Lucky T (13 page)

"Don't look so devastated, Jockstrap," Doreen said, getting up and pausing next to Carrie in the doorway. "You're outta here, right? Isn't that what you wanted?"

Carrie stepped aside to let her pass. For once Dormean had a point. Celia couldn't have made it easier for her. And now she was going to get to spend her summer with Dee the Hottie. Maybe he would even help her in her T-shirt hunt. After all her work that day Carrie had found only one shelter--the one on AJC Bose--and the director there had told her they hadn't received any clothes from Help India in months. A full day of hiking around the city and she had come up empty. If she was going to survive this search, she was going to have to be more efficient. A guy like Dee could be a lot of help. He grew up in Calcutta. Maybe he could help decipher the street-name changes and show her how to get around.

"By the way, I saw you talking to that guy," Doreen said, still hovering in the hal way.

Carrie was utterly flabbergasted. Had Doreen gone off the deep end?

"Are you stalking me, weirdo?"

"Yeah, right. Then I'd actually have to give two craps," Doreen snapped. "My mom sent me out to look for your sorry butt because she was worried about you."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, thanks."

"We'll see about that," Doreen said suspiciously, then turned and walked downstairs with a slight spring in her step. Carrie narrowed her eyes after her.

That girl was up to something for sure.

That evening Carrie and Celia whipped through the streets of Calcutta in an auto-rickshaw, squeezed into the backseat with Carrie's bags on their laps. Prandya had told them that the tiny, three-wheeled vehicle was the fastest way to get around town, and now Carrie understood why. Because it was so small , the driver was able to zip in and out of traffic, cutting off slower- moving vehicles and taking corners at hyper-speed. Carrie felt as if she were racing in the Indy 500, zooming from lane to lane, edging out the competition. The driver laughed as he dodged a cow, ran a light, skidded around a corner, took out a garbage can, and slammed on the brakes, just avoiding getting blindsided by a car that looked as if it was right out of the 1950s.

Carrie glanced at Celia and cracked up laughing. The woman looked as if she was ready to throw herself from the car, which she could have done quite easily. The "doors" were actually just openings and both Carrie and Celia had their feet pulled in as far as possible to prevent injury.

"Well, this is . . . bracing," Celia said as the motor roared to life again.

"I think it's kind of fun," Carrie said, grinning.

"Kids," Celia muttered under her breath.

Carrie looked out the small window to her left, trying to take in the sights, but it was all very bumpy and blurry. Normally a ride like this would have made her carsick instantly, but the wind whipping at her face from the open door kept her stomach in check and the smile on her face.

Finally the cabbie was forced to slow down as he pulled onto a wide street so jammed up with traffic that even he couldn't find a spot to slip through.

On the other side of Carrie's window was a surprisingly wide-open space--something she hadn't seen since she arrived in India. It was a huge park that might have been pretty in the daytime with its many trees and bushes and huge lawns. But now, as the sun went down, everywhere Carrie looked were men, women, and children in rags, claiming benches and bits of grass and curling up to stay the night. A pair of little boys held out paper cups to passersby. Whole families huddled together under trees. A few women stood by the curb, wringing out clothes that had been soaked in that day's rainstorm. It was like a campground for the homeless.

"Omigosh," Carrie breathed, her heart squeezing tightly.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" Celia said. "It makes you wish we could build a dozen houses a day."

A little girl stood by the fence, her face streaked with dirt, her clothes two sizes too big, staring out at the traffic. For the first time Carrie really thought about what Celia and Doreen were doing here. They had given up a big chunk of their summer so that some of these people might have a roof over their heads. Suddenly she felt absorbed by guilt for giving up so easily and chasing a cute boy across the city.

"Maybe I should bag this whole CCS thing and come back with you," she said, swal owing hard.

"You're just as needed where you're going," Celia said with a comforting smile. "Don't worry about it."

Up ahead the traffic started to move and the auto- rickshaw was soon zooming away. Carrie kept her eyes on the little girl for as long as she could, wishing she had a suitcase full of lucky Ts for her and her family. Finally she sat back in her seat again and sighed, thinking of home. Whether or not she ever got her shirt back, at least she had her mom and her house and her friends. Well, some of her friends, anyway. At that moment Carrie realized that she felt pretty lucky for the first time since before she lost her lucky T.

The driver turned the auto-rickshaw and entered a neighborhood that looked just like a middle-class area from back home. The streets were lined with stucco homes with real windows and yards and driveways. Orange and yellow flowers blossomed everywhere. Huge trees with massive leaves dripped excess water onto the sidewalks.

Another turn took them onto a street packed with large apartment buildings. People lounged on front steps and gathered on corners. Music blared from somewhere inside one of the buildings. Christmas lights twinkled on a few of the rooftops. Carrie was just taking it all in when suddenly she heard the squeal of brakes and she was thrown forward. If the duffel bag on her lap hadn't acted as a buffer, she would have broken her face on the back of the driver's seat.

"You are here," the driver said.

Carrie looked out the window and saw Dee standing right next to the auto-rickshaw. He was wearing a denim shirt and madras shorts, his hair flopping over his brow. He had his hands in his pockets and unleashed the super- duper hot half smirk as soon as Carrie's eyes met his.

Viva la India, she thought.

"Welcome to CCS," Dee said, taking the bag from her lap and offering her a hand out of the auto-rickshaw.

"Thanks," Carrie said, all bubbly and giddy. She couldn't believe how she acted like the president of Ditzville whenever she was in front of him.

Celia said something to the driver and then came around to size Dee up. Dee held out his hand to take the bag she was carrying as wel . Carrie couldn't help grinning as she watched him. Dee was such a gentleman! Jason would never offer to help carry her stuff. In fact, he usually walked alongside Carrie while she struggled with her books, backpack, and basketball gear, chatting on his cell with nothing else in his hands, clueless as ever.

Dee was definitely summer crush worthy.

"So, you're the guy who's stealing our Carrie away," Celia said, eyeing him.

"I hope you can spare her," Dee replied, brushing his hair away from his face.

"Well, at least she's still donating her time," Celia said diplomatically. "She came here to help and that's what she'll be doing."

"Um, she's standing right here," Carrie said, raising one hand.

Celia and Dee both laughed.

"Our director, Lalit Banarjee, is out on an errand at the moment, but he told me that if you have any questions about our program, you should feel free to call ," Dee told Celia. "But I assure you my parents would not all ow me to be here if this was anything other than a reputable organization and a safe environment."

Wow. Dee sounded very official and . . . old. Carrie turned to Celia with a confident smile, but on the inside she couldn't help but feel like this guy might be completely out of her league. He was a student at Cambridge! Hel o! He got to hang out with international babelicious coeds who had seen the world and experienced life. Up until now Carrie hadn't been too far out of San Francisco and didn't know the first thing about being cosmopolitan. What if Dee only saw her as a pesky little kid? What if she had already fallen into the dreaded "friend/sister quadrant"? What if she had to leave India without tackling Dee in a fit of passion?

Then a pang of guilt came over Carrie again. She was at a children's shelter. She should be thinking about being altruistic and helpful, not about her own tragic plight!

"I'm sure it's all fine. Carrie, just give me a call if you have any problems," Celia said. She gave Carrie a quick hug. "Take good care of her or you answer to me," she said to Dee with narrowed eyes. Then she got back in the auto-rickshaw and with a squealing of tires, she was gone.

"So, want to see where you'll be staying?" Dee asked.

"At this point as long as it's got a bed, it's gold." Carrie stopped herself. "It does have a bed, right?"

"With a mattress and everything," Dee said.

A sudden flash of a PG-13-rated daydream pulsed through Carrie's mind. She and Dee were lying in a hammock in the forest furiously making out when Carrie shook her head a bit and got back to reality.

"Hey, you never know," she replied as she followed him across the sidewalk, avoiding the many cracks along the way.

"This is your room," Dee announced, walking in and placing Carrie's bags on the floor.

The tiny chamber had plain white walls and faded pink curtains on the single window. A twin bed stood against the wall across from a small dresser and lamp. A pole hung behind the door for clothes and a clean mosquito net was draped over the bed. Carrie had never seen a more welcoming sight in her life. Let the mosquitoes try to get her now.

Dee had just taken her around the entire facility--the dining area, the classrooms, the dorm rooms, where the kids were already asleep for the night--

talked with her about her responsibilities as floor monitor, and went into detail about the children's schedule, which seemed a bit like overkil to Carrie.

Breakfast was at 8 a.m., and then the primary kids had class while the older kids had free time. At eleven it switched so that the older kids had class, which was usually arts and crafts or reading, and the younger ones had free time. After that lunch was served, then nap time, then study hours, then dinner, and then they usually had a nighttime activity. Lights-out was at 8:30 p.m. sharp. It seemed to be a tighter itinerary than what she had when she was an eleven-year-old camper at Sunny Bunny Summer Academy. What about organized games of King of the Mountain, archery lessons, and kite-building sessions? Carrie understood that these kids didn't have a lot of resources or opportunities--that was apparent from the run-down look of the place--but still , why didn't they have any time to play?

Dee shifted her focus back to the room. "Well, what do you think?"

"It's perfect," Carrie said, relishing the thought of a night without. . .

Then her eyes hit the small mirror on the wall and she screamed out loud.

Carrie had seen Dor-mean's reflection.

"What's wrong?" Dee asked frantically.

"Look behind you!" Carrie shouted.

It was like a teen slasher film gone terribly awry.

Dee turned around and jumped back slightly when he saw Doreen and her braces-filled smile. "Hi, who are you?"

"I'm Doreen, one of Carrie's friends from back home. And I might have known, Carrie, that this was your situation." She nodded at Dee.

"Oh, wel , any friend of Carrie's is a friend of mine," Dee said courteously but confusedly.

"What's up, Doreen?" Carrie asked through clenched teeth. "Did I forget something?"

Doreen smirked. "As a matter of fact, you did. Remember that list..."

Oh, no, Carrie thought. She wouldn't dare.

"The one with the women's shelters on it. You left it in our room," Doreen said while waving the paper around in the air. "I brought it over because I thought you'd need it to find your--"

"Thanks, Doreen!" Carrie hastily interrupted her and yanked the list out of her hands. Obviously Doreen had sneaked into her bag and swiped it before Carrie had left for CCS.

Dee seemed rather intrigued. "Wow, you were looking for women's shelters too?"

Carrie scrambled to say something and push Doreen out the door simultaneously. "Uh . . . yeah. I was hoping to volunteer there in my spare time. We get spare time around here, don't we?"

Dee blinked. This clearly wasn't a question he was expecting.

"Yes. One day a week. It's usually scheduled by myself or our director, Mr. Banarjee," Dee said. "I really can't believe how committed you are, Carrie."

Doreen let out a belly laugh as Carrie tried to nudge her out of the room, into the hal way, and then out the front door where she could kick her butt all across Calcutta. "She's committed all right, committed to--"

"Helping others less fortunate than me. Exactly, Doreen. Now, shouldn't you be going?"

"No, your friend doesn't have to leave," Dee said. "You two can hang out and I'll head back to my room."

Oh my God, he's so sweet and nice. And Doreen is seconds away from blowing it, Carrie thought.

"Nah, I better let Carrie get her rest. She has a big day of T-shirt hunting to get to, don't ya, Carrie?" Doreen said with a satisfied grin.

And there it was.

"T-shirt hunting?" Dee asked. "I don't get it."

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Doreen went on as Carrie just stood there in shock. "The actual reason Carrie came to India was to find this T-shirt of hers.

Her mother gave it away by mistake. My mom, Celia, took it for Help India and shipped it over here like a month ago and now it's somewhere in this city and she's on a mission to find it."

For a split second Dee looked at her as if she had just started speaking backward. Carrie was as frozen as Joan Rivers's face. And Doreen?

"Would you look at the time? I've gotta run," she said while glaring at Carrie. "See you guys around."

Then Doreen flounced out the door.

Carrie, on the other hand, was beyond devastated. The story sounded so stupid and idiotic coming from her severely chapped lips, as if Carrie was this complete flake who'd travel all the way to India to get a T-shirt back. Well, that's pretty much what happened, but whatever, Doreen made it seem so much worse than it was.