How much dirt had piled up over me? How many tons of mud? Would they find me in time? The mere thought sent my pulse racing in panic. I pushed away the fear to the deepest confines of my mind, refusing to let it rule what was left of my life.
I moved my head slightly to avoid the dripping mud. It was getting warm in the black hole, and I felt tired and sleepy, but I had to stay awake to signal my presence when the need would arise. I pounded on the plank beside me, but it didn't make enough noise and just dislodged more mud through the cracks. Groping for a tool, my hand fell upon an object the size of a teapot. I seized it and almost let it go. It was hot to the touch, light, with a smooth texture. Painted wood. Hard wood. Making out the shape with my hands, I recognized the many arms of the statue of Kali.
"Sorry, Kali, I need your help," I apologized before slamming the statuette against the plank. The sound reverberated somewhat. I knocked the plank repeatedly then waited... Nothing happened. No voice, no digging sound, no hope reached my earthly grave. I lost sense of time. Sweat rolled down the side of my temples, from heat, humidity, or fear, I couldn't tell. Or was it tears?
After a while, I hit the plank again. As before I waited, and as before my call remained unanswered. How deep was I buried? How long could I survive with the limited air supply?
Swamiji's words echoed in my mind. "Death is scary only when you believe in its finality." If Jean-François' spirit had survived the ordeal, mine could do it too. Cuddling the small statue of Kali on my chest, I closed my eyes. Somehow it made the darkness feel less dreadful. Concentrating, I slowed my breathing to a minimum, as in meditation. "God, if you hear me, grant me a last wish. I'm not afraid to die. Take my life now, and in exchange give Mukunda the happiness I know he deserves."
My head reeled. I felt myself falling into a bottomless pit. An enormous Kali, like a black spider, cradled me gently in her many arms, and I let her take me away from the hopeless hole where I lay. Clear images from a long forgotten life surged unbidden.
"Lakshmi!"
I turned around at my name, causing the little monkey on my shoulder to screech in alarm. "Sorry, Babu. Behave, Princess Korana is coming."
Another child came down the steps of the laundry ghat where my mother washed clothes in the river. Along the child's path, women bowed respectfully. The Rajah's young daughter wore a pink sari billowing in the balmy breeze. Behind her, the high walls of the golden palace jealously kept the wealth of the Maharajah inside while shielding his family from the surrounding jungle. On the riverside, however, apertures at many levels of the stone palace opened on the wide marble steps leading down to the main source of life and purification, the holy NarmadaRiver.
"I want your monkey!" The honey-skinned little girl in luxurious silks stood over me, expecting to be obeyed.
"Go ahead, if he wants to play with you." I lifted Babu from my shoulder and handed him to the princess, but the monkey hissed and screamed in defiance, returning to my shoulder no matter what I did.
Around us, the dobi-wallahs in bright saris had stopped beating the wet clothes on the ghat and watched the exchange with curiosity. From the nearby jungle teeming with wild life, birdsongs and the braying of elephants punctuated the breezy morning.
"Tell your monkey to be nice to me." Korana's tone suffered no contradiction. "I'm a princess. He must obey."
"Monkeys only do what they please," I dared object. "Why don't you play with your own?"
"They didn't like me either." Princess Korana pouted. "I took them to the kitchen. Last night we ate their brains while they were still alive. Now I want to play with this one. If he doesn't behave, I'll give him to the cook-wallah." Korana forcibly grabbed the monkey then carried away the screaming and gesticulating animal.
I wanted to yell and run after them to save my little companion from becoming dinner, but my mother's staying hand stopped me. So, I watched them go, quiet desperation wrenching my heart.
"It's not fair," I exploded after Korana was gone, tears welling in my eyes, throat constricted. "Babu didn't know."
My mother's lovely hazel eyes gazed upon me with compassion from under the veil of her jade sari. "I know, child, but that's the way it is. Although you both sucked my breast, your foster sister belongs to the ruling caste, and you don't. You cannot change that anymore than you can change a tiger's stripes."
"But, why is she so mean?" If I had to accept it, I wanted at least to understand.
"I don't know, my sweet butterball." Mother dried my tears with the loose end of my yellow sari. "The astrologers called her 'seething pool' for a reason. Must be her karma."
"Will she ever change?" I didn't relish a lifetime bond under the rule of such a hateful foster sister.
"Who knows..." Mother looked down sadly. "She might in time, but not in this life, I'm afraid. The odds are against her."
An idea crossed my mind with startling clarity. "Maybe I could help her change!"
"It takes a lot of devotion and self sacrifice to change a person, child." The lovely eyes looked away. "It's a thankless job. Believe me..."
I straightened and declared solemnly, "But I could try. From this moment on, I vow to dedicate my existence and my future lives for as long as it takes to turning Korana's karma.”
"I wish you wouldn't." My mother looked at me sadly, then returned to beating the wet clothes against the stone steps at the edge of the water. The familiar sound resonated in my mind like a beacon of hope.
The hammering sound echoed and vibrated through the wood of the plank my head rested against. Soaked in sweat and gasping for air, I listened to the dull thump, thump, thump, for a while. Then the beating stopped. My eyes opened into blackness. As the fuzziness lifted off my mind, I remembered where I was. The noise had come from the surface. Rescuers!
If I could hear them, hopefully they could hear me too. Grasping the statuette in sweaty hands, I started hitting the board with renewed strength.
*****
Grief-stricken, Mukunda sat on the damp mud, head in his hands, barely aware of his surroundings. The muffled stomping of some animal echoed dully through the soggy ground... He listened to the faint vibration for a while. It had a regular pattern: three in brief succession, three at longer intervals, three in brief succession, a short pause, then three brief thumps again, and so on.
Suddenly Mukunda sprung up. "Amit, listen to this! Can you hear it?"
The young man emerged from behind a tree into the beam of the flashlight and listened intently. "Yes, Sahib. I am hearing it."
"It's Morse code for S.O.S. Where is it coming from?"
Quietly, to avoid losing track of the faint signal, Mukunda circled the area, listening, feeling the ground for the slight vibration in an attempt to locate the source. Here it seemed fainter, there stronger, there fainter again. Soon, with Amit's help, Mukunda had narrowed the sound to a rough circle, ten yards in diameter.
He looked at the line of trees cutting through the circle. "Our best bet is to dig at the foot of these trees. They would have stopped any large object carried down by the slide."
"With our bare hands, Sahib?"
"I may have a few tools in the Mahindra. Go get them while I start with this branch."
Amit darted downhill while Mukunda seized the branch and approached the line of small trees. He laid his hands on the bark to feel the strength of the vibration, but it stopped altogether.
"Fabienne, don't stop now. Come on, keep it up." He struck the nearest tree with the branch several times in a strong staccato to give her courage. To his delight, the S.O.S. started again.
Two trees, in the center of the imaginary circle, reverberated the call more strongly than the others. Hanging the flashlight on a low branch, Mukunda immediately started digging the soft ground on the uphill side of the trees. Using the sharp end of his stick as well as hands and nails, he dislodged rocks and threw the dirt downhill. The reassuring tapping told him Fabienne was still alive, and it gave him strength.
Amit retur
ned with a hatchet, an extra flashlight, bottled water, and the round metal tray from yesterday's lunch. He dropped the tools in front of Mukunda.
"Great," Mukunda cheered. "Let's bend the tray and make some kind of scoop."
Together they struggled to bend the wide metal tray in an arc. With the hatchet, Mukunda sharpened the branch and made a stave. Using the rudimentary shovel, hatchet, stick, and bare hands, both men dug as fast as they could. Soon, they had a trench two feet deep and one foot wide across the two yards separating the central trees. The tapping sounded much closer, but suddenly, it stopped again.
"Fabienne, hold on! Please God, don't let her die now." Mukunda sped up the digging. At three feet, the tray hit something hard with a hollow sound: wood. "Help me here, Amit."
The two men cleaned the dirt around the length of a broken plank and, joining their strength, lifted it off the mud where it stuck.
"Here, I see something. Amit, give me a hand."
"Sahib, I am seeing it too."
A splintered board stuck upright, probably from a hollow space. While Amit cleared the mud around the spiky plank, Mukunda braced himself, and in a supreme effort pulled it off. Mud crumbled from the sides of the uneven trench into a small hole. The stench of rot and decomposition escaping from the hollow space did not bode well. The full moon pierced the clouds, bathing the scene in a pearly light.
"Fabienne, are you in there? Can you hear me?"
Now tearing at the sides of the small aperture, Mukunda and Amit worked feverishly. They stopped as something slithered in the light beam. A huge black spider!
"Are Bapre!" Amit jumped back.
Reaching for the flashlight hanging above, Mukunda shone it inside the aperture. "I'll be damned!" He reached down for a spider as big as his hand and tossed it to Amit. "Catch!"
Amit jerked away, then realizing his mistake, picked up the statuette of Kali with deference and set it on a mound of dirt to the side. "Is Memsahib in there? Is she all right?"
Peering into the small hole, Mukunda could barely make out the shape of a body in the muddy recess. "I can see one hand for sure." He reached for it, searching for a pulse. "She's alive!"
"Kali be praised." Amit bowed to the statuette.
"Her head should be here, and her feet that way, at an angle. Dig out the feet, I'll take the head."
Immediately, Amit started scooping out dirt to widen the trench and get to the legs, clearing a space the length of the buried body.
Slowly, careful not to injure Fabienne further, Mukunda dug and lifted the planks, clearing the debris above Fabienne's head. Soon, his flashlight shone in her muddy face down below. "Sweet Jesus. Fabienne, can you hear me?"
To his dismay, she didn't react to the light or the sound of his voice. Eyes closed, she still breathed but didn't respond.
When Mukunda dripped water from the canteen between her lips, Fabienne swallowed but didn't open her eyes.
"Sahib, I am needing help. There's something hard and heavy on top of the legs."
"What is it?"
"I'm not sure, Sahib... It looks like stone."
"Jesus!"
Mukunda and Amit worked at clearing the stone slab to its edges to lift it up, but the size and sheer weight of it were too much for two men.
"Let's dig underneath instead of lifting it."
Tunneling carefully, they extracted the soft mud under Fabienne's legs, freeing her completely. The stone slab had saved her life by wedging itself against a tree trunk, stopping other debris, and creating a hollow space for her to breathe.
Assessing the external damage, Mukunda sighed with relief. No missing limbs, no open fractures, only scrapes and bruises as far as he could tell, and perhaps oxygen deprivation. Should she be moved? What if she had spinal cord damage? It would take many hours, maybe days to get competent help. What if she had internal bleeding and needed care right away? There was no time. Besides, the area might flood soon. He had to move her now.
"God almighty," he prayed, tears coming to his eyes. "Let me be her savior, not her murderer." As delicately as he could, Mukunda lifted Fabienne's limp body in his arms and carried her down the slope toward the Mahindra Jeep. Amit, in tow, carried the gear.
When he reached the car, Mukunda deposited his precious charge on the back seat, dug into a pocket, tossed the keys to Amit and sat in the back, supporting Fabienne's upper body in his arms. God, she was lovely, even in that filthy state. "Hang on, my love, we'll get you to safety," he whispered softly as the ignition caught and the headlights swept the deserted road.
Fabienne stirred a little. The faintest of smiles brushed her lips, and her muddy hand came to rest on Mukunda's arm.
Overcome with joy at the new hope that Fabienne would be all right, Mukunda gave her a gentle squeeze and nuzzled her neck. "I love you," he whispered, astonished and thrilled at his daring statement. Stunned by the revelation of his own feelings, he stared at the beloved face in awe, then lightly kissed her temple, as one would a newborn child.
Because of swollen rivers and collapsed bridges, the long trek home took them near the defective causeway. In the headlights as Amit drove by, Mukunda mentally checked the hasty reinforcement work. Already, cracks had appeared and oozed water behind the heavy steel beams. The causeway was about to give.
"Go like hell, Amit, she's going to blow!"
"Acha!" With a maniacal smile, Amit floored the pedal and sent the Jeep into a wild race, bouncing its occupants down the uneven path.
When Mukunda looked behind in the receding distance, moonlight still lit the levee protecting the depression they rode through. A thunderous clap, followed by loud sinister cracking, resonated through the night.
"Here she goes! Amit, get us out of here, fast!"
As the Jeep sped up, Mukunda stared at the concrete cracking in long zigzagging lines, water gushing out through the cracks, metal beams bending under the formidable pressure. An ear-splitting noise signaled the end of the last resistance from the doomed causeway. Mukunda recognized the unmistakable sound of rushing water destroying everything in its wake.
A solid wall of angry water now unfurled ever closer behind the Jeep at lightning speed. Soon the trail would swerve uphill out of the valley, but it might be too late.
"Cut through the mountain, Amit, or we won't make it!"
"Acha, Sahib!"
The jeep made a sharp right turn off the road and up the rocky hillside. Within a matter of minutes, the valley below became a churning torrent of rushing debris.
"Jesus Lord Almighty! Thank God we got away." Upon reaching the top of the hill, Mukunda could barely make out, on the other side, the timid lights of Ganeshpur, miles ahead. "Can you find your way through, Amit?"
"Acha! I was being raised in these parts."
Half an hour later, at home, Mukunda deposited Fabienne on his bed, then sent Amit to fetch Doctor Naveen Patel. The rain started again.
Chapter Twenty
Surrender
I awoke once while Mukunda held me securely against his chest, whispering his love in my ear. Unwilling to break the spell, I closed my eyes again, delighting in his scent, allowing the purring of the Jeep to lull me back to sleep. I opened my eyes the second time in the middle of a nightmare, among thunderclaps and rumbling waters, in a frantic ride through the mountainside. Now I rested peacefully on something fluffy. I smelled incense and aftershave. The sound and vibration of the ride had vanished, replaced by melodious raga music on a background of rain. A lazy fan whooshed overhead. Someone held my hand.
I blinked at the blinding light. Immediately, the lights dimmed to the fluttering glow of a single candle illuminating the statuette of Kali on the rattan nightstand. I squeezed the hand holding mine in thanks.
"Welcome back, Fabienne. How are you feeling?" In the soft candlelight, Mukunda's light blue eyes looked at me intensely. Blond hair fell over a worried brow.
I smiled and tried to talk but only croaked.
Mukunda reached for a cup on the
nightstand. "Here, drink some tea, that should help."
Supported by his strong arms, I let Mukunda hold the cup to my lips and sipped the lukewarm tea through parched lips.
"Better?" A timid smile curved the corners of his lips.
I nodded and smiled back, enjoying his ministrations.
"Can you talk now? Are you all right?" How I loved the slight strain in his voice, the concern in his eyes.
"I think I'm okay." My voice grated a little. I stretched to feel my limbs. “Just a little sore.”
"Nothing broken? No headache, stomach cramps?" Mukunda's forehead creased slightly.
"No, really, I'll be fine." I looked around and smiled. We were alone.
"Doctor Patel is on his way to make sure." Relief flooded Mukunda's face, and his shoulders relaxed. "Jesus, Woman, you gave me such a fright. For a moment there, I thought I'd lost you..."
I held his steady gaze. "Did it make you sad?"
"Sad?" Mukunda chortled. "It drove me crazy." He brushed a lock off his forehead then stared at me, taking my hand in both of his. "Fabienne, it would be difficult for me to live in a world without you."
I felt warm all over and smiled. "What do you mean?"
Mukunda looked away. "You know what I mean..."
"Yes, I think I do." I squeezed his hands. I wanted to say I loved him, too. I wanted to rest my head on his chest and listen to the rhythm of his heart, but it wouldn't be right... But what if God had sent me back from the dead just for him? "So, it worked after all," I whispered.
"What are you talking about?" A puzzled frown creased Mukunda's face.
"Down in the hole, when I thought I might die," I explained, pondering how much to tell him, "I offered a bargain to God, but he didn't take it. At least I thought he didn't. Now I'm not so sure."
"What kind of bargain?" Mukunda's alarm was endearing.
I laughed, unwilling to tell him I had laid down my life in exchange for his happiness. "Never mind..."
Ashes for the Elephant God Page 18