Disowned

by Tikiri

Katy and I looked at each other in alarm.

  “Dick?” I said in a hoarse whisper.

  “You know these dudes?” The café man pointed in the direction of the voices. “These guys have been hogging my smoking spot for hours.” He bent down to light his cigarette. “What a bunch of asses,” he said through his teeth.

  “They’re inside the truck?” I asked in a low voice.

  “Not inside. In front of it,” the man said, handing the lighter back to Katy. “Thanks, eh.”

  I tiptoed around the truck and peeked. There was a large “No Smoking” sign over a wooden bench, right in front of the great big truck concealing our van. Sitting at this outdoor makeshift boardroom under a cloud of cigarette smoke were Dick, Jose, and a third man, a thin man with a dark complexion wearing a brand-new Rambo T-shirt. My heart jumped to my throat.

  Franky? I stared at him in shock. What’s he doing here? Oh my god.

  “They didn’t even leave a tip,” I heard the café man say behind me. “Cheap bastards. Hey, you gals wanna join me for a smoke? I have two more in my pocket. Maybe we can go kick those guys out.” He waved his broom menacingly in their direction.

  “No, thanks,” I said quickly, giving Katy a warning look.

  “We’d love to,” Katy said, giving him one of her sweet smiles. “Gotta get our coffee fix first.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, sauntering back toward the café. I waited until he was out of sight and motioned to Katy to join me. We crouched down low next to the truck, straining our ears.

  “You almost fired that chick! If I hadn’t stopped you, we’d not even be here!” That was Jose’s voice, and that was the first time I’d heard him use the word chick. What happened to “these lovely ladies”?

  “I was the one who got them in the first place. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be kissing this commission goodbye!” Dick snapped. “You owe me for that.”

  “It was my idea to turn your cigarette and crack-smuggling business into a baking business,” replied an angry Jose. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d have been screwed as hell the first time an inspector checked out that kitchen of yours. It’d be your fat ass in the big house right about now.”

  Katy and I looked at each other with wide eyes. Crack-smuggling? Is that why Dick had such a big kitchen? I remembered the dirty chemistry equipment stashed away on the top shelves, shelves I couldn’t reach and had never opened except the first day I’d explored the kitchen. I also remembered how things mysteriously moved around at night. Is that what they did at night at the bakery?

  “What and how I run my business is none of your business,” Dick said. “I kept everything respectable. I even got us a baking gig with my church.”

  “I got a gig with the federal government. Beat that!” Jose snapped.

  “I did all the work around here until you came strutting, so shut the hell up.”

  “The hell I will. I’m the one who loaned you money so you don’t have to close up shop. You were so happy I came to save you from your money screwups, you didn’t even mind me sleeping with your chick!”

  I felt Katy give a start next to me. I leaned over and squeezed her shoulder.

  “If I hadn’t hired the girl, both of you wouldn’t be here now. I treated her good and even taught her how to bake. I need the bigger commission.”

  Taught me how to bake? Dick couldn’t boil an egg to save his life. I peeked around the corner. Though he was giving a good fight, Dick looked a little scared of Jose.

  “Okay, okay, very good, please, good gentlemen. Let us not fight. We can solve this in the most civilized fashion.”

  My stomach turned. That was Franky, overly polite and scheming nasty, as usual. I felt nauseous. I wanted to run out, shake him, slap him and scream at him and ask what he did to my cousin Preeti and Aunty Shilpa. I glared with dagger eyes from behind the truck. I should have never trusted that hyena face.

  “Listen to me, most respectable gentlemen. My man in India wants a good visa, and for that, we need the girl. He’s in hurry to get out, and he will pay good money.” My memory clicked. It was his voice I’d heard over the phone, disguised, screened with a cloth or something. That was why I hadn’t recognized it at first. My heart sank to my stomach. Katy must have noticed because she reached over and squeezed my shoulder.

  “How much?” Jose asked.

  “You give me girl in good condition, and I give you two percent.”

  “Two percent! You take us for morons, man?” Jose banged his palm on the table. I hadn’t realized how much of a Jekyll and Hyde he was—sugar and sweetness to our faces, a nightmare behind our backs.

  “No, no. I have utmost respect for you,” Franky said, his voice sweeter than gulab jamun sprinkled with gold. “As you can understand, I have to give a cut to Mrs. Rao as well, you know. She’s the one who arranged to find the girl, and that cost her money. She will tell you this herself, but she is not well today.”

  “That’s her problem,” Dick muttered. “She took her time, didn’t she? Took her months to find the girl while she was working for me. I could have used this money sooner, I tell ya.”

  “You know, we have to be cautious in this business,” Franky said, giving that genial Indian head nod. “Mrs. Rao only knew where the girl was when she went to that Indian embassy party and saw the cakes. We also wanted to make sure police is not watching, and I wanted to find the man who will pay good money for the girl. All this took time. Patience is virtue, as they say.”

  “Just give us a decent deal, man,” Jose said. “I’ve been in this business for years. You can’t fool me. I can get a Russian chick for nothing and sell her in Morocco for five grand. Now, that’s good money.”

  I heard a gasp from Katy.

  “Is that what you been getting from those sleazy Russian bride catalogs?” Dick said with a leer in his voice.

  “None of your goddamn business,” Jose growled. He turned back to Franky. “If I help anyone to come over here, I charge them no less than a hundred grand—two grand for the girl and the rest for the visa. Easy-peasy. That’s what I’m negotiating for the redhead.”

  Katy jerked back like she’d been slapped. She clutched my arm tightly, her face a ghostly white.

  “How could he?” she asked in a whisper. “How could he?”

  I was speechless. I’d never fully trusted Jose, but this was too much.

  “My man can only offer seventy,” Franky was saying. “Five hundred for the girl and the rest for the visa. Very good deal, no?”

  Five hundred dollars? That’s what I’m worth? I glared at the men who were haggling our lives like used cars.

  “Peanuts!” Jose said.

  “Highway robbery!” Dick said.

  “Indian men aren’t that rich, misters,” Franky said. “This is not an Arab sheik. This is poor village man who worked very hard to save money to come abroad. He’s a good family man, you know, with a a wife and six kids to feed. Think about that, please.”

  “For a man who’s rustled up enough to come here on a fake marriage license, he must have very good reasons for leaving the country,” Dick said with a smirk. “So who’s this bugger, Franky? Big shot in Indian Mafia? Crooked Indian politician?”

  “I am just the honest middle man. I cater to demand and supply. I don’t ask any questions.”

  “Enough,” Jose said. “We’re quibbling over chicken feed. Let’s close this deal, gentlemen. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than these girls.”

  “Such as?” Dick asked, giving his partner a suspicious look.

  Ignoring Dick, Jose turned to Franky. “I’m glad to have met you Franky, because I think you’re just the right man for a new job I need to do.”

  “What kind of job?” Franky asked, equally suspicious.

  “What are you talking about now, Jose?” Dick asked.

  Jose gave a quick wink to Dick as if to say, I’ve got this. “I need a fast and secret UPS service to South Asia, no questions asked. I need to get packages from Colombia,
also no questions asked. So what I need is someone who can make visas, passports, and travel arrangements for a few people who can deliver these packages for me. Your line of work, no?”

  Franky was silent for a few moments. “I help move people for work and girls for marriage,” he said slowly. “I don’t do drug business. That’s dirty work.”

  “What the hell!” Jose exploded like a grenade. Katy and I crouched lower behind the truck. “Are you calling me dirty? Are you—”

  “No sir! You misunderstand me at the utmost!” Franky said, waving his arms in protest. “Please, please.”

  “Keep it down, you idiots,” Dick said, “or we’ll all be in real trouble.”

  Franky looked around him as if searching for something. “Look, what I mean to say, sir, is girls are cheap and easy to manage. No one takes them seriously even when they run to police. What you’re proposing now, this business is much more difficult. Much more dangerous. It will be much work, and it will cost me a lot more.”

  “How come?” Jose growled. “Instead of people, it’s packages. Should be even cheaper for you.”

  “I have to give big cuts to my connections at the borders, at the airports, and to the police. This is a very big and costly operation, you know sir, and not such a fast-fast job. I can’t afford to pay more and more, and your proposal is going to be super sensitive and super expensive. That is all I am saying, sir.”

  “If you can figure out the logistics, I’ll pay for these extra steps you have to make,” Jose said in his best business voice.

  Silence as Franky contemplated the offer.

  “All you have to do is take care of the supply chain logistics,” Jose added. “For that, I’ll give you fifteen percent. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Franky said, without a smile. “And I’ll take the girl for four hundred.”

  Chapter Fifty-two

  I tugged at Katy’s sleeve. “We’ve got to get out of here,” I whispered.

  She didn’t budge. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her face had now turned a deep, dark red.

  “They’ll be done soon,” I said, nudging her.

  “All I wanna do right now,” she said, her voice quivering, “is go over and slap that lying man.” I’d never seen her this angry before. I didn’t realize she could get angry. “He was playing me all along, and now he wants to sell me?”

  “Shhhh, Katy.” I pulled her up by the shoulders. “If they find us, we’re dead.”

  “So we let them play with us like this? Treat us like, like—animals?”

  “No, no.” I shook my head and motioned her to keep her voice down. “I’ve got a plan.”

  “I’ve got one too,” Katy said loudly.

  I cringed. “Shhh.”

  “I’ve had it with being nice. I’m gonna kill him.”

  “No!” I pulled her away from the truck. “Please get in the van. We’ve got to leave.” But Katy had shrugged me off and was marching toward the café’s back doors. I watched her, puzzled. She grabbed the café guy’s broomstick, which had been leaning against the side of the building, and turned to me with a venomous look on her face.

  I ran toward her. “Katy, stop! Whatever you’re thinking right now, it’s not a good idea. Please listen to me.”

  “I told him I loved him yesterday. How stupid was that, huh?” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  I put my hands on her shoulders. “I totally understand, and I’m so sorry, Katy, but right now, right now, we’ve really got to get outta here.”

  Just then, I heard footsteps around the corner, and Ashok’s face popped around the building. We stared at him. He stared back at us. His eyes widened when he saw me. He pointed a silent finger at me and started to wave frantically.

  “Shhhh.” I put a finger to my lips. I knew he was mute, but at that moment, he looked like he was about to yell out to the world. “Please don’t say a word, Ashok.”

  “You!” Katy snapped. “You’re in this racket too? Trying to sell us? How much is your cut?” She waved the broom at him. Ashok took a step back, his mouth open, confused.

  “You disgusting, nasty piece of… I’m gonna start with you!” With her red hair frizzed up and the pointy broomstick in her hand, she looked like a madwoman on the war path. Ashok’s face went white.

  Before I knew it, she lunged at him. I saw him duck, but I didn’t wait to find out what happened next. I looked around for our best way out. I didn’t dare return to our van, as it was too close to where the men were congregated. They’d probably heard us scuffling and were already coming this way. Then I remembered Ashok always left the car keys in the ignition.

  I didn’t wait another second. I ran to the Rover, yanked the door open, and jumped in. Shoot. I’d forgotten Mrs. Rao’s Jeep had manual transmission. The only times I’d driven this were to take it in and out of the garage to clean it. In total, I must have driven it exactly ten yards. But this was not the time to think of trivial things.

  I pressed the clutch to start the engine. I can do this. I can do this. The engine turned and just as quickly shuddered to a stop. Behind me, I heard crashing and banging. A car alarm went off and it sounded like a riot had begun. One more time. With my heart beat wildly, and praying that Katy was okay, I pressed down on the clutch and tried the ignition once again. It took three tries for the Jeep to purr to life.

  From the side view mirror, I saw Ashok turn toward the Jeep, his arms waving frantically, with Katy in hot pursuit, the broom still in her hand. His mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. I swung the steering wheel and gunned the Jeep toward Katy, almost hitting Ashok. I slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop.

  “Get in, Katy!” I shouted. “Now!”

  Katy jumped in and slammed the door shut.

  “That did it,” she said in a satisfied voice.

  I glanced quickly at her hands and face. No blood. Thank god. I slammed the accelerator, throwing both of us against our seats. Through the rearview mirror, I saw Ashok jumping up and down, waving his arms maniacally. I lurched across the parking lot, and his frantic face disappeared in our dust.

  I got us onto the road before I started breathing again. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Good. Real good.” Katy’s voice was smug. She threw the broom in the backseat and buckled up.

  I kept my focus on the road and on maneuvering this beast of a car. My hands were shaking, and I was having a hard time keeping the steering wheel steady.

  “What happened back there?” I asked, when we’d finally put the café well behind us. I still kept one eye in front and the other on the rearview mirror to make sure we weren’t being followed.

  Silence.

  I glanced at Katy to see her smiling. What’s she so smug about?

  “Did you hit Ashok?”

  “I didn’t touch him.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  “He wouldn’t know how to, even if he wanted to.”

  “What was all the noise then?”

  “I smashed Jose’s lights and mirrors.”

  “You did what?”

  “All of them. Then, I scratched his doors. All of them.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “He’ll have bigger things to worry about than my fingerprints now.”

  “Wow.”

  “Should have done it yesterday. If I had more time, I’d have smashed his windows too.”

  I’d never seen this side of her before.

  A nervous giggle escaped her lips.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” I said, letting out a nervous laugh.

  “Me neither!” She giggled some more. I laughed out loud, and soon we were both convulsing with laughter and tears, a release from all the tension.

  “So where are we going now?” Katy asked, wiping her eyes.

  “Home.”

  “Then what?”

  “We’re going to pack our bags. Grab my cash and our passports,” I said, bolting through a yellow light, holding on to the steering wheel with a
death grip.

  “Passports?”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, maneuvering around a yellow cone on the side of the road.

  “Why passports?”

  “Did you get yours for your Mexican trip? Please say yes.”

  “Sure. Last week,” Katy said. “Why?”

  “Good.” That was one major hurdle out of the way.

  “Why do we need passports?”

  I’d just pulled up to a four-way stop sign when the car decided to shudder to a complete halt. “Darn, darn, darn!” I said, shifting through the gears, looking for neutral. I pressed the clutch and turned the engine over again. The car jerked back to life and we lurched through the intersection, sweat pouring down my back.

  “Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick,” Katy said, holding the door handle with both hands. “Stop the car.”

  “This thing’s hell to drive. If I stop now, we’ll be stuck forever,” I said. “You can throw up inside.”

  “Asha!” Katy said. “Why do we need passports? Tell me!”

  “Because we’re going to India.”

  “India?”

  Katy was silent for a full minute. I hoped she wasn’t going to be sick.

  “My passport’s on my desk,” she said in a quiet voice. “At the bakery.”

  “Oh, no!”

  I had no choice. I swerved the car around, making an illegal U-turn, and headed toward the bakery, a few minutes from where we were. With my heart pounding, I screeched to a halt right in front of the store. Other than one car at the pawn shop next door, there were no other cars or people.

  “Hurry!” I said. “Hurry!”

  Katy had already opened the door, and was running out. I maneuvered the Jeep around to face the street so Katy could jump in and we could dash out. This way, I also had a good view of the street and anyone coming our way. I waited, the car running, my fingers drumming on the wheel, ready to gun it as soon as Katy got back. Why’s she taking so long?

  That was when it dawned on me. I had cash for only one ticket to Goa with a bit left over. How were we going to pay for Katy’s ticket? I turned off the engine and ran inside.

  “Hey!” Katy jumped when she saw me.