by Leena Clover
“Now for some immediate relief,” Tony said as his stomach rumbled.
We all burst out laughing.
“Let's go to Mazzio's for some double cheese pizza. My treat!” Dad offered magnanimously, and we all trooped out.
Chapter 16
The next day was Thursday and I decided to go in early and take a large lunch break. I had thought about a way to find out where Jyothi lived. I rushed through my morning tasks in the library and headed out at a clip. Tony was busy and he had reluctantly conceded a solo fact finding trip for me just this one time.
I got into the car and sped up to Main Street, heading toward downtown. I pulled in front of the city offices. Last night, we had been lounging in front of the TV when some old mail had caught my eye. If Jyothi Sudhakaran had an apartment, surely she would have some utilities registered. Who could live without gas or electricity?
I entered the City offices and got in line. Lunch hour was everyone's favorite time to come pay bills or sort out any sundry grievances with their utilities. As my stomach roared, I mentally cursed myself for not realizing it. The line moved forward at a snail's pace and I yawned. The man in front of me had a serious BO issue, and I tried not to sniff openly. Two middle aged ladies were swapping stories about their truant offspring, going 'UnnnHunnnnnn" one by one. Their volumes were getting progressively higher and their indignation was clear on their faces.
“Next!” shouted the clerk from behind a tall desk and this colorful conversation broke up.
Finally, it was my turn. The young girl looked up and I recognized an old friend from high school.
“Blue! How are you? I had no idea you worked here!” I said.
“Blue stood up, came around the desk and hugged me. Or rather, her beach ball like stomach hugged me. I looked down and asked the expected question.
“When is it due? Is this your first?”
“First week of January,” she beamed proudly. “And hell no! This here is my third baby. Where have you bin, girl?”
“You know, around!” I shrugged.
“Well yeah, but you college types move in different circles, don't ya?” Blue kidded with me. “I got this job two months after high school graduation. It’s pretty easy going most of the time. And I've got benefits. Helps with the little ones, ya know.”
She pointed toward her large belly. We caught up with some of the old class members, some stellar, some not so stellar. Then we finally got down to the business on hand.
“So what brings you here, Meera? Have you got a place of your own?”
Blue knew I lived with my family.
“Not likely. I’m living on our new ranch over on the west side of town. I’m trying to find some info about someone else.”
“What kinda info?”
“Well, there's a new girl from India. She hasn't been seen in a bit. I am trying to track down her address. I wondered if she had any gas or light on her name.”
Blue frowned and leaned over. “You know I can't give out customer information, Meera. It's against the rules. Breaks their privacy or somethin'.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What's private in this two horse town, I ask ya?”
I seemed to have hit a dead end.
“I really need to know where the girl lives, Blue. So I can make sure she’s alright.”
Was I fibbing when I said that?
Blue closed her eyes and thought a moment.
“God help me if I lose my job over this. Let me have the name and I'll see what I can do.”
“Jyothi Sudhakaran. J as in joy, Y as in Yosemite, O as in orange ...”
I spelled out the entire name for Blue's benefit. She got it right after hitting backspace a few times. A bead of sweat appeared on Blue's forehead and trickled down to a side. Was I being mean stressing out a pregnant woman? Suddenly, she released a big breath and sighed. Then she smiled.
“No such record,” she said, happy that she hadn't actually broken any laws.
“What does that mean?”
I had a sinking feeling but I asked anyway.
“It means she does not have light or gas in her name, simple.”
“Is that even possible? Does that mean she doesn't have an apartment?” I prodded Blue.
“See. It's like this. If a group of students share one apartment, only the first person who moves in signs up for the utilities. So this just means she moved into a place where someone was already living.”
She thought a moment more.
“Wait a minute. Or …”
She held up a finger in the air, gathering her thoughts again. Blue was helpful and fun, but not very bright, I was thinking. Then I mentally slapped myself for being ungrateful.
“Sometimes they split it. One signs up for gas, one signs up for electricity, one signs up for the phone line - you see what I mean?” she looked at me inquiringly.
“Yeah … I guess.”
I had to admit I had reached another dead end, at least as far as the City offices were concerned. We said goodbyes, and I promised to attend her baby shower which was secretly planned for sometime in December.
Outside, the sun was shining bright in a clear blue sky. White cotton candy clouds were scattered across here and there. Lunch was going to be rushed again. After gorging on pizza last night, I had a hankering for a simple salad. I grabbed a pre-packed salad from a small cafe in the downtown area and got in my car. I made my way to meet Tony, eager to spill all the information I had got.
Five stop lights and 12 minutes later, I pulled into the gas station lot. The lunch hour had attracted the hot dog lovers, and those who wanted to fill up on coffee and soda. I cracked open the driver's side door, stepped out and leaned against the car door. I tore off the plastic lid for the salad and poured some Newman's Ranch dressing all over it. Spearing my fork deep to get a piece of chicken, a cherry tomato, some cheese and lettuce in a single bite, I thought over what I had found out. It was safe to say that the girl Jyothi had not applied for any utilities. I trusted Blue that much. Did that mean she spent all those weeks in that cleaning closet, I wondered again.
“Hey Meera. What's up?”
Tony walked out and I brightened up. “It's like this. I went over to the downtown area and to the City offices. There were the two women in line who were dissing their kids like ...”
“The short version, please!” Tony urged me.
I mock punched him and gave him the Cliff Notes version.
“Hmmm…” He was quiet for a minute.
“So what now?” I wanted to know.
“Well, you searched for gas/ electricity. What about the phone? You have your answer right there.”
“Okay, I gotta go now.”
I dumped the empty salad bowl into the trash and drove back to work.
After dealing with a bunch of kids wanting to return books, I explained the indexing and shelving method once again to another group of students. I finally pulled up a browser on my workstation and thought for a while.
Phone books were given out to all and sundry each year. So if you were in the phone book, anyone could find your phone number and address. Problem was, a new book wouldn't have been printed in the past few weeks.
I typed the name of the telephone company in the browser and pulled up their website. They had some online directory listing the phone numbers. I checked under both J and S with no luck. Then I remembered something about a caste and checked under I for Iyer. Most South Indians use their father’s or husband's name as the last name, when actually their family name is their caste. A search under I yielded many Iyers and Iyengars to my absolute surprise, but no Jyothi Sudhakaran or Jyothi S.
Stumped, I decided to give it a rest.
I was out of the library door as soon as it was five.
Sylvie greeted me at the diner as I walked in. “What's the matter, child? You look done in.”
Motee Ba was sitting at a table surrounded with grocery bags from Walmart. “We just got back from shop
ping for our trip.”
She gulped down a big sip of what looked like sweet tea. I had forgotten all about their proposed grocery run.
Jon brought in steaming plates of tomato soup and a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches.
“None of that fancy cheese you use. Good old American cheese, but it'll stick to your ribs.”
I smiled and thanked him, and stirred the spoon around in the soup. Becky called out from the kitchen.
“Eat up, girl, eat up!” Motee Ba ordered.
“And then spill them beans,” Sylvie added.
Too tired to argue, I mechanically spooned some soup into my mouth. After the 2nd or 3rd sip, my taste buds kicked in and I sat up straight.
“Just had a salad for lunch. One of those tiny pre-packed bowls.” I mumbled between bites. “I’m starving!”
I wiped the plate clean with the last bit of grilled cheese and sat back, replenished.
“You got some color into your face now,” Motee Ba smiled.
“Let me check with Becky in the kitchen.”
I crept away from the two dear oldies, not wanting to burden them with the whole Jyothi episode. We had all tacitly agreed to keep it from them, and so far we had managed.
“So how was your day?” Becky asked and was astonished at my lengthy spiel.
“Oh my. You are taking this seriously, aren't you?”
“I have to! You heard Dad talk about getting a lawyer. Who wants a shyster who’ll bleed us dry? I want to crack this case on my own.”
“You do know you're not Miss Marple, right?”
Becky was well aware of my obsession for British mysteries.
“Of course I know that. Never mind all that. Any ideas on what to do now?”
Becky seemed deep in thought, as she rolled and kneaded bread dough.
“Actually, you know what, I don't think you have covered it all. There is more than one phone, company you know. Did you check all of them? What about cell phone providers?”
I struck that point down right away.
“Cell phone! Even I don't have a cell phone yet. They are exorbitant. She always talked about money problems, so I doubt she would go for one.”
I thought more.
“But yes, maybe some other telephone company? But you know what, Universal Service is the cheapest, and that’s all these new kids will go for. So I guess she didn't have a phone in her name either.”
I felt beaten.
“I think that's about all I can take for today.”
I waved goodbye to Becky and picked up the grocery bags.
“I’m coming with you, Meera,” Motee Ba announced unnecessarily.
“Yeah, yeah. I know!” I spit out.
That wise woman who had washed my diapers and tied my pigtails calmly ignored me and regally stepped out of the diner, waiting for me to open the passenger door for her.
Chapter 17
Friday morning dawned a bit chilly and I hit the Snooze button on the alarm clock once too many times. Snuggling down under the duvet, sneaking in a few extra minutes of sleep is one of life's simple pleasures, especially when cool Fall breezes flow in through the open windows. Soon, we would have to keep them closed and switch on the heat. But not just yet.
I showered and dressed in my Friday uniform, capri jeans and a school colored tee. I pulled on a matching hoodie in case it got cooler later in the evening. Friday is the one day I don't have to think much about what to wear. As you get closer to campus, you come across a sea of green. Friday is without doubt ‘wear your school colors’ day.
I showered quickly, trying to make up for the extra time I had slept on. But it was Friday, and nothing could dampen my spirits. Our country style kitchen and dining room was bustling with the usual morning rush. I served myself from the big pot of oatmeal that was bubbling on the stove. I chopped in a banana, added two big scoops of brown sugar, dunked some raisins and added an extra dash of cinnamon. Oatmeal is the perfect fuel for a cool morning.
“Are my clothes for tomorrow pressed, Hansa?” Pappa wanted to know.
Jeet and I looked at each other and winked. Pappa would probably be all dressed and waiting by the door at 5 AM.
“I’ll be glad to get away too,” Dad agreed.
We didn’t talk much about what happened to Prudence Walker, but Dad had taken it hard. Losing a resource in the middle of the term also meant more work for him.
“No files or books, Anand. You are not doing any work on the sly.” Motee Ba reminded him.
“Well, I did think about going through a few assignments in the car ...” Dad started. “But, I won't. The only thing I am looking at is trees and more trees and maybe some waterfalls and lakes.”
We all smiled.
“Who's taking Mr. Patel for his doctor's appointment?” Motee Ba asked. “I have to come back early this afternoon, so can't be me.”
“Why don't we push it off and go next week?” Pappa said in a cajoling tone, always ready to avoid a trip to the doctor.
“No way, Pappa!” Dad said. “We need to stick to your regular check up schedule. It's been a while since you got your blood pressure checked or got your blood counts done.”
“Why don't I do it?” I volunteered. “I won't have to go far, and then I will ask Tony to give Pappa a ride back.”
We all agreed and I shuffled Pappa out to the car. He turned around and put his butt on the seat with a plunk. Then he rolled his legs inside and muttered a few choice words.
“Push the seat back, Meera!” he ordered. “Something has changed since the last time I sat here. I have very specific seat adjustments, Meera. You know that!”
“Yes, Pappa.”
I did his bidding until he was satisfied. He handed me his cane and I put it on the back seat.
“This car is too small!”
“Pappa, the Camry is a mid size car and it is quite roomy.”
I defended the 10 year old pile of junk.
“Why don't you get those things with automatic seats. And heated seats? These old bones need those.”
I humored Pappa and calmly agreed with all his assessments about my car, my job and my life. We finally pulled into the parking lot of the Health Center.
We sat in the crowded reception area. Most of the clientele was in the 20-25 age group. Pappa stood out as he looked around as if he was in a zoo. His cane went tap tap as he played with it. There were a few jocks surrounding a guy with his leg in a cast. Probably a fellow player, I thought. Most people were sniffling, sneezing and coughing, nursing allergies or a cold from the sudden change in the season. A couple sat in a corner, holding hands tightly. They looked tense, and the girl was almost green with worry. Hmmm, a morning after, looks like, I smiled to myself.
A nurse came and asked us if we had signed the sheet.
“Actually, no, I’ll do that now.”
I jumped up to go to the counter.
She gave me a look that said “How many times have you come here before?”
I filled out all of Pappa's details and wrote ‘regular visit’ under reason. I entered his doctor's name.
“Is this your primary physician?” the nurse wanted to know.
I nodded.
“He’s a bit busy, so you will have to wait.”
I rolled my eyes and reminded her we had an appointment. She pursed her lips and got up to check on things.
Pappa was talking to a bunch of Desi students, regaling them with stories about his past life. He rarely got any new listeners so I let him be. Another group of Desi students walked in, led by a guy. They sat in a corner and started whispering about what to do.
The nurse came back with a small empty vial. “You can start getting the blood work done.”
She motioned to Pappa and explained to him.
“We will get your lab work started. Here is a bottle for your urine sample. Results will be in after two weeks.”
Pappa got up and went with her.
I sat back and picked up a magazine. The reading
material mostly consisted of how to keep active in your senior years, or dire warnings about what symptoms you might be ignoring, what diseases lurked around the corner, silent killers and so on. I heard the word measles muttered around. Aren't these kids too old for that, I thought. I tried to tune them out and flipped some more pages. Finally, I just had to ask.
“Excuse me!”
They looked a bit startled, probably not expecting anyone to talk to them.
“Hello, I’m Meera. I work at the library?”
“I remember seeing you there,” one girl spoke up.
“I couldn't help but overhear you saying something about measles. Aren't you guys a bit old for that? Or is there a measles epidemic going around? Maybe you should be quarantined.”
“We don't have measles.” A guy was shaking his head from side to side. “But we need to get some injection for it. We are talking about how much it will cost.”
“I don't understand.”
I was stumped.
An older guy from the other group of Indian students pitched in.
“They are probably getting immunizations, you know. Trying to get their clearance from the Health Center.”
The others nodded.
“See, it's like this. There’s a mandatory set of immunizations and shots that all foreigners need to get before they come here. Some countries don't have the same immunization schedule that the United States has, you know.”
I nodded. I could well imagine that.
“So typically foreigners, people from third world countries, have to answer many questions, like have they had chicken pox before, are they immunized against measles, for example. If there is any gap, they have to get the shots in their home country before coming here. Otherwise, they have to get them here. Obviously, if you get the shots here, you gotta pay in dollars which is way more expensive.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
The girl I was talking to earlier spoke up.
“We try to get as many shots as possible before coming to this country, but sometimes there isn't enough time. They have to be done on a schedule. Like some shots have to be taken in steps of 2 or 3, a month apart, or something like that. We need a Clearance from here, or we won't be able to get our grades or finish the semester, you know.”