then I do a thing like this. I wish the trip was over too.”

Ben didn’t like to hear his grandmother say that. It was okay if a kid said it; you blurt out all kinds of things when you’re fuming mad at being dumped on the side of the road. “You don’t mean that, Gran.”

“I guess not, but we have no idea why Shanti’s brother asked to see us. I’m worried about what we’re going to find out.”

Ben was too, but there was no point trying to guess what it was. He leaned back on the seat.

“What were you doing back there, anyway, Ben? Didn’t you see everyone getting on the bus?”

“I gave my pocket knife to that boy without legs and I was showing him some of the neat things about it.”

“You let him have the pocket knife I gave you for Christmas?”

“I’m sorry, Gran. I had to. That boy had nothing.”

“But you used that knife all the time to peel fruit.”

“I loved that knife, and I’ll miss it. Remember I used the scissors to make cut-offs out of these jeans?”

“I’m surprised you’d give it away.”

“I gave it to him without thinking, but I’m glad I did. That boy was the most handicapped person I’ve ever seen. He has a terrible life ahead of him. I can get another knife, but that boy won’t ever get anything special.”

Gran smiled at him. “I think I understand, Ben.”

Gran was quiet, and Ben’s thoughts were about the boy. Ben wondered how he’d lost both legs. Could he have been born like that? Or been in some kind of horrible accident? He’d never forget the boy’s smile when he’d realized he could keep the knife.

The rocking of the bus calmed Ben, and his eyes closed. He and Gran would be in Canada in a few days. Maybe they’d leave on the plane without ever seeing Shanti. He’d been so certain he’d find her on the site of her old school; he’d imagined Gran admiring him, saying how smart he was. She’d say the computer did have some useful things about it, after all. But now, unexpectedly, just because Gran had been sick, they’d met Dr. Dhaliwal and were on their way to meet Shanti’s brother. It was funny how things worked. If she hadn’t got sick, they’d be back to where they were the day they’d arrived in India. Now they might be close to actually meeting Shanti. Maybe it would all work out, but then, being India, it just as likely might not. Ben could feel himself dozing off.

He opened his eyes and realized the bus was passing small shacks and houses that were probably the outskirts of Bangalore. They passed more shops on suburban streets and finally came to a halt at the city bus terminal. It was four o’clock in the afternoon when they got off the bus.

“Let’s find a hotel and go to see Dr. Mukherjee while his clinic is still open,” Gran said. Her sleep on the bus seemed to have helped her recover, both from the scare with the cobra and from leaving him behind on the road.