“I’m so sorry,” babbled Tina, acutely embarrassed and extremely sorry. “Let’s move on to something else. We don’t have to talk about that incident, Mark.”
He was silent for a few moments, absentmindedly smoothing his wavy hair with his nervous hands. “Yes. We must. As painful as it is to me, I must remember that it’s very painful for many—all those lives lost in the rubble!”
He began to explain the disaster, much similar to what she had heard and read earlier, but his narrative terrified her and took her erratically to the end of all means is the beginning. She wondered about the ‘someone very dear’ lost in that explosion, but she didn’t have the nerve to ask him.
“Tina, would you like to visit the scene of the disaster? I’m going there tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Yes,” Tina replied gratefully, eager to gather what she could by visiting the unfortunate location, deeply conscious of what her father might say at that very moment.
d
The taxi dropped off Tina by the circular drive in front of Palace Hotel just after 5:00 in the afternoon. The beautiful air-conditioned foyer was a balm to her tired eyes. She admiringly looked at the vast bronze bowl filled to the brim with water, a sprinkle of rose petals and jasmine swimming in it.
“I’d like to have a cup of tea. Should I call for room service?” Tina asked the manager standing behind the front desk.
“I’ll be glad to send a tray to your room, Ma’m, with some biscuits,” replied the young man politely, discreetly letting his eyes travel from her brown-black hair to her beautiful hazel eyes which were assuming a tinge of green in the fluorescent light. “Would you like anything else?”
“Nothing else, thank you. I’ll take a copy of the newspaper, if I may?”
While Tina was going through her wardrobe to choose an outfit for the evening, the doorbell rang. Room service was fast. After locking the door, she picked up her robe. Having more than two hours to kill, she decided to soak in the tub and turned on the faucet. Leaving the tea tray on the small table by the tub, she got into the scented water. As she blissfully breathed in the heavenly fragrance, her thoughts flew to the derelict bathroom in the hostel at 19 Temple Street. That address had a ring to it, and it tiptoed into the room and stole her peace of mind. Was it because it was the last thing she noticed as she left the dreadful building? She cursed the explosion by the railway station which somewhat forced her to stay at that strange hostel. When she was still trying to scrub away the end of all means is the beginning, the desolate hostel and the ghostly woman began to gnaw at her peace of mind. Was her visit to India jinxed?
Tina went to the wardrobe and chose a pair of off-white linen pants and a blue cotton kurti with white embroidery. She had become a fan of the comfortable tunics. When she got dressed and began to brush her hair, her cell phone rang.
“Tina, it’s Shaker. Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Oh,” she hesitated, happy and surprised, “I’d love to, but Mark is picking me up soon. Actually, a couple of members from his team are joining us for dinner.”
“That’s quite all right. I should’ve made plans to meet you for dinner when I dropped you off at the hotel this morning. Tina,” he lingered, “did you get a chance to see the paper today?”
“No. I just picked up a copy of The Express. Why?”
“Look at Section A 5, about a missing young woman who has a mental illness. It’s on the left column.”
Tina read anxiously. “Is she the same woman I saw early this morning?”
“Very likely. It says she was rescued around Seloor.”
“Then she’s all right?” asked Tina, hopefully.
“Looks like it. How long are you planning to be in Pennoor?”
“I was planning to stay here only for a week, while working with Mark, but if I must begin my internship with you…”
“I’m going to work here for another two weeks at the trauma unit. If it doesn’t make any difference to you, why don’t you work here with me instead of returning to Chennai? Once it is time for me to leave, we can go to Chennai together and continue to work on the pending projects.”
“That’s fine. And thanks for calling.”
Tina looked at the clock. It would be 5:30 in the morning in Pittsburgh, and her parents would be asleep. She had to call them later. Yes, much later. She smiled in relief and looked at her reflection again before going to the foyer to wait for Mark.
- 9 -
19 Temple Street, Seloor
While Zakir was being questioned by Manohar inside the dark and filthy room at 19 Temple Street, Abdullah sat on the chair facing Usman’s desk.
“You wanted to see me, Usman Bhai?” Abdullah’s rugged face softened in affection. Usman held the status of his big brother, and there was nothing Abdullah would not do for his bhai.
Usman looked at his friend’s tired and puffy eyes from hectic days, parched leathery lips from incessant smoking, and a rotund body from excessive alcohol and reckless eating. “Abdul, I need a new location for Maya.”
“What happened?” Abdullah was disturbed by the urgency in Usman’s tone.
“There was an episode last night,” Usman hissed, recounting the fugitive’s accidental encounter with Tina Matthew.
“I’ve always been nervous about letting a guest into the building, even if it is on rare occasions, and I’ve expressed my concern before.”
“But you see, it was a nagging necessity, or at least earlier we thought it was. We couldn’t have an organization here without the occasional interference.”
“But this is supposed to be an interim shelter for women and children. That has worked for several months. Hasn’t it?” asked Abdullah, upset that a breach occurred in spite of meticulous planning.
“Yes, but when we first set up this establishment, we let in an occasional guest out of necessity. Remember, we bought the property which was functioning as part of a YWCA facility. I had issued orders to stop using the spare room for a guest, but Zakir…” Usman ground his teeth.
Even Abdullah, who had seen the worst, was intimidated by the red rage in Usman’s eyes. “What should we do with Zakir?”
“He is already in the corner room in the other wing. Zakir is devoted to our cause, and there is no better assistant, Abdul. But he is soft. I don’t see how he can ever develop the strength of mind he needs to be a vital member of our organization. After all, we have sheltered him under our wings for more than ten years. I decided to give him a desk job and made him the manager here. Looks like he can’t do a good job even behind a desk. We can patiently train minds, but Zakir is not ruthless. It’s just not in his nature. Sometimes it’s foolish to wait indefinitely for that strength of mind to sprout.”
“Yes, Zakir is not ruthless, and he’ll never be. How often have we discussed that? He hasn’t improved at all,” agreed Abdullah, thinking about the corner room where punishment was generously dispensed. “And Zakir’s mild nature can ruin our missions. Who is working on him?”
“Manohar. I decided to make it his project.”
“Good. It’s important to make him and his kind feel rather important once in a while,” smiled Abdullah, appreciating Usman’s strategic decision. “Usman Bhai, you look very tired. In fact, you look ill. Do you think you need a short rest from all this?”
“Rest? I probably do. But I can’t afford to lose time. As you know, there are two projects coming up—minor but important. And my rest can wait. It’ll come on a glorious day, Abdul. After all, we’re doing Allah’s work. Aren’t