The Trickster

by Vinaya Bhagat

  Diya willed the man to turn back and go to the front of the house but he lingered and looked straight at the trees where they were hiding. She wanted to get a look at the man’s feet but he was too far. If she moved, she risked giving away their hiding place.

  The man switched on a torch and pointed it at the thicket behind which they were hiding. Shards of light filtered through the wall of trees and fell on the grass near them, but the dense trees did not betray them.

  Finally, the man turned around and walked back to the front of the house. Diya looked at her companion. Was she making a deadly mistake by trusting the woman? What if the man was really Raghav and the shoe was planted by the Chakwa to trick her?

  THE FLIGHT

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  iya and the woman remained crouched behind the trees, but the man did not return.

  Diya ran to the edge of the house and peered around the corner; there was no sign of the man.

  ‘I think he has gone inside the house. Let’s go.’

  The woman looked scared, but she nodded.

  Diya mapped out a path with maximum cover to the main gate. The thicket they were hiding in, connected to the bamboo grove in the garden.

  They waited under the cover of the bamboos before dashing to the giant cactus in the middle of the garden. The nearest building was a few yards away. Once they reached the building, they had cover all the way to the gate. They could sneak through the small gate and disappear into the night.

  Diya was about to dash across the grass to the building when the woman stopped her.

  ‘I don’t think we can go through the gate,’ the woman whispered.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Look at the gate.’

  ‘I don’t see anything.’

  ‘Look again.’

  A shadow changed shape, but it was too dark to identify. Had the Chakwa guessed they would try to escape through the gate and crouched there? The shadow moved again. It became larger and broke away from the dark night.

  It was a dog.

  Diya looked around but could not spot any of the dog’s companions.

  The dog stopped and sniffed the night air.

  Had it caught their scent?

  If it was suspicious, why hadn’t the dog attacked them? Hadn’t Raghav said the dogs were killers?

  Diya got her answer a moment later when the dog moved. A thin dark shadow radiated from the dog’s neck to the gate.

  ‘We can’t go this way; the dog will see us,’ the woman said.

  ‘But it is tied. I am sure I can climb up the fence.’

  ‘The fence is electrified.’

  Diya’s heart sank.

  ‘I know another way,’ the woman said.

  Hope sparked once again.

  ‘We can go that way.’ The woman pointed to the mountain that stood between Gowrish and Mala’s estates.

  The tiny light near the hilltop shrine shone like a beacon of hope.

  ‘It’s not a clear path. It is overgrown and we will have to go through the trees, but that’s our best chance.’

  ‘What about the road the workers take when they unload the beans? Why can’t we go that way?’

  ‘I am sure a dog is guarding that gate too.’

  There had to be another way. Such a large estate could not be a fortress. There must be gaps in the fence or paths they could take to reach the nearby houses. She was sure the workers did it all the time.

  The strange woman had helped her escape the house, but Diya was not sure she could really trust her. What if the woman was in cahoots with the Chakwa, and in the guise of helping, was luring her straight to certain death?

  ‘I am sure there are other ways to reach the main road or some of the houses.’

  ‘There are none. All of them were closed years ago.’

  Diya was not convinced. How could there not be even a small path?

  Why was the woman so insistent upon going through the forest and the mountain?

  She did not even know who this woman was. So how could she stake her life on her claims?

  ‘Who are you?’ Diya asked.

  Before the woman could reply, the man came running out of the house, crazily stabbing at the night with a powerful torch beam.

  ‘Please Diya, we must go. Otherwise, he will find us.’

  ‘Ok, let’s go through the mountains.’

  They ran back the way they had come, away from the torch beam now systematically searching the grounds.

  With a last glance at the house, Diya followed the woman into the forest.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she could follow the woman without bumping into trees or tripping over. Soon it became darker as the trees huddled closer. A shiver ran down Diya’s spine. Was she making a mistake by following this woman on a dangerous trek? There was no sign of the torch stabbing through the night. Maybe they had lost their pursuer.

  Could she turn around and take her chances with the other gate.

  The woman must have sensed her doubts. She turned back and quietly urged Diya to follow her.

  ‘Are you sure we are going in the right direction? I can’t see the mountain.’

  ‘I am sure,’ the woman replied. ‘We must hurry. It won’t be long before he realizes that we are not in the house. And since he knows we cannot escape through the gates, he will search for us in the woods.’

  ‘Will he guess we are taking the road through the mountains?’

  ‘Yes, he knows there is no other way.’

  ‘Then how can we escape?’

  ‘There are many paths through the mountains, and I am sure he does not know all of them.’

  ‘And you do?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Please hurry; if we reach the mountains before him, we can easily escape.’

  Diya sensed the urgency in the woman’s voice and followed.

  Soon they were deep in the dark belly of the forest buzzing with the sound of insects and sinister rustlings in the undergrowth. Diya was afraid of stumbling with every step but the woman cut through the trees with a sure-footed gait.

  ‘How do you know these woods and the paths through these mountains?’

  ‘Because this is my home.’

  There was pride and a certain sense of ownership in the woman’s statement.

  ‘You mean you work here, on the estate?’

  ‘No,’ the woman said. ‘This is my home.’

  Doubts assailed Diya once again. If this was the woman’s home, why had she never seen her? Why hadn’t Gowrish or Raghav mentioned her? Maybe her fears were true and the woman was the Chakwa. She let the woman go ahead and followed at a safe distance, in case her suspicions proved to be correct. Diya gripped the golf clubs tighter; the clubs had seemed like weapons when she picked them, but now they felt more like delicate matchsticks.

  Diya tried to recall what her father had told her about the Chakwa; the details were a bit hazy. Was it the Chakwa’s feet that gave it away or its footprints? She could not remember.

  The woman or the Chakwa walked rapidly towards the mountain, or perhaps its lair where it carried its victims to be tortured and devoured at leisure.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Diya, please. You have to trust me. I will explain once we are safe.’

  The woman’s voice was soft and tender, just like her mother’s, but now that she was wise to the Chakwa’s way of working, she was not reassured.

  If the woman was indeed the Chakwa, there was no escape. If she wasn’t, and the Chakwa was roaming the grounds disguised as Raghav, then this woman held the key to her survival.

  At last, the fly was finally in the spider’s web. Tonight, there will be no escape.

  The forest was damp and noisy. It was as if another planet had woken up now that humans had retreated into their holes. The air buzzed with the chaotic sounds of the jungle. The sound of their footsteps, already muted by the moist undergrowth, hardly registered among this din. The birds and bats glided
silently through the trees hunting for prey in the verdant greenery. Diya brushed a cobweb away and swatted an insect that landed on her face. Despite the insects and the threat of the Chakwa, the night orchestra was soothing. The walk became monotonous as they made their way through the dark tunnel of trees.

  ‘Diya! Diya!’

  The sudden cry of her name startled Diya.

  The voice was close but she had not heard any footsteps or other disturbance; maybe whoever was following them too knew these paths well.

  The woman paused and motioned Diya to stop.

  ‘Diya!’ Once again, the cry of her name broke the harmony of the night.

  The voice sounded alarmed, almost terrified.

  ‘Diya, this is Raghav. If you can hear me, just stay assured that I will rescue you from the clutches of this monster.’

  ‘Don’t believe a word he says,’ the woman breathed near Diya’s ear.

  Her breath was hot and fetid as if she had not brushed her teeth for ages.

  ‘He means only harm to you. I will save you.’

  Diya shuddered, torn between the security of Raghav’s familiar voice and the woman’s assurance of safety.

  ‘Diya, if you can talk, please shout or make some noise so I can find you. That woman is the Chakwa. Just look at her face and body. Have you ever seen anything so hideous? Only a monster which has no body of its own, but creates one by eating the flesh of its victims, can be this ugly.’

  Diya looked down at the woman’s hand clamped around her arm. The skin was dimpled and pitted like rough mountain terrain. In places, it was stretched thin like a rubber glove, revealing flesh and pulsing veins underneath.

  ‘He is wicked,’ the woman whispered. Her voice choked on unshed tears.

  Whom should she trust?

  ‘Are you the Chakwa?’ Diya asked.

  ‘Chakwa? Of course not!’ the woman said.

  ‘Diya! Diya!’ Raghav’s voice called. ‘Please God! Let her be safe.’

  The sound of footsteps was clearly audible now as the owner of the voice ran through the forest trampling the undergrowth.

  ‘Diya! Please, we must go, else he will find us,’ the woman pleaded.

  ‘Ok,’ Diya said. She did not know why she agreed. She just hoped it was the right decision.

  Diya followed the woman deeper into the jungle. The trees grew closer; there was no sign of the faint path trampled on by dainty feet they had travelled along earlier.

  The man was running through the trees now, and the sound of his footsteps grew louder.

  They too had to sacrifice stealth for speed.

  ‘Diya, I can hear you. Don’t worry, I am coming for you. Just turn around and run back towards me. The Chakwa cannot harm you. She is powerless now that I am around. She knows I am her nemesis. Turn around Diya, come back,’ Raghav’s voice pleaded.

  The trees grew sparse; soon they would have no option but to break cover and move into the open.

  The woman led her to a small grove, probably their last hiding place before they would have to make a run for the hill.

  Their pursuer must have adopted stealth, as they could no longer hear any sounds through the trees behind them.

  Did he know where they were hiding? There were three more hillocks with dense tree groves where they could have hidden.

  ‘Diya, where are you? Please let me know you are safe.’ The man who spoke in Raghav’s voice was standing at the bottom of the mountain, his faint outline etched against the dark mountains.

  ‘Diya, I beg you, please trust me. She burnt your innocent parents alive and today she has killed my father. I don’t want to lose you, too.’ Raghav’s voice choked and he broke down into sobs.

  Diya looked down at the woman sitting on the ground. Could she trust this strange woman or was that really Raghav mourning his father’s death on the mountain?

  It was clear that she was being tricked, but she could not decide who the trickster was.

  The hilltop beacon shone brightly. Maybe she could give a slip to both her pursuer and the woman and reach the safety of Mala’s home.

  The woman removed her shoes and started massaging her feet. There were raw patches around her ankles and toes where the shoes had rubbed off on her skin. There was one way to verify. ‘Come with me,’ Diya said to the woman. ‘I know how to make your feet better.’

  ‘I have not worn closed shoes since my school days.’ The woman gave her a pale smile.

  Diya helped the woman get up and took her to the small brook that ran behind them.

  ‘Wet your feet in the water,’ Diya said.

  The woman tried to avoid the wet mud around the brook but there was no other way to get to the water. She stepped into the mud and walked to the brook.

  The footsteps pointed away from Diya, in the same direction that the woman was walking. The woman’s feet and footsteps were both normal.

  Diya glanced over at the man sitting on the mountain. He was still sobbing with his head in his hands.

  ‘Come quickly. You need to dry your feet and wear your shoes again.’ Diya helped the woman to dry land.

  Diya felt re-energized as it was now clear that the woman was not the Chakwa. The woman could still be conspiring with the Chakwa, but she trusted her instincts; she believed that the woman was, indeed, trying to help her. The man had admitted that Gowrish was dead, and since he was pretending to be Raghav, it was clear that Raghav too was dead. If it was Raghav, he could not walk with a severed foot, let alone run and climb as this man claiming to be Raghav was doing.

  She was the lone survivor. Earlier, she would have been afraid, she would have wanted to curl up in a ball and hide somewhere.

  Not today.

  Diya felt anger rise for the first time since her nightmare had begun. She was tired of being hunted. Now she wanted to become the hunter. She wanted to pursue the trickster and rid herself of him.

  First, she had to escape. Then she would leave no stone unturned to seek revenge.

  ‘Looks like he has anticipated our plan to go over the mountain.’

  Diya helped the woman wear the shoes.

  ‘Diya, this is my last call to you. If you do not answer, I will assume you are dead, too. I will go back home and call the police.’

  The night was just beginning; the chase just getting warm. Let the girl think she was safe, that she could escape. Then he would pounce and devour her as he had devoured others. It was time to step up the game.

  Raghav stood up, threw a last glance around, and walked back down the mountain with stooping shoulders.

  ‘He has no intention of calling the police,’ the woman said. ‘He knows the mountain is our best bet. I have a feeling he is bluffing.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Diya asked.

  ‘I think he is just pretending to go to the house. I am sure he will hide nearby and wait for us to come out, so he can start climbing the mountain.’

  ‘And we cannot escape through the gates because of the dogs.’ Diya’s heart sank.

  ‘Yes, but dogs can be killed.’

  Diya was horrified. How did the woman plan to kill those devilish beasts?

  ‘How?’

  ‘I know where to get a gun. We can shoot the dogs.’

  ‘I have never fired a gun in my life.’ Diya was not sure she would be able to take aim and fire with enough accuracy to kill the dogs.

  ‘It’s been a long time, but I was once a good shot. I think I can manage the dogs.’ The woman smiled and squeezed Diya’s hand. ‘I will not let you down.’

  From the way she said it, Diya felt sure the woman was her mother. She had the same self-assurance and confidence, the same fierce determination to protect her.

  As much as Diya would have liked to find out how her mother could have survived the car crash and the resulting fire, she was also afraid to ask. For the moment, she had to be content that the woman probably was not the trickster.

  TRICKING THE TRICKSTER

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watched the man disappear into the trees.

  ‘Let’s go. We have to hurry and get to the guns before he realizes we are not going up the mountain,’ the woman suggested.

  ‘But he will still see us if we go back through the trees.’

  ‘We are not going back that way. There is another faster route through the coffee plantation.’

  They jumped over the brook at the point where it was just a thin trickle, and waded into the plantation.

  From above, the plantation had seemed like a solid green mass. Diya was surprised that well-defined pathways dissected it.

  The plants were tall enough to hide them and the paths wide enough for them to run, without making noise or shaking the plants.

  Diya took her cues from the woman, speeding up or slowing down when the woman did. It wasn’t long before she caught a glimpse of the old estate manager’s cottage.

  ‘The man who lived here had two guns. I know where he kept them.’

  ‘But the place is locked.’

  ‘I know where he hid the spare key.’ The woman smiled.

  She looked like a naughty young girl who knew all the adults secrets.

  They climbed up the steep side of the mountain behind the cottage. They kept as low as possible so that their silhouettes did not stand up against the bare landscape.

  They were almost near the house when someone switched on the lights. Just for a moment, there was a tiny flicker behind the drapes.

  Diya pulled the woman down onto the dirt path that circled the house.

  Someone was stumbling in the dark interiors of the cottage, bumping into furniture, and moaning softly.

  ‘I think he needs help,’ the woman said.

  ‘No, this is a trap.’ Diya pulled her back down the slope into the depths of the coffee plants. ‘He wants us to think someone is in trouble. The moment we go inside, he will attack.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ the woman looked worried.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Ok.’ The woman seemed reluctant but agreed.

  RONNIE AND GRANDPA

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  he estate slumbered under a cold rigid darkness. There was not even a glimmer of light anywhere in the grounds. A huge padlock held the front gates tightly shut.