Mending the Past

by Avery June Ligon

  She had the manager send all five back to their jobs and told him she’d meet with Arjun and Puja after lunch. During this meeting she promised to pay them their regular salaries for the time they were gone, and she gave them two months of extra pay for their trouble. She promised to give them each a full year of pay if they returned the stolen item. At no point did she tell them what the item was.

  Mrs. Mae gave her new hires a list of attributes for the people they’d be searching for. “Heads of wild curly hair, white, not white, a baby, sometimes the man carries a cane and wears a crown. Don’t hurt the baby.” She gave them each their advance pay plus money for travel, and made it clear that if they tried to ask for more she’d require a very good reason. When they found who they were looking for they were to call her for more instructions.

  Arjun and Puja began by searching for these people in the most likely hotels for foreigners to be staying in. Depending on what seemed like it would work best, Arjun talked to the staff, or they waited nearby and watched people come and go. Arjun carried on a one-sided conversation much of the time. Puja wobbled her head to let him know she was listening, and when pressed, she responded as efficiently as possible.

  “Having a job at a hotel must be difficult,” Arjun said. “You must deal with unusual people with strange needs and requests.”

  The man he was questioning laughed. “You can’t imagine.”

  “Who’s the strangest person you’ve dealt with?”

  The man thought. “Too difficult, but, right now there’s a man who wears a little piece of cloth on his head, but it doesn’t cover the top of his head at all. It wraps around and covers his eye. He’s always making noise. The other day a couple of women knocked on the door to see if they could clean his room. He opened the door a crack, and peered out with his one good eye and whispered things that didn’t make sense. They say his eye darted back and forth. They say he sent them away by telling them that they needed to be very quiet and couldn’t come in because his friend was sleeping to recover his brain. Then he closed the door in their faces. They heard him on the other side talking to himself.”

  Arjun thought, maybe I misunderstood the meaning of the word crown. I’ll see what these people look like.

  He went across the street to where Puja waited by a produce stand. “I hear there are some strange people staying here,” he said. She moved her head in acknowledgment. “I hear there’s a man with something on his head.” She moved her head again, and together they waited. Arjun ate a little, not because he was hungry, but because he needed a way to pass the time. He sat back down again and thought of what he’d do with his share of the money. He had things he wanted for his home. He wanted to send money to his parents. Maybe he’d visit and bring them a big gift. Big. All of the neighbors would see. His parents would be proud. He planned to save some of the money, for tough times. “Puja, what will you do with a year worth of money?” Puja shrugged.

  Arjun was focusing on his food when Puja said, “Look.” He was startled by the sound of her voice, and looked first at Puja, then to a group of foreigners filing through the hotel’s door. The first was a woman carrying a baby, the second was a man who had to duck to fit through the door frame, the third was the man the hotel employee had spoken of, and a final sad looking man followed them. Except for the woman with the baby, they each had a travel bag.

  Arjun and Puja watched as the foreigners found two rickshaw drivers and began negotiating a price. The tall man took off his hat to wipe his forehead and curls sprang out and began to bounce with the movement of his head. Puja and Arjun looked at each other and one side of Puja’s mouth curled into a smile.

  As soon as the foreigners had driven away, the man and woman crossed the street to the remaining driver.

  “Excuse me,” Arjun said. “The people who just left, do you know where they’re going?”

  “The train station, and we’ll miss them. They’ve been an entertaining group.”

  Arjun offered a price to the rickshaw driver. The driver hesitated. It was less than he wanted, but being a part of the closing chapter of the stay of the crazy man was worth something to him. He agreed and Mrs. Mae’s two newest employees entered the rickshaw.

  “She told us to call when we found them,” Puja said to Arjun.

  “I know, but they have suitcases. Finding them is only worth something if we don’t lose them.”

  She moved her head.

  Arjun and Puja arrived at the train station behind the foreigners. When it was time to get tickets Arjun told the man behind the counter, “We’re helping the big man who just bought tickets. They forgot us. We need the same tickets they bought.” They were given tickets and they moved off into the crowd. The tall man was easy to find. They waited near him, and when the train arrived, they followed.

  Chapter 39 To Khajuraho

  When Bud woke he was still wearing the bandana. He noted thirst, and a feeling of being stuck in a fog. Bits of his night swam through his thoughts. He remembered Jet’s head, and how it said Ed would wake soon. Bud turned to examine his best friend, and Ed, having heard Bud move, turned and looked back at him. “Ed!” Bud scrambled out of bed to Ed’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”

  “I have a headache.”

  “You must be hungry and thirsty,” Bud said, checking that Ed was still fever free with his wrist against Ed’s forehead.

  Ed shrugged.

  “Ed, you’ve been asleep for three days. I’m going to go get you some food. Jet’s head came to the window last night. It was very worried about you. It told me you were about to wake up, and it was right. It also said I should feed you rice.”

  Ed looked at the blue bandana over Bud’s eye. “How are you?”

  “Oh fine, Jet’s head told me where to find her and now maybe Maggie’ll let me live a day in peace. No doubt she’ll want to leave soon. I’m going to make sure you get some food before she can interrupt.”

  “Butt-Eye? Is that you? Are you awake?” Maggie said through the wall.

  Bud’s eyes grew big and without saying anything else he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his wallet, and snuck out the door.

  Ed looked around him. Three days gone, he thought. His eyes stopped on the little chest of letters from his dad. Years gone, Ed thought. He lay his head back down on the pillow. He felt pretty bad, but knew the feeling. He’d eaten a peanut. He’d be more careful. Maybe learn the Hindi word for nut. He’d eat and drink some, and take something for the headache, feel tired and achy all day, but when he woke the next morning, he’d feel well enough.

  “Hello?” Maggie called through the wall.

  “Yes?”

  “Ed?”

  “Yes.”

  Maggie ran to him. She sat down on the edge of Ed’s bed, adjusted her sundress that matched her dog, and looked into his eyes. “How are you?”

  “All right. I’ll be feeling better tomorrow.”

  “So, have you realigned what it means to be you?”

  “What?”

  “You have a dad. He’s alive. Your mother has been lying to you for years. Have you accepted that into your sense of self? Have you made it a part of how your world works?”

  Maggie looked so eager that Ed was afraid to let her down. “I think you should ask me that again later. Right now, I’d just like to see my wife.”

  “Great!” Maggie threw her arms into the air. “Butt-Eye contacted her last night. In his vision she told him her whereabouts. All we have is the name of the city. I’ve sent Sam to ask how we get there. He’s at the front desk now. He’ll be back soon. Can you stand?”

  “Let me eat something first.”

  “Don’t eat anything she gives you,” Bud said. The smell of food burst through the door with him. Ed’s stomach began to growl, or lurch. He couldn’t decide which. Bud and Maggie glared at each other.

  “Can I have some of that?” Ed asked.

  “This one’s for you. Rice– just what your wife’s head ordered.” He handed Ed a
container of rice and a spoon. “I stopped and ordered some tea as I passed the front desk. It should be up in a few minutes. I hope that’s okay. I thought you should eat things that had been boiled. I wouldn’t want you to get sick again.”

  “Thanks,” Ed said and opened the container.

  Bud turned back to Maggie. “I ran into Sam down there. He’s taking notes on how to get us to Khajuraho. Good guy, that Sam. Asked me how I was feeling. Sounded remorseful.”

  Maggie ignored Bud. “Ed, I’ll just get your stuff packed. Maybe after you eat and have had a little tea you’ll feel ready.”

  “I’m already feeling a bit better. Thanks for the rice,” Ed said. “I need something for my headache.”

  “Sure,” Maggie said.

  “He wants something that was bought in a store, Maggie. Something that came with a safety seal,” Bud said. “I’ll get it. I’ll get it. Just make it a rule: Don’t ingest anything Maggie offers.”

  Maggie shrugged Bud’s words off and leaned back over her food. Bud brought a couple of pills to Ed. “Hang on, there’s a bottle of water around here somewhere. Let me find it.”

  There was a knock on the door and Sam said, “I brought the tea, and added a couple of more things to the menu. I can’t find Maggie. Is she there?”

  “We’re all here,” Bud said as he grabbed the bottle of water and headed toward the door.

  “Ed, yer up. Glad to see it,” Sam said. He pushed a food car through the door.

  Bud brought the water to Ed, who took the pills, as Bud found himself some food.

  “Did you get directions to Khajuraho?” Maggie asked.

  “Yep, wrote it all down,” Sam said, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket.

  They passed the slip of paper around and ate. By the time they were full they felt ready for the next leg of their adventure. Except for Ed. His achiness and exhaustion had sobered him. Ed was left unable to believe in an universe strung together by strange coincidence, or in the possibility of portals of consciousness through which his wife’s head could have given direction. Ed lay in bed listening to the others make plans. He watched water condense into droplets on the outside of the water bottle Bud had given him. They made their way slowly across the bottle’s surface until their paths merged, and their momentum increased. From there, they rolled onto the tabletop where they formed a ring of water and did nothing more.

  * * * * *

  When Jet told Steward of her conversation with Bud, Steward pulled out a file and copied onto a piece of notepaper directions from where they were to Khajuraho. He took the slip of paper to the front desk where he told the man there that he believed some of their guests would be looking for that route. Then Steward gave the man a tip to help him remember that Steward didn’t exist, but to call him when the directions had been given.

  A couple of hours later the man at the front desk called Steward to let him know the directions had been picked up and that the party was leaving for the train station. Jet listened to the conversation as she bounced the baby on her knee.

  “I’ll finish packing,” Jet said. “ Do you want to take the same train, or the one after?”

  “I think we should take the one after,” Steward said. “I’m afraid of running into them, and I like your idea of hiding in their shadow. Lets hope the shadow they cast is long.” Steward paused. “You weren’t kidding about your father. He’d stand out in any crowd.”

  “I know. It’s something you need to see to believe. I grew up with him, so he seems normal to me, but I see the looks other people give him. I once had a friend over to spend the night in elementary school. She screamed and ran when he opened the door.”

  “What do you think the chances are that the baby will grow to be that big? Is the rest of your dad’s family that tall?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone else related to my dad. He’s never mentioned anyone else being tall. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember him ever calling himself tall. He just thinks everyone else is short.”

  “Well, his shadow, at least, will be long.”

  “I’m worried that Bud’s might be longer.”

  Steward gave her a questioning look.

  “He’s going to remember having talked to me last night as a more or less real experience. Nestled into hours of hallucinations will be the memory of talking to me. He won’t think it was physically me because he won’t be able to explain my being outside the window. He’s going to think he channeled me. He’s going to think that he really is psychic.”

  Steward frowned. “The unfortunate piece is that, unless Bud has changed, he’s always enjoyed being helpful, and being good at something.”

  * * * * *

  When they were all on the train, Ed turned his eyes toward the window and his mind inward. His body was feeling better, though not much. The box of letters bounced around in his lap as the train pushed forward. Ed thought about the way the baby moved his mouth when he drank from a bottle. He looked down at the box and clicked open the latch. He pulled out the first letter.

  Dear Ed, I miss you, and I love you. Love, Dad

  Not a very long letter. I suppose I was only two or so. It was probably best to keep it simple.

  Ed put the letter into its envelope and then back in its spot in the box. He took out the next. It said the same thing. So did the third. I guess I get my abundant creativity from my father.

  He pulled out the fourth card. It had stick figure drawings. One stick figure was big and the other small. They were holding hands and both had short hair. His father had drawn some grass with some flowers and some birds and clouds. He’d put little numbers in the center of each flower and below each bird and in each cloud. Ed counted each of the three sets of numbers to himself and felt himself almost smile. I bet that would have been fun, if I was a little closer to the baby’s age. He tucked this letter into his pocket.

  Ed read a few more letters. Bud was talking to some people outside the door. Ed glanced up, but he couldn’t see any more than Bud’s back and a sliver of a man wearing a Gandhi cap who had volunteered himself to translate between Bud and someone else.

  “An emerald so big that my dear wife needed two hands to hold it,” Bud said.

  Ed put another card back into the box and took another. He’d read this one earlier. He put it back and picked up the next.

  Dear Ed,

  The world is very big. Just think of all of the different kinds of animals that live on earth. Today I went for a walk and a little monkey threw a piece of fruit at me. Can you imagine that? What bad manners that little monkey has!

  I hope you’re doing well. Be good for your mom and Uncle Steward. Don’t act like a little monkey!

  Love, Dad

  Ed refolded the letter and fitted it back into the envelope.

  “...then of course we made love. After all, we loved each other deeply and had just left behind a dangerous situation,” Bud said.

  Ed replaced the letter and pulled out the next. This envelope contained another envelope, self addressed, and a letter which told Ed that Uncle Steward would be happy to help him mail the envelope if Ed would like to send a note or a picture he’d made.

  “She was the most beautiful woman who ever lived. That’s why I left behind everything I knew to start a life with her. And a good life we had,” Bud said.

  Ed took his suitcase from under his seat. He packed away his letters, except for the one in his pocket and the self-addressed envelope. Then he pulled out a notepad and pen.

  “No, now that I’m back my powers for finding what’s needed have returned,” Bud said.

  Ed listened to the man in the Gandhi cap translate, then he looked back at the blank piece of paper. First he copied down his father’s address, then he flipped to a new page.

  “Yes, I know she’s near because I’ve reached her,” said Bud.

  Ed pulled his pen away from the paper before he made a mark. He repeated this a few more times.

  “Her head came
to me and told me where to go,” Bud said.

  Dear Dad,

  I just got your letters.

  Ed wasn’t sure what to write. He let Bud distract him.

  “How she always does, crazy curly hair, like her dad, and bright green eyes, got those from her dad too. Her name is Jet Mae and, if you see her, please tell her that we’re coming.”

  Ed put his pen back to the paper.

  Here is a picture of my wife and baby.

  Ed drew a happy stick figure with a head of curly hair holding a little bundle with a smiling face.

  I’m in India trying to find them. I’ll try to stop by and say hello to you before I leave. I hope your address is the same and that this letter and I find you.

  Love, Ed

  Ed tore the paper from the note pad.

  “That’s why I snuck into his backpack and took more.”

  Ed stopped licking the envelope. “What did you say?”

  Bud jumped. “Oh, Vishnu Ed, I forgot you were back there.”

  “What did you just tell those people?” Ed asked.

  “I said that I snuck into Sam’s backpack and took the bag of drugs he was feeding me.”

  “Why?”

  Bud frowned. “It’s really unpleasant having people sneak mind altering chemicals into your food.”

  “Did you throw them out?”

  “No. I ate some of those little mushrooms and I moved Sam’s little bag to my suitcase.”

  For a lack of something to say, Ed finished sealing his envelope.

  “Bud,” Ed said, “I need you to help me.” He knew that was true, but he didn’t know just what he needed help with. Maybe, tricking everyone into heading home before someone got hurt or lost?

  Bud preempted him. “I know you need my help. That’s why I’m keeping the channel of communication between me and your wife open.” Bud tugged on the eye patch of his bandana in a hat-tipping manner and turned back to talk to the people outside the door.