The Weight of Heaven (40 page)

bastard had fled forever with Ramesh? In a country of a billion

people, how would he ever find Ramesh again?

And all of a sudden, he knew,
knew
that that was exactly what

Prakash had planned. He felt physically ill, unable to stand up, as

weak as he’d felt while recovering from the pneumonia. “Frank,

what is it?” he heard Ellie say, and he saw that the two women had

noticed.

“He’s gone,” he blurted out, his eyes filling with tears. “He’s

taken the boy and run. Forever.”

He didn’t hear Edna cry out or see her hand flying to her open

mouth. He didn’t see the disbelieving look on Ellie’s face. “Whoa,

whoa,” Ellie said. “Let’s not get carried away here. Just because

Prakash has decided to take his son on a trip . . .”

He felt as if he was looking down on Ellie from some great

height, felt as if he was really
seeing
her for the first time. What he’d

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 2 9 9

always thought of as kindness and compassion, he now saw for what

it really was—silliness. A dangerous naïveté.

“Has he ever taken the boy on a—trip?” he asked Edna, not

bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“No, sir. Never. Prakash has hardly left Girbaug except one-two

times.”

“And how has he been since—since the day, y’know, we exchanged words?”

“He been acting very strangely, sir. One minute he all quiet and

serious and then he’s smiling at me. Like he knowing something I’m

not knowing.”

Frank turned to Ellie triumphantly. “There. You heard that.”

“Well, so damn what? Prakash always acts a little strange.”

He was suddenly tired of both women and their hazardous stupidity. Of their inability to look clear-eyed into the unyielding core of the

universe. Of their failure to recognize malice even when it lived up

close to them. Ellie was a psychologist, had been trained to look inside

people’s heads. And here she was, deceived by an illiterate cook.

He read the letter again. And suddenly realized that it was meant

for him. Prakash had known Edna would bring the note to him. It

was designed to throw him, Frank, off their scent while Prakash

disappeared with the boy. He felt an urgent need to find Ramesh,

to reassure him, to rescue him from whatever fate Prakash had in

store for him.

“Well, nothing we can do tonight,” he lied. “In any case, I have

some phone calls to make.”

Edna looked unconvinced. “Sir, he’ll come back. He loves that

boy. And Ramesh will want to be coming back, no?”

He looked at her absently. “I’m sure,” he said vaguely. He turned

on his heels and walked toward the guest room. “I have to make

some work calls,” he said to Ellie. “I’d like to not be disturbed,

okay?”

3 0 0 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

Ellie looked skeptical. She opened her mouth to say something

and then shrugged. “Whatever.”

He shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of the sleeper

sofa, cradling his head in his hands. The thought of Ramesh not

being across the courtyard from him tonight, the image of the boy

sleeping in some strange bed—or worse, in a field or under a tree—

filled him with despair. The fucking bastard. Fucking coward.

Prakash couldn’t take him on directly and so was using the child to

get back at him. What if he took him to a big city like Bombay or

Calcutta and disappeared? They’d never hear from Ramesh again.

The boy would disappear like a small stone thrown into the ocean.

He jumped up from the sofa. He had already wasted precious

hours. If he was to find Ramesh, the time for action was now. Prakash

already had a head start of several hours. He paced the room for a

minute, trying to think clearly, to keep his panic on a leash. There

was only one man who could help him. Only one man whose dislike

for Prakash matched his. Only one man with the self-confidence

and wherewithal to know what to do. He sat at the antique desk and

dialed Gulab’s number.

“Tell me,” Gulab answered.

“It’s Frank Benton,” he said. “There’s—there’s a situation that I

need help with.”

“Yes, sir?” Frank could hear the animal alertness in Gulab’s

voice.

“It’s that fool Prakash,” he said. “He’s taken his son and disappeared. I need your help finding them.”

“Disappeared where, sir?”

Frank ground his teeth. “I don’t know. He just left a note saying

he was taking his son on a trip for a few days.”

“Then we should wait. They will return in two-three days. The

idiot probably doesn’t have money for more than that.”

Why was Gulab being as obtuse as the rest of them? “Look,”

Frank said. “The note is a ruse. The man has kidnapped his son,

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 0 1

don’t you get it? We’ll never see them again if we don’t move on

this.”

There was a second’s silence, and when Gulab spoke again,

something had shifted in his tone. “I see. Well, in that case, Frank

sahib, I should contact the police chief. Try and find out where that

goonda
has smuggled his son.”

“Okay. But Gulab, there should be no violence. I—I just want to

find the boy, that’s all.”

“Understood. I will contact you in the morning, sir.”

“But if there’s any news tonight, I want you to call. Don’t worry

about the time.” Frank made a mental note to sleep in the guest bedroom tonight.

“Yes, boss.”

But sleep was not his country tonight. Frank lay in bed, trying

to fight the images preying on his mind—Ramesh sleeping in some

unsavory, unsafe place, Prakash getting drunk and hitting the boy,

Ramesh scared and inconsolable in a big, alien city. Maybe it would

be better if Prakash took the boy to Bombay, Frank thought. At

least Ramesh would know something about the city. But when he

thought of what flea-infested hotel Prakash would be able to afford,

he almost cried out in rage. He wondered whether Ramesh at least

had his sneakers on, repelled at the thought of the boy wandering

through the dirty city in his plastic slippers.

He got up late the next morning, having decided before finally

falling asleep that he would take the day off from work. For one

blissful moment his mind was blank, but then he remembered and

the bleakness fell upon him, as if he had pulled a blanket over his

head. He got out of bed and, ignoring the pressure on his bladder,

dialed Gulab’s number.

“No news, yet, sir.” He could hear the apology in Gulab’s voice.

“But not to worry. Police will start their investigations full blast

today.”

“Okay,” he said. “But remember, no violence. Just find me the

3 0 2 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

boy. Oh, and one other thing. I’m working from home today. So call

me on my cell if there’s any news.”

“Very good, sir.”

He peed and then opened the bedroom door and walked into the

living room. He could hear Ellie in the kitchen. “Hi,” she called

out. “I didn’t know whether to wake you. How come you’re not at

work?”

“Playing hooky,” he mumbled.

Ellie walked into the living room with a large mug of coffee. As

her eyes fell on him, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in

shock. Some of the coffee splashed onto the tiled floor. She barely

noticed it.

“What’s wrong?” he said, involuntarily looking over his shoulder.

She moved her mouth, but no words emerged.

“Ellie. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, God. Frank. What happened to you?”

He looked at her inquiringly. “What’re you talking about?”

“Your hair. Oh, God.” She set the coffee mug down and came up

to him. Taking his hand, she led him to the mirror in the bedroom.

He let out a cry when he saw his grandfather looking back at him.

But, no, that wasn’t it, exactly. What he really saw in the mirror was

his own body and face, the body and face of a thirty-four-year-old.

But the blond hair had turned gray. Overnight. It was like seeing

his present and future selves at the same time, as if the mirror was a

reflecting glass as well as a crystal ball. He felt as if he was a figure

in a fairy tale, an apparition, felt that if he didn’t dig his feet into the

floor, he would float away, disappear.

Frank ran his hand through his hair and turned to Ellie with disbelieving eyes.

“What? How is this possible?”

“It happens. When people are under great stress. I’ve seen it

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 0 3

in my practice.” Ellie’s eyes were moist. “Frank. What’s going on

with you? How is it that you’re suffering so much and I am not part

of it?”

He shook his head, not knowing what to say. He had the strange

sensation of being aware of aging, as if he could suddenly feel every

cell in his body becoming sluggish, turning as gray as his hair.

He let Ellie lead him to the couch, and she sat holding his hand.

“Babe. Sometimes the hair reverts back. But you gotta let go of this

stress. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on with you. Let me help

you through this.”

He looked at her face, so eager, so innocent, so beautiful, so

young
. What could he say to this face? This face had seen the ugly

reality of the world but had not turned ugly. Had known the same

searing loss and grief that he had but had not turned distrusting and

fearful. Ellie had somehow risen above the tragedy that had befallen

them, had reclaimed her place in the world. Whereas he, he had

handed over the keys to his salvation to a nine-year-old boy. A boy

who was now missing.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I—I’m just worried about

Ramesh.”

“Don’t be, honey. He’s with his father. And no matter what

Prakash is, he loves his kid. They’ve just gone on a vacation, hon.

Like we used to take Benny.”

He didn’t bother to keep the look of outrage from his face. How

dare she desecrate the memory of their vacations with Benny by

comparing them to Prakash’s sneaky abduction of his son?

“What? What’d I say?”

“Did I ever take Benny on a vacation by myself?” His voice

shook with anger. “Without checking with you? Informing you

after the fact with a note?”

Ellie sighed. “Frank, I’m just trying to help—”

“Then leave me alone. This is not helping.”

3 0 4 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

He ignored the hurt look in her eyes as he got up and walked out

of the house. He knocked on Edna’s door. “Any word from them?”

he asked as soon as she answered.

“Nothing, sir,” she said. “But maybe—”

He nodded, turned around and walked back into the house.

He spent the next four days at home. His days took on a pattern of avoiding Ellie, talking to Gulab several times, grilling Edna

about any clues she may have as to where Prakash may have disappeared, falling into bed at night and sleeping fitfully. Ramesh’s face

kept haunting him. He imagined the boy in all kinds of dire situations, a beseeching look on his face, calling out to Frank for help.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, his heart thudding,

drenched in sweat.

His cell phone rang. It was Gulab calling. “Yes?” he said eagerly.

“Just got a call from the police, sir. Turns out Prakash bought a

train ticket for Aderbad. The fellow who sold it to him was on leave.

Returned to work today, only.”

“What the hell is Aderbad?”

“A small town, sir. Nothing much there.”

“Why the heck would he go there?”

“God knows, sir.”

“Well, tell the police chief to send some of his men there.”

There was a slight pause. “Out of their jurisdiction, sir.”

Frank barked out an expletive. “They’re investigating a kidnapping case. Nothing should be out of their jurisdiction.”

Again, that pause. “They’re saying a father taking his son is not

kidnapping, sir.”

Was Gulab mocking him? Frank gave his lower lip a savage pull.

“Listen, Gulab. Tell the chief to send two of his men. I’ll pay all

expenses—plus
baksheesh
.”

“That will work, sir. I’ll phone him back right now only.”

So why the fuck didn’t Gulab come right out and tell him to pay

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 0 5

those bastards off? Frank wondered as he hung up. What the hell

was he being so delicate about? As if he, Frank, didn’t know that the

whole rotten country was a cesspool of corruption.

His house phone rang, but he ignored it. Ellie could get it. It was

probably for her, anyway. He went to where Edna was sweeping the

courtyard.

“What’s in Aderbad?” he asked.

The woman started at him blankly. “Sir?”

“The town of Aderbad. Who does Prakash know there?”

“I never even heard of it, sir. Why you asking?”

“Because he bought a train ticket for there.”

“Maybe one of his friends from the liquor shop is from there,”

she offered. But he was already turning away in disgust. Stupid, ignorant woman, he thought. Knows nothing about her husband.

Ellie gestured to him as he walked back into the house. “It’s good

to hear from you, Pete,” she was saying. “And give our love to Janet

and the kids, would you? Well, here’s Frank.”

The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Pete. But he had no