Goddess for Hire (14 page)

“SO THIS WHOLE TIME I
've been pursued by Dilbert with a tan? Well, now I know why all the attempts on my life failed.”

Okay, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to insult the person who currently had a gun trained on yours truly, but Sanjay had started it. He'd made fun of my driving, and now he wanted me dead.

His hand tightened on the gun. “You are the embodiment of evil and must be destroyed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. No wonder I had a relatively calm week. You were in Seattle.”

Sanjay's eyes—already gleaming with fanaticism—took on an even more fervent flash. “After I dispose of you, I will remove the second most evil person on Earth—Bill Gates. And my software program to rival Windows will finally stand a chance.”

The dude was seriously wacked.

Well not about Bill Gates—most Americans probably found him to be a wee bit evil—but definitely about me.

“Why are you after me? I don't get it.” In movies the hero usually kept the villain talking as long as possible. Seemed like a plan to me, until I thought of something else. “You're Hindu, and Kali is a revered Hindu goddess.”

There was a soft thump, and an orange cat with white paws curled up on the hood of my car and stared at us with interest.

Sanjay didn't seem to notice our four-legged observer, too preoccupied, as he was, with thoughts of eradicating my existence. “The gods created Kali to destroy the Demon King, but she became far worse than any monster she slaughtered. Kali feeds on death. She was reborn, not to save the world, but to destroy it.”

For a Hindu, I could not believe how off the mark Sanjay was. Then again, that was sort of the definition of fanatic, wasn't it? I had heard of a cult in Calcutta that supposedly conducted human sacrifices in the name of Kali—a problem I'd definitely have to address—but that was like blaming Jesus Christ for the Spanish Inquisition.

I looked over at the cat. I wondered if my powers extended to communicating with animals? I stared, willing the creature to leap onto Sanjay's face and claw his eyes out. Instead it began licking its paw.

Fine. So I couldn't count on a feline sidekick.

“But why come after me now, Sanjay? You were trailing me for days before Ram arrived from India. Why not take me out then?”

Sanjay shrugged. “I had to make sure you were the one. And frankly, I had my doubts until the end.”

“But why—”

“Enough!” he shouted. “Tonight it ends. Your death will restore the balance of the world.”

Ram and Sanjay kept throwing that phrase “balance of the world” around, and I still didn't get what it meant.

“Sanjay, listen,” I began.

“I am only the first step,” he said. “You will be punished well into your next life. The karmic wheel of justice shall see to that.”

“Punished how? Am I gonna come back looking like you?”

“Here kitty, kitty.”

Sanjay and I both turned to see an old woman in fuzzy slippers and matching robe, step out onto the porch. “Here kitty, Jeff kitty.” She spotted us and stared suspiciously.

Two brown people in an upper-middle-class neighborhood will do that.

“Who's there?” she called out.

I used that moment to call the Goddess Within.

Lightning flared against the sky.

Gun raised, Sanjay whipped around to face me.

With its fur standing on end, the cat rose on all fours, hissed, and sped away.

Sanjay started, distracted by the cat. I lunged and kicked him in the face. Not too difficult since he was only a couple inches taller than I.

He screamed and fell back, dropping the gun and clutching his nose.

The leg weights were paying off.

I picked up the gun. I'd dispose of it in the nearest body of water. I was chucking guns into the ocean on a regular basis. If malevolence didn't get me, the EPA surely would.

The old lady was peering from her porch. “What's going on? I'm calling the police.” She hurried back into the house.

Sanjay jumped up, hand still pressed to his bloodied nose—I was betting I'd broken it—and took off running, darting between two houses and disappearing into the shadows.

I debated my options.

I could go after Sanjay or get the hell out before the police arrived.

I elected to do the latter.

As I opened the door of my car, I heard a soft meow. Jeff the cat was sitting on the grass watching me. His golden eyes caught the light.

He looked distinctly unimpressed.

 

Sanjay's apartment smelled like
IKEA.

Ram sat silently as I poured out my tale. When I reached the end, he stood and excused himself.

He went into the bedroom and returned carrying a small beaten satchel. “Naturally I choose no longer to cohabit with malevolence.”

Naturally.

I was about to get us both out of there when a thought struck me with all the force of Fat Albert. “Ram, why didn't my Malevolent Meter ever go off around Sanjay? Like that first night at the Holiday Inn and all the other times when he wasn't trying to exterminate me?”

“The first night we met you were not open to the Goddess Within,” Ram replied. “And later Sanjay knew of your abilities. He guarded his thoughts and emotions carefully around you. As a very young man he spent months with the ascetics in the hills. He is able to control his body and mind to a stunning degree. What more Sanjay learned, he has always kept to himself.”

I resisted the urge to stamp my foot. “What is up with all these loopholes? Sanjay can walk around in some sort of zombie state, and I won't know a thing until he's about to strike?”

“There is no reason for you not to be completely aware of Sanjay at all times.”

“Oh.” I felt the relief slide over me. “So how exactly…” My voice trailed off as I recognized what Ram truly meant. “Don't give me that again! I don't know what would have happened tonight if that batty old lady hadn't come out looking for her cat. Next time Sanjay will probably just shoot me in the back of the head. I don't have time to seek enlightenment!”

Ram's face took on a look of supreme patience. “Now more than ever you must believe these—loopholes as you say—are only in your mind. You must break through the mental barriers you have constructed.”

I was trying, honestly I was, but apparently I needed to hurry.

“Therapy under pressure. I get it.” Opening the front door, I gestured for Ram to precede me. “Let's get the hell out of here. I'll check you into a hotel.”

Ram swept by me with a swish of his orange robe. “A hotel is unnecessary. I will stay with you.”

I blanched. “I don't know, Ram. My parents…”

“It will be fine,” he said.

End of discussion.

I shut the door behind me with a bang.

Ram, my parents, and me, all under one roof.

Sure.

It'd be fun.

A curry-scented breeze.

Not.

MOM WAS IN FRONT
of the TV watching the latest Bollywood blockbuster.

Nowadays it was possible to see the DVD version of the newest Hindi flick just days after it was released in India.

Wasn't piracy grand?

On-screen the hero and heroine were passionately embracing on top of the Swiss Alps, passionately gazing into each other's eyes in the middle of rolling green meadows, then passionately necking in a bed of brilliantly colored tulips. The heroine wore a seductively skimpy sari and the hero—a transparent black shirt that showed off his studly brown nipples.

“I've seen this movie,” I said by way of greeting.

My mom answered without looking up. “No, you haven't.”

At least she was talking to me. Her maternal deep freeze was apparently set on thaw.

“Yeah, I have. They're in Switzerland, right? The girl's
father is a billionaire industrialist who keeps trying to kill the hero because he's poor.”

“It's a different movie,” she insisted. “In this one the heroine lives with her uncle—a billionaire industrialist—who keeps trying to kill the hero because he's from the wrong caste.”

Ram nudged me. “The actress is very beautiful, no?”

My mom finally looked up, and her eyes widened.

Clearly the time was ripe for performing introductions.

“Mom—Ram. Ram—Mom.” It almost sounded like a chant.

Ram folded his hands and inclined his head. “Namaste.”

My mom rose from the couch. “Namaste.”

I'd warned Ram in the car not to bring up the goddess thing and to let me do the talking. I cleared my throat. “Ram needs a place to stay. He was part of a temple exchange program, and his accommodations fell through.”

My mom opened her mouth to respond when she caught sight of my nose ring. “You pierced your nose?”

I tried for chirpy. “Like it? Now I look just like you.”

Switching to doctor mode, she marched over. “Where did you get it done? Is it infected?” She peered into my nostril. “I need a flashlight.”

“Mom, it's fine.”

Gently she touched the jewel. “This ruby is real.”

“Apparently it was an upscale place.”

Her eyebrows rose in suspicion as she switched back to
maternal mode. “Apparently? Where were you last night? The message you left on the machine was garbled.”

I'd called? Even in my drunken haze, some ounce of self-preservation had obviously set in.

“Well?” She was still waiting for an answer. “Where were you last night?”

“I think Maya looks nice,” Ram said.

I mentally blessed him, as my mom, recalling the presence of a guest, stepped back and smiled. “I'm sorry, punditji. We would be honored to have you as our guest.”

Ram bowed his head in thanks.

Her gaze slid back to me, traces of suspicion still lingering. “How exactly did you and Ram meet?”

“Through the friend of a friend's cousin who's also a friend of mine. I figured it'd be a good way to get in touch with my Indian heritage. Ram's going to teach me meditation.”

“Punditji,” she corrected.

“What?”

“He is a holy man. Refer to him as punditji.”

Ram agreed. “Yes, that is more appropriate.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

My dad entered the room dressed in nothing but his boxers. Yawning and scratching his potbelly, he balked at the sight of us.

“Punditji will be staying here,” my mom informed.

My dad performed the speediest Namaste in history and mumbled, “Very nice…most holiest of men…please enjoy…stay.” The next moment he was gone.

“Where is the loo?” Ram asked.

After showing him the door, I found myself face-to-face with my mom again.

“Maya, there's something I need to discuss with you.”

Automatically my mind raced through possible escape routes. Then I reminded myself of my vow to grow up and be an adult. So I stopped and waited for her to speak.

“Maya, I've been thinking about what I said to you at Dimple's, and it was a little strict. It's just…I worry about you…” Her voice trailed off.

I reached out to touch her—my mom and I didn't do hugs—when I thought what the hell and wrapped my arms around her.

She instantly stiffened, arms straight at her sides. Then slowly, I felt her relax. She didn't hug me back, but patted my shoulder and gently pulled away.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly a Hallmark moment, but it was a start.

“You weren't strict, Mom,” I said. “You were right. I needed a push. I've sent out a bunch of applications for general office work and stuff.”

“Office work?” She shot me an amused look. “Do you know how to type?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. With two fingers.”

She smiled. “Your father and I are not going to kick you out. Why don't you look for something you really like to do?”

Hmm. What did I like to do? Shopping. Watching
movies. Watching television. I discarded eating, drinking, and sex, because they were pretty universal. Then again, so were movies and TV. Shopping? What about fighting malevolence? Sure, there was some job satisfaction, but…“It might take a while, Mom. I still haven't discovered the color of my parachute.”

She sighed, but it was a good sigh. I could practically see the tension spill out of her. “As long as you're moving toward something—taking steps—that's all I want. If you decide to take some classes, we'll pay for them,” she paused, “but it's a loan.”

I laughed. “You're on.”

“Well then, I'll get dinner ready for punditji.”

“He's a vegetarian,” I reminded.

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

Hey!

That was so my look.

 

Before going to bed, I crept downstairs to double-check that the alarm was activated.

My Malevolent Meter might not be able to detect Sanjay's presence, but Brinks definitely would.

Everything was in order.

I was tempted to turn on the upstairs motion detectors, but the guest bathroom was across the hall from the bedroom and I didn't know what sort of relationship Ram had with his bladder.

Satisfied that the house was safe and snug for the night, I let myself relax.

Tomorrow Ram and I were going to have a long talk about my powers.

My mystical Indian half was tempered by my practical, American, can-do half. Sure, enlightenment was one way to break down my mental walls.

A sledgehammer was another.

MY WORLD
had been turned upside down.

Literally.

I was propped up against the wall attempting Baddhahasta Sirsasanai—the mother of all yogic headstands.

Not a good idea on a full stomach.

However, it was Ram's favorite posture, essential for uncovering the physical, emotional, and mental tensions held in the mind and body, thereby allowing insight to emerge.

Along with my lunch—if I kept it up.

“How much longer do we have to do this?” I complained. “My neck is killing me.”

Ram, on the other hand, looked practically asleep. “A few more minutes,” he murmured.

Coming downstairs that morning, I'd found my mom and Ram bonding over cups of tea. Apparently they shared a passion for Bollywood and were indulging in current celebrity gossip. Glossy film magazines, carried by the local Indian store, were spread out on the table
before them. I caught a couple of the titles:
Filmfare
,
Star-dust
,
CineBlitz
.

As I poured Zimbabwean coffee beans into the grinder—I don't do tea in the morning—their conversation turned to the Bollywood remake of
The Wedding Planner
.

“It was much better than the remake of
My Best Friend's Wedding
,” my mom said.

I shut the lid of the grinder. “I don't know about you guys, but I'm waiting for the Bollywood remake of
Schindler's List
.”

Blank looks from both.

Mom left for work soon afterward, and somewhere between breakfast and lunch, Ram convinced me to try meditation.

“Forget this!” I'd had it with headstands.

I just had to figure out how to return my body to its normal upright position.

Finally, I just let my legs sort of slide down the wall until I was horizontal, then I rolled over and sat up. While I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to fluff it up again, Ram executed a neat flip, with his legs curving over his head, his torso soon following, so that he was on his head one moment and in the crouching position the next.

The pundit was flexible. I'd give him that.

“Can we just do some normal meditating now?” I asked.

“As you wish,” Ram replied. “We will continue outside.”

We sat on the deck facing each other Indian-style. Al
though as Indians, any way we sat would technically be Indian-style.

For a winter afternoon, the day was clear and nice. A long-sleeved tee and jeans day.

“Should I call the Goddess Within?”

Ram adjusted the folds of his robe. “That is not necessary, we will focus on addressing your problem.”

“Right—Sanjay.”

“No. Sanjay is merely incidental. There will always be those who seek to end your life. Sanjay is most likely the first of many.” He waved his hand like it was no big deal. “The problem is, you still have not found the courage to trust your talents.”

“Well duh!” I tossed my hair and leaned back on my hands. “I'm sort of fighting evil here, not trying out for
American Idol
.”

“Evil is not the source of your fear. This is.” He tapped his head. “You are still calling the Goddess Within, though it should be a natural state you are in at all times. When you learn to combine your conscious and unconscious selves, you will be pure divinity.”

“So what am I now, pure freak?”

He was about to answer when I held up my hand silencing him. “Okay, forget it. Moving on—I want to know exactly how I'm supposed to save the world from destruction. A date and time would be nice.”

Ram smiled. “Only you know the answer to that question.”

I wanted to punch him.

Unaware of my desire to do him bodily harm, he continued. “The goddess was born to save the world. I do not know how, when, or where. That is for you to discover.”

I couldn't believe it. I was totally on my own.

Realizing he was slowly becoming adrift in my emotional undercurrents, Ram slid back a few inches. “What I
do know
is how I can help you become a fully actualized goddess. Through meditation.”

Personally I preferred medication…

“Fine, let's get meditating.”

“Close your eyes,” Ram instructed.

I closed my eyes.

If you can't beat om.

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