“About four miles from here, just outside the city.”
“Which direction?”
Lakshmi points with her chin to the east.
I think I know that area; it’s where I go sometimes to pick the mountain flowers that I sell. That gives me an idea. I get up and find my flower basket—the large one I use at my stall. Then I take the gold bars from under the bedroll and put them in the empty basket. When Lakshmi sees the gold, her eyes grow wide. Then she looks at Neela and the patch of fleece that’s open on her side.
How much can the basket hold? “We have thirty-eight sheep,” I say, “counting Neela, thirty-nine. If each sheep is carrying four bars, two on each side, that would add up to one hundred fifty-six bars. But two are missing, so it’s actually one hundred fifty-four.” I don’t know how to read, or write my numbers, but I do know how to count them in my head.
Lakshmi takes a bar from the basket and weighs it in her hand. She’s used to mixing natural remedies, calculating the correct proportion of ingredients. “Each bar is slightly different, but the one I’m holding is about two ounces. It would sell for maybe six, seven hundred rupees.”
“So that would mean...” I look at Lakshmi, my hand flying to my chest. I can feel my heart thumping against my palms. Now I know why smugglers take the risk of smuggling. All the bars, together, add up to about a hundred thousand rupees! Hai Shiva! It starts to sink in just how serious, how trecherous this business is. Lakshmi tried to tell me all along—how crazy it would be, how foolhardy to return the gold to people who would sooner cut their mother’s throat than do without their treasure. I should have listened to her.
“We have to get it out of here,” I say. I look at my children, who have heard the panic in my voice and are staring at me with open mouths.
Lakshmi sees my patal. “Is that what you used to open the seams?”
“Hahn.” I put the sharp tool back in its slot on my belt.
She presses her lips together, frowning, and looks at Neela. I know she’s calculating how much time it will take to remove the gold from the sheep. She’s good at making plans. She’s organized every section of the garden according to what kind of soil the plants need, how much water they require, how much fertilizer. The garden is efficient and well-ordered. Like everything Lakshmi does.
She nods, decisively, as if she has made up her mind. “We have no choice. We have to remove the gold tonight. The groundskeepers at the hospital will all have gone home.”
I notice the tired lines under her eyes. She’s done so much already—trekking up and down the mountains, carting my brother’s body to Shimla, riding to that business on the outskirts of town. Now it’s dark outside. And cold.
We aren’t of her blood. Yet, she’s willing to do more.
Lakshmi moves to the door. “Meet me at my house in a half hour. Bring Neela, please.”
“Ji, when was the last time you ate? I made chapatti and palak subji tonight. You should have some before you go.”
I often hold back the respectful Ji with her. I see her soften. She smiles to thank me for my offer but she shakes her head. “I have to figure out how I’m going to explain all this to Jay—Dr. Kumar. I had to tell him what we’ve found. He’s concerned, of course. And I have to work out how we’ll bring the gold from the pasture. Chandra is worn out. I’m not sure I could ask him to do any more today.”
I nod. “I’ll ask the Aroras to look after the children.”
She smiles faintly. “Tell them I need you at the hospital tonight. It won’t be a lie.”
14
LAKSHMI
Shimla
Jay wouldn’t let Nimmi and me go alone into the lower pasture in the dead of night to collect the gold. He’s already upset with me for going out to Canara Enterprises by myself.
Now he’s with us at the edge of the pasture as we call out, softly, to the sheep. We work as quietly as we can, but there is little we can do about their bleating. Nimmi grabs a sheep, I shine the flashlight on it and Jay cuts through the stitches to retrieve the gold bars.
I’ve stabled Chandra for the night and brought our other horse, a short blond pony. If our calculations are correct, the gold will weigh no more than twenty pounds, less than a small child, and the pony should be able to handle the burden.
The task is difficult because we’re working in the dark. We hear night animals around us: marmots and weasels going about their business in the recesses of the surrounding pine forest. Down here, in the lower meadow, the sheep are relatively safe from large predators. If a leopard or Himalayan bear were to attack the flock, it would leave us with fewer gold bars. I tell myself I mustn’t worry about what I can’t control; even so, my heart is racing and the blood is pounding in my ears. Although the night is cool and my fingers feel like ice, I’m sweating underneath my jacket. I’m still wearing the same clothes from this morning when I went to look for Nimmi up in the mountains.
From time to time we happen upon a sheep we’ve already worked on; we let her go and find another. Nimmi was smart to count the flock when she brought them to the lower pasture earlier. Once we’ve reached thirty-nine, we’ll know for certain that we’ve checked them all.
It takes two hours. We know we’re done when the total number of gold bars we’ve collected matches the number we calculated. As we predicted, every animal was carrying four bars. We put the gold in Nimmi’s flower basket, then tie the basket on the pony. I use the rajai I brought from home to cover our illicit cargo.
Nimmi casts an eye over the flock, the pockets of fleece hanging open on both sides of their bodies. “They should be sheared—really sheared. Then I could sell the wool and keep the money for my nephews.” Nimmi’s voice catches. “That’s what Vinay would have done.” She turns to me. “I can do it in the mornings little by little before I get to the clinic. I should be done in four days.”
I tilt my head. Of course.
It’s midnight before the three of us and the pony arrive at Nimmi’s house. Jay and I wait at a distance with the pony while Nimmi collects her children from the Aroras and brings them down to her lodging, one in each arm, both asleep.
She asks me to come inside with her as she settles Rekha and Chullu on the bedroll.
She whispers, “I won’t open my flower stall tomorrow. I’ll go with you to Canara instead, Ji.”
I understand why she doesn’t want Jay to hear; he’s upset enough at me for going alone today. “We can’t both be absent from the clinic for a second day. We’ve caused enough disruption. I would rather you go to the Healing Garden tomorrow. Pretend everything is normal. Tell the nurses you weren’t feeling well today or make some other excuse.” In the quiet of the evening, I’m careful not to speak of gold. “They know me now at Canara, so it’s better if I take it.”
Nimmi looks at me for a long moment, her face covered in shadow. I can see the white orbs of her eyes. It’s as if she wants to say something, but then she wags her head and closes the door after me.
I can tell when something’s bothering Jay. He stops teasing me. While I stable the pony next to our backyard corral, and give him food and water, Jay carries Nimmi’s gold-laden basket into the house.
When I come into the drawing room, he’s sitting in an armchair, rolling a glass of Laphroaig between his palms. He’s already poured a glass for me and holds it out for me to take.
I take the glass and smooth his hair. “You’re worried?”
“Who wouldn’t be, Lakshmi? Why would you risk your life—our lives—for someone else’s problem?” His voice is low and measured.
I let his words sit for a moment. Then I go to the side table where I keep letters and extract the most recent letter I received from Malik.