Gone with the Wings

by Leena Clover

  “If I found out where she was, I will stop being a suspect.”

  My reasoning sounded shallow even to my own ears.

  “That's the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

  Dad was angry.

  “What exactly did you do?”

  I looked at Tony and Becky. We gave everyone a short version of how we had tried to track down the missing girl.

  “You have pulled enough stunts in your short life, Meera," Dad said. “But this tops them all. I want to you to stop this immediately. Right away, do you understand?”

  “What's that going to achieve?” I mumbled.

  “Speak up and listen to me. I am hiring a lawyer right now. You will not argue about this. You need to be prepared in case the cops come and take you away.”

  I wasn't convinced.

  “I’m innocent. I haven't done anything. Why should I pay a lawyer?”

  “Because you need to think smart, that's why,” Pappa added. “No child of mine is spending time in the local lockup.”

  “But Pappa … it's never gonna happen!”

  “They have a point, Meera,” Tony started and stopped mid way when I gave him a quelling look.

  “Yes, what's the problem with being prepared?” Becky added.

  Aunty Reema plunged in.

  “Look at it this way. Maybe it will deter the cops from harassing you, at the very least.”

  “And show that fool Stan Miller you are not alone, girl,” Sylvie said, banging her fist on a side table. “Times like these, you need to show your might.”

  I saw Motee Ba open her mouth to say something and I stood up.

  “Don't you start now. You are all ganging up against me. How can you think I would do anything bad? I hardly noticed the girl.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek.

  I rushed into my room and slammed the door shut. Leaping onto the bed, I buried myself under a mound of pillows and gave in to a good crying session. I blamed my fate, I blamed Stan Miller and I cursed the day I had set eyes on Jyothi Sudhakaran. Then I sobered at the thought that her fate was probably worse than mine. That set off another crying jag and I finally dozed off.

  When I woke up, I was on my back with the covers pulled up to my chest. The blinds were drawn and a window was cracked open just a bit to let some fresh air in. The stand fan I liked was blowing Hawaiian breezes in my direction.

  Motee Ba sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner of my room with her feet on the matching ottoman.

  “Kem Cho, baby?” Motee Ba burst out in Guajarati, obviously worried about me. “How are you?”

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The digital clock on the night stand showed 2:30. PM I hope, I thought.

  “What's happening? Where's everyone?” I asked.

  The Davises have gone home, so have the Sinclairs and Becky. Jeet went out with his friend. Your Dad is talking to a few people and getting referrals for the right attorney to represent you. Pappa is taking a nap.

  “What do you think, Motee Ba? Am I wrong in trying to find the girl?”

  Growing up with an absent mother and a rarely present father, my moral compass had come from my grandparents. What they thought mattered to me.

  “No, my child. I think you are being noble spending your time looking for a stranger. After all, we don't really know her.”

  I mused out loud.

  “Maybe I am too late. I should have helped her when she asked for it.”

  “Now that's just your guilt talking,” Motee Ba protested. “Was there anything you could have done, really?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did you have the power to help but deliberately hold back?”

  I shook my head again.

  “Well then,” Motee Ba spread her hands and shrugged.

  “Meera, there are hundreds of new students coming in every year. And all of them want something from us. Some feel they are entitled because we have more than they do. But that is not fair to us. We have worked hard, very hard to get to this point. You know that!”

  Having heard my family's history many a times, and having witnessed the struggles we went through, I knew she was right.

  “Stop thinking you are responsible, first thing,” Motee Ba held up her finger. “Do you still want to find out what happened to the girl?”

  “I do! It’s like an incomplete puzzle now. I have to know what happened.”

  I realized for the first time how committed I was to this search.

  “Well then. Use that sharp mind of yours, and figure out scenarios. Try to eliminate options and what remains will be the solution.”

  Motee Ba, my barely educated grandmother, presented it in a cut and dried manner.

  “Thanks!” I said.

  “And one thing more. Let your Dad gather the lawyers. No harm in having backup. You do your thing and let us do ours.”

  “What would I do without you?” I asked her, leaping out of bed to hug her tightly.

  “I am not going anywhere yet,” she quipped. “Now freshen up and eat. There's some khichdi bubbling away in the slow cooker and I made kadhi too.”

  I smiled and jumped out of bed.

  Khichdi-Kadhi is comfort food to us Patels, and the thought of creamy rice and lentils with thick buttermilk stew made my mouth water.

  Chapter 21

  Standing in front of the Electrical Engineering building, I took a deep breath. Most of Sunday had been spent lazing away, helping Pappa in the garden. I had tossed and turned at night, trying to rid my mind of conflicting thoughts. I had finally gone into the kitchen to warm up some milk. My Eureka moment had come as dawn was lightening the sky, filling it with pink and orange streaks.

  Too impatient to waste a single moment, I had showered and stepped out of the house much before my usual time. I pulled into the gas station, planning to grab some coffee and an energy bar, really hoping to avoid running into anyone.

  Tony was already behind the counter, much to my chagrin. He jumped over the counter and rushed outside when he saw me. I had barely pulled to a stop before he pulled open the car door and grabbed my hand. He pulled me into a tight hug and planted a smackeroo on my face. I hadn't seen this expressive side of Tony for a while, not since his accident.

  “How are you, Meera? Feeling better? Or still mad?”

  “What's wrong with me?” I wanted to know.

  “Well, you were really riled up. And that whole stunt Stan Miller pulled. I could hardly sleep last night.”

  “Me neither,” I admitted.

  “So what are we gonna do now? We have to get this behind us.”

  I realized how fortunate I was to have such a loyal friend.

  “Motee Ba and I discussed it. I am going to let them help with the lawyers and stuff.”

  Tony looked relieved.

  “That is smart. Nothing wrong with letting your family support you.”

  “Yeah! And I am going to plunge headlong into solving this puzzle now. I am going to get to the bottom of what happened to this girl. Are you with me?”

  “You have to ask?” Tony hugged me again and we went in to get coffee.

  “So what's the plan?” Tony wanted to know as he rang the cash register for me.

  I told him about my epiphany and we discussed the pros and cons of it.

  “Well, I doubt they have any graduate classes this early in the morning. It's barely 7:30,” Tony teased. “So there's ample time to check the class schedules and figure out which classes she was in.”

  Every graduate program has a certain class schedule for the semester. Students need to complete core classes and then choose optional electives. The core classes are offered in a certain pattern, and you more or less have to pick them at the right time if you want to complete your degree in the optimum two years.

  I had struck on an indirect way to track down Jyothi Sudhakaran's classmates. She was new into the Electrical Engineering program. I went to the program website and checked all the core classes, and which ones were offered in
that particular semester. Some were advanced classes needing pre-requisites. By the process of elimination, I figured out that Jyothi Sudhakaran must certainly have enrolled into Telecommunications I this semester.

  Now I was standing in front of the building, working up courage to ambush the students coming out of the class. As the class ended, there was a rapid exodus. High school or graduate school, some things remain the same, I thought. Students were clustered in groups and I looked around for a lot that looked Indian. Considering the girl's personality, they were the most likely to have interacted with her.

  I zeroed in on a group of quiet Desi girls. They were dressed in the jeans and T-shirt uniform like the rest, but they seemed slightly subdued, trying to blend in. Must be new, I thought, and lunged toward them.

  “Excuse me, can I talk to you for a few minutes?” I asked the girls.

  They looked at each other, seeming slightly flustered and uneasy.

  “Don't worry, you are not in any trouble,” I joked.

  They took it literally and looked more serious.

  “My name is Meera. Meera Patel.”

  I offered them my hand which they reluctantly shook.

  “I work at the library?”

  I pointed toward the library building.

  “We haven't checked out any books yet,” one of the girls ventured.

  “Oh no, no!” I smiled at them. “This has nothing to do with the library. It is sort of personal.”

  “But we don't even know you,” the same girl said again.

  She had taken on the role of spokesperson for the whole group.

  “I am looking for a girl called Jyothi Sudhakaran. She is in your class, isn't she?” I went straight to the point.

  “Yes, she is. But we haven't seen her for a while. She hasn't come to classes. In fact, we were looking for her because she is supposed to be on our project team. We need to start working on that ASAP.”

  Another girl added. “It's 30% of the grade you know. Jyothi needs to pull her weight. There's a lot to be done.”

  I commiserated with their plight, and then tackled the burning question. “Do you know where she lives?”

  “Not exactly. Somewhere South of campus.”

  I finally felt a ray of hope.

  “Really, where. How much do you know? Anything will help.”

  “How do I know you won't cause trouble for her?” The girl suddenly puffed up with self importance.

  “Why would you think that? You don't even know me.” I protested.

  “Exactly!” the girl said.

  “It's about a job,” I improvised.

  “Well, most international students live at walking distance from campus. Certainly the new ones because they don't have cars.”

  I wondered why I hadn't thought of that.

  “I saw her somewhere near Elm and 3rd a few times. Also on 6th near Elm Street. So maybe she lives there somewhere?” the girl finally volunteered.

  “That's almost three blocks. Can you narrow it down more?”

  “Sorry!” the girl said. “We live closer to campus and she doesn't live there. The North side is much farther in the opposite direction.”

  I had to take what I got. I thanked the girls and waved them off. At least I had a clue to work on. Only further investigation would tell if it was true or not.

  I climbed the steps to reach the building and went along to Dad's office. Lunch hour was coming up and I thought I’d ask him if he was free to grab a bite. I needed to say sorry to him for my outburst and also hear what his efforts to find a lawyer had produced.

  I knocked on Dad's office door and went in. He looked up and smiled wearily.

  “Hello dear, sit down.”

  “How about some lunch, Dad?” I asked hopefully. “Some stir fry from the food court?”

  I knew he couldn't turn down his favorite wok chicken. And more importantly, he couldn't turn down his contrite daughter. At least I hoped he couldn't.

  “Let's go!” he said, never big on words.

  He nodded toward a string of students as they greeted him, and said hello to a professor friend or two. It was the lunch rush and everyone was either headed toward to food court, or toward their cars to go out for lunch. I grabbed two trays for us and handed him his.

  We loaded up our bowls with broccoli, mushrooms, garlic, zucchini, and lots of pineapple for me, before handing it over to the wok lady. Chicken with garlic sauce, I told her, and Dad added the same. We finally found an empty table and settled down.

  I speared some chicken and broccoli in my fork and looked up at Dad. He was pouring soy sauce over his rice.

  “Dad,” I began.

  He grunted and shoveled food into his mouth.

  “Dad, I’m sorry for yesterday,” I said again.

  “Hmmm …” was all Dad came up with.

  “I know you are worrying about me, so I am going to take you up on the lawyer thing,” I admitted.

  He finally looked up and smiled.

  “Good! I'm glad you are being practical at last. I spoke with an attorney in Oklahoma City. He has offices there but he comes here for the weekends so he knows the area. He is on retainer, and we know who to call now if something goes wrong. So forget everything and get back to your life. Forget you ever saw that girl.”

  He seemed pleased with himself. He started talking about something else and I let him drone on. I was thinking whether I should let him know my plans. Finally, I couldn't stay quiet.

  “Dad! Thanks for the lawyer. I am glad to have the support. But I'm not going to forget about the girl.”

  “What do you mean, Meera?” he frowned.

  “I’m going to keep looking for her, get to the bottom of this.”

  “That's the stupidest idea ever,” Dad struck me down.

  “Well, someone has to look for the girl. The police aren't doing anything, apparently. She is all alone here without any friends.”

  “So what? So are most of the international students who come here from hundreds of countries.”

  “Yes, but they are not the ones missing, Dad! I am in too deep. It's like a real life puzzle. How can a person just disappear? There is bound to be a trail. I'm gonna follow it.”

  Dad looked annoyed.

  “I don't like it. I don't like it at all.”

  “What's your objection? You may be able to just let a person go. I can't!!”

  I burst out, and then put a hand over my mouth.

  “Dad! I didn't mean ...” I cried out.

  But Dad had already picked up his tray. He dumped the remains in a trash can and walked out without giving me a second glance.

  In trying to do a good deed for a virtual stranger, I had ended up alienating my Dad.

  Chapter 22

  The day dragged as Mondays usually do. I was distressed after the scene with Dad and counting the minutes until I could get out and breathe some fresh air.

  Finally, I stepped out and drove to the diner. Tony was meeting me there and I was eager to tell him what I had found out. Becky placed a grilled cheese sandwich in front of me, and I pushed it away.

  “What's the matter? It has three cheese slices, just the way you like them.”

  I looked at the two of them and told them how I had hurt Dad.

  “That is unfortunate. But I am sure Uncle Andy knows you didn't mean to hurt him.” Tony tried to soothe me. “We have to figure out what Stan has on you. However dumb he is, he is not brash enough to accuse you without any proof.”

  “So you mean you believe him?” I cried.

  “Cool down. That's not what I mean. You gotta try and remember if that girl ever saw you talking to Prudence.”

  I shrugged.

  “Don't stress on it now,” Becky added. “But it may be important.”

  “Are we stuck again?” Tony wanted to know.

  “I met some girls who know Jyothi,” I told them.

  “Now you’re coming to the point,” Becky slapped me on the arm.

  I
told them about my meeting with the girls and what they had said.

  “So what’re we waiting for?” Tony asked. “Let's go there and scout around.”

  “Yup! Tony's right, Meera. There's over an hour of daylight left. You guys should head out right now!”

  “Do you realize that's almost 3 square blocks? Are we going to knock on every door?” I ridiculed Tony's idea.

  “We may not need to!” Tony explained. “At this moment, you don't even know what's there. Actually seeing the area will give us more ideas. You'll see.”

  I refused to get up, refused to be optimistic.

  Becky literally pulled me out of the chair and pointed me in the direction of the door. I climbed wearily into Tony's cab and we started out. Barely 5 minutes later, we were at the intersection of Elm Street and 6th Ave. Tony pulled over to the side.

  “Isn't this where she was spotted?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, let's go around the blocks first.”

  Tony made a left on Elm Street and went down slowly. He then made a left on 3rd again. We inched along and made a left again before we came across 6th.

  “That's just the outer periphery. What about the streets in between?” I wanted to know.

  “We will cover those too, Meera. Just be patient. Do you see where I am going with this?”

  I shook my head.

  Tony sighed. “Stop worrying for a minute and put that brain of yours to use. We’ll run these grids and eliminate the ones which don't make sense. You know, like restaurants or shops, or offices. We will just note down the numbers of houses or residential property. Let's start with that for now. I am sure we will eliminate something!”

  Tony sounded confident. I nodded and took out a pack of sticky notes and a pen from my bag.

  We started going toward Elm Street again from 6th. A pizza place spanned almost a block, and then there was some kind of office. We crossed Pine and came up on a sandwich shop. That was a no too. Another store and an empty lot later, we came up on the ATM. Tony made a left and we crossed a dentist's office and a hair salon. Two or three buildings had shiny cars in front of them and they were struck off too. The bank occupied an entire block and Tony finally made a left on 3rd.

  “How many numbers did you write down?” Tony asked.