by Smith, Skye
"I keep having a nightmare. The same nightmare. It wakes me, and then I fear to sleep again."
"Is it a long nightmare?"
"Very short, but it repeats over and over with different faces."
"Tell it to me." There was silence for a long time. She repeated "Tell me your nightmare, Will."
"I am coaching soccer to a bunch of boys. The balls are brand new. As part of the drill, I pass the ball to one of the boys..." He shuddered
"Go on," she said in a deep hushed voice.
"... the ball explodes and the boy is torn to pieces by the explosion."
"And does the dream end?"
"No, there is another ball and another boy, boom, another ball and boy, boom, I can see their faces so clearly," he was sobbing. "It doesn't end until I wake up."
"Will, the dream is wrong. The dream is not true. What really happens is that the ball has an air leak. When you pass it to a boy, he tries to kick it back, but the air is leaking and the ball goes sideways like when you let go of the air in a balloon. The boy is laughing and runs after the ball.
Listen very carefully, Will. When the next boy wants a ball, it has a leak too, and he chases it laughing. Do you understand? Repeat your new dream to me, and remember to laugh with the boys." She repeated the new dream five or six times, and then she told him to go to sleep.
He was lying diagonally across the bed taking up most of it, so she climbed out of the bed and the net and went over to join Marique in his bed. As she climbed into bed Marique turned to her and asked, "Do you think that will work?"
"If not, then we've lost nothing. But if it works, then his nightmare won't wake him up any more."
"Merde, now you are playing with people's minds," Marique whispered. She cuddled into her friend and looked her straight in the eye. "Promise me you will never play with mine."
Maya gave her friend a lingering and sensuous good night kiss. "I promise."
* * * * *
* * * * *
MAYA'S AURA - Goa to Nepal by Skye Smith
Chapter 8 - Paradise, Goa
It is health that is real wealth and not pieces of gold and silver. - Mahatma Gandhi.
With the bright minds of morning and over a lightly roasted but very strong coffee, they listened for news on the crackling radio, while they talked about what had happened in Anjuna. Two envelopes stuffed with large rupee notes sat on the table between them.
Will pushed at one of the envelopes with his finger. "I still don't understand how you got those pistols and this money from two of the men. It doesn't make sense."
"You're not the only person trained to fight," said a smug Maya. "I have also taken such training. I know ways to disable men, you know, like ways that a weaker person can disable a stronger one using the thumbs in the neck or under the ears, or by pounding the palms over the ears or up the nose."
"But those methods are dangerous. You could kill someone."
"Both men were psychos and rapists and probably a lot worse. I did not even think about right and wrong. I didn't care if they died. I just wanted everyone else to live."
"It doesn't matter," said Marique softly. "The fire would 'ave killed them anyway. My fear is that we left an innocent inside the building. They took Maya away to fuck 'er. Maybe some other girls were also being fucked."
Will reached over and gently squeezed Marique's hand. "Stop thinking that way. That kind of thinking will drive you crazy. Tell yourself, convince yourself, that it didn't happen," he raised his voice slightly. "You must believe that it did not happen. I was listening while I was setting the fires. There were only men's voices on the other side of the wall. I doubt that any of the men were innocent."
They were all silent for a while, then Will spoke again. "So, what now?. Goa is not safe for us. Maya says one of the men was some kind of police chief. A corrupt chief means lots of crooked cops. They will be worried that we can cause big trouble for them. There is nothing more illegal than crooked cops, and nothing more dangerous than crooked cops who feel insecure."
Neither woman spoke, so he made a decision. "We must pack our bags and be ready to leave on short notice. We are very close to the Goa border with the next state of Karnataka, so that is our way out of here. At least if we are caught in the next state, it will not be by the Goan police.
The Goan police will be looking for three ferengis in a mini Gypsy, one middle aged man and two young blonde women. If we are caught, you must tell the cops that you escaped from being kidnapped by slavers, and you are fleeing away from them."
"So, we just tell the truth," Marique gave him a worried look. "but what will 'appen to you if they catch us?"
"I'll be for it. They will try to pin something on me. My only hope is the bus driver. If he tells his story then maybe they will stop looking for us." He stopped talking so they could listen to the news. The fire was mentioned but that was all. There were no details and nothing about the children they had left at the American church.
"So if we make it out of Goa without being caught, can you get us to Dharamsala?" Maya asked. "That was to be our next place to visit."
"Not in my Gypsy. I barely trust it to Panaji and back. We could use the money in those envelopes to buy us a better ride." He thought for a while. "A panel delivery van that we can sleep in. If we don't use hotels, then the police will have a harder time finding us."
"I think we should have left that money to help with the children," said Maya.
"Merde," was Marique’s reply. "We were kidnapped too, you know. We 'ave as much right to the money as any on that bus. Besides, churches are all rich. Let a church spend on the poor for a change, instead of on fancy buildings." She pushed both envelopes towards Will. "Use the money. Will it be enough?"
"We'll find out," Will replied. "This afternoon I'll take my local partner van shopping in Karnataka. If we find a van, I'll put it in his name, and register it there rather than in Goa."
"Well, if you are going shopping," Marique said, "then buy some hair dye for us. I think black would be best, so that our 'air looks like Indian 'air. And some self tanner too, so we can darken our skin." She reached to Maya and straightened the plaits in her girl friends hair. "This 'air gives us away right away. Men always look."
* * * * *
By the evening, they owned the Tata version of the Winger cargo panel van. Will had parked it up the dirt track that was the back way to the house.
The girls wanted to see it right away, so they took their flashlights and some monkus and walked down the path to have a look. It had been a delivery van, so it had front bucket seats but no back ones. The back roof was built high so you could almost stand, and the back had no windows except for the one that was part of the rear door.
Because it was front-wheel drive, the rear floor was flat with no hump. There was just enough room for all three of them to squeeze together and sleep in the back. Will said that he could make a bed from some foam mats he had in his store room. That and some old sleeping bags.
It was a very plain commercial vehicle but it did have a good radio, and air conditioning. The two liter diesel only put out about ninety horses, but it would be reliable and cheap to run.
First thing the next morning they turned the van into a camper, ready to leave. That done, there was nothing to do but wait for news. Oh darn, that meant days and days of sun bathing, swimming, fishing, diving, and early bed. Oh darn, it meant a diet of fish and coconut and the occasional lobster, with just enough beer to put them to sleep at night.
As the paradise days and the long itchy nights crept passed like, the fatique and the shock of that night in Anjuna drifted away and was replaced by laughter and good times. They had a hard time getting used to seeing each other with ebony hair and eyebrows. They could not darken their skin because there was no self tanner to be bought anywhere. Indian women used skin lighteners, and there was absolutely no market in India for products that darkened skin.
Will tried to create his own self tanner. He expe
rimented with coloring bits of himself with various mixtures of the sap of an Indian version of the dandelion, with iodine and some of the hair dye. No matter what the mix, whenever he tried a sample patch on his calves, they made his skin look jaundiced. He kept working on the mix but the women were certainly not going to use it unless it was an emergency.
Marique and Will were now an item, rarely out of each other's company, and when together, always entwined. It still tugged at Maya's heart to see them together, watch them pleasure each other, feeling left out and sort of redundant to their joy.
Only when she was massaging him was she alone with him. He was sleeping much better now, not tossing and turning, not crying out in his sleep. In fact he was sleeping so calmly, that after he and Marique finished their sexual spooning, Maya would slip under the net and share their bed in a Marique sandwich. I mean, just for warmth, you know.
After three more days of Tarzan-style paradise, Will made a beer and condoms run, and brought back every English language newspaper he could find. The newspapers had much deeper coverage of the growing scandal about sex slavery and Russian Mafia than they had been hearing on the radio. It made for great headlines, but the actual facts were fuzzy. Will read the articles outloud to them and as he did so, gave his own best guess at what was really happening.
The Moldovan women were still residing at the American church. "I expect they are trying to convert them. They are blonde enough," he snickered sarcastically.
The police were looking for three British and two American women who were still not accounted for. "It sounds like those three Brits were smart enough to climb on the first plane home before they talk to either the press or the police."
The fifty-eight Nepali children were temporarily living at the YWCA. "Typical, effing whiteman's church couldn't get rid of the little brown children fast enough."
The bodies of a dozen adult males were found in the ruins of the warehouse fire. "Ahhh, good, no women and no children in the ruins. So we didn't leave anyone behind." This caused them all to cheer and dance around the table, and have three way hugs and kisses.
Some men seem to have escaped the fire. Two were bus drivers. One is in custody, and the police are searching for the second. "There I am. Damn it. Of course. They are setting me up to be one of the bus drivers."
Those dead included three Goanese. Two state politicians and one police inspector. Other men have been identified from Russia, and from Trivandrum. It is assumed that the police and politicians were investigating reports of children and women being held against their will. "Yeah, right. The authorities are in cover-their-ass mode."
Ten expensive automobiles have been impounded. Some had extensive fire damage. "So the other police inspectors will have good rides this year."
While browsing the next newspaper, Will suddenly slammed his hand on the table, "Bloody hell. Pack up. We are so out of here. Listen to this. From uh..." he checked the date at the top of the page, "this morning. Ugh.... The detained bus driver was shot while trying to escape. Police tried to wound the man, but a stray bullet hit his heart."
They all looked at each other. Both Will and Maya saw Marique framing a word with her mouth, and beat her to it. "Merde."
* * * * *
They were busy until almost dark, packing, loading, storing, cleaning, and locking things up. When they drove down the dirt track to the highway, the two girls were lying on the foamies in the back. Will was dressed in cheap Indian clothes that would match someone driving a van that still had the name of an electrical wholesale business painted on the door.
They turned north on the highway not south. Will had to tell the old man, his partner, that they were off on a road trip so that he would know to keep his eye on the place and empty the fridge, and pick up the boat. That done they headed south.
When they approached the state border he noticed a lot of police cars. The police were slowing traffic down, and then depending on what they saw, waving them on or waving them over. Will put on his cheap sunglasses. He was waved through. As soon as they saw the Welcome to the State of Karnataka sign they all cheered.
Now that they were safely out of Goa they needed to turn east and climb through the Western Ghat mountains and onto the Deccan plateau, so they could head north to Dharamsala without going near Goa. If they turned at the next big town, Karwar, they could follow the little roads through the Anshi National Park. If they stayed on the coast highway further south to Ankola, they could use the main highway that ran east to the ancient city of Hubli.
"I vote for the park," said Maya. "There won't be any police."
"Yeah," he said. "But it will slow us down and I don't know if we can drive those small roads in the dark."
Maya was looking at the map. "Like, there is bound to be a beach in Karwar so let's head there and park and sleep. Tomorrow at first light we, like, head east through the park."
"No," argued Marique. "We are still too close to Goa to stop. I think we should keep driving. Besides, what if the local police roust us for sleeping in the van on the beach?"
"Ankola then," Will decided.
"So when will we get to Dharamsala?" asked Maya.
"Sheesh, we just started," replied Marique. "It could take us a week. India is a big country and we are driving from the south to the far north. That is like driving from LA to Washington."
"Oh," Maya thought about it. "Oh, I didn't realize. Maybe Will should just take us to a train station inland. You know, where we can catch a train north that doesn't go through Goa."
"I'll drive you to Dharamsala, no problem," replied Will. "Besides, I have the directions to another slaver warehouse up on the border with Nepal. You know, the place where that bus came from."
The girls looked at each other and both kneeled up on their foamies. "Oh no. No more hanging out with slave traders. We are going to Dharamsala."
"I'll drop you in Dharamsala first, and then double back. I have a couple of friends who run a tourist business in Nepal. It's off season for them. I'll get them to help me. I've already emailed them an acount of our adventure."
"Yeah, right," chuckled Maya. "Hi guys, long time no see. By the way do you want to come with me and like, rescue some children and like, have a shoot out with some sex slavers?"
"Don't laugh. That's about all it will take. They were Canadian peace keepers too." His story ended abruptly as he was suddenly very busy with the van. There was steam pouring out of the hood. He pulled out of the traffic into a wide part of the shoulder, then jumped out and popped the hood. The girls got out to have a look too, but he yelled at them to get back in the van and stay out of sight.
He went back and forth to the front of the car a couple of times and searched under the driver's seat for his duct tape. After about fifteen minutes they were back on the road. "One of the cooling hoses has a split in it. The duct tape will get us to Ankola, but before we do any mountain roads I will have to replace the hose."
Luckily there was an auto parts shop still open in the town of Karwar. One of the proprietor's sons obligingly climbed under the van and checked all the hoses. The rest were fine, so they only bought one replacement.
Will couldn't repair it until the engine cooled, so he kept driving south. At Ankola they did not turn east towards Hubli, but instead crossed a long bridge, went through the small town and to the furthest of the town's beaches. There he parked on a beach with the double rear doors facing the ocean.
Even in the dark, the beach was beautiful. There were no people around, but there were fishing boats pulled up on it here and there. They could tell there was a village about a quarter mile south, because of the number of boats pulled up.
* * * * *
At first light he crawled out from his comfy nest next to Marique and walked to the village in search of coffee. He took their cups along, because when traveling in India it was well advised to use your own spoons and cups and plates. This because the locals tended to wash their dishes in bad water, sometimes very bad water
.
After frothy coffees all around at the van, nature called. He kept watch while the women relieved themselves behind some bushes. The sun still wasn't over the mountains so the morning was still dim. Not to complain. It made it more private.
Once there was enough light, he started work on replacing the top hose. It took him less than an hour, which suited the girls just fine, because they went body surfing. This not being Goa, they covered themselves ankle to neck with their Indian body suits. What a difference from swimming nude at Will's mini beach.
"This beach is much nicer than anything I 'ave seen in Goa. Why don't tourists come 'ere instead?" Marique asked him while she peeled out of her body suit. Maya held a beach towel up so she had privacy from the rest of the beach. Will could see her, but he had seen it all before.
Not that Marique didn't tease him playfully. Her teasing usually led to playful caresses. He was tempted to caress her right now, except that his fingers would leave greasy prints on her skin. "This isn't a Christian place, so the tourists wouldn't be able to run around half nude, and more important, they couldn't drink themselves into a stupor every night."
"So 'ow is our van?" Marique said, accidentally letting her sarong slip below her nipples.
"All fixed and ready for the mountains. It was a good thing it blew when it did, else we would have been stranded half way to Hubli."
They tidied the bed and finished dressing and washing, and then moved their luggage out of the front seats where they kept it while they slept, and into the back. They drove back north in order to connect to the Hubli highway. There was a beach front restaurant just before Ankola, and they stopped in for crab omelets. It would be their last seafood for a long time. You just couldn't trust seafood away from the coast.
They said their goodbyes to the ocean and climbed eastward out of Ankola towards Hubli. It was a scenic drive through the rainforest jungle and the lush bush that covered the slopes of the Ghats. For the most part the highway followed a valley, but there were some steep climbs.