“They’re good, aren’t they?” Jigme asked.
She nodded.
“You don’t have anyone?” Jigme asked. “No brothers or sisters? No parents? No gang?”
She shook her head.
“My amma was really sick,” Jigme said. “She almost died. But she’s better now. It was lonely.”
He held up the bag. The girl plucked out two more.
“She is making dinner. Would you like to eat with us?”
The little girl chewed, her eyes locked on his. Long, silent moments passed.
Then she nodded.
Jigme stepped away from the wall and started back through the market toward the alley. The little girl followed, eventually walking beside him. He told her his name. She didn’t tell him hers.
Once they came to the alley, Jigme smiled and said they were nearly there. The little girl squeezed his hand.
“Noorjehan,” she said.
“Light of the world,” Jigme replied. “That’s a pretty name.”
And what was his name? Jigme thought. That boy, following me to the alley.
But Jigme would not let the boy’s face or name come to his mind, would not look or hear. I just brought him into the temple and left when the Smiling Fire said to leave.
With Noorjehan behind him, Jigme came to the red door and opened it. Inside, the small room was so different from when he’d last seen it, as if a different world had moved into the space.
Asha had lit lamps, swept the floor, dusted all the surfaces, changed the bedding. The only thing that had not changed was the dirt on the windows. It was as if Asha had darkened the windows, covered them with layers of ash and soot. No sunlight came into the rooms, dimming what otherwise might have been bright.
Jigme ignored this, noticing instead how different the rooms smelled. Instead of mustiness and sickness, incense wafted through the air, suffused now with the scents of earthy nuttiness of cumin seeds toasting in a hot pan and the sharpness of sliced chiles.
“Amma?” Jigme asked. “This is Noorjehan. Can she come for dinner?”
A smile appeared on Asha’s face, though to Jigme it was not the smile he remembered from earlier days. A hungry fire blazed up in her eyes.
“Hello, Noorjehan,” she said. “I am Asha, but you can call me Amma too.” She nodded at Jigme. “Of course she can stay for dinner.”
Asha pointed at a bucket in the far corner of the room. “I’m sure you would feel better, Noorjehan, if you cleaned up. Jigme, you wash up too.”
The dim corner was darker than the rest of the room, and in the shadows it was easy to forget the world beyond the red door and the dark windows. As he and Noorjehan washed away the dirt and grime of the city, Jigme hardly heard the knock at the door.
Asha motioned for them to stay where they were.
“Who’s there?” Noorjehan whispered. Fear spiked her voice.
“Shh,” Jigme said. “No one has to know where you are.”
Noorjehan smiled and sat down behind the bucket, as if trying to hide.
Asha opened the door. “Ah, Rucksack, Kailash,” she said, standing in the doorway so they could not see past her. “How nice of you to check on us.” Coldness lay over her warm words.
“Is everything okay?” Kailash said. “We keep hearing of strange things happening around the alley lately.”
“Everything is okay,” Asha replied. “And what is India, what is Agamuskara, what is life but a series of strange things happening?”
“Is Jigme here?” Rucksack said. “We’ve been worried about him. I’d love a chat.”
“Jigme is out. You know boys,” Asha said. “They must roam and run. I will tell him you asked about him.”
“Asha.” Kailash paused, as if deciding what to say next. “Do you know what lies at the far end of the alley?”
“Nothing anyone needs to see, I’m sure,” Asha said. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Does Jigme know?” Rucksack said.
“Jigme knows only that his mother is well again. Things will be different now. I can’t talk any longer, I’m afraid. I’m getting dinner ready, and he will be home soon.”
“May we wait with you?” Rucksack asked.
“I’m sorry, but no. I do not yet feel our home is ready for visitors.”
“Another time, then.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Excuse me?” Kailash said.
“I appreciate all you’ve done for us,” Asha replied. “But please, respect the wishes of Jigme’s mother. He has had a difficult time. It is time for me to make recompense, to give him the mother he has needed. You have been truly kind. You were there when I was not. We do not want to inconvenience you anymore.”
“Asha,” Rucksack said.
“No!” Asha’s voice burned hot and loud. “This is my home. Jigme is my son. Leave him alone, see him, speak to him, no more! Leave us alone!”
Before either Rucksack or Kailash could reply, Asha slammed the door and locked it. “Asha?” came the cries, along with more knocks. “Asha?”
But Asha only turned around, her eyes and smile blazing. Eventually, the sounds faded. Rucksack and Kailash left.
Noorjehan and Jigme walked back to the middle of the room. “Is everything okay?” Noorjehan said.
Asha smiled bigger and laid a hand on the girl’s cheek. “Oh, sweet girl,” she said. “It will be.”
ON THE FIRST DAY, Jay left his bed only to stagger to the toilet, and he left the toilet only to stagger to his bed.
With his head between his knees, Jay continued attempting to master the fine art of vomiting and crapping simultaneously into the same hole in the floor.
As usual, he failed.
I no longer have intestines, Jay thought. With trembling hands, he filled bowls of water to rinse the vomit into the toilet hole.
My guts have been replaced by a bunch of pissed-off snakes.
Every time he puked, some part of him remained aware that he was emitting a strangled cry, as if he were trying to yell after having the breath punched out of his gut.
The other people in the dorm must think the roaches are torturing me, he thought, shaking his head. Thin, yellowy bile dripped off his chin and onto his knee.
No, everyone knows good and well I did this to myself.
The roaches had all run away within moments of his coming into the loo. Sometimes he thought he saw them hiding in a crack in the bile-colored plaster or trembling under the sink. How bad is it when the toilet roaches are afraid?
The rest of the day was a hazy mix of fitful not-quite-sleep, attempts to nibble the rice and sip the tea by his bed, followed by another mad dash to the loo, arse cheeks squeezed like a failing dam. The dorm mates were kind, making sure he was okay, leaving a banana or cooled tea.
Jay knew Jade had been there. Her scent lingered until the latest bout of vomit burned it out of his nose.
Kailash hadn’t been at Jay’s bedside but Rucksack had. He’d sat by Jay’s bed for what had seemed like hours, staring, his elbow on his knee, chin resting on his gloved left hand.
Little was clear about the first day, except for the fear on Rucksack’s face.
Rucksack said nothing until he left. “There’s no sick worse than slopplesick.” His right hand squeezed Jay’s shoulder. Warmth passed into Jay from the ancient man. “I only wish I could tell you the worst is over.”
On the second day, Jay tried to get a pint.
The rice had stayed down, as had the tea, which was sweet with a slight salt tang. The trips to the toilet had grown less frequent, though Jay mostly stayed in bed. With every dash to the loo, something more than sickness was falling into Agamuskara’s sewers.
Every time he came out of the toilet, something seemed different. When he stared at his face in the mirror, his skin was waxy and pale, almost bluish. He looked into his eyes, wondering what was changing.
Delirious, he thought. Back to bed.
Later, awake in the empty room, he opened his dayp
ack, took out the dia ubh, and rotated the lifeless globe in his hands. Rucksack tells me there’s something so important about this, he thought.
The dia ubh could have been a large rock, polished to a smooth, featureless perfection, or the moon, its pocked surface healed. Nothing about it seemed important anymore.
They told me I was just lightheaded. His mind went back to that night in the pub, after the first kiss, when the dia ubh had changed. And no one’s said anything since.
What am I not being told?
Jay shook his head and returned the dia ubh to the daypack, zipping it closed and locking the zipper with a small padlock. Behind it, his backpack glared at him.
“What?” Jay asked. Must be the sickness, he thought. Some confusion from the heat.
But he couldn’t shrug off the idea that lately his backpack never seemed to be quite where he’d left it. It didn’t seem as if anyone had rummaged through it or taken anything. But how else could it have been moved? And why did it seem like the pack was always staring at him? Ever since he and Jade had begun going out, the pack had become sullen, as if the habitat of a sack of nylon stuffed with smelly clothes had given rise to emotions.
Without knowing why, Jay patted the top. “You’ve always been there for me,” he said. “It’s like forever we’ve been on the road. You’ve always had my back. Literally, I suppose. I guess I haven’t been paying enough attention to you lately. There’s been a girl.”
The backpack stared, its sullenness slightly lessened but clearly still irritated.
“She’s special,” Jay continued. “She’s amazing. I keep thinking there could be something with her, something more, something… that lasts for a long time.”
He shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t know. There’s so little I know about her. She doesn’t talk about her past. She hardly talks about her time here. She works all the time, but she doesn’t talk about that either. She doesn’t have hobbies. She just works and makes occasional time to see me. I think she’s into it. Into us. She is. I’m sure. I just wish I could shake the feeling that she’s on holiday. What do I do when her vacation is over?”
The pack gave the slightest hint of a smile.
“I knew you’d understand,” Jay said.
Tiredness crept over him. Jay lay down on the bed and stared at the pack. “It’s been a long five years,” Jay said. “It’s nice to not feel lonely.”
His smile disappeared.
“I’m not saying you aren’t great company. It’s just, sometimes I need human company too.” Jay sighed. “Thing is, I finally get all this human company. Affection. Friendship. Then I get this itchiness again, like my soul and my feet won’t feel okay until you’re on my back and we’re wandering somewhere unknown. What is the world but a place full of friends you haven’t met yet? That was always so exciting. So many places just waiting to become memories. Maybe someone like me shouldn’t be in one place.”
The backpack grinned.
“Figured you’d like that,” Jay said. “We need to move on. Find the passport—we’re close, I know we’re close—and see what Jade wants to do. If she came with us, would that be okay with you?”
Jay waited, quiet, his breath ragged from all the talking.
The backpack just sat there.
“You’re going nuts, mate,” Jay said with a chuckle. “Talking to my backpack. I’ve gotta get out of here for a while.”
Tiredness lay over him like a heavy blanket, but Jay shrugged it off. He pulled the backpack to him. The fabric rubbed up and down his calf as he rummaged.
“Need a clean shirt,” Jay said. He pulled out random clothes, sniffed, then chucked each thing to the end of the bed. The small clothes pile rose like a little mountain.
He pulled out his last t-shirt, black as stout.
Yes! he thought. Perfect!
Jay reached into the pack again and pulled out a pair of tan khaki pants that looked only slightly dirty.
Dressing and then closing the pack, Jay went into the toilet to slap some water on his face and hair. “I think I’ve had enough of you for a while,” he said, staring at the hole in the floor. “I’m going for a pint. Don’t wait up.”
The backpack glared as he closed the door and headed downstairs.
It’s like walking into a different pub, Jay thought.
Empty tables, empty chairs. A few drinkers huddled over glasses and bottles, but the conversation was low, strained, and tense. The stage area was empty of musicians packed tightly in. Though it was weird to see the pub so lifeless, Jay also couldn’t help but feel relieved at how easy it was to walk around.
I’m hardly staying upright as it is, he thought. His weary feet and wobbly legs questioned his decision to be vertical.
Rucksack was at his table with a full pint of stout in front of him, but his jovial, welcoming smile had stayed home. Across from Rucksack, at an empty chair, sat another full pint.
“You can always find yourself in a pint of GPS,” Rucksack said, nodding approval at the text on Jay’s t-shirt. “But, Jay, can you keep one down? You look like hell, and I would know.”
“Tired of being in my room,” Jay replied. “It’s getting… weird up there.”
“I had a feeling you were going to have more gumption than sense,” Rucksack said as Jay fell into the chair.
“You haven’t been talking to your backpack for the last hour,” Jay said.
“Good conversation?”
“One-sided.” Jay looked at his pint. Would it stay down?
“Maybe you don’t know how to listen.”
“Come on, Rucksack,” Jay said. “Even for you, that’s strange.”
“Lot o’ weird things in this world, my lad.” Rucksack took a swallow of stout. “Such as how, while I wish you were still in your bed getting better, I’m glad you’re here.”
“What’s going on?”
“Two things. If you’re feeling good enough to start getting around, then at dawn I’d like us to take that boat ride.”
Jay nodded. “I’ll feel better. Good enough to stagger down there, anyway. Tired of being cooped up.” Jay smiled. “But there had better be some answers. No evasions or murky talk.”
“Whatever you want to know,” Rucksack replied. “If it’s in my power to tell you, I’ll tell you.”
Jay took a deep breath and picked up the pint. “What’s the second thing?”
“Kailash is gone.”
With the glass nearly to his lips, Jay stopped.
“She left Agamuskara this morning. So did Mim and Pim.” Rucksack reached into his pocket and slid two envelopes across the table. “These were tacked to the outside of the pub’s door last night. Jade gave them to me this morning.”
Jade. Jay picked up the envelopes and looked over his shoulder, to where Jade stood behind the bar. Instead of her usual blur of motion, she stood still and stared at a small sheet of paper.
I didn’t even say hello, Jay thought. What the hell am I doing?
After a small sip of stout, he waited. Oh, just feck it, he thought.
The next mouthful left the glass much emptier. For a palate that hadn’t tasted anything but tepid tea, cool rice, and hot stomach acid for two days, the beer poured through him like a spring bubbling up after a long drought. Stripped of the spices and flavors of India, his palate for the first time really tasted the stout. More importantly, his mind and soul opened up to the beer.
Rucksack always talks about stout as reality in a glass, as if it’s more real than the real world itself, Jay thought. For the first time, I understand.
With another swallow of stout, his world began making sense again.
What the hell am I still doing here? Jay thought. It’s time to be moving on. I’m a traveler. For me the world is either memory or anticipation. My world isn’t standing still. It isn’t routine. It isn’t the same places and faces over and over again, day after day after day. I need my passport, and it’s close, I can feel it. I need to know what’s going on with
Jade. And one way or another, I need to get out of this city.
“Jay?” Rucksack asked. “Are you okay? I ask o’ course out o’ interest for your good health, but also out o’ self-interest. I’d prefer to drink my stout, not wear yours, particularly after it’s traveled through you twice.”
It all makes sense now, Jay thought as the stout suffused him. I know what I need to do.
“I’m okay,” Jay said with a nod. “Just had to wonder for a minute there what was going to happen. This has been a brutal bit of food poisoning, but it’s clearing up quickly.”
Jay opened the envelopes and read the notes. “So,” he said, after laying aside the sheets of paper. “They’re terrified of this Smiling Fire thing and think it’s awakened.”
Rucksack nodded. “It’s after them. He nearly destroyed Mim and Pim. They got away, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try again.”
“They think that by leaving the city, he can’t get them, and that will slow him down or keep him from getting stronger.”
“Yes.” Rucksack’s face drew tighter and harder, like a bow ready to fire an arrow around the world.
“You’re worried about your mum,” Jay said. The men drank more beer.
“For the longest time, we thought each other dead. We find each other here,” Rucksack said. “And get torn apart again by this damn thing. The trouble with being me is there’s always trouble. Keeps me from getting a lot done.”
“She must be worried too. For you. For the world. No wonder she didn’t tell you where they were going.”
“If she doesn’t want to be found,” Rucksack said, “I won’t be able to find her.”
“It must have weighed on her pretty badly,” Jay said. “She even looked older these last few days. With Mim and Pim gone too, how are we going to find my passport?”
Rucksack drained his pint. “I suppose so,” he said, standing up. “I’d best be off. I need to get my thoughts in order.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Rest up, Jay.” Rucksack nodded to the bar. “And for heaven’s sake, if you’re going to make such a big deal o’ being with her, at least say good night before you go back to your room.”
Heat bloomed on Jay’s cheeks as Rucksack left.
Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel) Page 24