Holy Water (37 page)

Read Holy Water Online

Authors: James P. Othmer

Tags: #madmaxau, #General Fiction

 

• 
Make the call center operational enough to flatter and impress Pat and Audrey and corporate; this includes working with—no,
supervising
Mahesh to help train the operators to at least look like they know what they

re doing in time for Pat and Audrey

s visit.

 

• 
Convince them that beyond the good PR buzz potential of the call center, they have an opportunity to generate much more globally newsworthy publicity with an ambitious yet viable and scalable plan to bring fresh water to people in villages such as this. This would be done with the affordable, life-saving LifeStraw (which Henry first learned about from Madden), a product whose mission is consistent with the broader Happy Mountain Springs ethos. This could be enhanced by entering a partnership with a not-for-profit organization such as UNICEF (Tap Project) or Charity: Water.

 

• 
Exploit the Happy Mountain Springs project as a shining example of how corporate goals, cultural ideals, and environmental sustainability can work hand in hand in the new Galado, and convince the palace to create a Ministry of Corporate and Cultural Sustainability.

 

When she is finished, Maya puts a hand on Henry

s thigh and looks him in the eye.

You know the only reason I thought of this, the only reason they may even consider this, is because of you, Henry.

 

Does Henry agree with the goals of Maya

s agenda? Absolutely. Does he think they have a chance in hell of achieving any of them? Absolutely not. Will he share his opinions with her? Of course not. He loves her.

 

He places his hand over hers and says,

It can

t hurt to try.

 

~ * ~

 

They depart from the village and head for the call center shortly after lunch. This time Henry is behind the wheel. After directing him onto the only paved road in the region, Maya curls up in the
passenger

s seat, pulls her black wool
sweater up snug about her neck, and sleeps. He passes yak-drawn carts on the side of the road. Young men on smoke-spewing two-stroke scooters. Billboards for South Korean computers and cell phones, on stilts deep within rice paddies. Prayer flags alongside billboards covered with desecrated images of the prince, Galadonian graffiti spray-painted in yellow over the young despot

s smiling, airbrushed face.

 

Far ahead smog hovers above the capital city like atomic fallout.

 

He doesn

t think much of the first red-robed person he passes sitting cross-legged at the side of the road until he passes a second, a mile later. A half-mile later there is a third, like the others male, cross-legged, neither smiling nor frowning but staring straight ahead as he zips past at seventy-five miles an hour. After passing three more men, he finally sees a woman in the same position as the others. Henry waves, but she doesn

t respond and probably didn

t see him to begin with. As he gets closer to the capital, the red squatters, now close to an even mix of male and female, appear with more regularity and in increasingly larger groups. Ten. Twenty. Now groups of a hundred, shoulder to shoulder in something akin to prayer along the roadside.

 

When red-robed squatters line both sides of the road, he considers waking Maya but decides not to unless the squatters do something dangerous or threatening. As if sensing the change outside the truck window, she awakens, but she shows no sign of being surprised or concerned by the demonstration.

 


AAD,

she says by way of explanation.

The Alliance Against Dictatorship. They are protesting the prince

s policies. I forgot that today was the day.

 


Are they legal?

 


Barely. So far the protests have been nonviolent. They wear red and line the roadside to the capital. Last week they gathered outside the airport, and there were clashes with the military. But from what I hear the military is split, like the rest of the nation, over which side to take.

 


What does the prince make of this?

 


Oh, I imagine he is insane with rage. Citizens wearing red in the capital have been beaten and thrown in jail if they fight back.
Several months ago the opposition color was yellow, but when HM wore yellow for a speech, the opposition realized that was a royal color on Mondays and Wednesdays, so for a while there was much confusion about what to wear if you wanted to express your disgust with the government and simply not get killed.

 

Henry slows the car after noticing flashing lights up ahead. It

s a military checkpoint. A half-dozen armed soldiers stand in front of two dark green personnel carriers blocking the road. Henry looks down at his untucked shirt, a white Brooks Brothers with a thin red stripe.

 


Calm down,

Maya tells him as the truck eases to a stop.

We

re fine.

 

A soldier approaches Henry

s side and raps on the window. Before Henry can speak, Maya leans across the seat and begins to converse in Galadonian with the soldier. Henry sits back, crosses his bare forearms across his potentially incriminating red-striped shirt, and stares ahead. On the side of the road three soldiers are thrashing the legs of a young man in a red robe with riot sticks. Maya sits back in her seat and rummages through her valise for a document. She hands it to the soldier, who looks at it but doesn

t seem to read it. He smiles, steps back, and waves them on.

 


I told you we

d be fine.

 

He touches the lump on his head that he got from his night out with Madden.

Never doubted you.

 

As they ease through the tight space between the two military vehicles, Maya nods at the soldiers. There are no red-robed protesters on the other side.

Too close to the city for the prince

s comfort,

Maya explains.

He had the military shut it down out here, but according to the guard back there, it

s getting increasingly difficult. Too many demonstrators at too many locations. And according to some others I

d rather not mention, it may all change if the prince loses the faith of the military.

 


How would that happen?

 


If the monks get involved and HM asks the military to crack down on them. It

s one thing to ask a soldier to cane an intellectual, but a monk? Many soldiers depend on them for spiritual atonement. Giving food and assistance to them helps bring you to a better place.

 


Look, I don

t want to
seem
any more callous and offensive than I

ve already been, but why would any company want to do business here? Didn

t someone, some corporate type, do a little preliminary research into the situation before diving in with an investment?

 

Maya inhales deeply and rolls her eyes.

From what I

ve seen, I doubt it. But in their defense, they

re not alone. The prince has been doing this dance with multinationals for a while, and the protests, they are nothing new. They

ve been getting bigger and bigger, but because up until now he

s been able to control the flow of information, to an outsider it probably seems like more of the same.

 

Less than a mile from the checkpoint, two miles from the city limit, Maya instructs Henry to turn off the highway and head back toward USAVille.

 


Shouldn

t we head to the call center?

 

She shakes her head.

It

s late. Better to rest up one more night, give our plan a good think, and dive in with them tomorrow.

 

After a few moments on the new, unpaved, and significantly rougher road, Henry says,

What do you think? Do you think what we just saw is more of the same?

 


I do,

she answers.

But who knows how long that will last.

 

~ * ~

 

In his driveway he puts the truck into park but doesn

t shut it off. Before he can ask, Maya says,

I really have to get going, Henry. I have a lot to do tonight.

 

~ * ~

 

 

 

 

Endorsed (or at Least, to the Best

of Our Knowledge, Not Yet

Officially Condemned) by the Gods

 

 

 

 

Shug is in the driveway at eight the next morning. After several miles of silence en route to work, he asks Henry if he is feeling better.

 


I am, Shug. And you?

 

The older man smiles.

I am well. And, if I may, your employees are excited about your return.

 

Inside the call center Mahesh has the team gathered around a television. As Henry gets closer, he sees that they

re not re-viewing Pat and Audrey

s corporate creation video or a customer service lesson but watching a bootleg DVD of the American situation comedy
30 Roc
k
.
On the table alongside
the TV are two half-empty boxes of Dunkin

Munchkins. After an onscreen punch line is delivered and no one in the group laughs at the appropriate time, Mahesh shakes his head, pushes Pause, and with a blue marker on a white board begins to diagram the joke for them.

 

It takes Henry two pronounced clearings of the throat before Mahesh finally acknowledges him. He motions with his forefinger for Mahesh to come to him. Mahesh responds by holding up his forefinger.
Just a sec.
Henry shakes his head and mouths the word
Now.
Reluctantly, the young man walks away from the TV screen and stops beside Henry.

 


What

s going on, Mahesh?

 


Training. Immersion in the culture.

 


Watching a pirated sitcom?

 

Mahesh taps his temple with the same just-a-sec forefinger.

Not just any sitcom. Two-time Golden Globe winner. Out-of-the-box thinking, bro.

 


Where

d you get the doughnuts?

 


Had them
overnighted
. Verisimilitude.

 


Tell you what,

Henry says.

If they want to eat doughnuts and watch sitcoms, they can do it on their own time. Extra credit. With you. But right now we have to teach them basic phone protocol. Get them to buy into the fundamental mission of the company that

s paying them. Paying us. You down with that, bro?

 

Mahesh lowers his head, nods.

I am.

 

~ * ~

 

Ten minutes later, Mahesh, who today is wearing a blue-and-gold Los Angeles Lakers hat and a seemingly ironic T-shirt that says
Worldwide Economic Downturn: Team Leader,
deviates from practicing the call scenarios and launches into a long story about how he was almost cast as an extra in Mumbai during the filming of
Slum-dog Millionaire.

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