Molly Moon's Hypnotic Time Travel Adventure (20 page)

Holding Petula up tauntingly, and cackling as if he had just performed the funniest trick in the world, Zackya disappeared.

T
ime winds swirled around Zackya and Petula. “This may take awhile,” he said, squinting at his silver time-travel gadget. “Between you and me, Petula, I am not the world’s best time traveler. Let’s stop here.”

The world was bright with daylight. “Ah, you see, precisely my point—we need the night.” He took off again, cursing his gadget. Petula growled, her mouth clamped shut with Zackya’s fist. The next time they stopped, the moon was low and the sky was paling with the dawn. Zackya glanced into the observatory. The residues of Waqt’s ceremony lay on the ground. Flower petals, dried blood, and a smoldering fire.

“This will do,” said Zackya, and he set off toward the tree-lined avenue. “I shall take you to my quarters
in the palace. You’ll be quite comfortable there.” Petula growled at him again.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it. What shall I feed you with, then?” He picked his way over stones to the small observatory palace.

“Do you like chicken? Baked without spices? You’ll enjoy chasing the peacocks. Perhaps baked peacock would be a delicacy for you! In my view, the more peacock pie, the better. They are such stupid, noisy birds.”

Around them, morning crows squawked a dawn chorus. Zackya rang the bell at the palace gate. While waiting, he peered down at Petula. “I’ll take my hand away from your mouth if you promise not to bite.”

Petula was tired. She’d never been a great one for biting, anyway. When Zackya took his fist away, she was still. She just looked at him with her big, dewy eyes.

“Good,” said Zackya. He fondled her soft, floppy ears. “So, Petula, would you like to be my pet?” Petula shut her eyes. She was really upset. This man had just stolen her from Molly and now he expected her to be nice to him.

“Well, that’s settled, then,” said Zackya. The gate creaked open. Petula’s eyes filled with tears.

Whispering, so that the night watchman didn’t hear him, Zackya said, “And, you know, one of the first gifts I will get you is an earring!”

M
olly’s mouth hung open.

“He’s just taken Petula to another time!” she cried disbelievingly, as if the others hadn’t seen. “And there’s no way we can get to her. He took the crystals. We’re stuck!” She looked into the bushes as if by some miracle Zackya would step out of them with a changed heart. Molly was beside herself. “This is a nightmare!” she groaned.

“Don’t worry about me!” said Ojas, admiring a motorbike as it blasted past. “I love it here. I don’t ever need to go back to 1870. This is the future!”

“Ojas!” shot Rocky. “Petula is like a person to us. How can you go on about the motorbikes when Petula’s just been taken by that lunatic?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m sorry. My goodness, I’m so
sorry—I was distracted by those two-wheeled contraptions. Please accept my apologies.”

Molly sank to the ground and put her head in her hands. “I’ve got parts of me stuck in the wrong time!”

“But, Molly,” said Forest as the puppy Petula licked something turnipy from his ear, “can’t you
remember
what happens to the other you’s? I mean, they’re all in 1870 India and that time is well past. Can’t you remember how it all finished?”

“I can’t!” cried Molly. “It’s all a complete blur. Before, when I came forward in time, it was the same—it’s as if there’s a memory lag or something.”

Molly glanced about at some tourists who were pointing at Amrit, and then she looked at the ruins of the observatory. The old staircases were battered and graffitied but the site sent a chill through her. The stairs reminded her that Zackya knew exactly where they were. He could easily lead Waqt to them. Part of her wanted to see Zackya again as there was a chance she’d be able to get the better of him and then rescue Petula and get the crystals back. But there was also a huge chance that if Zackya returned he would be coming with Waqt to kill her. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“We should get out of here,” she said, hurriedly wiping them away.

“Baitho!” Ojas said, and Amrit dropped down on one knee. Ojas waited until Molly was safely up and then bid Amrit walk. He thought it best to head into the hustle and bustle of the main part of Jaipur town.

Molly sank down in the howdah and touched her cheek. The wrinkles were worse. The skin was bumpy with scales under her fingers. She felt desperately depressed.

Ojas was in front. Rocky and the little Molly sat behind. Forest was right at the back, with his eyes shut.

“I’m hungry for some meditation,” he said, taking his glasses off. “All this time travel is screwing my head up so, man, I’m just gonna step out for awhile, if that’s okay with you. Hey, Rocky, watch the puppy, would ya? Call me if you need me.” With that, he crossed his legs and shut his eyes.

“We’d better get some food for everyone,” said Molly, talking on autopilot. “How, though, I don’t know. I wouldn’t know where to get food for Amrit.” She tried not to cry. She wanted someone else to take control of the situation for a while.

“Leave the food to me,” said Ojas, seeing her distress. He wiggled his right foot under Amrit’s right ear so that she started walking, and added encouragingly, “You know, Mollee, Ganesh, the elephant god, maybe looking down favorably on us.” Molly shrugged. Ojas
continued. “I really think so. And also, Mollee, I have something up my sleeve that is going to help us.”

“You do?” Molly buried her face in her knees.

“Yes, but you have to promise not to be cross with me?”

Molly said nothing. She felt so miserable that nothing anyone did mattered to her now. She was consumed by the thought of Petula and her other selves stuck in the past with Waqt. She was drowning in fear and apprehension and sadness. And the scariest feeling, which sucked every other feeling toward it, was the huge gaping hole that was there because Petula had gone. Her Petula was gone. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Agit!”
Ojas urged Amrit to walk on past a billboard advertising men’s shirts. He glanced around them to see that no one on the ground was watching. Then, shiftily, he drew a shiny, hooped object from his sleeve.

“I took this from the Maharaja of Jaipur in 1870,” he said, holding it out to Molly. “It is one of his ankle bracelets. I think in Jaipur in these modern days it will be considered a very extra-precious item!”

Molly looked up.

“Wow!” exclaimed Rocky, making the puppy in his arms jump and lick his chin. “That thing is studded with gems!”

“Exactly,” agreed Ojas. “I thought we might need some paying power at some point. I decided that if the maharaja was wide awake, he would
definitely
say that we should take his ankle bracelet to help us defeat Waqt. It is all in a good cause, don’t you think?”

Molly hid her face and cupped her knees with her arms. A terrible gloom was settling over her. A gloom that said she had reached a dead end. Even the bracelet couldn’t help lift this sadness.

“Well done, Ojas,” she said flatly.

“You must not be so sad, Mollee,” Ojas said. “I know why you are sad and you are giving up hope, but there is something you don’t know that you should.”

Evening traffic puttered past. A man on a motorbike, with a friend riding pillion, lobbed a packet of colored ink at another man who was speeding past them. Pink dye splattered across the back of his white jacket. “Good shot!” Ojas laughed.

“What should she know?” asked Rocky.

“Ah, yes. Well, you see, Jaipur is a very interesting town.”

“Yes.”

“You see it over there—we are heading toward its center now. Oh, my goodness, that whole family is orange with paint!”

“Yes. So what should we know?” Rocky pressed.

“It just so happens that in my time—in 1870—Jaipur was famous, very famous.” A red motorbike zoomed past, and Ojas clapped his hands. “Now that is a beautiful beast!”

“For what, Ojas?” Rocky prodded impatiently. “What was it famous for?”

“Ah, yes. It was famous for its precious stones. The greatest of gem craftsmen lived and worked here. Their work was some of the best in India. It has struck me that perhaps these craftsmen’s descendants are still cutting gems and making jewelry.”

Molly raised her head.

“You mean that this town has lots of people who own precious gems?”

“If it is like it used to be—yes. There will be workshops that make jewelry from precious stones and shops that sell it.”

“And you think that we might be able to find some time-travel crystals?” Suddenly, hope was on the horizon.

“I do. Yes.”

Molly grinned and hugged Ojas. “Brilliant, Ojas, you’re
brilliant.
I’m so glad you’re here, Ojas. Isn’t he clever, Rocky?”

“Hey, keep on this side of the road!” said Rocky.

And so Amrit plodded on. Ojas smiled and touched
his pocket. In it was the
other
ankle bracelet he’d taken from the hypnotized maharaja. It made him feel good. That bracelet meant that he’d never have to pickpocket again.

Back in 1870, it was ten o’clock in the morning.

Waqt was relaxing on a purple silk chaise longue in his silver-walled royal suite at the Amber Palace. Safe by his side was his velvet sack of crystals. Both his feet were up on padded stools. A small Indian woman massaged his right heel while another buffed his giant toenails. He let out a tired sigh and turned the page of his book. There was a knock at the door.

“Enter!”

Zackya stepped gingerly into the chamber.

“So,” said Waqt, not bothering to lookup, “did you get her?”

Twitching with excitement, Zackya said, “No, Your Highness, but I did get
these.” He
opened his hands to show Waqt Molly’s red and green crystals. Waqt merely ran his finger down the page of his book as if still reading. He didn’t look up. Undeterred, Zackya drove on. “And
this,
Your Highness!” He clicked his fingers. A servant entered the room, pulling Petula on a lead. Her claws scraped the floor as she refused to walk.

“You know, don’t you, Zackya, that I’m
already
furious
with you?” growled Waqt, turning a page and not looking up. “I still had character tests for the six-year-old Molly. And she
might
have drawn some more stycrals from the earth for me… not that any of the older Mollys seem to magnetize them.… But that’s peside the boint. The point is that because of
you,
she’s gone. You aren’t tasting my wime are you, Yackza?”

“N-n-no, sahib.”

“If I am not tismaken, I can hear a dog.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And what,” said Waqt, in a slow, threatening tone, “is the point of daking the tog?”

“She will come back for the dog, Your Highness!”

Waqt raised his bloodshot eyes. “You fupid stool,” he hissed hatefully. “You never did know how to play games. I
already
have bait for her. She will come back to save herselves! This is the second time you have stolen this animal. It is obvious that you want the dog for
yourself
! Guard! Take that animal and
kill it
!”

A tall, stiff man stepped out from the corner of the room, seized Petula, and removed her. Zackya looked nervously after her, waiting for the door to shut to obliterate the sound of Petula’s barks, before he continued.

“And… and I have these crystals that she stole from you, Your Highness!”

A book came whizzing past his head, batting his ear as it went, and the tiny Indian women scurried toward the wall like two animals sheltering from lightning. Waqt got to his feet.

“YOU INADEQUATE IDIOT!” he exploded. “YOU’VE COMPLETELY RUINED THE GAME. NOW SHE IS STUCK IN THE FUTURE. YET AGAIN
YOU
—
YOU
YACKZA,
YOU BLITHERING FOOL FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE CESSPIT—HAVE
FUINED MY RUN. AAARGH!” Waqt hurled the two stools through the air. Zackya dodged them as if he were a moving duck in a fairground arcade.

“AAAAAAAAAARGH!” Waqt’s yell filled the room, making the windows rattle. And then, as quickly as his temper had exploded, it stopped. For a moment he looked blank, then he observed, “She may well be lost in the future, but I suppose this will show us how good she is. Hmmm, yes, this will be interesting.
If
she is as good as I was when I learned the hypnotic arts, she will return. And we will leave a few clues for her. Clues to lead her to her death. You have done well, Yackza, my little rockcoach. No insecticide for you today.” Then he said to the other guard, “Dollow the fog. When it is dead, take its body and wrap it up for a Ganges River burial.” He picked at his eyebrow. “I’m tired of this observatory palace. Tomorrow I would like to spend the night at the Bobenoi Palace in Jaipur
itself. There, the amenities are better.” He looked at his toenails and scowled. “It’s impossible to get a good pedicure these days. Zackya, get rid of them.”

Zackya clapped his hands and bossily shooed the women away. When they’d gone, he knelt down to grovel at Waqt’s feet.

“You are always so right,” he simpered. “You have such style, Your Highness, such wisdom.”

Traveling into modern Jaipur by elephant was quite an experience. Rocky sat right behind Ojas and explained how the flow of traffic worked. Amrit was as calm and as coolheaded as the camels and buffalo beside her, even when a paint bomb hit her side. Lots of people stared up at them, and one tanned couple with packs on their backs even took advantage of Amrit stopping at a traffic light.

“Excuse me,” they asked Ojas, “but eez eet possible to book you and your elephant for a tour of zee city tomorrow?”

“I am sorry,” Ojas apologized charmingly. “I would love to, but tomorrow I will be busy time traveling.”

The tourists’ eyes widened. They opened their phrase book to see what “time traveling” could really mean.

“You’re optimistic,” Molly observed.

“I find that is the best way to be,” Ojas replied.

The streets became busier and more crowded. The roads and walls of buildings were all colors of the rainbow where splattered paint had dried, and the ground was stained with red marks from paan chewers spitting out their betel-nut leaves.