Goddess for Hire (19 page)

HOAG HOSPITAL
was a state-of-the-art facility located off the 55 freeway and Pacific Coast Highway. The doctors there liked to surf, then shop at the Nike Town down the street.

That was Newport Beach for you.

I washed the crap off my face in the ladies' room, then went to the reception desk.

“Last name?” The nurse asked.

“Last name?” I was baffled. Ram was just Ram. Thankfully I saw my brother inserting coins into a coffee machine and raced off. “How's Ram?” I asked him breathlessly.

He blinked at me from behind his glasses. “Ram? Oh he's fine. Minor concussion. Did you know Hoag has eighteen LDR suites? I checked out their ambulatory surgery floor. I haven't decided on a specialty yet, but obstetrics—”

I tried another tactic. “Where's Ram?”

He blinked again.

“Samir?”

“Sorry. I was just wondering if I could check out the imaging center. Ram's in Room 407. Mom and Dad got him a private suite.”

I took off.

Ram was propped up in bed looking cross while a nurse poked and prodded him. He shot her an offended look. “Please do not handle my person in such a manner. The body is a sacred vessel for the soul.”

The nurse snorted. “Right. Ask me how many sacred bedpans I've changed today.”

Catching sight of me, Ram's frown disappeared. “Maya!”

“I'll be back later,” the nurse said.

Ram stuck his tongue out at her retreating back. “Bah! Irritating woman.”

I reached over and hugged him. “I'm so sorry I didn't come earlier. I'm sorry about everything.”

Ram cupped my face in his hands and stared intently into my eyes. “You have done it. You and the goddess are one.”

I sat in the chair closest to the bed. “I finally realized that I had to stop trying to be the goddess. I am the goddess. Does that make sense?”

Ram sighed happily. “Yes.” After a moment his brow furrowed. “Perhaps it was a language problem that kept me from explaining this to you?”

“We both speak English.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “You do not speak
proper English. Half the time I cannot understand what you are saying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like, whatever.”

“About Sanjay,” Ram began.

I leaned forward. “I will get him. But first I want to know what happened. How did you get hurt?”

For some reason Ram looked embarrassed. “I was petting a cobra when Sanjay entered the building. I was alone, having been given free rein to visit with the snakes.”

I repressed a shudder.

“Sanjay began waving a gun, telling me I must go with him. Luckily, I noticed the nervous glances he kept darting at the snakes. He is very scared of them, you see. Silently, I communicated with my cobra friend, and she hissed in agreement. As Sanjay approached, the cobra coiled and struck at his face. Sanjay screamed, dropped his weapon, and ran out of the building.”

“Wait.” I gave him a puzzled look. “Did you say you communicated with a cobra?”

“Snakes are very intelligent creatures.”

“But I've never seen you do anything incredible like that.”

“Why then did the cobra attack Sanjay and not me?” Ram questioned defensively.

I dropped the subject. “How'd you get the concussion then?”

The embarrassed expression was back.

“The lift was taking too much time, so I chose the
stairs. Some naughty child had left a sticky sweet on one of the steps. My sandal became stuck, and I tripped over my robes and fell down.”

“Oh.” So Sanjay hadn't hurt Ram? If he'd stuck around outside, though, he would have seen the paramedics arrive. Naturally he figured fate had stepped in and done the deed for him.

Sanjay was such a loser.

I took Ram's hand in both of mine. “I'm going to go, okay? I think it's time Sanjay came out of hiding.”

Ram smiled. “I always believed in you.”

“Earlier you said I was practically unteachable.”

“Bah! I had a concussion. I was rambling.”

“You didn't have a concussion then, Ram,” I pointed out.

His expression grew stubborn. “I never doubted you for a moment.”

I squeezed his hand. “I couldn't have done it without you. You are the coolest Brahmin priest I have ever met.”

As I got up, Ram said, “One day books will be written about you.”

I tossed my hair. “Yeah, and I can just see the reviews.
Prozac Nation
meets
A Passage to India
.”

And then, once again, I was running out the door.

 

I nearly ran into Samir in the hallway.

“Hey, Maya, you want half my Snickers?”

Did he really need to ask? “Thanks.” I popped the
chocolate in my mouth. “Have you been here all morning?”

He yawned. “It can get lonely in the hospital. Mom and Dad are at work, and I thought, Ram should at least have someone to talk to.”

I smiled. “You're going to make a kick-ass doctor, you know that?”

Samir blinked. “Thanks.”

I suddenly realized why my brother and I had never gotten along—it was simple—there was no reason. I had mistakenly assumed that because we were different, we would have nothing to talk about, no way to relate. “Listen,” I said, “before you go back to Stanford, maybe we could go out for drinks or something? Catch up?”

He blinked twice. “Okay. That'd be fun.”

My little brother and I. Spending time together.

He was right.

It would be fun.

EXITING THE HOSPITAL,
I nearly ran into someone else.

Note to self: Running with my head down is dangerous and does not add to speed.

I looked up and into a pair of deep black eyes. The kind of eyes that could make a girl swoon.

If she were so inclined.

“Hi,” Tahir said.

“Hi.” Okay and my next line? “Umm, are you here to see Ram?”

“Actually, I was looking for you. Your cell phone was off, and I tried the house. Took a chance you might be here…how's Ram?”

Ram? Who the hell cared about Ram at a time like this? “You were looking for me?” Threads of hope encircled my heart and made it pound.

“Maya—” Tahir stopped as a very pregnant woman and her harried-looking husband brushed by us.

“Don't,” I said before he could finish his sentence. I
couldn't let him go on. Not when I'd been in the wrong as well. “Don't apologize.”

He looked puzzled. “Apologize? I didn't come here to apologize.”

Now I was the one looking puzzled. “You didn't?”

“What is there to apologize for?”

Huh.

“Why are you here then? Aren't you supposed to be at work?”

Tahir neatly stepped aside as a teenage boy on crutches came hobbling by. “I was supposed to take Ma to Universal Studios and took the day off.”

“What happened?”

“I decided to see you instead. She'll deal…as they say.”

I laid my hand against his cheek. “The three of us will go to Universal Studios together.”

Tahir covered my hand with his and kissed me.

There we were in the hospital parking lot. I wasn't one for PDAs—public displays of affection—but after a few moments in Tahir's arms, I forgot there had ever been bird turd on my face.

“Wait.” I pulled away. “We have issues. We can't just kiss and make up.”

He pulled me back. “Of course we can, hence the expression.”

My mind was spinning. A few hours ago I was ready to sleep with the fishes. But things had changed. I had changed. “Tahir…I'm the goddess. I really am.”

“To me you always were.” And then he added almost as an afterthought, “I think we should get married.”

“Okay, I may be a goddess, but I'm also messy, extravagant, and I sleep ten hours a day.”

His lips brushed my forehead. “I'll do the cooking.”

“Thank God.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his shoulder.

He nuzzled my hair. “You take care of the world, Maya. I'll take care of you.”

I closed my eyes. “It's a deal.”

USING MY DIVINE
navigation system, I tracked Sanjay down to a suburb in Santa Ana.

Amazing the things you can do when you believe in yourself.

Gag.

Regardless of how After School Special it sounded though, the fact was, as soon as I truly believed I would find Sanjay, I was able to close my eyes and locate him.

Well almost.

I wasn't able to get an exact address, but I knew I was close.

I roamed one street after another until I struck gold.

Tucked between a beauty salon and a Dairy Queen was a shop called India Emporium.

Hmm, an Indian market.

I'd found gossip central.

 

The interior of the shop was cool and dark and heavy with the scent of spices.

Since I had cleverly deduced that Sanjay was staying with Indira, I also cleverly deduced that Indira would have to rent her Bollywood DVDs and buy her masalas and Indian staples somewhere.

The middle-aged clerk behind the counter wore a gray polyester shirt and black pants. “Excuse me, do you know someone by the name of Indira Bhatia?”

Before he could answer a high-pitched female voice piped up from behind a shelf of Indian pickles. “Mandira or Indira?”

“Indira,” I said.

A tiny woman with black hair down to her waist stepped into the aisle and faced me. “Indira Bhatia on Hillcrest Drive or Indira Bhatia on Maple?”

“Wait, there's two of them?” I asked.

“What DVDs does she rent?” the man behind the counter asked. “The Indira on Maple likes the oldie goldies but Indira on Hillcrest likes the new releases.”

“Chee, you are such a dumbo!” the woman exclaimed. “Don't listen to my husband. Describe your Indira to me.”

“Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, and she wears glasses. She's a chemical engineer.”

“That is Indira on Maple only,” she said, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “But she is no longer having a job.”

“That's definitely her.”

“She was in here with a young man.”

My voice dropped to a whisper as well. “He's her boyfriend. They're living together.”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“And that's not all,” I added. “This same boyfriend nearly murdered a pundit. You wouldn't happen to have Indira's address, would you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Dumbo will give you the address.”

The next moment she was practically running into the back room. Before the door closed I saw her reaching for the phone.

Grist for the gossip mill.

The husband handed me the slip of paper with Indira's address on it.

“Thanks, Dumbo,” I said automatically. “I mean, ah, thanks.”

And then I was—what else—running out the door.

 

I stood in front of a nondescript small yellow house. Sword in hand, I was the Goddess Within.

Remember. Try stealth.

I hesitated, then thought what the hell and kicked the door down.

Stealth was boring.

I stepped into Indira's front hall. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Sanjay and Indira really should have known better.

They'd never stood a chance.

SANJAY CAME DOWN
the stairs with, of course, a gun. Indira clung to him from behind.

Seriously, though, as soon as I took out Sanjay, I was going after his gun supplier.

Sanjay was not engaging in the proper use of firearms.

I stood there with my hands on my hips. “You know, Indira, you really picked a winner. Thanks to him, you've lost your job and your reputation.”

“Reputation?” she asked.

“I told the people at India Emporium that you and Sanjay were living together.”

“You mean the Shahs from India Emporium?” she shrieked. “But they'll tell the Gulatis, who will tell the Ambanis, who will tell the Ramanis and Aruna Ramani's parents live in the flat next door to my parents!” She pushed Sanjay away and sat down on the bottom step. “They'll kill me.”

Sanjay kept the gun trained on me but looked pleadingly at Indira. “Don't worry, Indu.”

“Oh shut up! My life is ruined.”

“What is it you see in him anyway?” I asked. Sanjay glared at me.

Indira cupped her face in her hands. “I like that he has goals, dreams. Otherwise, computer programmers are a dime a dozen.”

“Goals like destroying me and Bill Gates?”

She shrugged. “Makes him interesting.”

Sanjay switched the gun from one hand to the other.

That got my attention. I was the goddess, not a relationship counselor.

“You will never succeed,” he said.

“Why the gun then?” I argued. “If you're so sure I'll fail?”

For a moment he looked dumbfounded.

“Because it is my dharma to kill you,” he finally said.

“Are you sure that's what your dharma is, Sanjay?”

“Yes,” he insisted.

That was the problem with fanatics. They were so damn sure about everything.

I took a step forward. “Then we have a slight problem. Because I'm sure about my dharma. I know without a doubt that I'm here to save the world. I still have a lot to learn. I'm far from enlightened. But I'm never going to give up. And no one is going to stop me. So you see the conflict of interest here? You've sworn to stop me, and I refuse to be stopped.”

“She's right, Sanjay,” Indira called out.

“But Indu,” he protested.

“I'm bored with this,” she said. “I want to do something different. All you ever do is sit around and plan how to destroy Maya. I want to go to Vegas.”

“Indu…”

They continued arguing, but I was no longer paying attention. There was this curious roaring in my ears, like the flapping of thousands of wings. The warmth inside me fired up into something intense, something scalding.

I saw myself riding bareback though a sunset valley on a beautiful black stallion. In one hand I held my sword, in the other a decapitated man's head.

The man was Sanjay.

I didn't know what the vision meant, but I did know one thing.

I was so feeling the shakti.

I'd have to ask Ram about the weird vision. What was up with the horseback riding? I'd never been on a horse in my life.

The familiar wind started up, without my being aware of having called it.

“It ends here, Sanjay.”

He looked at me, and whatever he saw made him open his mouth and step back.

Without any effort I pried the gun from his hands. With just a thought, I increased the wind's intensity so Sanjay was flung back against the hall closet door. Indira was hanging on to the banister for dear life. The wind had loosened her bun, and her locks spun around her face.

I thought the wind-tousled look really did it for her.

“You have a choice, Sanjay. You can live, or you can die. If you live, it will be by my rules.”

He stared up at me without answering.

I prodded him with the edge of my sword. “The Goddess of Destruction does not ask twice.”

“Live,” he whispered. “I'll live.”

I kept the sword trained on him but silently ordered the wind to disappear.

It did.

Yes!

Okay, so I was being a little dramatic with the wind and giving Sanjay the choice between life and death, but it wasn't like I could send him to jail. On what charges? It was my word against his.

And I didn't really want to kill him. “Rise,” I demanded.

Sanjay did, and I looked him straight in the eye. “You will leave California. You will move to Seattle and pursue your dream of destroying Bill Gates. Your desire to create a software program to rival Windows is a worthwhile one. Focus on it. I never want to see you again. If you come near me or mine again, I will know. Believe me, I will know.”

I could see in his eyes that he understood. Maybe it was my whole new well-adjusted Goddess of Destruction persona, maybe it was his desire to keep Indira happy, or maybe I had just succeeded in transferring his fanaticism from me to Bill Gates.

Whatever.

Indira threw herself to the ground at my feet. “Jai Ma Kali!”

I cocked an eyebrow at Sanjay.

He followed suit. “Jai Ma Kali!”

How I loved my worshippers.