2Promises

by Phil Armstrong

  “What happened to her?” asked Beth directly.

  “He doesn’t know but he said his daughter may know what happened to Rose.”

  “How do we find his daughter?”

  Sanjeev smiled at Beth. He noticed she was beautiful with emerald green eyes that sparkled in the strong sun. Sanjeev turned and pointed at a door across the narrow lane. “There, Mituraj lives there, this time you come.”

  Sanjeev and Beth left the Taxi in a hurry and crossed the narrow lane. A small thin, two-story house lay ahead of them. The house was modest but it looked well maintained. A wooden door lay at the top of three small stone steps. Either side of the door was narrow windows covered in black iron security bars. Beth approached the door first and knocked firmly using her knuckles. Both looked at each other while waiting for a reply.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 8: Mituraj, a good friend

  Restrained by a brass colored security chain the door was allowed to open a small distance.

  “Who is it? What do you want?” said a nervous voice from within.

  “My name is Beth Martindale I’m here with my driver Sanjeev, we were hoping to speak with Mituraj,” explained Beth.

  “I’m Mituraj, what do you want?” she inquired again.

  “Just five minutes of your time. I’d like to talk with you about a little girl that you grew up with called Rose. I’m desperately trying to find her. I have a message that I’ve sworn to deliver to her. I need your help, please,” said Beth trying to see Mituraj through the narrow gap.

  “Perhaps you can come in but leave your driver outside,” suggested Mituraj.

  Sanjeev instantly smiled at Beth, crumpled the label with the address in his hand and retreated back to the Taxi to wait. With perfect timing the door unlatched and Beth was invited in. When Beth entered the narrow hallway she could see a tall slender woman in her early thirties. She looked healthy and had short hair with large gold colored earrings that dangled. Mituraj wore numerous gold bangles on one wrist and a simple thin red colored twine around her other wrist. Beth angled her arm inwards to hide her fox tattoo. She pressed her wrist into her hip. Mituraj did not smile at Beth she looked nervous and untrusting. It was then that Beth noticed a figure, a small boy hiding behind his Mother. He peered out from around her legs. He was about 10 years old and very shy. He had large brown eyes and neatly parted black hair. He wore a white shirt partially tucked in to his black trousers.

  “School uniform,” thought Beth. Beth closed the door behind her and smiled. “I just need to talk with you if that’s all right?” she explained.

  “Is Rose in some kind of trouble?” asked Mituraj.

  “No, I have news from her family. I know the Kalam family adopted her, but I bring news from her Father. Her real Father,” explained Beth waving the envelope.

  Mituraj looked at Beth with a stern face. “Rose was adopted and the Kalam family were very good to her. She considers them her parents. Rose’s Mother died at birth and her Father abandoned her. I’m not sure news from him would be welcomed.”

  Beth tried again to melt the frosty reception. “I understand how Rose would feel, but I need to put the record straight. Rose’s Father was an honorable man; he was a kind and generous man. He didn’t abandon Rose, he only informed of Rose’s existence a week ago. He asked me to deliver this letter to her, to let her know. He lived in England and unfortunately has passed away. I promised him I would get this to Rose. Do you know where she is?” Beth could sense that she was starting to get through. Mituraj’s body language suggested she was relaxing and starting to trust Beth. Beth was pleased with herself; she was starting to observe these things.

  “I do know where I can find Rose, perhaps if you give me the letter I can deliver it to her. I’ll be seeing Rose in the next day or so,” explained Mituraj.

  “You are indeed a good friend but I promised I would deliver this letter to Rose, and I can’t rest until I’ve done so in person, you understand?” said Beth.

  “You too seem like a good friend. I’ll call Rose and ask her first before I give you her contact information. I’m sorry but I don’t know you and this could be a tale. A good friend watches over her friends, you’re a woman, you understand?” said Mituraj. “Please wait here and I’ll call her.”

  Mituraj disappeared into the house leaving the little boy to watch over Beth. He kept his distance knowing he was safe with distance between them. Within seconds he was safely tucked in behind his Mother’s legs. Mituraj fumbled with the silver colored cell phone. It reflected the light in the hall. Beth thought it looked odd, a woman dressed in a traditional yellow Indian sari using a modern cell phone. Mituraj finally completed her dialing and held the phone to her ear. Beth was still at a distance but she could hear the ringing noise. This woman was calling Rose. She was about to speak with Rose. At least Rose was alive and presumably close. Beth felt very excited, her mouth felt dry as she licked her lips.

  “Rose, hello Mituraj,” the conversation continued but not in English.

  Beth listened intensely, she could hear a woman’s voice through the cell phone speaker but she could not hear actual words. The voice belonged to Rose; the woman she had flown half the way around the world to meet. Mituraj stood between delivering her promise to Anwar and failure. Beth stared at Mituraj who responded by looking down quickly at the floor, unable to meet Beth’s piercing eyes. The conversation continued and Beth could pick out a couple of familiar words. After a short conversation Beth heard Mituraj say, “Bye.” Beth stepped forward a short distance.

  “Can I talk to her?” said Beth. Too late, the phone call had ended and Mituraj had disconnected.

  “I talked with Rose; she wants me to give you her work address. You can go over there it’ll take about 40 minutes from here. I’ll give you her address,” said Mituraj bending down and whispering something to the little boy. Mituraj was still cautious but she seemed to be pointing Beth to the path leading to Rose.

  “Don’t blow it Beth,” she thought, “you’re so close.”

  The little boy ran back to the hallway and presented his Mother with a piece of paper and a pencil. Mituraj wrote on the paper and offered it to Beth.

  “Rose will meet you at her office, it won’t be open for another 2 hours, meet her at 11.30am. My advice is to stay close to your driver, now go please; my husband would not want me talking with you.”

  Beth felt a little offended by Mituraj’s choice of words. As she reached for the paper her fox tattoo was exposed. Mituraj looked down at the fox as Beth took the paper. Thinking quickly she decided to take her chance.

  “I know this is a strange thing to ask but does a Shell mean anything to you? You know a sea Shell or the shape of a Shell? Does it have meaning for you?”

  Mituraj moved past Beth and opened the door, “No, you must go, please, go.”

  Beth could see concern in her eyes, she was not concerned about Beth there was something more, something deeper. Beth felt ignorant. Mituraj had helped Beth; she felt that she should not outstay her welcome. She looked deep into Mituraj’s brown eyes and said, “Thank you.” Beth held her gaze to make her point. She thought she saw a slight smile as she moved through the door and down the stone steps. Beth walked confidently towards the taxi Sanjeev was holding the door open. In that short walk it struck Beth just how hot it had become outside. The sun’s heat was blazing down. The taxi was hot inside with the windows down and the air conditioning off. Beth felt the warmth in the seats as she fastened her seat belt. She felt good.

  “What did she tell you?” asked Sanjeev.

  “Good news, good news,” repeated Beth. She leaned forward and gave Sanjeev the paper, “She told me Rose was alive and she spoke with her on the phone. She called Rose to let her know we’re coming to visit her. She’s expecting us at 11.30am.” Sanjeev studied the address.

  “That’s good news Miss; I will get us there in about 40 minutes. We’ll have some time to kill.” Sanjeev started the engine, closed the
windows, and turned on the air conditioning. The cool air felt great. Beth leaned back in her seat and pulled at the elastic band, releasing her hair. She combed her loose hair with her fingers and pointed her face to the cool air vent. Sanjeev looked at Beth through the mirror and smiled. “Close now Miss, you are close to finding her.”

  “Yes, and I wouldn’t have been able to get this far without your help Sanjeev. I want to thank you for that,” said Beth catching his gaze in the mirror.

  Sanjeev said what he always said, “My pleasure, Miss.”

  Beth had told herself that she would find Rose. It was not until she received the address and heard her voice, that she really felt certain. It was now starting to sink in. It will happen if you truly believe. It sounded like a cliché or a snappy Subra quote but Beth finally understood. She did not gaze out of the window during the drive. She was preoccupied thinking through a number of things. She found herself looking at Lord Ganesha and thinking about the obstacles she had overcome. She was about to find Rose in record time. Beth could tell she was traveling in one consistent direction as if she were heading due north. The buildings and streets looked smarter more refined. She saw mature trees, gardens, and larger houses. A very large house caught Beth’s eye.

  “Sanjeev what’s that?” inquired Beth.

  Sanjeev pulled over and parked the taxi. He told Beth to follow him. “It’s closed to the public today but we have some time to kill. We’ll go up to the gates and look in, you need to see this,” explained Sanjeev.

  It was scorching hot. Beth followed Sanjeev to an entrance where two square marble pillars adorned with decorative urns announced a long driveway. Beth’s hair blew in the warm wind as they both peered inside. Beth started to see the building again. She marveled at the palace with its six large marble pillars holding up a decorated roof. The building was marble colored with stone steps leading up to what looked like neoclassical architecture. Beth thought this building would have been better suited for a Greek Island rather than Kolkata, India. It was surrounded by a high black wrought iron fence, which enclosed a beautiful garden. In the center of the garden was a tall fountain made from stone. The fountain was dry. Three large flagpoles were placed on the roof but no flags flew today. The lush green lawn surprised Beth. The garden was an oasis in a poor, busy city.

  “Someone here had money,” thought Beth.

  Next to the majestic house pillars stood two tall palm trees. The palace had walk out balconies complete with railings and an ornate brown colored roof. A corner of the garden housed a collection of flower urns made from marble. Beth could see the garden filled with large green plants with pink flowers. Facing outwards from the fountain were chiseled marble lions.

  “Anwar and his marble allotment lion,” thought Beth. “There are no such things as coincidences.”

  Sanjeev explained to Beth that the house was very famous in Kolkata. It was appropriately named, “ The Marble Palace.” It looked a little out of place a nineteenth-century mansion in North Kolkata. Sanjeev leaned in and told Beth that she was on Muktaram Babu Street. Sanjeev informed Beth that the Mansions floors and walls were made of solid Marble. A wealthy landlord called Raja Rajendra Mullick had the house built. Sanjeev mentioned the house was completed in “Eighteen thirty something and his descendants lived in the house today. The house is open to the public on certain days of the week but clearly not today. The house has over 100 different types of Marble and had its own Zoo at one time. Inside was a room decorated with mirrors and famous paintings from artists like Ruben. The house has an impressive collection of clocks, over 80 types, I think,” said Sanjeev. “The garden has a lake and statues of Hindu Gods, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, Lord Buddha and other things.”

  Sanjeev was clearly not an art specialist but he was doing a fine job as impromptu tour guide. Beth appreciated the effort. He sounded as though he was proud to show Beth something beautiful about Kolkata. Beth smiled at Sanjeev and she gazed across the lawns through the fence. At that moment a loud screech could be heard. Loud enough to drown out the constant noise of horns and traffic. Beth wheeled around quickly to look at Sanjeev.

  “Peacock Miss, they live in the palace aviary,” explained Sanjeev.

  Beth felt her forearms starting to burn in the blistering hot sun. She had no idea how long she had spent looking at the palace. She imagined the tigers guarding the palace in Mysore. She wondered if this palace was anything like the one Anwar had described. Beth needed to get back to the taxi and the air conditioning. Her jeans felt heavy and she could feel Lord Ganesha still lodged in her pocket.

  “Time to go,” suggested Beth. “Thank you for stopping and showing me this.”

  Beth knew what Sanjeev’s response would be and he did not let her down, “My pleasure, Miss.”

  Sanjeev smiled, nodded his head as his brown eyes glinted in the sun. He turned and walked in the direction of the taxi. Returning to the taxi the inside was hot. The windows had been closed and the air was uncomfortably hot. Sanjeev placed the air conditioning on high to cool the interior quickly. He looked out into the busy road and nudged the taxi back into traffic. Rickshaws buzzed in and out of small gaps, and the taxi continued north. Sanjeev drove for a while before looking in the mirror. Beth combed her limp, loose hair with her fingers. Strands of hair were wet and sticking to her neck. She had cooled down considerably since she returned to the taxi. Beth caught Sanjeev’s glance in the mirror.

  “Miss, I have to tell you something.”

  “What is it?” asked Beth recognizing a new concerned tone from Sanjeev.

  “Located North of the Marble Palace, where this address lies, is not a very pleasant place. I should say it’s not the sort of place where a woman like you should go alone. I will need to escort you Miss. We are heading close to the Sonagachi area. It’s very famous and not very safe. You understand Miss?” asked Sanjeev.

  “No, I don’t understand Sanjeev but I’m smart enough to trust you. You’ve looked after me so far, and I can’t see any reason to doubt you. If you say that I need to stick close, that’s good enough for me,” said Beth feeling butterflies in her stomach.

  As they continued North Beth she could see the surroundings change. As she gazed out of the taxi window she saw poverty, squalor, and desperate people trying to survive. The opulence of the Marble Palace seemed a million miles away. Beth’s face tightened as she saw people living in shantytowns, the streets covered in garbage. Occasionally Beth would lock eyes with women from behind the safety of the taxi window. They would either stare at her with hollow eyes or immediately look down and hang their heads. No one smiled and the energy surrounding this place felt bad.

  “Where are we Sanjeev?” asked Beth.

  “Sonagachi, Miss. In English Sonagachi means, “The Golden Tree.” You won’t find any gold or any trees, just really unhappy, miserable, people. This is Kolkata’s largest red light district. It contains several hundred brothels and over ten thousand prostitutes. This place started as a home for a rich persons mistress. Now it’s not a safe place for women. Many of these women are dying from disease and are addicted to drugs,” Sanjeev explained.

  Beth stared at the narrow lanes and the multi-story stone buildings hiding desperate women. She did not know but most of the women were controlled through cruelty. Beth shivered as the scorching sun blazed through the window. Sanjeev pulled the taxi onto Beadon Street and looked for this intended address. He slowed the taxi allowing people to stare inside. Once they saw Beth they would realize it was not an opportunity for business. Sanjeev found a place to park without disrupting the flow of traffic. Down the side of the road ran a narrow gutter where dirty water trickled. The road was strewn with garbage, small pieces of paper and trash. The place had an odor, a strong pungent smell that turned the nose. The taxi was stationary and Sanjeev stopped the engine. He leaned back over the driver’s seat and looked at Beth.

  “I think we need to go over there,” he said looking to the left. “I need you to come with me
and stay close.”