Outlaw in India

by Philip Roy

  We weren’t much further than five miles from land but I didn’t know which way it was. We had been pointing north when we went down. Had the explosions turned us around? I couldn’t tell. I knew that as we approached land, the sea floor would rise. If we went further out to sea, it would fall. Without sonar we’d only know the sea floor was rising if we ran into it. If we went slowly, at maybe two or three knots, hitting bottom wouldn’t be so bad. Even striking a reef dead-on wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be any fun but it wouldn’t be a catastrophe.

  So that’s what I decided to do. I pedalled gently and stopped every now and then to see if I could feel anything scraping against the keel. There was no point in trying to hear it because I couldn’t hear anything. I had a constant ringing in my ears, which was very irritating. I tried to take my mind off it by concentrating on the pedalling. I also tried to imagine what we looked like from the outside, drifting silently through the dark water like a small whale towards the land.

  Forty-five minutes later I felt a bump beneath my feet. I stopped pedalling and let us drift. How I wished I could have turned on the floodlights outside to look down and see the bottom, if that’s what it was. It must have been. I took the flashlight, went to the observation window in the floor of the bow and looked down but couldn’t see anything. I climbed back on the bike and continued pedalling very slowly. Five minutes later we brushed against something again, and then we encountered resistance. I was guessing it was a sandy bottom. At least we were going in the right direction.

  I pumped a little air into the tanks, rose fifty feet, jumped back on the bike and started pedalling again. Half an hour later we scraped the bottom again. I wanted to surface to periscope depth and take a peek but couldn’t yet, just in case they had followed us. I was pretty sure they hadn’t; otherwise they would have depth-charged us again. I wouldn’t try surfacing until we were too close to land for them to blow us up.

  Two hours later we were sitting on the bottom at one hundred feet. That was shallow enough. I pumped air into the tanks and we rose to just a few feet beneath the surface. I raised the periscope. I was dying to see where we were. It was hard to believe you were even moving anywhere when you had no means of checking your progress. It was very unnerving.

  At first I saw nothing but darkness through the periscope. When I turned it a little I saw the lights of ships five to ten miles away. It was hard to tell exactly. I wondered if one of them was the frigate. I bet they had called other ships to join them. It was not every day they got to attack a submarine. Then I spun the periscope around one hundred and eighty degrees and got a fright. I was staring at a wall of lights. At first I thought they were the lights of a ship that was really close, and that they had caught us. But there were too many of them. It was a city. We were just offshore, maybe a quarter of a mile. I hoped it was Kochi. I didn’t recognize it because I had never seen it at night.

  There was so much sea traffic here we were going to get run over if we didn’t get out of the way. None of the passing ships would detect us on radar because we were under water. But we couldn’t surface and show ourselves either because the navy might spot us. What a mess! We needed a place to hide, fast, before the sun came up.

  I had to keep pedalling until I found the harbour at Kochi. If I could find the harbour, I could return to that old warehouse and hide in the boathouse. Maybe it was crazy to go back there, to the very spot where we had been discovered. On the other hand, who would ever expect us to do that? Besides, they thought we were on the bottom of the sea.

  Chapter Three

  KOCHI HARBOUR WAS FILLED with lights, like Halloween, and people running around in the dark with flashlights. We came in without a light. I could have tied a flashlight to the hatch but it would have been too weak to resemble the light of a boat and might only have drawn more attention. I had to keep climbing the portal to look out and get my bearings; the periscope wasn’t enough by itself for navigating in the dark. Without sonar a submarine is truly blind.

  But I did manage to find our way, because I had to. There was no other choice. And the gamble did pay off. No one seemed to be looking for us. No one paid us any mind as we glided into the harbour as slowly as an old wooden sailboat dragging itself in on the power of a two-stroke motor. In fact, I was pedalling as fast as I could and running up and down the ladder of the portal. I found the channel of old warehouses and steered into it. I must have climbed the ladder at least three dozen times by the time we coasted to a stop in front of the old warehouse. It looked pretty gloomy in the dark. And now the trickiest part: going inside the boathouse without the help of sonar.

  The boardwalk of the boathouse, crooked as it was, sat about a foot above the tide. Even in the dark I could see where the barnacles lined the posts. There were two hanging doors that hung over the water, like barn doors, but had been shut and sealed a very long time ago. Boards had been nailed across them. I wondered when the last boat had come inside. Why did they keep a boathouse anyway? Was it for barges or smaller boats that went up rivers? None of the sailing ships could ever have come inside; their masts wouldn’t fit.

  I brought the sub around to face the front and submerged until the portal was showing only six inches above water. I didn’t shut the hatch. Running up and down between the bicycle and portal, I pedalled us in under the hanging doors. Once we were inside the boathouse, I carried up a flashlight and had a look. It was like a barn inside, but a solid one that had only warped after hundreds of years of sun and wind and rain. On the far inside wall of the boathouse there was a door to the warehouse, but it was sealed too. I tied up the sub and carried Hollie out. Boy, was he excited! “We have to be careful, Hollie. This place is really old. Watch your step.”

  I couldn’t hear my own words. Inside my head they sounded like noises under water and far away. But Hollie heard me. He was a very cautious dog, especially when he sensed my caution. I stepped onto the boardwalk and put him down. It always felt strange to step onto ground that was not moving. It made you feel that you were still moving. Hollie must have felt it too.

  There was a rusty old padlock on the door to the warehouse. I went into the sub and brought out a hacksaw and cut it off. Then I hung it back on to look normal. I pushed open the door. Dust burst from around the edges and I felt a brush of air on my face as we entered. I smiled. It smelled like spices and rope.

  Hollie followed me in. I aimed the flashlight and saw an empty building with a balcony halfway up the walls and all the way around, and a stairway going up to it on both sides. The roof was supported by wooden arches, the kind you see in old sailing ships. That was cool. The men who built these warehouses were probably shipbuilders. I thought I felt something thump on the floor. But I couldn’t hear anything. I swung the flashlight down and saw that Hollie had jumped. Had something fallen? I looked at the floor closely and saw Hollie sniffing at a rock. I pointed the flashlight up to the roof. Could it have fallen from there? That was weird.

  We walked around and I was careful not to point the flashlight at the windows, although they were probably thick with dust. I didn’t want anyone outside to know we were here. A second rock landed on the floor close by. I felt it, and Hollie jumped again. I spun the flashlight all around but didn’t see anyone. That was strange; rocks don’t come out of nowhere. We started up one of the staircases. I could feel the wood creaking beneath my feet but couldn’t hear it. A third rock landed very close. I saw the dark shadow of it in the light of the flashlight.

  Okay, I thought, somebody is here and throwing rocks at us. I picked up the rock, hurried up the stairs and ducked behind the balcony wall. Hollie hid under my legs and we waited. Sure enough, another rock came bouncing off the wall and landed beside us. I picked it up. Now I had two. I stuck my head above the wall just enough to see over it and swung the flashlight all the way around the balcony. Suddenly I saw an arm swing into the air and another rock come thumping beside us. Well, he didn’t have very good aim, whoever he was, and he wasn’t very b
ig, judging by the size of the arm I saw. I felt like calling out, but what good would that do when I couldn’t hear anyone call back? How long was my hearing going to be lost anyway?

  Another rock came over the wall, and this time it ricocheted off the wall and hit my foot. Enough! I was afraid Hollie was going to get hit. So, I stood up, aimed the flashlight where I had seen the arm and I threw a rock there as hard as I could. I waited until I saw the arm swing again, ducked, and threw another one. Then I ran halfway around the balcony with my head down, aiming the flashlight, and threw another rock. It must have hit something or someone because I saw a figure start running away. I went in the other direction to cut him off, with a rock in my hand ready to throw.

  We met in the corner. I shone the flashlight in his eyes and he squinted and stopped. He was just a boy. He made a dash for the stairs but I caught him, knocked him to the floor and held him down. He was as light as a feather. And he was so afraid. I shone the light in his face and saw his mouth moving but couldn’t hear him. I could tell that he was really upset, but I wanted to know why he was throwing rocks at me. I held up my rock to show him. He winced and covered his face. “I’m not going to hit you,” I said, but I couldn’t tell how loud I was speaking. He looked at me strangely. “I can’t hear,” I said. I pointed to my ear and shook my head. “I can’t hear. Do you speak English? Do you understand me?”

  He nodded his head.

  “If I let you up, will you stop throwing rocks at me?”

  He nodded again, so I let him up. I held the flashlight so that we could see each other’s face. “My name is Alfred. I’m a sailor. This is my dog. His name is Hollie.”

  He looked down at Hollie and his expression changed a lot. He bent down and started patting him. Hollie was a little suspicious but his tail started wagging. The boy patted him very gently.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  He looked up at me and shrugged.

  “Are you hiding here?”

  He didn’t try to answer.

  “Do you live here?”

  He shrugged again and partly nodded his head.

  “But . . . don’t you have any family?”

  He looked up and frowned, as if it were a strange question, and shook his head. I was guessing he was maybe ten years old; it was hard to tell in the dark. I didn’t know what to do now. I didn’t want him to see the sub. There were still a couple of hours before the sun rose so I figured I’d just sit down and wait. When the sun came up, Hollie and I would go outside for a walk.

  I moved over to the wall at the top of the stairs and sat down. Hollie curled up beside me and the boy sat beside him and patted him. For a few hours we just sat there and I listened to the ringing in my ears. Maybe it was less now, I thought. I wasn’t sure. Maybe I was just getting used to it. I wondered if there was a hospital here. There had to be a hospital in Kochi. Or maybe there was one in Ernakulum. That was the newer city across the harbour. The boy would know. When the sun came up and we went outside, I would ask him.

  Finally, the sun squeezed in through dusty windows, with long golden fingers, and lit up the warehouse. It looked a lot friendlier in the morning. With wooden floor, walls and ceiling, and with iron strapping on the railings and balcony, it looked a bit like a giant sea trunk. The balcony made it look like a small theatre.

  I was excited to get outside and see India. I would take money and find a bank to change it into rupees, and then find a hospital. But I wanted to get into the sub without the boy seeing me. I didn’t know him or trust him yet, even though he seemed harmless enough. I turned towards him. He was just waking up. “Can you show me where you usually sleep?”

  He pointed to my mouth and frowned. Then he dropped his eyes. He was extremely shy, or nervous, or both.

  “Am I talking too loud?”

  He nodded with his eyes opened wide.

  “Oh. Okay. Is this better?”

  He nodded again, got up and started around the balcony. Hollie and I followed him. On the other side he pulled a board away from the wall and pointed inside. I stuck my head in and aimed the flashlight. There were pieces of cardboard, a blanket and pillow, a few cans of food and some clothes. I saw a teddy bear. He looked too old to be sleeping with a teddy bear. “How long have you lived here?”

  He put his finger to his mouth and frowned. Then he dropped his eyes again as if he were apologizing. He dropped his shoulders too. It reminded me of the way the smallest dog of a pack would cower to the bigger dogs, dropping its head and pulling its tail between its legs. He must have been afraid of me, I figured, though I had a sense that he was afraid of everyone. I tried to speak more softly.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  He shrugged. He didn’t know?

  “A year?”

  He shook his head and raised three fingers.

  “Three years?”

  He nodded. I couldn’t believe it. “Do you have any friends?”

  His mouth curled into a smile. When he smiled, his eyes sparkled.

  I convinced him to wait for me by saying I had to go pee. Hollie stayed with him as I went down the stairs and across the floor to where the door led to the boathouse. I closed it behind me, opened the hatch and climbed into the sub. I took my passport, two hundred dollars, and the tool bag for Hollie, for when he needed to be carried. I let just enough water into the tanks to lower the sub so that the top of the hatch would sit level with the surface, then climbed out and shut it. In the darkness of the boathouse you wouldn’t even know there was a submarine there unless you went looking for one.

  The boy smiled when I returned, and I asked if he would like to come outside with us. Nodding, he took my hand and led me downstairs. There was another set of stairs that led into a semi-basement. We entered a small tunnel that was probably a sewer. We had to crouch down. The tunnel went about thirty feet towards the channel. There was a grate sealing it, but the boy swung it open just enough for us to squeeze through. Then we climbed the bank and stood up in the brilliant early morning sunshine. I looked around in wonder. We were in India.

  Chapter Four

  THE SUN WAS HOT ON my skin but not a burning heat. It felt like a heat you could get used to. The ground was warm, as if it were made for sitting on and lying down on and never feeling cold, at least not here in the extreme south of India, where it was always hot. Every country had its own feeling, it seemed to me. I liked the feeling of India already.

  I think that Hollie liked it too. He seemed calmer, more relaxed and more reflective than before. There was something in the air here—the heat maybe, or the sun, or the smell of the land—that fired my imagination. Everything looked so different from everywhere else, and felt so different. And the feeling was pleasant.

  I had to find a bank and a hospital. And we had to find Seaweed. Well, actually, Seaweed would find us. There was no way in the world we could find him. All we had to do was stay out in the open until he spotted us. Seaweed could find a speck of rice on a sandy beach, and it wouldn’t take him long.

  I followed the boy down the road. We passed more empty warehouses and some houses. It was early but there were people outside already. Mothers were washing clothes and their children. The children stood naked while their mothers scrubbed them down with soap, then emptied buckets of water over their heads. Some kids were using the bathroom outside in front of everyone. That was weird. Then I noticed some people waking up on the ground. They had slept underneath blankets and newspaper. They stared at us as we passed. I tried not to stare back. But some people waved and I waved back. Hollie stared at everybody.

  I asked the boy his name but couldn’t figure out what he was saying, even when I tried to read his lips. I asked him if he knew where a bank was. He nodded. Was it open early? He shook his head. How about a hospital? He thought about it for a while, then nodded. I asked about a restaurant. His eyes lit up and he grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I freed my hand and followed him.

  He led me to a corner in the
road where a group of men were standing around a small portable food stand. I saw steam rising from a stainless steel container. The men looked old and tired but they smiled at us. They greeted the boy in a friendly way and wanted to shake my hand. One man slapped me on my shoulder in a warm and welcoming way. I pointed to my ear and shook my head. They looked sorry and nodded their heads. Then the man behind the stand took a ladle and scooped a hot brown liquid into two small cups. He offered them to us. I watched the boy take one with two hands, bring it to his mouth and sip it. He closed his eyes and smiled. So, I did the same. Then I smiled too because it was probably the best drink I had ever tasted. It was hot tea with lots of cinnamon, sugar, nutmeg and milk. It was so rich!

  I asked the boy to tell them that I would return with money after we went to the bank. They shook their heads and said no, no money. The boy looked at me and shook his head too. I wondered if these were the friends he had smiled about. I thanked them and we followed the road to where the Chinese fishing nets were.

  There was something hypnotic about watching the big nets swing down into the water and rise with fish in them. Half a dozen men worked each one while other men just stood around and watched. The nets never came up empty. I looked at the faces of the men who were watching. They must have seen this a thousand times yet they seemed fascinated still. I noticed there were no women here. I had seen women only at the washing. I tried to imagine my grandfather here. He wouldn’t do it because he liked to work alone. He would respect it though, because it was a good method. It produced results. He just wouldn’t want to do it himself.

  When the bank opened, we were the first ones there. I put Hollie inside the mesh tool bag and hung it over my shoulder. He liked it and was used to being carried in it. It had a wooden frame and was just big enough for him to ride inside comfortably. He could see out but no one could see in unless they stood next to him and stared closely.