JOHNNY GONE DOWN

by Bajaj, Karan

  I shook my head. ‘I was too hungry to feel anything, I guess.’

  He seemed to like that and made a note in the small diary he had with him.

  That was probably the only note he made during the course of our conversation. I disappointed him the rest of the time with a series of ‘I don’t know… I didn’t feel anything… it’s hard to explain,’ while Sam shook with silent laughter on the couch.

  ‘You didn’t feel anything when you lost your entire business in Brazil?’ Amar said, sounding exasperated. ‘You went from a hundred million dollars to zero in one minute for no fault of your own. Surely you were angry.’

  ‘At whom?’ I said. ‘I was the outsider. I fully understand their motives for doing what they did.’ I paused. ‘Look, I know I’m being of no help, but you have to understand. Things happened so fast that I thought nothing; I felt nothing; I just did what I could to keep afloat at that time. The anger only came later, and it was directed wholly at myself.’

  He looked at me blankly.

  ‘Thank you for your time, sir,’ he said finally. ‘You are an inspiration.’

  For a star he was quite a decent guy, I thought.

  He got up to leave and paused for a minute. ‘Sir, I have one suggestion for you and please take it the right way.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said.

  ‘I think you should change your name.’

  ‘My name?’ I repeated in surprise.

  He nodded. ‘As soon as I added an extra R and an extra K to my name, all my films became superhits. The audience doesn’t even notice that my name is Amarr Kkumar now, but the gods have noticed.’

  ‘Why an extra R and K and not something else?’ I asked.

  ‘My numerologist suggested it after consulting all my charts,’ he said.

  I must have looked sceptical because he added, ‘I know it sounds silly, sir, but who knows how God works? Who really knows the mysterious secrets of the universe? After all, everything around us is fundamentally incomprehensible, isn’t it?’

  I recalled hearing or saying those words sometime in my past, but I couldn’t remember when.

  ‘If an extra Y can change fate, then Y not?’ He grinned at his own joke.

  So be it, I thought. But with my kind of luck, extra Rs, Ks and Ys wouldn’t do the trick. I needed to change my whole name, and I wouldn’t even need to consult a numerologist. Any name would bring better luck. I tried thinking of a new name as Alisa escorted Amar Kumar out of the room.

  ‘Nick, you idiot, you aren’t seriously thinking of adding Ns, Ks, or As to your name, are you?’ said Sam. ‘You are an MIT graduate for heaven’s sake!’

  The screen credits of a Dev Anand movie began to roll on the television in front of me.

  ‘Who’s Nick?’ I said. ‘I am Johnny. From today, Johnny mera naam. So, you were saying?’

  ‘I need to head out,’ I said.

  Sam and I were sitting in the living room as usual, after the children had gone to bed. He was scanning the business dailies, peppering it with the occasional ‘bastards’ and ‘cocksuckers’. I was staring into space, my mind empty of thought, yet too preoccupied to concentrate on anything.

  ‘Sure, Johnny boy,’ he said without looking up from the newspaper. ‘Sutta-chai?’

  He picked up the intercom on the table to call the driver.

  ‘No, I mean, I need to get out of your house and start my own life,’ I said.

  He put down the newspaper.

  ‘Why are you running away again?’ he said.

  ‘I’m not running away,’ I said. ‘It’s been a couple of weeks already. How long can a forty-year-old man live in someone’s guest bedroom?’

  ‘Is space an issue? I could easily add another floor to the house. Let me get started on the plans tomorrow before…’

  ‘No, no,’ I interrupted. ‘This is like the Taj Mahal compared to where I’ve been before. Seriously, I have really enjoyed being here and being so carefree and silly once again, but I need to move on now.’

  ‘What’s the hurry?’ he said. ‘Take some more time to recover and figure out what you want to do next.’

  ‘It’s been a few weeks already, Sam,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I’ve recovered as much as I can.’

  ‘Are you ready to date again?’ he asked. ‘That’s the real measure of recovery.’

  ‘Then I won’t recover in this lifetime.’

  ‘I know several actresses. You name one and…’

  I held up my hand. ‘It’s demeaning to have this discussion. I don’t want to love again. I can’t love again. And I’ve spent so much time alone that I won’t have any problem spending time by myself.’

  ‘Why do you want to go then, Johnny boy? Just be alone by yourself in your room.’

  ‘Feeling very funny today, aren’t you?’ I said.

  ‘I can’t lose you again,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘Despite Liz, despite the kids, I lived with this vacuum all my life until you showed up.’

  ‘That sounds really gay.’

  ‘If something happens again, I won’t be able to forgive myself.’

  ‘That’s my point,’ I said. ‘Something will happen again. Disaster doesn’t leave my side for long. You have to understand that this isn’t like the movies, Sam. Those people whose Russian roulette thing I screwed up are the South American mafia. I know what they are capable of. The cartel will strike like a viper as soon as things get cold. And I’m not an Amar Kumar who can beat ten baddies with a flick of my little finger. I can’t put your family in danger.’

  ‘You forget that I have the best security team in Delhi,’ he said. ‘All of them are ex-police and goons.’

  ‘Trust me, you don’t know these guys. I’ve seen them in action,’ I said. ‘I’ve been awake every night with the Glock in my hand, waiting for them to come.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind, Johnny boy? Nothing can happen here.’

  ‘You haven’t seen what I have,’ I said. ‘They strike when it’s cold, and it’s starting to get cold now.’

  ‘And you’d rather be alone than with this security cover?’

  I nodded. ‘I’ve been trained by the best.’

  I didn’t mention that no matter what I did or which security cover protected me, I’d be eliminated. Sooner or later, everybody with a hit on their name was executed. You could run from yourself but you couldn’t run from the cartel - especially if you’d screwed them twice. My only wish was to protect Sam’s family. The assassins were honourable people, but eliminating all witnesses was the first rule in the book.

  ‘I need to think about this,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk tomorrow.’

  ‘Listen, Mr Studio Boss, I am not Amar Kumar asking you for permission to re-shoot a song sequence in Switzerland,’ I said. ‘I’m informing you that I am leaving tomorrow.’

  ‘Please give me time to think about this, Mr Johnny,’ he said. ‘Please can we talk tomorrow, Sir Johnny?’

  I nodded reluctantly.

  It was midnight when I went back to my room and prepared myself for another sleepless night. The Glock, always a companion, went from the back pocket of my jeans to a small fold I had cut out in the mattress. I positioned light rubber-soled shoes next to the bed and lay down with my eyes wide open, alert for the sudden, silent thud of a security guard falling outside or the soft, quiet scratch on the tall patio windows facing the garden. If I told Sam about my nightly drill, he would laugh it away as being obsessive - and perhaps it was, but then the New York Times Manhattan headquarters paled in comparison to Rio de Janeiro’s Jakeira favela as a training ground in contract killings.

  Twelve a.m. One a.m. Two a.m. Another uneventful night, I thought, with a slight tinge of regret. I was no stranger to waiting in the darkness for nothing, but sometimes I wished it would happen quickly. If only they knew I had no desire to harm them, they probably wouldn’t waste so much time in preparation. All I wanted was to face them before they ran into anyone else in the house, pretend to fight, and get mowed
into blood and dust - alone. I had accumulated enough bad karma in one lifetime to be born an insect for the next ten; shooting a few more people wouldn’t really help my karmic cause.

  Three a.m. Time to drift off. A lease of life for another day, I thought, stretching out on the bed. And then I heard it. A soft movement of the sofa, a body bumping into another. They were here. I put my well-orchestrated drill into action with tense excitement. In a few seconds, I was downstairs, waiting behind the mahogany staircase, the gun pressing against my palm. A few silent seconds passed. I listened, every nerve end alert, and tightened my grip around the Glock. It would probably go unused tonight unless they decided to go after Sam’s family, in which case I would empty it out on them.

  Suddenly, I heard the click of a lamp being switched on and a portion of the living room lit up with soft yellow light.

  This wasn’t like them, I thought urgently, they worked in darkness. What the hell was happening?

  Revolver in hand, I rushed out into the open.

  ‘Jesus Christ, keep that damn thing down, will you?’ Sam shrieked. He was sitting on the sofa with a laptop. He stared open-mouthed at me, his eyes wide with terror. ‘What the fuck, man, can’t you ever relax?’

  I took a few deep breaths and put the revolver in my back pocket.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said evenly. ‘Why are you up so early? I thought they were here.’

  ‘I almost died from a heart attack,’ he said, his face still flushed with fear. ‘Why are you up this early?’

  ‘I told you, I can’t sleep,’ I said.

  ‘Oh yeah, Johnny boy, well, you can sleep now. You can buy all the peace in the world and then some more.’

  I looked at him, puzzled.

  ‘You are a psycho, Johnny boy. Another Life is the coolest thing ever, especially for middle-aged men with diminishing libidos. I just banged a couple of chicks this morning. I haven’t felt more alive in years.’

  ‘How the hell…’ I muttered.

  ‘The website is live now!’ he said. ‘Check it out. You made a cool hundred million dollars or so on it. That guy Philip has been saying in all the interviews that he is desperately searching for you. They are talking about you as some kind of urban legend; a mad scientist who stalks homeless shelters stealthily - like Bigfoot or the Yeti or something.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked, still confused.

  ‘I had put my media team on the job of tracking mentions of Another Life and checking websites which came up with that or variations of that name. The launch press conference just happened around midnight India time and the website went live immediately after that. I would have called you if I knew you were playing night-watchman. Check it out, will you?’

  I let the news sink in.

  ‘Here, let me open the website for you,’ said Sam.

  I didn’t know how to react. I was happy for Philip, but I didn’t want any part of that madness again. Not just Another Life; everything - MIT, Brazil, Cambodia, Minnesota. I wanted to move on, cut off all ties with my past, pretend that it had all happened to someone who no longer existed.

  ‘Why are you standing there with your hands on your hips like Shilpa Shetty?’ said Sam. ‘Come on, check out the website.’

  I didn’t budge.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ said Sam. ‘You should be jumping with excitement.’

  ‘It’s over, it’s the past. I don’t want to think about it.’

  ‘Don’t be a dick. Stop running away from yourself. All of this is you, you can’t not think about it.’

  ‘Thanks for the free psychiatric consultation, but no thanks.’

  ‘At least call Philip. I’ve read his interviews and he seems very emotional about you. Don’t do to him what you did to me.’

  ‘I want to protect him,’ I said.

  ‘Balls! The only one you are protecting is yourself,’ said Sam. ‘Face the past, else you’ll always be a victim. Plus, you did nothing wrong. You are a hero.’

  ‘Don’t get started on that.’

  ‘Just pick up the damn phone, will you?’ Sam exclaimed. ‘You need to come to terms with things.’

  I called Philip despite the knot in my stomach. In his own way, Sam was right. I could never be at peace until I accepted my failures, apologized to everyone I had hurt, and grovelled for some kind of forgiveness.

  ‘Hi, Philip, it’s Nick,’ I said in a rush as soon as he picked up the phone.

  ‘Nick! Is that really you? Tell me it’s you.’

  ‘It is me. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry - ‘

  ‘Nick, boy, why the hell did you disappear?’ Philip cut me off. He sounded more concerned than angry. ‘You didn’t mention anything about your whereabouts in the letter, and there wasn’t even a return address on the box that computer came in.’

  ‘Philip, I am really, really sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what came over me. After everything you did for me, I deserted…’

  ‘Stop, for god’s sake,’ said Philip. ‘I’m the one who is sorry. I know I pressured you too much with the one-week deadline, so you bolted. I searched and searched for you, kept waiting for your call, but there was nothing. Eventually, I contacted the VCs myself, and of course, they bought it immediately. We have more money now than we ever dreamt of, even though I think I undersold it because I didn’t fully understand the technology. I need to apologize to you for that.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologize for anything,’ I said. ‘I’m the one who screwed…’

  ‘By the way,’ he interrupted. ‘There is someone else who is looking for you desperately.’

  Had they traced me already? Eventually, their path would lead here. As if one wasn’t enough, now I would have two mafia groups duking it out to get me.

  ‘Who?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve forgotten his name. He scared me because he kept calling me a faggot and said he would shoot me through the phone if I didn’t quickly find out where you were. He spoke in a funny accent. I would peg him as a Spaniard.’

  ‘Marco!’ I said.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said Philip excitedly. ‘That’s his name. Please get him off my back if you can. He scares me.’

  My heart sank. Why was Marco trying to contact me when we had agreed not to speak for five years?

  Something had happened to Lara. He would never contact me otherwise.

  ‘We need to talk about the money transfer,’ said Philip. ‘It’s a lot, so you will need to create multiple accounts in multiple banks…’

  ‘Later, Philip. I need to rush now,’ I said. ‘Thanks for everything.’

  I put down the phone.

  ‘That wasn’t too bad, was it?’ said Sam, smiling at me. His look quickly changed to one of astonishment. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Now what has happened?’

  ‘Something has happened to Lara.’

  ‘What? How? When?’

  ‘I’m going to find out,’ I said and dialled Marco’s number.

  He picked it up at the first ring.

  ‘Marco!’ I said. ‘Are you okay? Is Lara safe? Why did you try to contact me?’

  ‘Buddha, finally,’ he said softly, a voice ashamed to show emotion. ‘I’ve been worried. You shouldn’t have fucked with him.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, unexpected tears welling up in my eyes. ‘It’s a long story.’

  Marco laughed and my spirits lifted. It couldn’t be all that bad if he was laughing, could it?

  ‘I know the story, men. Why do you think you are still alive? He would have found you in a day. All of us from Brazil to Peru to Chile to Ecuador to Venezuela to Colombia are working for him in a way,’ said Marco. ‘But it worked out well, actually.’

  ‘What worked out well?’ I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  ‘I struck a deal to give him ten years of free distribution in Brazil without taking a commission, besides expanding from coke to crack, speed, meth and acid. He agreed to get the Godmother off your back as well if I deli
ver.’

  This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted peace, but not at Marco’s expense.

  ‘Don’t do it, Marco,’ I said. ‘You will get into big trouble.’

  ‘I am trouble, men,’ he said, the usual cowboy bravado returning to his voice. ‘This is a blessing in disguise. I’ve expanded the business significantly since you left, and this will take me to the next level. Just like the retail stores, right? It will take a while to break even, but then the profits will pour in.’

  I knew this was no business decision. What had I done to deserve such friendship? I was a fundamentally flawed person who wrecked lives wherever he went. I didn’t deserve such unconditional love.

  ‘Pay him off, Marco. I have all the money in the world and then some more,’ I said, thinking of Another Life. But I knew it wouldn’t work even as I said it.

  ‘Rather than interfere with my future plans, do you want to plan your future with your wife instead?’

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to speak to her. I didn’t trust that the Colombian mafia would let me go. I didn’t believe that the handler, whom I had humiliated in front of his customers, would forgive and forget. I didn’t want to re-enter her life and destroy it again.

  ‘Are you there, men?’ he said. ‘We’ve both been trying to track you down since I agreed to his terms a couple of weeks ago. You move fast, don’t you? Every time we reached somewhere, you were already off. Here, speak to her. She is pissed off.’

  She deserves better than me, I thought. We had taught each other love; she would love again. I wanted to put down the phone but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  ‘Nikhil,’ she whispered at the other end.

  I began to cry, my mind a confused jumble of emotions.

  ‘Lara,’ I said softly.

  ‘You silly man, you silly, silly man,’ she said. ‘Couldn’t you have told me once? Did you really think I could just move on after all these years?’

  ‘Lara,’ I repeated.

  ‘I love you, Nikhil.’

  I waited for the joy to envelop me, but I felt nothing except a growing unease. It had taken just a couple of hours, and everything had resolved itself. It was too easy, too perfect, too neat - and I didn’t trust it. It couldn’t be over. I had been deceived in the past before. There was a shadow lurking somewhere in the corner.