Annie saw the pain in Kamal’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Kamal raised a small smile. “Thank you,” he said. “He was a good man. We had known each other for many years. He was really the only true friend I had. The only person I could trust.”
The waiter cleared their plates, and returned five minutes later with the main course. Kamal had a steak and ale pie, and Annie a seafood linguine.
“How do you think they linked you to Rashid?” asked Annie.
“His house had been turned over while they were at the restaurant. They must have searched his hard drive and gone through his emails. There is no way of covering your tracks completely in this day and age – as soon as a security system is invented then some clever kid comes up with a way to circumnavigate it.” He paused. “Anyway, let us not dwell on these things, it will do no good. We must concentrate on the now.”
Kamal finished his pie in silence. Annie gazed out of the window and chewed thoughtfully on her pasta. It was the first time that she had seen even a hint of emotion from Kamal. Before Rashid’s untimely demise she had thought him unfeeling to the point of robotic. Now, at last, she had caught a glimpse, however slight, of a human being. Her fear of him started to subside. Perhaps he was genuinely going to help her get her family back safely.
Kamal finished his meal and lay his cutlery neatly in the middle of the plate. “Would you like some dessert?” he asked.
“Why not,” Annie replied. The food made a welcome change from the motel crap that they had been eating.
“Then I shall have one also,” said Kamal.
The restaurant was emptying out after the lunchtime rush, and Annie noticed Kamal beginning to relax. Throughout the meal his eyes had been darting around the room, checking every table with suspicion. It had been putting her on edge.
“Do you think we could’ve been followed here?” she asked.
“Probably not,” said Kamal. “Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been checking out everyone in the dining room.”
“I always do. In my business you never know what is going to happen. Complacency kills – look at Rashid.”
“It’s not a good way to live, is it? Being suspicious of everybody. Don’t you want a normal life where you can just relax? I know I do.”
Kamal finished his glass of wine. “Yes, I am coming round to that way of thinking. I am no longer a ‘spring chicken’ as they say. I have got plenty to retire on, so that is what I shall do.”
“What will you do with yourself?” she asked.
“I do not know. I had planned to see out the rest of my days in lazy luxury, but I am not so sure anymore. I feel like I should do something constructive – maybe start up a martial arts school or something like that. Whatever I do, it will be in Mumbai.”
“Is that where you come from then?”
“Yes. It is a wonderful city.”
“What about the attacks on those tourists?”
Kamal gazed out of the window reflectively and said, “One atrocity does not stop it being wonderful.”
They finished their meal quietly. Kamal’s mood had turned sombre. Annie imagined he was thinking about Mumbai. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him. It didn’t matter who he was, or what he’d done, at that moment he was just a traveller in a strange country who missed his home. And missing home was something she knew about only too well. She stopped herself before she regressed to the days of pain.
Chapter 32
Inside the dugout Oggi lay on his bed listening to the soft, hypnotic thud of the rain. The fire burned brightly, the air warm and dry. He felt a surge of pride at his excellent weather-proofing. There was nothing more satisfying than beating the elements.
Across from him, on the other bunk, Stratton was studying the box and the parchment that accompanied it. He had been preoccupied all morning.
“I thought you would have memorized all that by now,” Oggi said. “You’ve been at it for going on three months.”
“There’s a lot to take in,” said Stratton, not looking up. “There’s over three hundred symbols, and they’re all intricate. Some of them are only subtly different. I’ve not only got to memorize each one, but also what it does. Anyway, you should talk, you gave up after a week.”
Oggi was indignant. “I didn’t give up, it just didn’t feel right. That day we brought you back scared me. I felt like I was messing with something I shouldn’t. I don’t think I’m ready to learn any more. I don’t think I could handle it.”
Stratton put down the parchment. “Yeah, sorry. It’s my fault really. I was so determined to give myself a way back if everything went wrong, that I overlooked the effect it would have on you guys. It took a lot of energy.”
“You’re telling me,” said Oggi. “It knocked us off our feet. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. It’s not an experience I want to repeat.”
“You won’t have to. I don’t intend on dying again soon.”
“Well, what do you intend to do?” Oggi asked. “What’s our next move?”
“I’m still thinking about it, but I think we’re going to have to leave the country. God knows how though.”
“Where would we go?”
Stratton placed the parchment back in the box and put it under his bunk. “India,” he said. “Well, India or Burma. But I think India’s slightly more feasible in the current political climate.”
“Why India or Burma though?” Oggi asked.
Stratton put some more wood on the fire and stoked it. “Because that’s where the box comes from. That’s where it belongs. It shouldn’t have been taken away in the first place. It should still be hidden. My grandfather should have taken it back out there instead of burying it in England.”
“Okay, fair enough,” said Oggi. “But what’s the point? Think about all the good things that could come of it. You could teach people how to use the symbols sensibly.”
“It’s a nice idea Oggi, but it won’t work at the moment. The symbols were left for a more harmonious time when man has stopped fighting and made peace with himself and others.”
“But there are good people in the world aren’t there? All around the globe there are pacifists and monks and suchlike: vicars, priests, rabbis, and imams. Surely letting these people learn to harness the power will be good for the whole of mankind. Disease would become a thing of the past.”
Stratton gazed into the flames. “One day it will mate, but not today or anytime soon. The human race has to rid itself of hatred and violence in all forms before it can begin to use the full power of the universe. Any imperfection will twist the power and turn it malevolent.”
Oggi got up, filled the kettle, and hung it over the fire. “But surely the power can rid us of our imperfections,” he said. “Since my attunement, I’ve started to see things differently.”
“I know you have, but it’s a struggle for you isn’t it? You’re in a constant battle with the energy. You said yourself that you didn’t think you were ready to learn any more. I gave you access to too much power. The four Usui symbols are all that the human race can handle right now. They allow just enough energy to flow through the body. They heal mentally and physically at the right pace. Anything more would be overload – as you can testify.”
“Yeah, but that’s just me isn’t it. Who’s to say that someone kinder and wiser would react in the same way? I’m sure a Buddhist monk would be capable of harnessing more energy.”
“I dare say he would,” Stratton agreed. “But it would depend on the monk. The order that guarded the box for two millennia probably used some of the other symbols, but I would guess only sparingly. Suri, the man who saved my grandad in the Burmese jungle, obviously knew how to harness the universe. But I imagine he also knew the dangers.”
The kettle boiled and Oggi made two cups of tea. He handed one to Stratton and said, “Isn’t it a bit arrogant to withhold these secrets from mankind. It’s a bit like these monks were saying ‘we can use it, but you can
’t’.”
“The monks had no choice. They were charged with looking after the secrets down the ages. It wasn’t arrogance that stopped them releasing the symbols, it was compassion. Human beings in charge of divine powers equals total destruction. To have the power of the divine we first have to think like the divine. And that is unconditional love for all things.”
Oggi sipped his tea. “But there are people that think like that aren’t there?”
“Maybe one in a billion,” Stratton replied. “Or maybe less, I don’t know. There are people who claim to think that way, and there are people who want to think that way. It’s the goal of every Buddhist monk to think that way – to empty themselves of hatred, violence, greed and the desire for material things. But it isn’t easy, or everyone would be doing it. It takes years of solitary dedication to even come close. Siddhatta Gotama, or Buddha, called it nibbana, or nirvana if you like – the ‘release of the mind’.
“Look at it this way. However kind or magnanimous we like to think we are, there’s always a bad seed buried somewhere in nearly all of us. It can range from an outright hatred and resentment for all living things, to the tiniest split second of thought. When someone does us a bad turn our natural reaction is defence or retaliation; whether we act upon it or not, it’s still there. As long as there’s one bad thought in the world then it’s dangerous. Negativity multiplies much faster than positivity.”
Oggi pondered his friend’s words. “So you’re basically saying that the symbols won’t be released until the entire human race has wiped out negative or destructive thinking.”
“I suppose I am. It’s all about spiritual evolution. We need to be acting together as one race, a collective consciousness if you like.” He paused. “Have you ever seen those shoals of fish on wildlife programmes? The ones that move as a single entity?”
Oggi nodded. “Yes, I think I know what you mean. They do it to fend off predators don’t they.”
“Yes, exactly. Well, it’s like that. They swirl and turn in perfect harmony, making big and beautiful patterns. They know instinctively what the others are doing. It’s the same with flocks of starlings, and colonies of ants. They all work as one. They don’t think of themselves as separate beings. We might think ourselves the most intelligent creatures on earth and masters of the planet, but spiritually we’re in the dark ages. These animals don’t have religions; they’re not obsessed with individual gain; they’re not constantly involved in petty arguments. They know that the most effective way to survive is as a collective. It’s all about giving up the ‘self’, and flowing – just like Buddha did.”
“Do you think that will ever happen?” Oggi asked.
“I don’t know, but if it doesn’t the human race will destroy itself. I think we can do it, as long as enlightened people stem the tide of greed and hatred. And that doesn’t mean fighting the purveyors of these things; it doesn’t mean killing people we perceive as bad – it means standing firm and not reacting to them. It means showing by example that violence can never be justified. As Gandhi said – ‘an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’.”
Oggi finished his mug of tea, poured another, and lit a cigarette. “I understand what you’re saying, and theoretically it’s all well and good. But what are you meant to do when there are so many injustices being done in the world. What about all the iniquitous regimes like Mugabe, Saddam Hussein, and the Taliban? Do we just stay idle whilst these bullies oppress their people?”
“No, but who are we to judge? Our governments in the so called ‘free world’ are just as oppressive, it’s just more insidious and a lot harder to spot. Any person who presumes to wield power over another is an oppressor, whether it be Genghis Khan, Hitler or your boss at work. And these people wish to wield power because deep down inside they are afraid. There’s no such thing as good or bad Oggi, there’s only serene intelligence and fearful ignorance. And we as a race are still fearfully ignorant. We have to rise above our petty squabbles over land and wealth. In the great school of the cosmos we’ve only just started kindergarten. There’s so many levels to explore, and the only way to reach them is to open your soul to love and infinite possibility.”
Oggi again pondered Stratton’s words. “But how do we get there?” he said.
“I’ve got no idea. It’s different for each individual. All I can say is that the pointers are there. Jesus, Buddha and Muhammad have all preached non-violence, as have many others. But humans still insist that theirs is the best religion, and theirs is the greatest God etc. It’s all bullshit Oggi – these people never wanted it to turn out like this, they didn’t want people starting off religions in their name. All they wanted was worldwide unity and understanding. The problem with humans is that they can so easily twist words to suit their own purpose. There is only one fundamental principle that holds true, and that is, in the immortal words of Bill and Ted: ‘be excellent to each other’.”
Oggi laughed. “So Bill and Ted held the secret to the universe and the meaning of life then?”
“I guess so. But we all hold it, we just have to find it within ourselves. Behind the dusty boxes of hate and the cobwebs of greed.” He paused and grinned. “Anyway I hope that explains why we have to take the box back. Unless of course you think the world is ready to harness the power?”
“No, I think you might be right. But it doesn’t bring us any physically closer to India.”
“No it doesn’t,” Stratton agreed. “But I’m sure an opportunity will present itself soon.”
“Really,” said Oggi with raised eyebrows. “And how do you figure that?”
Stratton said, “Because we need it,” then lay back on his bunk and closed his eyes in meditation.
Chapter 33
Inside the church hall it was pandemonium. Balloons and streamers filled the air, along with the lingering smell of egg and cress sandwiches; empty plates, long despoiled of their food, lay on crumb-ridden tables; and children ran amok with dripping noses, pulling hair and playing ‘it’.
Stella turned to Pat Cronin and smiled. “Well, you’ve certainly done your bit this afternoon,” she said. “But I’m not too sure if any of this is going to help their spiritual development.”
Cronin smiled back. “Of course it will. We don’t want them thinking that Jesus is an old curmudgeon, do we? I want them to see church as a place of happiness. Afternoons like this will help us bring in a new generation of worshippers. The severe reputation of the Catholic Church is driving people away. You can’t expect them to turn up when it’s all doom and gloom, listening to liturgy and answering versicles. I want to break down preconceptions and bring the world back to God.”
“Is this a directive from Rome, or is it just your own idea?”
Cronin looked awkward. “Well, it’s not exactly a directive. But my job is to spread the word and—”
“Convert as many people as possible,” Stella interjected.
“Well, yes. I suppose so,” admitted Cronin. “But I don’t see it as a conversion, I see it as a coming home.”
Stella watched the children’s carefree frolicking and wondered if they weren’t just lambs for the slaughter. In a few years time, with the help of some subtle indoctrination, they would probably be committed to the cause. And from there would stem a lifelong devotion; the same blind devotion that caused the streets of Belfast to become a battleground; the same blind devotion that caused the undisguised animosity between the football clubs Glasgow Celtic and Glasgow Rangers. Catholic against Protestant – two religions with the same God. Two religions killing in the name of a benign deity. She looked across to Cronin and wondered why such a kind and intelligent man couldn’t see that he was helping to create an aggressively partisan world.
“Thanks for helping out this afternoon,” said Cronin, breaking her from her thoughts.
“No problem,” she replied. “I might as well be doing something useful with my time now that I’m out of work.”
“You seem to have a
good way with the children. You’ll make a great mother one day.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “One afternoon’s about as much as I could take. I’m not sure if I could deal with it 24/7. And then there’s the lack of freedom as well. I think I’d go mad having to take a baby everywhere with me.”
Cronin smiled. “I’m sure all that would change once the mothering instinct kicked in. You’d be a natural.”
“Well, maybe one day. I’ve got a life to live first.”
“Yes you have,” said Cronin, skilfully dodging a small child who came tearing past. “And I’m glad to hear you say it. You seem very positive today. You appear to be looking forward again.”
“I am. The last couple of days have been great. I feel like I’m really starting to move on. We haven’t even had the memorial yet, but something inside me has changed already. It’s like a light’s been switched on. I know it sounds corny but I feel like it’s okay to be happy again.”
“Good. I’m glad,” said Cronin. He touched her shoulder lightly and smiled.
The party started to wind down as one by one parents turned up to collect their children. By six o’clock the hall was empty and Stella and Cronin started the laborious job of clearing up.
“You don’t have to help you know,” said Cronin. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’m sure you must be worn out by now with all the shouting and screaming.”
“Well, maybe a little bit. But I’ve got nothing else to do, and I’d feel guilty leaving you with all this – it looks like Armageddon.”
“I’m sure Armageddon will be a picnic after this.” He laughed, then crossed himself and looked to the skies to absolve the remark.
Stella cleared the crockery whilst Cronin made a start on the decorations. The afternoon had taken her back twenty-odd years to her pre-teens. She remembered the magic and excitement well: putting on her best party dress; wrapping presents; scoffing sandwiches, ice cream and jelly; playing pass the parcel and pinning the tail on the donkey; and then going home with a party bag and a slice of cake in a serviette. It heartened her that not much had changed over the years. The only major difference being they were now playing ‘musical chairs’ to the sound of Britney Spears rather than Bros. A warmth suffused her.
Fear of the Fathers: The Reiki Man Trilogy Page 13