The Trickster

by Vinaya Bhagat

  ‘Now you say your mother’s name was Meera. Does that mean she is no longer with us?’

  ‘She and my father died in a car accident a few months ago,’ Diya said.

  ‘I am sorry to hear that.’

  Arun fell silent and looked at Diya. As the silence grew, she wondered if he really knew anything or was just enjoying their company.

  ‘My home was named in the memory of my great grandmother Meera,’ Arun said.

  ‘And you have not had anyone else in your family named Meera?’

  Before Arun could reply, a woman came with a tray laden with cups of coffee and two plates of biscuits.

  ‘We may never meet again in life but that does not mean we should forgo common courtesy,’ Arun smiled.

  Diya wondered if he was just stalling.

  They drank coffee in the fading daylight while Arun told them about his estate and his plans to convert some of the buildings into cottages for tourists.

  ‘Was there anyone else in your family named Meera?’ Diya repeated her question after what seemed like a polite interval.

  ‘Wasn’t it Shakespeare who said a rose by any name …’

  ‘It was …’

  ‘What I mean is names are not always what they seem and people sometimes don’t like the names they are born with. In short, do you have any photographs of your mother?’

  ‘Oh, yes, sorry …’ Flustered, Diya handed the man her mother’s photograph.

  Arun looked at the photo for a long time and then back at Diya. His gaze was frank and curious. ‘I wonder, I wonder,’ he said.

  ‘Joga …’ he called the plump man who was once again tending the coffee beans. He handed the photograph to the man and they spoke briefly in a dialect Diya could not understand. She looked at Ronnie who was hanging on to their every word.

  ‘My dear, do you mind if I keep your mother’s photograph? Joga also thinks that your mother looks familiar. I might be able to confirm it if you care to come back tomorrow.’

  Diya felt hopeful. Their host did not seem the kind who would mislead or give false hope.

  ‘Thank you for your help. See you tomorrow.’ They waved to Arun and walked back to Ronnie’s bike.

  Diya felt that not only had Arun recognized her mother’s photograph but her as well; perhaps, she resembled someone he once knew. If she had her paternal grandmother Nayan’s eyes, maybe her other features, including the mass of curly hair was inherited from her maternal grandmother.

  ‘Ronnie, did you feel that Arun recognized me?’

  ‘You mean, your mother?’

  ‘No, I mean me. At first, he kept staring at me, as if he had seen a ghost or something.’

  ‘Um … Diya, don’t misunderstand me, but you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met. In the last few weeks, I can assure you I have come close to bashing a few guys because of the way they stared at you.’

  ‘I don’t think it was like that.’

  ‘I am not saying he is a lecherous old bag of bones; he actually seems to be a decent man, but you do have a certain effect on men.’

  Diya smiled, wishing it was more than her effect on men that she had glimpsed in Arun’s eyes.

  ‘Ronnie …’ Diya said with her most innocent face. ‘This mesmerizing spell you say I cast on men, does it extend to you?’

  ‘You are a minx.’ Ronnie gripped her arm and pulled her close.

  Diya wrapped her arms around Ronnie’s waist. Joy blossomed in her heart as they drove down the mountains bathed in the red-orange glow of the setting sun echoing with the dusk chorus of birds.

  TERROR IN THE MOUNTAINS

  T

  he sun finally dipped behind a peak. Deep twilight shadows rushed in to stake night’s claim on the mountains.

  Pinpricks of lights punctuated the dark mountains cloaking them in a wizard’s starry robe.

  Diya moved closer and wrapped her arms around Ronnie. She smiled remembering another night and another ride through the mountains.

  In spite of Ronnie’s warmth, Diya shivered under the mountain’s chilly breath.

  ‘Ronnie, can you please stop? I am feeling really cold.’

  Ronnie pulled over to the side of the road and waited while Diya dug through the backpack for her jacket.

  She had one arm through the jacket when Ronnie pulled her close.

  Something rushed past them – a shadowy grey blur, a loud roar, and a sudden rush of wind that splattered them with a hail of sharp pebbles.

  ‘Watch where you are going, you moron,’ Ronnie shouted at the zooming vehicle.

  Diya’s scalp stung, a bump was already rising where the pebbles had struck, but there was no blood.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ronnie turned back to her.

  ‘Yes, yes, I am fine,’ she said.

  ‘Some people think they own the road.’ Ronnie was fuming as they got back on the bike.

  ‘Hang on tight, Diya. I am going to drive fast.’

  ‘You are not thinking of chasing the vehicle, are you?’ she asked.

  ‘I am not that big of an idiot. I just want to reach home safe. Daddy will kill me if he finds out what just happened.’

  Diya’s hands trembled as she got back on the bike. She could still hear the roar of the vehicle. It was just an accident. They had stopped by the side of a dark narrow road and the driver might not have noticed them, but then …

  ‘Ronnie, did you see the headlights of the vehicle?’ Diya shouted above the sound of rushing wind.

  Ronnie shook his head and slowed down.

  ‘Diya, cover your head with your hoodie,’ he shouted back.

  ‘Do you think it was deliberate?’

  ‘It was probably an accident, but I don’t want to take chances.’ Ronnie’s voice was strained with anger.

  Diya clung to him as they whizzed through the dark mountain pass without encountering anyone. Maybe it was an accident. If the vehicle’s headlights were not working, the driver might not have seen them in the dark.

  It had to be an accident.

  Diya spied the lights of a village in the valley below; soon they would not be alone. The signs of civilization were comforting but not enough to release the tense knot of fear in her stomach.

  The cold wind rushing past them stung her eyes and made them water but she continued to look out. She was afraid that a blind truck without headlights would ram into them.

  Most of all, she was afraid that they would be badly hurt and unable to escape the flames from the wreckage.

  Diya shook her head trying to get rid of her anxiety, but she feared that death was once again stalking her.

  Her fear was justified as a pair of burning eyes blazed at them through the darkness. The bright headlights rushed at breakneck speed almost blinding them.

  Ronnie swerved and moved to the other side of the road. They would have been flung off the road if another vehicle had sped by.

  Diya had no doubt that this was deliberate. That it was the same truck. From the way Ronnie was driving, it was clear that he too did not doubt the driver’s ill intentions.

  The truck shot past them, turned around, and bore down on them once again.

  Diya held Ronnie tightly as he swerved the bike from side to side, trying to avoid the truck. The bike skidded and loose pebbles skittered under the sliding tyres, but Ronnie still managed to keep them upright. Diya was afraid that the truck would ram into them and pin them against the mountain, or worse still, that they would plunge into the deep valley while trying to avoid the vehicle.

  Either way, death was tightening its hold on them.

  The road opened and they came to the village with brightly-lit shops on either side.

  Ronnie slowed down; there was traffic on both sides, but no sign of the truck. He kept pace with another bike and squarely between two buses. They rode down the mountains accompanied by their unwitting escorts.

  Soon, the buses turned away and the bike vanished in the direction of a village.

  Once again
, they were alone.

  Diya glanced around; she was sure they had not seen the last of the truck.

  Ronnie slowed down and drove in the middle of the road, keeping his options open.

  ‘There!’ Diya shouted as she spied the pale blur of the truck’s nose behind a rocky outcrop.

  The truck shot out on the road, headlights blazing, but Ronnie swerved out of its path and once again, the truck whizzed past them.

  Ronnie switched off the bike headlights and headed back up the mountains.

  They heard the truck’s brakes screech in the distance.

  The shadowy shape was once again behind them; the headlights were turned off.

  It was an ordinary truck, the kind Diya had seen all day, ferrying coffee beans or people up and down the mountain.

  She caught a glimpse of something huge in the back but they turned around a bend and she lost sight of the truck.

  Ronnie sped up as they climbed the mountain.

  Even over the rush of the wind, the whine of the truck’s engines was clearly audible.

  They turned a bend and Ronnie killed the engine; he used the bike’s momentum to turn around, and waited behind a rocky overhang.

  After a minute, the truck roared past.

  Ronnie pushed the bike with his feet and they glided down the mountain. Only after they had navigated two more bends did he start the engine, but he did not switch on the lights.

  Once again, Ronnie killed the engine and pushed the bike downhill.

  There was still no sign of the truck.

  Ronnie went off the road and headed down a narrow dirt road, barely bigger than a track.

  ‘Why are we going this way?’ Diya asked.

  ‘He will realize we have given him a slip. I think he knows these mountains well; he will be waiting for us somewhere around a steep curve.’

  ‘What if he follows us on this road?’

  ‘I don’t plan to stay on this road for too long.’

  They turned to another, narrower, dirt track. The trees grew closer and they had to bend to avoid the clinging tendrils of creepers and the sharp claws of low-hanging branches.

  The soft hum of the bike was barely audible in the night. Ronnie raced down when the road was clear and many a time, switched off the engine and let the bike roll.

  He never turned the headlights on.

  Diya was terrified that the truck and its monstrous homicidal driver would be waiting for them around the next corner. They passed without the truck making an appearance.

  ‘Do you think we have finally got rid of him?’ Diya asked.

  ‘I don’t know, Diya. I have a feeling he knows where we are going.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘Don’t worry, we are not going home.’

  Lights finally twinkled through the trees.

  Diya breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the path. It was the same path that she and Ronnie used to walk along when they stayed at Uncle Albert’s house.

  ‘I think we are safe now.’ Ronnie stopped the bike on the path and they got down.

  This time there was no hesitation, he hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head.

  Diya rested her head on Ronnie’s chest. His heart was pounding like a fast-moving train. She opened his jacket and rested her palm on his heart.

  ‘I would never have guessed you were scared,’ she tried to joke.

  ‘I have never been more terrified in my life,’ he admitted. ‘Not even when I had to tell my father that I could not make it to medical college and was destined to become a pharmacist.’

  ‘Thank you for saving my life. I am sure it was only because I was with you that the psycho attacked us,’ Diya said.

  ‘I have never heard of anything like this before; it’s enough for anyone to lose faith in humanity,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘I just hope you are not tired of saving my skin.’

  ‘Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again!’ Ronnie chided her.

  ‘What are we going to tell the family?’

  ‘The truth is always the best, but leave it to me.’

  SAFE HAVEN

  ‘R

  onnie! Is that blood on your head?’ Shelby shrieked as soon as they entered the house.

  In the dark, Diya had not noticed the bruise on Ronnie’s forehead. He must have been hit by one of the low-hanging branches they had encountered on their way through the woods.

  ‘Whom did you fight?’ George asked.

  They had not noticed George who had followed them into the house.

  ‘Just a tree,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘I can’t believe you took on a powerful enemy like a tree without me,’ George smiled.

  George’s tone was light, but there was something else there, a hint of something more. Diya wondered if Ronnie was prone to getting into fights.

  ‘If it makes you feel better, the tree survived.’ Ronnie’s tone was equally light, but it too had the same hint.

  Diya looked up and caught the look that passed between the cousins. It was obvious that a thread of understanding ran between them.

  George finally asked what had really happened.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ronnie said. ‘Honestly, I didn’t really get a chance to think about anything except escaping unharmed.’

  Diya heard the tremor in Ronnie’s voice and felt renewed gratitude for his courage. She had only been the passenger but it was Ronnie who had driven around those hairpin bends and outwitted their pursuer.

  ‘Yesterday we received a tip that my mother’s family came from somewhere near Meghagiri peak, so we went there,’ Diya said.

  Diya could sense the questions on everyone’s mind about the outcome of their visit, but no one voiced them.

  ‘It was quite late when we started back. It was quite cold so we stopped on the side of the road to wear jackets when a truck almost ran over us.’

  Ronnie’s voice began to tremble so Diya continued the story.

  ‘We thought it was just an accident but after a few kilometres, a truck came at us the wrong way.’

  ‘That seems like too much bad luck in a single evening,’ Albert commented.

  ‘Was it the same truck?’ George asked.

  ‘How would they know?’ Shelby countered.

  ‘Unless there is more than one psycho roaming the mountains tonight, I am pretty sure it was the same truck. It found us again; in fact, I can bet that he was waiting for us. We were halfway through Bund pass — and I don’t have to tell you what a dangerous pass that is — when the truck shot at us from the dark.’

  ‘I won’t claim I was expecting that to happen but I was uneasy after the second incident. I was driving slowly and as much in the middle of the road as possible, so I could evade it better.’

  ‘Did you see the truck go past?’ Albert asked.

  ‘No other vehicle like that went past us. I was watching. It was one of those trucks with an open back, the kind they use in those coffee estates,’ Diya added.

  ‘Then it’s clear that whoever it was came from one of the coffee estates. Those people know the mountains very well,’ George said.

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Albert asked.

  ‘If the truck didn’t pass them, it must have taken one of the unpaved roads through the mountains.’

  ‘Ronnie tricked him and we took a shortcut to come here.’

  The terror of that last ride was still too fresh to recount in detail.

  ‘Did you catch a glimpse of the driver?’ George asked.

  ‘I was too focussed on getting us out of there,’ Ronnie confessed.

  ‘I thought I did but maybe it was nothing,’ Diya said.

  ‘What did you see?’ Ronnie asked.

  Diya paused, trying to gather the fleeting impressions her subconscious had registered in those brief terror-filled moments.

  She was not sure what she had seen. It was dark, and they were going fast. She had only caught a fleeting glimpse from the awkward vantage point of looking over her sho
ulder.

  ‘Diya, what did you see?’ Mary asked.

  ‘The police might be able to catch them if you can recognize the driver.’

  ‘I don’t know. It was really dark, so I might be mistaken,’ Diya hesitated. ‘I thought it was an animal, like a bear, maybe.’

  No one spoke but Diya knew everyone was looking at her. She felt uncomfortable by the din of their silent disbelief.

  ‘And since bears can’t drive it must have been an unusually large man.’ Diya tried to smile but her face was frozen with fear.

  Albert cleared his throat. ‘It could have been a sack of coffee beans. You said it looked like a coffee estate truck.’

  ‘Yes, that must have been it,’ Diya said, but she was not convinced. The more she thought about it, the more that fleeting image distorted.

  ‘I have a good mind to find the idiot and thrash him,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘Ronnie, please don’t!’ Diya pleaded. ‘We are safe now, let’s not invite more trouble.’

  ‘I would be surprised if the miscreant was still around; he must have realized that you have given him the slip and would have crawled back into his dark hole,’ Albert added.

  ‘Why are you talking funny?’ Shelby asked.

  ‘I was just reading an interesting mystery novel,’ Albert admitted with a sheepish smile.

  Mary rolled her eyes and Shelby burst out laughing; even Diya could not help but smile.

  In this house, her fear of the Chakwa had receded. Albert had helped her solve the tangled knot of pain hidden in her father’s past. Once again, he had calmly and dispassionately dismantled her irrational fears. Diya took comfort in that and vowed not to let fear overcome reason again.

  ‘I don’t think there is any necessity for you to go home tonight. I will tell Sunny you are staying with us.’ Albert vanished into the depths of the house to place the call.

  Mary and Shelby went to the kitchen to finish dinner preparations.

  ‘Diya, are you really sure the driver was huge?’ George asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Diya admitted.

  ‘How huge? I mean, did he fill up the whole cabin?’