Ticket to India

by N. H. Senzai

  Purchase? Maya’s stomach churned as she remembered the sad-eyed girl from the morning, gulping down water, face twisted in pain.

  “Cripples are cheap,” said Boss with a shrug.

  “We should get some more,” said Babu.

  “I will think on it,” Boss said, fingering the thick gold chain around his neck. “The plastic business is getting too competitive. Any loser with a few thousand rupees is opening up a processing outfit.”

  “But we collected double the amount of plastic from the docks,” said Babu. “It will bring in good money.”

  Boss slipped off his glasses, eyes narrowed. “Are you the boss now?” he asked in a cold, slippery voice. “Making business decisions?”

  Babu shrank back. “No, Boss, no . . .”

  Boss broke out into a grin. “Good. Remember that I picked you up from the gutter. You can end up back there as quickly as you came.”

  “Forgive me, Boss,” whispered Babu.

  “No matter.” Boss waved his hand. “I need to focus on our new line of business—the steel magnate’s son from Calcutta worked out brilliantly last time; the family ransomed him handsomely.” Babu puffed out his chest, looking pleased with himself. “That’s why I asked you to pick her up after you called—I’m hoping we get a good amount for her.”

  “I left you a message that she’s here,” said Babu.

  “Yes, yes, I got it, but I was busy,” he said, lips tightening. “Are you sure she’s not a local? We don’t want her family coming down the road looking for us if something goes wrong with the deal.”

  “I’m one hundred percent sure, Boss,” said Babu, vigorously shaking his head. “Like I told you, Jai spotted her at the train station buying a ticket—she was alone.”

  Maya shrank away from the window, her heart beating wildly. They’re talking about me. And then it struck. Jai had lied to them. He’d told them she was alone.

  • • •

  Fifteen minutes later, after another trip to the bathroom, Maya was thrust into a soft leather chair in a room painted the color of lilacs, with framed, autographed movie posters hanging in a straight line on the wall. Boss sat across from her, a shiny desk between them.

  “Why does she look so sickly . . . and smell?” he said, wrinkling his nose.

  “She got sick after eating some of the kids’ lentil stew,” snickered Babu. “She’s been running to the bathroom all day.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” said Boss. “Get her some of my bottled water I keep in the fridge. We can’t have her becoming dehydrated.”

  “Yes, Boss,” said Pinto, running out.

  “Welcome, welcome,” he said, turning to Maya, revealing straight white teeth.

  Maya shivered, tongue-tied, staring in horrified fascination at how the colors of his shiny silk shirt shifted from blue to green.

  “Do you like my shirt?” he preened. Not waiting for a response, he added, “It’s just like the one Amir Khan wore in his last movie—Mumbai Nights. A fantastic film—incredible songs and dance numbers.”

  “He looked most excellent in that movie,” agreed Babu.

  As they recalled scenes from the film, Maya surreptitiously surveyed the room; like her cell, this room had a window facing into the warehouse, protected by iron bars. There was no exit to the outside or even a window.

  “So, tell me—what’s your name?” asked Boss, leaning across the desk, fingers folded.

  Maya took a sip of the water Pinto had handed her, staring at Boss like a mouse cornered by a toothy cat. In the blink of an eye, Babu lunged and twisted back her arm, ripping the seams of her shirt. As pain flared through her shoulder, she yelped.

  “I don’t think that is necessary,” tsked Boss. “One can gain more with honey than vinegar. Pinto, how about you go to my car and bring out the box of sweets from the backseat. And get me some tea.” Pinto left.

  “Now,” said Boss, turning back to Maya. “What’s your name?”

  “Maya,” she mumbled, pulling together the edges of her rent shirt.

  “Well, Maya.” He enunciated the M with pursed lips. “How did you come to be at the train station?”

  “I was on my way to . . . to Jaipur,” she lied.

  Boss snapped his fingers and Babu brought over her backpack, dumping its innards onto the desk. Out flew damp clothes, followed by the guidebook and her journal. He unzipped the front pocket and shook again. Slips of paper flew out, along with a flash of dull silver, which fell to the floor. Maya’s heart froze, but Boss’s eyes were focused on what fell out next: a dark blue rectangle and the hundred-dollar bill. Quickly, she put her foot on the iron key to her grandmother’s house, hiding it under her shoe.

  His eyes widened as he grabbed the passport. “You’re an American?” he asked.

  Maya jerked her head in response, panicked. . . . Where is Zara’s passport? Then she remembered. She’d handed it to her when Zara needed identification to buy the tickets. Momentarily filled with relief, she saw Pinto enter with a big box of sweets.

  Conflicting emotions flitted across Boss’s face: glee, uncertainty, then a hint of worry. He grabbed a piece of sweetmeat and shoved it in his mouth. Bright orange crumbs fell on his shirt, leaving an oily stain. “Who were you traveling with?” he asked between chews as he separated the wallet and passport while shoving the clothes, guidebook, and journal back into the backpack.

  “My sister and my father,” she said.

  “Where is this sister and father of yours?” he asked, midchew.

  “They were at the train station with me,” she said with false bravado. She needed to say something to make them let her go. “They’re looking for me now.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Babu and motioned him to go. A minute later he returned, Jai in tow. Maya’s stomach sank. She’d forgotten that he’d seen her with Zara and no one else.

  “You found this girl?” he asked Jai, who stood beside the desk, hands clenched, shivering.

  “Yes, Boss,” he whispered.

  “Tell me exactly what you saw.”

  “I saw her come off the Jaipur train,” he said, tone hushed. “I noticed that she was wearing jeans, but not the cheap kind Babu and Ladu wear. And her tennis shoes—they’re the real thing. So I thought she was a foreigner, so I followed her to the ticket booth. She talked like the television show . . . the one with the big houses in California. Then I saw the American money fall from her bag.”

  “And there was no one with her?” prodded Boss. “Another girl? A man?”

  Jai paused, face serious as if he was thinking. “No one, Boss. Just her,” he finally replied with a lie, his face blank.

  Boss’s full lips tightened. Quick as a cobra, he reached across the desk and slapped Maya across the face. The stinging pain bloomed along her cheek, accompanied by ringing in her ears.

  “Do not lie to me again,” he said, sitting back as Jai’s face blanched. Boss offered the box of sweets to him and he took a piece of almond fudge with shaking fingers. “Excellent work, my boy. I see a good future for you here.”

  Tears slid down Maya’s burning cheeks as her stomach cramped again.

  The man stared down at her passport and read out her name, age, hair, and eye color. On the next page, under emergency contact information, was her address in California and the phone number. “Now, who will answer if I call this number?”

  “My father,” said Maya, throat tight.

  “Babu, this is quite an interesting situation,” said Boss. “A runaway from America . . . one that could net us quite a bounty.”

  Babu nodded, looking pleased.

  “I need to go to the bathroom . . . ,” Maya croaked. “I feel sick. . . .”

  “Take her to the bathroom and give her more water and some aspirin tablets. We can’t have her getting sick,” said Boss, wrinkling his nose. “Then lock
her up. I have a lot of thinking to do.” He tossed Pinto the backpack.

  “Please . . . I need a shirt,” said Maya, eyeing the backpack.

  “Give it to her,” said Boss, dismissing them.

  As Maya exited, his voice rang out behind her. “Remember . . . Agra is my kingdom and I am like a spider—its web reaching everywhere. So don’t think you will escape.”

  • • •

  Cheek throbbing, Maya lay curled up, hugging her backpack and clutching the key she’d snatched as she’d left Boss’s office. Dad’s going to have a heart attack when Boss calls him. Wondering how she’d ended up in this nightmare, she sat up, shaking uncontrollably. Calm down, she told herself.

  Monday, September 19

  Agra, India

  The boys found me. They caught me and brought me back to their boss. . . . Now I know why they were after me so bad. . . . They didn’t want the measly hundred-dollar bills. . . . they wanted me . . . a stupid American worth a ton more in ransom . . .

  Maya stared at the stark words and oddly thought of Mrs. Hackworth. What would her teacher think if she read this? Would she even get a chance to read this? The reality of what was happening started sinking in and an image of her sister flashed in her mind, accompanied by an acute feeling of loss.

  I wish Zara were here—she would know what to do. Even if she didn’t, I know she wouldn’t go down without a fight. And Naniamma . . . she never lets anything push her down. She survived the train ride to Pakistan . . . survived being an orphan . . . met the man she loved and started a family. And me?

  Maya paused. What about me? She’d talked her way into coming to India, navigated through Delhi, escaped the thugs in Agra, and hidden in the Taj Mahal.

  I am Maya. Maya the mother of Hermes and Buddha. I am Durga, the invincible one—the power behind the creation, protection, and destruction of the world. I am a pea.

  Like an electric current, purpose raced through her as Maya put down the journal to pace the room. She paused at the window, watching the kids finish up for the day, organizing supplies and oiling the machines. Guddi and Jai stood beside the open door, whispering and casting glances toward her room. Anger built up in her chest like a volcano. If it hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t be here. She glanced away from them, spotting a plume of dust approaching the gates. A jeep pulled in beside Boss’s car and out stepped a familiar khaki uniform. A tall man hurried up the steps, cap covering gray hair, pistol strapped to his side. It was a police officer!

  15

  Bathroom Follies

  MAYA WATCHED THE POLICEMAN enter the warehouse through the main doors, swinging his baton. As he passed, the kids shrank aside, disappearing into the shadows.

  “Help!” shouted Maya, pressing her face against the bars.

  Guddi’s head popped up from along the path, but before she could say anything, Jai clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her behind a sack of trash.

  “Please help me,” repeated Maya, wondering if he hadn’t heard her.

  The policeman glanced toward her cell with a frown as he neared.

  “I’ve been kidnapped!” added Maya.

  The door of Boss’s office burst open and he strode out. “Quiet, girl,” he ordered, giving her an irritated look.

  “Please . . . ,” begged Maya. “I need help. . . . That man is holding me for ransom!”

  “Wow, you’ve got a feisty one this time,” said the officer with a chuckle.

  Maya’s heart sank to her knees as confusion ­muddled her thoughts. What?

  “This one is unique,” said Boss, rubbing his hands together. “She’s an American!”

  “An American?” said the officer with a low whistle. “I don’t know about that. . . . It could bring some serious heat on us. Kidnapping foreigners can prove very troublesome.”

  Maya stared at the officer, a sick feeling spreading through her stomach. He was one of them!

  “I have it under control,” said Boss, hands on his hips. “The silly girl was traveling alone—how stupid is that? I’ll call her father tomorrow, once I get a few things sorted out. I need your help, like last time, since we’ll need a bank account where the money will be wired. With your smarts and connections, it’ll be a breeze,” he added, buttering him up.

  Maya felt like she was going to throw up.

  “Once we get the money, we’ll drug her like the last kid,” continued Boss. “She won’t remember much of anything and we’ll dump her at the hospital so her family can pick her up.”

  “We’re going to have to change hospitals and bribe another hospital director,” grumbled the policeman. “That money-grubbing woman from the last one was complaining that she wanted more for the risk she was taking.”

  Drugs? thought Maya. What kind of drugs?

  “Don’t worry,” Boss soothed. “Now, come into my office—I have your cut from last month’s operations. Revenue’s up twenty-five percent. I’m sure that will ease your wallet, since your daughter is getting ­married in a few months. I hear that grooms’ families are getting greedier and greedier about dowry these days.”

  “You’re right about that.” The officer sighed. “The boy’s father has been sniffing around, asking for a car and more cash—can you believe it?”

  “What a crook,” said Boss.

  “And I’ve got another daughter to marry off,” complained the officer.

  “Well, the money we get from this girl will cover the entire wedding,” said Boss.

  “You’re right about that,” said the police officer.

  “Pinto!” yelled Boss, heading toward his office with a chuckle. “Get us some tea!”

  “You’ve really expanded the business after taking over from your father,” said the officer, looking around the warehouse as he followed.

  “We’re moving into the big leagues now,” said Boss with a smile.

  As the duo entered Boss’s office, Maya slithered down the wall and slumped on the floor. She spotted the journal. Don’t give up, it seemed to say. Find a way out. Angrily, she pushed away her empty tin cup, traces of lentils clinging to the rim. Lentils that had gotten her sick. She grimaced, eyeing the bent spoon beside the cup. Then she grabbed it, testing the sharp end. A ray of hope pierced her heart. At the top of her lungs, she yelled to Babu to take her to the bathroom, making sure Boss heard her. He’d make the boys listen to her request. They had to take care of her—she was worth a lot of money to them.

  • • •

  Maya sat back and glanced at her watch. It was nearly three a.m.—another three hours before dawn exposed her plans. There! After hours of digging, it finally came loose: a large, heavy chunk of red brick. It’s now or never, she thought, staring down at the rows of bodies through the bars. Around ten o’clock, the younger ones had set up their beds and fallen into an exhausted sleep. Babu and the older boys had stayed up, drinking soda and playing cards. Finally they’d wandered into their room on the other side of Boss’s office and collapsed on low wooden beds.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” she shouted. This was the fifth time that night she had made one of the boys take her, even though she didn’t need to go.

  A few of the children stirred, but not one answered.

  “Hey,” she repeated, clanging the bars with the tin cup. “I have to GO!”

  “Shut up!” came Babu’s sleepy voice.

  “I have to go . . . now.”

  “Go ahead,” bellowed Babu.

  “I don’t think Boss would be happy about that,” shouted Maya.

  “Pinto,” growled Babu. “Take her to the latrine.”

  “Make Jai, the brilliant mastermind, do it,” came his groggy response.

  “Jai!” shouted Babu. “The girl needs to use the latrine.”

  Jai shot up from the floor, a ghostly shape shrouded in a tattered quilt. “Yes, Ma
ster Babu,” he mumbled, still half-asleep as a metal key flew out the door of the room where the boys were sleeping, and landed at his feet.

  “Give her a bucket. She can tatti all she wants,” came a muffled snort.

  Maya’s cheeks reddened as Jai stumbled around the shadowy warehouse, finally appearing with a blue plastic bucket. Maya stood on the other side of the door, trembling, holding the brick in her hand. The lock clicked open and the little boy entered, bucket held out in front of him. Maya raised the brick high, aiming for the back of his head.

  Jai entered slowly. “I’m really sorry all this happened to you,” he whispered in a sorrowful voice.

  Maya’s hand shook. She felt terrible, but she had no choice. She’d expected Pinto to take her, but it was Jai, and she had to take advantage of the opportunity.

  “I just wanted to get your money . . . so I could take care of my sister,” he whispered, placing the bucket on the floor. “I didn’t know they would kidnap you.”

  Maya looked down at his tiny body in the shadowy light. I can’t . . . I can’t hurt him.

  Jai turned and saw the brick. His eyes widened, then squeezed shut. “Do it,” he whispered. “Do it good so they believe you caught me by surprise.”

  Maya slumped against the wall. “I can’t,” she muttered, arm falling to her side.

  They stared at each other. “I have an idea,” he whispered.

  • • •

  A few minutes later, Maya tiptoed from the room toward Boss’s office, backpack slung over her shoulder.

  “They’re definitely asleep,” whispered Jai, right behind her. He angled his head toward the boys’ room, from where a symphony of snores percolated.

  She stopped, catching sight of her passport and the money lying on Boss’s desk through the window, guarded by bars. “He always locks it when he leaves,” Jai whispered, pushing down on the handle.

  A loud creak sounded from the boys’ room, and they dove behind a bin of metal parts, waiting for one of the teenagers to come stumbling out. After a few minutes of silence, Jai grabbed her hand and led her toward the row of sleeping kids near the machines. Gently, he woke Guddi. Obediently, she sat up, gingerly disentangling herself from Mini, who’d been clutching her arm. The little girl whimpered, snuggling deeper into the warmth Guddi had vacated. As she put on her precious jean jacket, which she’d been using as a pillow, Jai looked down at the line of little kids, a deep frown tugging his lips. Maya followed his gaze, and for a moment uncertainty flooded her.