"Ruki, it's one thing to look the other way and tolerate an occasional dalliance. But aren't you ever bothered by it?"
Rukmani stared at him. "Of course I'm bothered. I'm not a rock. I have feelings. But there's nothing I can do. So why sweat it?"
"It's that attitude that pisses me off. You're so casual about everything—life, death, sex, blow jobs. Like some Buddhist monk. It's all one grand illusion."
Her voice quivered. "So how should I act? Jealous? Snoopy? Distrusting? And what would you do if I started making demands? You'd be out the door in a minute."
"There's a big difference between raving jealousy and total apathy."
"On the contrary, it's a very fine line. You've got a fierce need for independence, Romulus. Look at how you live, where you live, the strange hours you keep, your longest relationship is with a woman who treats you like dirt. Which guarantees you complete failure with other women in the future. You don't want to be tied down to anyone or anything. Which really is the heart of this matter. Your mom is going to cramp your style. And you don't like your style cramped. Which is why I'm so damn casual. If I started getting pushy, you'd be long gone."
"What are you talking about? I'm the one who keeps telling you to name a date."
"In my book, that's not a serious marriage proposal." Rukmani imitated, "'Give me a date.' That's nothing but a carefully constructed cop-out meant to make you feel righteous."
"So what do you want? For me to get down on my knees?"
"It would be a start!"
"God, you're…imposs—" He started to kneel.
Rukmani held him back. "The answer's yes."
Poe stared at her, not truly believing what had just transpired. "Okay. So…everything's settled."
"Guess so."
Neither spoke. Then Poe said, "My house is kind of small…"
Rukmani sighed. "You know, it doesn't have to be right away. I know what that rattrap means to you." She began to stir ice into a tall pitcher filled with tea. "It's okay, Rom. We'll work on compromising later. For the time being, you keep your place, I'll keep mine."
Poe laughed nervously. "You're just as scared as I am."
She poured the tea into tumblers, then rubbed her forehead. "To me, marriage is equivalent to slavery."
"So why would you want to do it again?"
She stared at her tea glass, her eyes red and moist. "I like you."
Poe held back a smile. "I like you, too."
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "My parents aren't going to be happy. Neither will my kids like it. You're not Indian. At least, not the right type of Indian."
"Since when has race become an issue in your life?"
"Old ways die hard." She sipped tea, handed him a glass. "Ah, perfect!" Abruptly, she studied him intently. "You're lighter than I am—which is actually a plus. But you've got a lot of yellow in your skin tones."
"Blame it on Mom."
"Even so, with a few strategic applications of makeup, you could pass. If I cut your hair, teach you a few customs and a few words of Hindi…call you Siddartha…just maybe we could pull this off. I'll tell them that you're very acculturated."
"You are kidding, aren't you?"
She stroked his face. "It's all physical, you know. I'm totally enthralled with you sexually."
"Me?"
"My first husband was an old, ugly man. Sex with him was not only painful, but torturous. Rom, I see you, I see God—or what God meant sex to be." She sighed. "I shouldn't be telling you this. It'll just swell your head."
Poe turned serious. "As long as we're playing true confessions, I suppose I should tell you." He looked in her eyes. "I can't have children, Rukmani. I'm sterile."
Stunned, Rukmani stared back and said nothing.
Poe looked away. "I had these hormone treatments when I was a teenager. It resulted in some kind of weird adverse cellular reaction that basically fried my gonads. I didn't even know about it until I found out that Remus was sterile. Even so, his treatments were a lot more aggressive. So it really came as a shock."
Rukmani took his hands. "I'm so sorry."
Poe attempted a smile. "I've made peace with it. But if it's important to you…having more kids…"
"It's not a problem."
Again, Poe smiled weakly. "Great."
Rukmani held his face. "We always used birth control. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was embarrassed." He turned away. "I have a lot of…unusual habits. Flaws that are highly visible. Why add a hidden deficiency?"
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Rom, there is nothing deficient about you in any way, shape, or form."
Poe smiled, wiped her cheeks with his thumb, kissed her lips. "Is Hindi a hard language?"
Rukmani rocked her wrist back and forth.
Poe's beeper went off. He glanced at the number across the read-out. "Remus. What does he want this time?"
"Better than Alison."
"Moratorium on her, please?"
Rukmani gave him the peace sign. Poe punched up Remus's number on his cellular. "What's up?"
"Mom's missing!"
"What?"
"I've just finished up with the airlines. It took me over two hours just to convince them I was legitimate. It appears that she bought a ticket that should have put her into Las Vegas around eleven this morning. Are you at work?"
"No, I'm at Ruk—"
"Can you check your house for me?"
There was booze in his house! Poe said, "I'm on my way."
"Rom, I feel terrible about this. Do you want me to come down?"
"Premature. I'll take care of it." He put his hand over the receiver. To Ruki, he said, "My mother's missing. I've got to go home—"
"I'll come with you."
Remus said, "Rom, I swear I've never yelled at that woman in my life. But today…she just got to me. God, if anything happened—"
"Nothing's going to happen."
"She thinks I've kicked her out of the house. I tried to explain that the move was just temporary."
"I'm going home right now."
"Romulus, you can't put her in an apartment. She'll see it as another rejection. She's too unstable—"
"I'll take care of it, Remus."
"You'll call me?"
"Just as soon as I know something."
"I'm sorry to dump all this in your lap."
"She's my mother, too."
"You've been terrific," Remus said with gratitude. "I'll never forget this, Rom."
A real hero, Poe thought. "Go back to work, Remus. I'll call you as soon as I find her."
Rukmani handed him the keys to his car as she locked up her apartment. "Don't worry. We'll find her."
Poe rolled his eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of."
TWENTY
SHE BURST into tears as soon as Poe opened the door. "It's so nice of you to do this for me!" Wailing as she ran to him, she threw her chicken-bone arms around his neck.
Poe hugged her back, wrinkled his nose at her breath. Scanning the room, he saw the carpetbag resting on his couch, a plastic bag overflowing with comestibles on the counter next to his hotplate. Abutting the plastic bag was his flask of Dalwhinne, the booze a third down. He mouthed to Rukmani to put it away.
Out loud, he said, "Great to see you, Mom."
"My beautiful son," she sobbed out.
"Love you, too," Poe said.
Once she had been substantial—a thick woman with pendulous breasts. Over the last ten years, she had turned delicate, around one hundred ten pounds if that. She had been five-five, but age seemed to have pared off an inch. Saucer brown eyes dripping big globules of tears. Her face was thin, cheekbones jutting out like shelves. Her lips were cracked, her complexion was dry. Her skin tone, normally a shade or two darker than his, appeared wan. The simple hour airline trip had tired her. Wiping her eyes, she pulled away, observed him at arm's length. "I think you grew."
"I don't think so."
"Yes, you did. I swear, Romulu
s, you get taller and taller every time I see you."
No, Ma. You just get shorter. "Really, I don't—"
"You're so beautiful." She turned to Rukmani. "Isn't he beautiful?"
"The best."
Mom smiled at Rukmani as if she finally realized who she was. "And how are you, dear?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Poe. How are you?"
"Oh, please call me Emma."
Poe extricated himself from his mother's grip, picked up her shot glass, the bottom tinged amber. "Sit down, Ma. Can I get you a soda?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I made myself a little drink. I was thirsty. I hope you don't mind."
Poe smiled, feeling a yoke tighten around his neck. "Mom, you're a little bit early—"
"Actually, I've been waiting here at least four hours." To Rukmani, she said sotto voce, "That's why I got so thirsty."
Poe said, "I meant you weren't supposed to come down for a couple of weeks."
Emma stiffened. "I had a fight with your brother. He said terrible things to me."
"I'm sure he didn't mean any—"
"I think this big project went to his head. Mr. Bigshot. Working all the time. Think he cares a fig for me?"
Poe tapped his forehead, pulled out his cellular. "As a matter of fact, he cares very much." He called up Remus's exchange. A moment later he was connected to his brother. "She's here. She's safe."
"Thank God!" Remus bellowed. "Let me talk to her."
"Sure you want to?"
"Put her on, Rom."
Poe gave the phone to his mother. "It's your bigshot son."
"I don't want to talk to him."
"Ma, don't be difficult."
Emma remained as still as stone.
Poe said, "Mom, if you're going to act like a baby—"
She grabbed the phone. "What do you want?"
Poe wagged his finger. "Be nice."
They started to talk in earnest. While they conversed, Poe took the opportunity to rinse her dirty glass with distilled water. Emma had also downed a couple of bottles of his Dos Equis. No sign that she had eaten anything solid.
Rukmani spoke in soothing tones. "What can I do?"
"Shoot me."
"Rom—"
"Go through my cooler. Remove all the beer and take it home with you. I've also got some canned tuna and a half loaf of rye bread. If you don't mind, could you make her a sandwich?"
Rukmani made a face as she rooted through the cooler. She pulled out the tuna. "You've also got some sliced mozzarella. Could I make a cheese sandwich instead?" She put the fish can to her ear. "I hear my ancestors talking to me."
Poe chuckled. "What evil deeds did they do on earth to regress to the state of Starkist?"
Rukmani spoke in a clipped Indian accent. "It is not our place to explain how Siva selects his souls for metempsychosis."
Poe laughed. "Meta what?"
Emma spoke up. "Romulus?"
Poe turned to face her. "Yeah, Ma?"
"He wants to talk to you."
Poe walked over to her, retrieved his cellular. "Yo."
Remus bellowed, "I think I should come down."
Poe said, "As much as I'd like that, it's not necessary."
Remus was unconvinced. "You're sure you're up to this?"
"You've certainly had an attitude change in a week. One minute you're in dire straits, the next you're ready to reverse the edict. Relax. I'll call you when I need you."
Neither spoke. Finally, Remus said, "Could you call tomorrow? Just to give me a progress report?"
"Will do."
Remus said, "I think this is the most we've spoken to each other in fifteen years."
He was right about that. Poe said, "I've got to go. Take care." He hung up, slipped the phone into his pocket. Removing the carpetbag from the couch, he sat next to his mother. "Ruki's making you a delicious cheese sandwich. Isn't that nice of her?"
"Very nice."
"So you will eat it?"
Emma looked offended. "Of course I'll eat it." She took her son's hand. "So…this is nice." Abruptly, she bolted up and opened her carpetbag, dumping its contents onto the floor. "I don't have much…it's a little dirty what I do have. I haven't done the laundry for a while."
"I'll wash it for you."
"Oh, here it is!" Emma picked up a small brown case. "I was so worried I left it home." She opened the box, showed her son a set of ivory tiles.
Poe smiled. "You still play mahj? That's good."
"Do you play?"
"Not anymore."
"It's a wonderful game."
"Yes, it is."
"Oh, you are so wonderful!" To Rukmani, Emma said, "Isn't he wonderful?"
"A peach."
Poe felt his head throb. He took his mother's hand and squeezed it. "Ma, sit down."
Emma sat.
Poe started out, "Ma, I love you—"
"I know you do, sweetheart. We're going to have such fun together."
Rukmani brought in the cheese sandwich, noticed the clothes. She gave Emma her snack, gathered the vestments in her arms, and threw them back in the old woman's carpetbag. "I'll take care of this."
Poe said, "I can do it. I know you're busy."
She waved him off. "I've got my own laundry to do."
She paused. "As long as I'm doing hers, how about yourself? You've been sweating buckets these last twenty minutes."
Poe studied her. "Are you sure?"
Rukmani turned her hands into talking puppets. She spoke in kid voices.
"Are you a sucker?" asked the left.
"Yes, I am a big sucker," answered the right.
"How big?"
She spread her arms apart. "This biiig." In her own voice, she said, "I'll take your dirty underwear now."
Poe went over to his hamper, pulled out a pile, and stuffed it into her arms. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic." Rukmani winked. "I'd forgotten what it was to feel married." She smelled his clothing. "Not too bad. Nice seeing you again, Emma."
"Oh nice seeing you, too, dear."
"How about if we all go out to dinner later tonight?" Rukmani suggested. "Rom's larder is a bit bare."
Emma said, "Why, what a lovely idea! Can we go to that place far up in the sky? It makes me feel like I'm flying."
Rukmani said, "She mean the Needle?"
"I think so," Poe answered.
"Needle it is," Rukmani said. "I'll need your car, Rom."
"Keys are on the counter."
"I'll see you both in a couple of hours."
"Thanks." Poe waited until he heard the car's engine fade to nothing. Then he turned to his mother. "How are you doing?"
"Just fine."
Poe exhaled. There was a long moment of silence. Finally Emma said, "Spit it out, Romulus."
"Mom, I got you a place of your own."
Emma's eyes moistened.
Poe shook his leg as he continued to talk. "A lovely one-bedroom apartment very close to Ruki's place—"
"But far from you?"
"Ten minutes by car. You need me, I'm there in a snap."
"How about if I want to see you? I don't drive, Romulus."
"I've hired someone just for that purpose," he lied. "A wonderful woman who's also a nurse. So if you need anything, she's right there. And if you want to pop over to my place, she can take you—"
"I'm dying, Romulus. I have cancer."
Poe nearly choked on his saliva. His head started to pound as furiously as his heart. He couldn't have heard right. But he knew his ears were fine. A play for pity? He didn't put it past her. Yet the way she looked, her physical deterioration. She was telling the truth.
If he had been a woman, he might have cried.
Alison couldn't get out of bed. Her latest forays had left her exhausted and drained. She had vomited at least four times, yet the nausea refused to abate.
God was punishing her for her evil, that she knew. But it really wasn't her fault. It was the forces driving her, the voices telling her what to do. And th
ey were so insistent. When she did her research, the voice always went away. Because they didn't like it when Alison knew too much. If she could just get out of bed, she could do her research, and then the voices would fade.
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