Goddess of Gotham

by Amanda Lees

  The guy was practically salivating. You’ve got it wrong! she wanted to yell out. I am no longer a goddess. I will age just like you. I am mortal now. But instead she lay there, aware but immobilised. Another jab to her arm and she drifted back down into sleep.

  Some time later, it felt like she was swimming from the bottom of a lake, up to the surface. Was this day or was this night? Was she alive or dead? How long had she lain here, alone in this white, white room? Who was the man who kept terrorising her with his needles? Then, all at once he was back again, bending over her. Beside his, a woman’s face. She looked weird, her features somehow stretched. They were leaning so close that she could feel their breath. The woman’s eyes were unlined, but so very, very old.

  ‘She’s perfect,’ said the woman.

  ‘I told you,’ said the man.

  And then, to her horror, the woman stroked her cheek with one wizened hand.

  ‘This is the face I want,’ said the woman.

  ‘It’s yours. For the right price. There’s a small matter of paying the balance on your deposit.’

  The woman smiled. Her tombstone-like teeth stuck out of ageing gums.

  ‘Simon, darling, I’ll pay whatever it takes. But I want this face and soon.’

  ‘Patience, darling. I have to make sure the donor tissue is absolutely ready. Rejection is a possibility with any transplant. She needs to be primed and prepped.’

  They were talking about her face as if it were on sale. But this was insane. You couldn’t buy a face like a pair of shoes. What on earth was happening? She could feel Simon’s fingertips now, tracing her jaw line.

  ‘I’ll cut here and here,’ he said. ‘There’ll hardly be any scarring. Face transplants take very well, as long as you keep up the drug regime.’

  Cut here and here? Transplant? He meant it. He actually meant he was going to cut off her face and sew it on to this old woman!

  These people were freaks. She had to get out of here. Come on, arm, move! Kick, legs, get going. Nothing, not a twitch. She heard the groan come deep from within her chest. And then another painful jab and she was falling back.

  Slipping under into sleep.

  CHAPTER 18

  Ma read the headline one more time. Manhattan Mystery Girl Vanishes. For once she was glad to see it in the news. Maybe this would help find her.

  ‘Here, honey, take my handkerchief.’ Mrs Brinkman was offering a scrap of lace.

  ‘Ay, amiga,’ Mrs Martinez sighed.

  Lola simply held out a glass of brandy.

  On the counter, Badmash perched, staring out the window. Ma had found him on the doorstep four days before. Without Kumari. He was so distraught she did not like to leave him alone. He had sat on the counter ever since. His feathers flat, his belly thin, Badmash was desolate. Refusing to eat or even sleep, he kept watch for his mistress. Ma’s heart broke every time she looked at him, for herself and for Badmash. She went over and over the last time she saw Kumari in her mind. How she wished she’d run after her.

  ‘I should have stopped her!’ she would wail at intervals over the days that followed. The police said they were doing their best, but Ma did not have much faith.

  ‘This is not like her,’ she would insist. The officers’ expressions spoke volumes. Seemed like the kid had had problems at school. No doubt they’d pick her up Downtown.

  But as time went on, it became clear this was serious. Ma’s one consolation was that Sonny could not have been involved. He’d been fishing upstate with a friend the day Kumari disappeared.

  ‘You think this’ll help?’ gulped Ma, holding the paper up for the whole salon to see.

  ‘Sure it will,’ said Lola staunchly.

  ‘ I vouldn’t be so sure,’ said Mrs Brinkman.

  Ma sighed. They were right, both of them. No one had any answers. All they could do was hope and wait. She’d tried everything else. Or maybe not everything. A germ of an idea lodged in Ma’s mind. By the time seven o’clock came, it was a fully-fledged disease.

  ‘Goodnight,’ said Ma, shooing Lola out the door. ‘You stay safe now, you hear?’

  Lola grinned in her lopsided way and lurched off down the street.

  Locking the door and pulling the blind, Ma reached into her towel cupboard. There it was, at the back. Her precious hoodoo duster. She whirled it round her head.

  ‘Come on, baby, let’s rock!’ crowed Ma.

  Suddenly there came a tap at the door. Must be that darn Lola. She was always forgetting something. She’d forget her own head if it wasn’t stuck to her.

  ‘Lord save us, Lola,’ said Ma, throwing open the door. ‘What is it this time?’

  Except it wasn’t Lola that stood there but a young man. Cute face. Latino look. Kind of familiar, in fact.

  ‘Yeeeeeees?’ said Ma. Couldn’t be too careful. Especially not in this neighbourhood, on your own after dark.

  ‘Hi, I’m Chico,’ said the young man. ‘I’m a friend of Kumari’s.’

  ‘Ohhhh. That Chico. Well, come on in, honey’

  He looked tired, pale despite his olive skin. There were dark rings under his hazel eyes.

  ‘You want somethin’ to drink, Chico?’

  ‘No, thank you, I’m fine.’

  He stood there awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets. He cleared his throat and Ma smiled encouragement.

  ‘I was, ah, just wondering if there’s been any news about Kumari?’

  ‘No, honey, there ain’t. Here, why don’t you sit down?’

  The faint hope on his face crushed, Ma thought he might crumble any minute. This was the boy Kumari had talked about and it was obvious he cared deeply for her.

  ‘There must be something we can do,’ he muttered. ‘Something. Anything. I’ve been looking everywhere, you

  know. Anywhere she might be.’

  ‘I know,’ said Ma. His mouth was trembling. The boy was on the verge of tears. She so wanted to tell him it would be all right. For both their sakes she wanted to fix this. For Badmash, sitting still as stone on the counter. The boy’s eyes followed her gaze.

  ‘Oh Badmash,’ he said softly. ‘You poor thing. You miss her, don’t you? I miss her too, man. I can’t tell you how much.’

  That was when Ma made up her mind. This was no time for pussyfooting. She had been about to start her hoodoo when the boy showed up. She would carry on, whatever he thought and perform the Vision Spell.

  ‘There is something we could do,’ said Ma. ‘Or rather, that I could do.’

  Hope lit up his face like a thousand birthday candles.

  ‘What is it? I’ll try anything.’

  Ma flourished her duster. She would have to go carefully. Most folks thought this a little crazy, never mind some young dude.

  ‘You know anything about magic?’ she asked.

  ‘You mean like conjuring?’

  ‘Ha, conjuring’s for kids. I mean real magic. Hoodoo.’

  Chico shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Dunno. Guess I never thought about it. Except when Kumari . . . ’

  ‘Yeeeeeees?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. Doesn’t matter.’

  Ma gave him a long look, but the boy kept his mouth shut. ‘OK, Chico,’ she said. ‘You can help me out.’

  Handing him the duster, she reached back into the towel cupboard. Pulling out a bunch of roots, a red flannel bag and a jar of powder she also passed them to Chico. From the wardrobe, she retrieved a purple robe, which she wriggled into with some difficulty.

  ‘Suffering rattlesnakes,’ said Ma. ‘Stupid thing must have shrunk.’

  When at last she was ready, she took the duster from Chico.

  ‘Listen to what I say,’ she said. ‘And follow my instructions exactly.’

  ‘OK,’ said Chico.

  The boy was cool. She liked that.

  And now to business. Wishing with all her might, Ma lit a candle. Then, planting her feet wide apart, she raised both arms above her head.

  ‘Come to me,’ she called out.
‘Show me where Kumari is.’

  Whisking the duster round and round, she chanted it again and again. ‘Show me, show me where she is . . . ’

  Whisk, whisk, whisk.

  ‘The powder,’ she commanded.

  Hastily, Chico unscrewed the top of the jar. It had once contained face cream but now the jar was full of what looked like dust.

  ‘Throw it over me,’ said Ma, never dropping her duster rhythm. Whisk, whisk, whisk. Trying to conjure answers from the air.

  ‘OK,’ said Chico, chucking it full in her face.

  ‘I said over me,’ spluttered Ma. ‘Not rat splat in my mouth!’

  ‘S-sorry,’ stuttered Chico.

  ‘Never mind. Hand me the roots, boy, and the bag.’

  Shoving the roots into the bag, she added seven beans from her pocket.

  ‘Wishing beans,’ she said, in answer to Chico’s look. Then, holding the bag up high she rattled it hard.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ she muttered, dancing on the spot. ‘Work, just this one time.’

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Chico, mouth open, staring. Letting out one last caterwaul, Ma sank to her knees, exhausted.

  ‘Help me up, son,’ she gasped. ‘This is not going to work.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ said Chico, trying with all his might to haul her off her knees.

  Slumped in her chair, Ma sagged in disappointment. Nada mas. Never again. She was a rootin’, tootin’ hoodoo hex-up. And then her gaze fell on something, a photograph of a small boy scowling. A picture of Sonny in the old days before he turned really bad.

  ‘Sonny!’ she snarled. ‘This is Sonny’s doing.’

  ‘You saw that?’ asked Chico.

  ‘Nope. I didn’t need to. That picture says it all. Sonny said he was away the day Kumari disappeared. Some cock-and-bull story about fishing upstate with a friend. That picture was taken the day Sonny’s uncle took him fishing when he was eight. The kid hated it and has done ever since. How could I have been so blind?’

  ‘How can you be absolutely sure he was involved?’

  ‘He’s got these brand new sneakers. Lots of bling. Which means he got money from somewhere. And when Sonny gets money it’s never legit. Now I think about it, it all makes sense. Sonny is involved somehow. Someone might even have paid him to take her. After all, she was kidnapped once. Could be the same people behind this. Find Sonny, you find Kumari. It stands to reason.’

  ‘Where’s Sonny now?’ demanded Chico.

  ‘I don’t know. But I’ll track him down.’

  ‘Let me,’ begged Chico. ‘He might tell me stuff he’d never tell you.’

  What he said made sense.

  ‘OK but you be careful,’ said Ma. ‘He hangs out round Fordham Road. Got a friend down there sells sunglasses. Sonny sometimes helps him out. They work a stand outside the kebab shop. If they ain’t there it’s ’cause the cops showed up. Those boys, they don’t have no street licence. If he ain’t there, I don’t know where he is. Boy is a law unto himself.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you,’ said Chico, flinging his arms around Ma.

  ‘Aw shutterbugs,’ said Ma. ‘I can see why Kumari’s sweet on you.’

  ‘She is?’ said Chico. ‘Well, thanks for that, too.’

  Chico strolled down Fordham Road, scoping it out from behind his shades. Over there was the kebab shop. He could see a stand out front, two guys hawking stuff. Ambling over, he pretended to take a look. Fake designer sunglasses, logoed wallets.

  ‘You got anything else?’ he asked, dangling a pair. Neither of these guys looked like Sonny’s photo. Then again, neither of these guys were eight years old. He tried to make out some resemblance to Ma but that too was tough. She had one unique look. Chico squinted at the pair again. Maybe the one on the left.

  ‘Anythin’ else?’ said one with heavy emphasis.

  ‘Yeah, like, you know, other stuff. I mean the real deal, man. The solid gold. You know what I’m saying?’

  The pair behind the stand looked at one another. The one on the left moved to Chico’s side.

  ‘I can get you anythin’ you want. You pay up front. No questions asked.’

  ‘It’s for an acquaintance,’ said Chico. ‘An associate of mine. Said I could rely on you to come up with the goods. Told me you’d do it for a price.’

  The guy’s eyes sharpened, narrowing at the scent of cash. Bingo! Thought Chico.

  ‘Who told you this, man?’

  ‘A mutual friend. He told me to come here, find Sonny.’

  There it was again, that gleam. Looked like his gamble had paid off. It was obvious someone had hired Sonny to do whatever he did. Guys like Sonny were never the boss.

  Taking another wild guess, Chico plunged on.

  ‘My friend, he says you did good last time. With the girl. He’d be willing to pay the same for a similar job. Know what I’m talking about, brother?’

  ‘Razzle said that? He thinks I did good? Well, you tell Simon the price, it just went up. It ain’t so easy snatchin’ someone just like that. Who’s he got in mind this time?’

  ‘Oh just some chick, you know,’ said Chico, heart beating fast.

  ‘Yeah,’ Sonny sniggered. ‘Simon, he likes the chicks. Says he “appreciates their aesthetic”.’

  ‘Weird, huh?’ said Chico. ‘Wonder why he said that.’

  ‘Well, he’s some kind of cosmetic surgeon, ain’t he?’

  ‘Oh yeah, yeah, I know,’ said Chico. ‘What I mean is, “aesthetic”, that’s kind of a long word don’t you think?’

  ‘That’s what you get when you hang out on Park Avenue.’

  ‘Guess so,’ said Chico. ‘Look, I gotta split. Meeting Simon. You know, to talk business.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Sonny. ‘You give him my regards.’

  ‘Oh, I will,’ said Chico. ‘Big time.’ Sucker.

  Heading for the subway as fast as he could, Chico called Assistance for Razzle’s number. His receptionist answered on the third ring, in a deeply shallow sing song tone.

  ‘Simon Razzle, Surgeon to the Stars, Mindy speaking mayihelpyou?’

  ‘Yeah. Got a delivery for Mr Razzle. Just checking I got the address right.’

  ‘431 Park Avenue.’ Slam. The phone went down. Chico smiled despite her rudeness.

  ‘Hang on, Kumari,’ he muttered. ‘I’m on my way’

  He could only hope he was not too late.

  Someone was banging and crashing around. Or maybe she was dreaming. Painfully, she tried to open her eyes. The white light scorched her pupils. There it was again, another bang. Then a shout, sounding very far away. Suddenly the sound exploded into the room. There was one almighty slam.

  ‘Kumari!’

  She knew that voice. Now, where on earth had she heard it?

  ‘Kumari, it’s me Chico,’ it said.

  Chico? Who was Chico?

  ‘Kumari, look at me. What have they done to you, sweetheart?’

  Sweetheart. Now that was nice. Woozily, she tried to smile in his direction.

  ‘Come on, Kumari, we have to go.’

  He was pulling her away from her pillow.

  ‘No, no,’ she protested. ‘Got to sleep.’

  She tried to snuggle back down. Suddenly her cheek was stinging, the blood racing to her skin. What a nerve. He had slapped her!

  ‘Ow,’ she cried, trying to hit him back.

  ‘That’s my girl,’ said Chico.

  Somewhere in the background she heard a groan.

  ‘Ignore that. Come on, Kumari, we’re outta here.’

  He could not have said anything nicer. She tried to stand, swayed and fell. Instantly, he had caught her, sweeping her up in his arms. As they exited the ante-room, Chico stepped over something on the surgery floor. Through the mist that fogged her mind, Kumari saw it was the crazy guy with the needle.

  ‘Don’t worry about him,’ said Chico. ‘He’s out for the count.’

  As he carried her out the door, the world spun faster an
d faster.

  ‘My hero,’ she murmured.

  And then she threw up, all over Chico’s shirt.

  It was the last thing she remembered.

  And the first when she woke up.

  KUMARI’S JOURNAL

  (TOP SECRET. FOR MY EYES ONLY.

  EVERYONE ELSE KEEP OUT!

  THIS MEANS YOU!)

  The World Beyond

  June 20th – 163 days to go (got to drop this counting thing)

  Ever since he rescued me Chico has been super nice. It’s like he’s forgotten all about me being weird and actually wants to be my friend. I just have to try to forget that I threw up all over him. I mean, how embarrassing is that?! But he’s been really nice about it. Said that it was no wonder I was sick considering the stuff Razzle was pumping into me. Told me he’d have done the same (although I’m sure he wouldn’t). Anyway, he saved my life. Simple as that. I will never, ever forget that and I told him so (urk!).

  Even better, Hannah and Charley came round to see me and we ordered in pizza from Giovanni’s. Giovanni’s is just the best and Ma even let us eat it in my room. It was kind of tight – Hannah sat on my bed and Charley on the chest of drawers – but Ma said I wasn’t to get up even to sit on the sofa. The doctor told her I had to rest and she’s taking that very seriously.

  Thing is, I feel fine. I mean, it’s not like I’ve broken anything. I had this really big headache for a day or two that the doc said was from all the drugs. OK – I cry sometimes. Ma says that’s to be expected. She says anyone who’s gone through what I’ve gone through would feel all mixed up for a bit. But Hannah and Charley don’t think I’m mixed up – at least, no more than normal. They even said they don’t care about the freaky goddess stuff – they’re just happy I’m OK. I did try to tell them about being mortal but they started to get those looks on their faces again so I dropped it. I guess it is confusing, one minute me saying I’m a goddess then I’m not. I’m confused, for heaven’s sake, never mind Hannah and Charley!

  Chico’s been to see me a couple of times. He gets on really well with Ma. In fact, I saw her wink at him the other day. I wonder what that was all about. In fact, so much for resting – my room’s more like Grand Central Station. Just after Hannah and Charley left, Ms Martin appeared. Ms Martin actually came to my house! It was weird seeing her out of school and she sat on my bed and everything. Actually, once we’d been talking for a bit I kind of forgot she’s my teacher. She even brought me some candy and told me not to worry about it being unhealthy. And then she told me about this cool trick you can do where you drop mints into Coke and it shoots up really high. She said it was OK to tell me as it was of scientific interest. Somehow I don’t think that will wash with Ma if I try it out in the kitchen.