Follow the Elephant (17 page)

Gran said, “You certainly remembered me! I’m just sorry we only have a few more days before we fly back to Vancouver.”

Shanti answered. “I would never forget you, dear Norah, but it makes me sad that we have only a short time together.”

Gran nodded. “It took us two days to try to find your parents’ address at the registry office, then we travelled to Agra and Varanasi and after that I gave up and we went to stay at the beach in Mahabalipuram. Then I got sick.”

Ben told everyone how Gran had to be taken to the hospital. Shanti was horrified to think that Gran had been so ill.

“But if Gran hadn’t got sick,” Ben said, “we never would have met the doctor who told us about your brother.”

“You’re right, Ben,” Rajiv said.

“I was so impressed, Shanti, with what your brother is doing with the hospice,” Gran said. She told the family that Ben’s father had died in a hospice and how she’d decided to contribute toward the new wing of Dr. Vivek’s hospice.

Shanti and Gran hugged and cried all over again.

Rajiv tapped Ben on the shoulder. “Come and see my computer.” The expression on Ben’s face when he got to Rajiv’s room and saw all the latest computer technology made Rajiv laugh. “A lot of people around the world don’t realize when they contact their computer servers with a problem, they’re usually talking to technicians here in India.”

Rajiv’s room, with its posters of rock stars, piles of messy clothes and an unmade bed, looked remarkably like Ben’s own room.

Rajiv leaned against the wall. “It’s great that you came all the way over here with your grandmother.”

“It’s been quite a trip. Not always great travelling with an older person. We’ve had our moments.”

“I can believe it,” Rajiv said, “though your grandmother seems sharp. Sometimes now when my grandmother is confused and forgets things, it’s hard to know how to handle it. My mother says not to judge, just keep on loving her.”

At least Gran didn’t get confused. And people always seemed to like her. Maybe it was easier to like someone if they weren’t related to you. Maybe he should stop judging everything she did.

When they came downstairs there was talk about the next day. Shanti’s daughter and husband had to work, so Gran and Shanti would have lots of time together.

“Ben and I will be spending all day at the elephant reserve,” Rajiv added.

“I’m there,” Ben said.

Back at the hotel, Gran went up to bed and Ben found a computer in the hotel lobby.

Ben sat at the computer thinking about his conversation with Rajiv about grandmothers. When he was little, he and Gran would say “Love you” to each other every time they said goodbye. Somehow, as he grew up, he’d stopped answering her, and now he couldn’t remember the last time they’d said it.

Before he went to bed, he had a special email to send.

Then Ben deleted his request on the school site. Good old Ganesh had helped him, but not in the way he’d expected.

“YOU SURE YOUR
brother won’t mind?”

“I’m sure. He used to lend me his scooter before I got my own. Just remember to keep your left foot on the ground when you start the engine.”

Ben stepped down hard on the kick starter. The engine sputtered. Rajiv reached over and turned the throttle in the handle. Ben stepped harder and the engine sputtered briefly again, then stopped. He tried twice more until Rajiv told him he’d flooded the carburetor and had to wait.

Ben hoped his grandmother couldn’t hear them, but the noise of the engine brought Gran and Shanti to the side of the house.

“Do you know how to ride one of those bikes, Ben?” Gran asked.

“Yep, and Rajiv is helping me,” Ben answered.

“Don’t you need a licence?”

“Not for scooters,” Rajiv said.

“Be careful.” Ben couldn’t believe his ears when that was all his grandmother said.

Rajiv adjusted the choke and Ben tried again. This time the engine caught and vibrated reassuringly. He let out the clutch and his bike moved ahead. Ben would have liked to wave goodbye but didn’t dare lift his hand off the handlebars.

There wasn’t much traffic on the road, and after a few wobbles, Ben got the hang of it. He kept his eye on Rajiv as he followed behind, on guard for stray dogs, pot holes and Rajiv’s brake light. After they reached the edge of town, Rajiv turned into the parking lot of the elephant reserve and showed Ben where to park the scooter.

“That was a sweet ride!” Ben exclaimed, taking off his helmet.

“You were brilliant for your first time,” Rajiv said, leading Ben to the entrance. Inside, a small barefoot man in a white dhoti greeted them. In good English he introduced himself as Gopal, their guide for the day. “I am a
mahout
, an elephant keeper, and have worked with elephants all my life.” As they walked along a path, Gopal rolled up his sleeve to reveal a ragged scar. “I carry this as a reminder of the time I was charged by a wild boar some years ago in the south.”

Gopal looked at the boys’ faces and laughed. “No need to worry. Here we have only birds, monkeys and deer that live peacefully with the magnificent animals you have come to visit.”

Gopal led them across a bridge onto a raised wooden walkway under a canopy of trees that were filled with the noisy chatter of a flock of parrots. Below them, Ben spotted two grazing deer. Gopal nodded. “You have good eyes for a visitor.”

They came to a clearing, where a platform overlooked a large pool. Six adult elephants with two of their young stood in the mud, dipping their trunks into the water and curling them to their mouths to drink. One of the larger elephants in deeper water tossed sprays of water from its trunk onto its back. The two little ones played around the legs of the adults.

Ben remembered the poor chained elephant at Kali’s temple. What a different life that sad creature led.

Gopal signalled the boys to follow him down the steps. “We will approach the herd slowly. Since we are not busy today, you may help wash the babies.”

The elephants shifted their huge heads to watch the visitors. Their ears flapped and their enormous feet squished the mud. Low grunts and snorts sounded as if they were having a conversation. Ben sniffed the air: the strong smell of elephants.

Gopal went to a shed and took out hand brushes and pails. At the sound of the shed door opening, the little elephants came running up, laying their small trunks along Gopal’s arm and sniffing at Ben and Rajiv. The smell of humans, Ben thought.

The young elephants were the same height as the boys. Ben noticed their spiky eyelashes and touched the trunk of the smallest elephant. It was double the size of his own arm, and it felt soft and firm at the same time. The elephant curled its trunk around Ben’s arm and nuzzled the tip into his neck. The wet lips sucked at Ben’s skin.

“Rajiv has the male. He’s five months and his name is Pad,” Gopal said. “And Ben, your little one is a female, just four months. We call her Pot. They are cousins, and the large females are their mothers, aunts and grown sisters.”

“You mean they’re all related?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” Gopal said. “We don’t keep adult males here. Pad will be moved away when he is three or four years old. Grown males can be aggressive, so we arrange visits once a year. You can guess why,” Gopal giggled behind his hand. Rajiv cast an amused glance at Ben.

Gopal handed the boys two lengths of green sugar cane. “A treat for the little ones today.”

Pot came rushing over on her short legs and grabbed the cane from Ben with her trunk and popped it into her mouth. The snap and crunch of her chewing reminded him of his sister eating popcorn in front of the television.

“Time for a bath,” Gopal said. The boys sloshed pails of water over the animals, who shivered in delight. They scrubbed them from their broad backs down to their feet, going back over their domed heads and around the small trunks.

“They love this!” Ben said. He asked Gopal to get his camera out of his pack to take pictures of the two of them washing the elephants.

“Don’t forget to clean their ears,” Gopal said. “The little ones seem to get lots of mud in there.” Every time Ben lifted his arm to scrub Pot’s ear, she pushed her cold trunk into his armpit, drenching him before he could shove her away. Afterwards, the small elephants ran around the compound, flapping their ears to dry themselves.

“Now, young men, your reward for the hard work is an elephant ride,” Gopal said.

“Brilliant!” Ben exclaimed. At last, his chance to ride an elephant.

“We’ll go together on Purna, Pad’s mother. She’s forty-eight years old and as easygoing as they come.” Gopal took his metal-tipped stick and gently tapped Purna’s shoulder to separate her from the others. Ben was relieved that he didn’t prod with the stick, just used it to guide her.

Purna lumbered toward them and lowered her trunk to the ground. Gopal hopped up on it and in a flash was swung onto the top of the elephant’s head. He pointed to the platform. “You boys get on that way.”

Ben asked, “Could I get up on Purna’s trunk, please?”

Gopal nodded, signalling the elephant to lower her trunk; Ben threw his leg over and climbed on.

Gopal called, “Don’t stand like I did. Sit and lean forward. Hold on tight.”

The next thing Ben knew he was high in the air atop the huge animal’s back. What a ride! “Want to come up this way, Rajiv?”

“I’m there!” Rajiv said, climbing onto Purna’s trunk. When both boys were seated behind Gopal, Purna began her long lumbering steps along the path. Ben thought he’d never be able to explain what sitting on a moving elephant was like. Feeling very unstable and high up, you were lurched forward and swayed from side to side at the same time. It was like a crazy ride at the PNE. Rajiv kept a firm hold on Ben’s waist and he tightened his own arms around Gopal.

Just as Ben got used to Purna’s lurching and swaying, the path into the jungle led through trees with long branches extending across the trail. They had to duck fast to avoid getting knocked on the head. They were so high in the air that, when Gopal pointed to a group of monkeys playing in the trees, the noisy monkeys were at eye level.

“These are the black-faced langur monkeys,” Gopal explained. The monkeys had halos of white hair around their dark faces; their grimaces and smacking sounds were so funny the boys had to laugh. Startled, the monkeys cast their sharp eyes at the intruders and swung away through the trees, tails-over-arms in a leaf-shattering group.

Jungle smells drifted up to Ben, smells of damp foliage and rich soil and, above all, the smell of an elephant under you. Purna’s rough skin felt warm against his legs. He thought of the carving inside the beach cave; the boy’s excited face as he rode the elephant. He was sure his own face had the same look.

Ben felt he had a grin on his face all the way back to Shanti’s house on the scooter. They parked the bikes and rushed into the house, where Gran and Shanti were still talking.

“We washed the little elephants and we rode through the jungle on their mother. It was excellent,” Ben told Gran. “I’ve got great pictures of us washing Pot and Pad for my school report.”

Rajiv grabbed some of Shanti’s coconut cookies for himself and Ben and called, “We’re going to change our wet clothes. I’m taking Ben to do some shopping in town. Meet you at the sari shop at five o’clock.”

In a shop down a side street, Ben spent the rest of the money Uncle Bob had given him. For Lauren, he found an ankle bracelet with silver bells, just like the one Rani wore. He bought a rose-coloured shawl for his mother, and for himself, a brass board game played with tigers and goats. The winner of the game held the tiger that captured all the goats. One other present was tucked in his pack.

In the sari shop, Rajiv’s mother was showing Gran the bolts of silk that lined the walls. Arranged by colours, the rolls transformed the shop walls into a silky rainbow.

Shanti was talking to Gran. “I’d like to give you a gift of a sari, my dear. Would you accept that?”

“I’ve wanted a sari ever since we arrived,” Gran said. “They are so graceful on Indian women, but I wonder, is it proper for a westerner to wear your traditional dress?”

“Of course, especially when it is a gift,” Shanti smiled. “Now you must choose a colour.”

Gran studied one wall and then another, stopping to run her fingers over a soft yellow or rich violet silk. Savita pulled out the bolts, flipping out a length of fabric and gathering it over her arm to show how the silk glowed. “When you have chosen,” she said, “our tailor will make up a matching blouse for you. He will make it by this evening.”

Shanti strolled over to Ben and Rajiv, standing near the door. She peered closely at Ben. “Who do we have here?”

Rajiv grabbed his grandmother’s arm and whispered, “It’s Ben.”

Shanti seemed confused.

“You know, Norah’s grandson from Canada,” Rajiv said.

Suddenly Shanti smiled. “Oh, yes, of course. Ben. Aren’t I silly!” She smiled a little uncertainly and wandered back to the others.

“Sorry, Ben. That sometimes happens, even with me,” Rajiv said.

“No problem,” Ben said. He decided there was no need to upset Gran by telling her.

Gran had chosen a pale green sari with a gold border, and she went with Shanti into the dressing room to learn how to drape the long fabric into a skirt and then into a long shawl over her shoulder. When she came out, Gran’s face glowed, and she twirled in circles, getting herself so dizzy she nearly fell over. For once, Ben didn’t feel embarrassed.

Walking back, Ben came across a statue of Ganesh on a street corner. “Mind if we stop for a minute?” he asked Rajiv.

Ganesh sat on a platform, fat-bellied and smiling, his trunk curling down over his crossed legs. A bowl of candies sat by his bare feet. As Ben looked into the statue’s eyes, he once again had a strong feeling that Ganesh was looking back at him. Then, standing on the Rishikesh street, with the noise and bustle of the people and the traffic around him, Ben said, “Thanks, Ganesh.”

“What did you say?” Rajiv said.

“Nothing. It’s just that Ganesh is special to me.”

“You know, I think of him as my friend.”

Yes, Ben thought. I do too.

That night the two families had dinner at a restaurant; toasts were made with spicy tea, and plans were discussed for their last day in Rishikesh. The following day Ben and Gran would take the train to catch their plane in Delhi.

It was decided that they would all drive up the mountain to see the source of the Ganges River. Savita and Uday would take the day off work, and they’d leave early in the morning.

On the way back to their hotel, the almost full moon sent a track of luminescence over the town. Lights were strung in trees along the temple paths, bells rang out in the night air and the smell of smoke from cooking fires came from all directions. Somewhere, not far away, worshippers were chanting.

“Are you happy to be with Shanti at last, Gran?” Ben asked.

“I am very happy,” was the answer from his sleepy grandmother.

“Bring your jackets. It’s cold in the mountains,” Shanti cautioned as the six of them piled into Uday’s small car the next morning. The road turned and twisted as it clung to the sides of ascending foothills. On one side there was a dense forest; on the other, a sheer drop. After a long drive, they parked the car and followed a narrow trail lined with moss and overhung with tall pines. The air was sparkling cold and Ben was glad he’d packed his jacket, even though this was the first time he’d worn it in India. The air was filled with Rajiv’s whistling.

Ben turned to see why Rajiv was whistling so much and saw Rajiv’s mouth closed in a smile.

“How did you do that?” Ben asked.

“It’s not me.” Rajiv said with a wide grin. “That’s the whistling thrush. I was hoping there’d be one today!”

“You’re kidding me.”

“See, in the trees there, that bright blue bird?”

Just as Ben caught a flash of colour, the bird flew off, leaving the ring of its almost human whistle lingering along the swooping branches of the pines.

High above him the white peaks of the Himalayas pushed against the sky. A giant slab of an age-old glacier sat like frosting along the nearest high ridge. The air was so clear Ben felt he could reach to the top of the highest mountain range in the world.