Disowned

by Tikiri

  “How much is in the safe?” I asked.

  “What safe?”

  I pulled her by the elbow into the office and pointed at the safe on which Jim had now settled himself, having a nap.

  “We need more money,” I said. “Do you have the combination for this?”

  She gave me a wide-eyed look. But only for a moment. Within seconds, her fingers were deftly maneuvering the lock, much to the annoyance of Jim. The lock clicked, we pushed Jim off, and opened the door. We peered in. Inside were papers, envelopes and plastic packets.

  “Drug money,” Katy whispered. “That’s what this is.”

  I picked up the packet on top and unzipped it open.

  “Oh my god,” I said, staring at the contents.

  “Wow,” Katy said.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  She banged the safe door shut, making Jim squawk, and we ran outside. Soon, we were speeding across the parking lot and onto the road.

  We drove silently for a while, Katy lost in her thoughts, me focusing on my driving.

  “Wanna see?” I heard her say, after a few minutes.

  “What?”

  A wad of hundred-dollar bills fluttered in front of my face. I almost bumped into the car in front of us.

  “How much is there?” I asked.

  “Twenty grand.”

  “Twenty thousand dollars?” My throat went dry.

  “This is back pay,” Katy said, with a grim look on her face. “Do you know how long I worked for less than minimum wage for those asses? It was you and me that kept the bakery running. They used us like slaves.”

  I was speechless. I kept my focus on the road, trying not to think too much. Do you get jail time for stealing from criminals? Stealing money tainted with crack and who knows what else?

  “Oh my god,” I said, suddenly realizing what we’d done. “We’re going to the airport. We’re going to an airport, Katy!”

  “So?”

  “Take a thousand for your ticket and throw the rest out with that packet. Throw it to the side of the road or something. We can’t take that through security.”

  With a huff, Katy stuffed the money back in the packet, zipped it up and slipped it into her jacket. “Dick uses these packets to take money when he flies,” she said, “I know because I used to pack his suitcase for him. Security won’t catch it. This might even be X-ray proof.”

  “Are you sure of that?” I asked. “Do you know what they’ll do to us if they find out we’re carrying that?” I had enough problems with my fake visa. I didn’t need this extra worry.

  “I don’t think they’ll find out. Actually, I’m sure of it.” Katy sounded super confident. She’s still seething over what she heard, I thought. She’s keeping this money just to get back at the men.

  “This is a lot less than what they’re planning to sell us for,” she said, as if reading my mind. “This is our blood money.”

  “Blood money?”

  “We’re keeping it.”

  There was no use arguing, and I had other things to take care of at the moment.

  As soon as we got to our apartment building, we dashed upstairs. I pulled the shoe box out from under the bed where I’d squirreled away all the commissions I’d earned so far. I counted my money—my hard-earned, legal money. There was just enough for one ticket to Goa, but that was it.

  “Ready.” Katy was standing in front of me with a carry-on sized suitcase filled to bursting. “Since Mexico’s out, why not India? I’m up for wherever now.”

  “That’s the spirit.” I turned to look at her. Her hair was tangled like a ball of flame over her head. Her face looked tired. We were both being traded to unknown men like cheap cars, but at least I hadn’t fallen in love with the man who was planning to sell me. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Just don’t mention his name, okay?” she said.

  “Promise.”

  I stuffed as many clothes as I could into my backpack, zipped it up, and tucked the envelope of money in the front pocket. We raced back down the stairs and into the Rover. This time, I got it right the first time. The engine started without a hitch, and we dashed off in the direction of the airport.

  “Can you check for flights?” I asked Katy once we were on the road.

  She pulled out her phone and started clicking, muttering to herself.

  “Is Islamabad in India?”

  “Um…” I was preoccupied with passing a truck on the road.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Katy said, swiping the screen.

  “No! That’s a whole different country.”

  “Okay, okay. What then?”

  “Try Delhi—D-E-L-H-I. Or Mumbai. M-U-M-B-A-I.”

  “There’s a flight today to Mumbai, but I don’t know if they have any seats,” Katy mumbled to herself. “Maybe if you stopped jerking around, I’d be able to read my phone.”

  The Land Rover was grouchy—snarling and screeching as if it knew it had a new manual driver at the wheel. I was making a routine check in my rearview mirror when I noticed the black Mercedes weaving in and out of traffic behind us.

  “Hey, Katy,” I said in the calmest voice I could muster. “Are there many black Benzes in town like the one Jose has, you think?”

  “Why do you ask?” she said, not taking her eyes off her phone.

  “Think I saw something. Wasn’t in good shape, like the mirrors were all out or something.”

  Katy sat bolt upright. “What? Where?”

  “They don’t know where we’re going, right?” I said, racking my brain to think if we’d left any clues at the bakery.

  “Where do you see it?” Katy’s voice was rising in panic. “I don’t see it.”

  I glanced at the rearview mirror again. We were in the middle of afternoon traffic, but the black Mercedes was nowhere in sight.

  “It’s gone.”

  Katy slammed back in her seat and let out a huge sigh.

  “Sorry,” I said. “My mind’s playing tricks on me.”

  Chapter Fifty-three

  “Watch out!”

  I swerved the Rover to avoid hitting the golf cart. It dashed within inches of us, beeping a high-pitched horn. The uniformed driver gave us a nasty glare as she sailed by.

  “What was that?” I asked, catching my breath.

  “Airport golf cart,” Katy said. “She could have killed herself.”

  “And us, too,” I said, looking in the direction of the disappearing cart, bolting so fast its wheels hovered above the pavement. “That was close.” I looked around us and moved the Rover slowly forward, scanning the area.

  “What are you doing?” Katy asked.

  “Looking for parking,” I said, searching for a spot to fit this immense beast.

  “Let me get this right,” Katy said slowly. “Dick and Jose are plotting to sell us. We just stole Mrs. Rao’s car and broke every speed limit in town. Plus they’re probably right behind us. And you’re looking for parking?” Her voice rose with every word.

  “Gosh,” I said. Katy did make sense sometimes. I needed to listen to her more often. “You’re right.” I turned the car to stop.

  “Look out!” Katy shouted, pointing in front.

  The airport golf cart was zipping by again, this time from the other direction. “Oh, no!” I turned the steering wheel to a hard right, slammed on the brakes, and crashed right into a light pole. I heard a loud bang.

  “Help!” Katy cried out, pinned behind the airbag, her arms flailing.

  “Oh my god!” I pried myself out between the seat and the bag and jumped out. The cart was now five hundred yards away, and the driver hadn’t even realized what she’d done.

  “Katy! Are you okay?” With my heart in my mouth, I ran to her side and opened the passenger door. For a split second, the images from another car crash from long ago flashed across my mind. My throat choked up. If anything happens to Katy—

  “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, pulling herself out of her seat.

&
nbsp; “I’m so sorry.”

  “Good thing we weren’t driving fast or we’d be gone now.”

  I helped her out. We pulled out our bags from the backseat and surveyed the damage. The pristine Land Rover, the one I’d spent many hours polishing, was now crumpled, the front part anyway. I looked up at the light pole. A sign posted above our heads said, “No stopping under any circumstances—Airport Security.” Katy and I looked at each other and shook our heads.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said.

  We ran toward the airport, leaving the Jeep where it was. It took several minutes to find the Air India counter, and that’s when we heard the bad news.

  “Five in the morning!” Katy said in shock.

  “That’s almost sixteen hours from now,” I said.

  “I’m afraid that’s the earliest we have available, and it will be standby,” the counter attendant said. “Otherwise, you can book a direct flight on Friday. We still have plenty of seats later this week. Shall I look into that option?”

  “No!” I said louder than expected. “We’ve got to get out as soon as we can.” The attendant looked at me with raised eyebrows. “It’s a family emergency,” I explained quickly. That was partly true. No, fully true.

  “So do you want to take these two standby seats then?”

  “How much is it?”

  “Two thousand six hundred and eighty dollars.”

  I looked at her, shocked.

  The attendant looked from Katy to me and back again. “Do you want the seats or not?”

  I nodded.

  She punched in more keys.

  “Any baggage to check in?”

  “No, we’re good, thanks.”

  “Passports, please,” she said, and started to hammer away at her keyboard. Katy was hovering behind me.

  “Asha,” she whispered, but I motioned for her to wait. I had bigger problems on my hands right now and could feel the sweat beading on my forehead already. I watched helplessly as the attendant went through my passport and punched the numbers into her computer. Is she going to find out my visa is fake? Is she going to call the immigration police?

  “Asha!” Katy said again. I shook my head at her and mouthed not now.

  “Okay, ladies,” the attendant said, peering into her screen. “The best I can do is this. First leg is from Toronto to London, second from London to Delhi. In Delhi, you will transfer to Goa. Not a fun flight, but everything else is booked today.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, relieved. “This is really, really fine. Thank you.”

  “It’s six hours from Toronto to London, and then seven from London to Delhi. The layover in London is twenty hours,” the attendant continued. “This is all standby. Are you sure you want this?”

  “Will the owner of a white Land Rover, license number AGK 6X8, please report to the security desk.” The PA system reverberated throughout the airport.

  Katy and I looked at each other quickly, as the announcement was repeated. Did it have to be so loud?

  “So, ladies?”

  “Yes, we’ll take it,” I said quickly, passing her the cash.

  “Asha!” Katy said, this time violently tugging my sleeve.

  “I know, I know,” I whispered. “They found the Jeep.”

  “Forget the Jeep. Look behind.” She gave a barely perceptible nod of her head.

  I looked back and froze.

  “Don’t move,” she whispered.

  I didn’t think I could. “How did they know we’re here?”

  “Must have followed us.”

  “That Benz behind us was Jose’s, right?”

  “Excuse me,” the attendant said, turning from her computer toward us with two pieces of paper and our passports in her hand. “Here are your tickets. Your flight departs at five a.m. Make sure to be at the gate an hour ahead. Remember this is an international flight.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Next, please,” the attendant said, turning her attention away from us.

  “What do we do now?” Katy whispered. We kept our heads down and stayed close to the airline desk, pretending to be busy stuffing our tickets in our bags. The next person in line rolled up with three large suitcases and a golf bag. We couldn’t hang around here forever.

  The airport was getting crowded. A couple with a screaming baby was trying to calm their kid down, and a group of teenagers with long hair and musical equipment rolled into the lineup. Even if we got lost in this crowd, we’d only get so far. To get to the security gate, we had to cross miles of corridors, giving ample time for Jose, Dick, and the gang to ambush us.

  “Where’s the washroom?” I whispered.

  “You need to use the washroom now?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Just look for the sign.”

  We both scanned the area, desperately trying not to make eye contact with Ashok, who was hovering near the edge of the lineup, scanning the crowd. From where we were, we could see Dick and Jose walking the length of the corridor, looking here and there, searching for us.

  “Over there,” Katy whispered. “To your right, near the bookstore.”

  “Good. Okay, we make a dash to it.”

  “Go!” I grabbed Katy and pulled her with me. We skedaddled like mad.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  “Now what?” Katy asked.

  We’d only sprinted a few yards, but my heart was thumping like I’d run the hundred-meter dash.

  I looked around me. This wasn’t the best hiding spot, but the men couldn’t walk in without others noticing. For now. “We can stay here until they get tired of looking.”

  Katy didn’t look convinced.

  “I’ve done this before—outwaited Ashok, I mean.”

  “This is your plan?”

  “Do you have a better one?”

  She shook her head.

  I pulled a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser and wiped the floor nearest the handicapped stall. I plunked down my backpack and sat on my bag. Katy watched me, threw down her suitcase next to mine, sat on it with a thump and put her chin on her hands.

  Every fifteen minutes, I snuck toward the washroom door to see if the coast was clear. After an hour, Jose and Dick disappeared, maybe to haunt another part of the airport, leaving Ashok to keep vigil at the main departure area. He was sitting on his haunches on the floor at the back, with a mobile phone in his hands. Though he couldn’t speak, I guessed all he had to do was dial a number when he spotted us and the others would be after us in a flash.

  “Do you think he saw us?” Katy asked.

  “Don’t think so,” I said. “Dick and Jose wouldn’t leave him alone like that if they knew we’re here.”

  “He can’t sit like that forever,” Katy said.

  “Oh, trust me, he can wait for a long time.”

  “What if they’re still here tomorrow morning?”

  “We’ll think of something,” I said, settling on my bag.

  We sat silently for a few minutes.

  “You know what?” Katy said, studying the ceiling with a distant look on her face, “I’ve lived in the same place…in the same country, the same city, the same neighborhood all my life. This is my home.”

  “Home?” I whispered to myself, realizing I didn’t know what that word truly meant. By then, I’d lived on three continents, in as many countries and with as many families, and I had no idea where home was anymore.

  “I’m giving it all up and coming on this crazy trip halfway around the world with you,” Katy was saying.

  “Well, he did one good thing.”

  “Who?”

  “Jose.” I caught myself. “I mean, that guy….”

  “Him?” Katy’s faced flushed red. “That, that lying bastard?”

  She’s being generous, I thought. “What I meant to say was,” I said quickly, “it’s a good thing you got your passport. Otherwise, we’d have had to think of something else.”

  “Where’d we go, then? The North Pole to see Santa Claus?
Since Mom died, I don’t have anyone to go to.”

  “Me neither—just you and my cousin Preeti.”

  “You can’t wait to see her, eh?”

  I nodded.

  “So what are we going to do when we get there?”

  “We’ll figure something out,” I said. “Maybe we’ll get our own place, the three of us.”

  “In Goa?”

  “Or Tanzania,” I said. That’s my home, I thought, my home where my parents lay buried, and where I had to return eventually.

  A glint came to Katy’s eyes. “Hey, maybe we can start a business and charge money to give a good whopping to men who treat their girlfriends bad.”

  “That’d be illegal but fun.”

  “A good whopping to their cars then. I’ve got experience on that front now.”

  “Still illegal,” I said. “But I bet we’d make a ton of money.”

  “And we could get some cool uniforms, you know, like Wonder Woman.”

  “With red heels.”

  “And ankle bracelets. I want one like yours.”

  “Preeti gave this to me before I left. I’ll ask her where she got it.”

  Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours. Katy and I had all the time in the world now, to chitchat about the past and our imagined future.

  Women came into the stalls and left. After a while, we started to see a pattern. There was a time when most flights departed, bringing in a rush of women desperate for a last-minute pee break before they got on the plane. Some women marched in, did their job, and left. Others stayed for fifteen minutes, brushing their teeth, washing their faces, grooming their hair, touching up their makeup. Most ignored us in the corner. One old lady asked if we were okay. A few glared at us, especially during those packed times, when there was little space for the lineup.

  We settled against the wall, tired and hungry, but safe for the moment. Sometime after midnight, Katy drifted off to sleep. I was exhausted too but couldn’t sleep. My brain kept spinning, thinking of the hair-brained schemes those men might try to get inside the women’s washroom. They could barrel their way in with guns or they could slip in disguised as cleaners or airport officials. After that last thought, any woman in a uniform, from cleaners to stewards to pilots who happened to stroll in through the doors, looked highly suspicious to me.