Tell My Dad (8 page)

Read Tell My Dad Online

Authors: Ram Muthiah

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Is it a bad dream?
She felt like Hermione Granger locked up in a dungeon. She held both armrests tightly, using a firm palm grip, and got up, bringing up the chair along with her body. A little relief formed in her face. She carried the chair by keeping a firm grip on the armrests and slowly walked toward the front door. The rope that tied her legs was long, but not too long. As she took a few steps with the chair on her back, she felt the resistance from the other end of the rope, which was tied to the leg of a monstrous couch. It did not move. One more deep breath and one more pull. She faced the couch and pulled her left leg in an effort to move the couch along. Thud. She lost her balance and fell on the floor along with the chair. The rope around her wrists tightened and triggered pain, which traversed to her biceps.

She bit her lips and controlled herself so as not to scream. Tears flowed down her chin. She composed herself and scanned her surroundings. To her left was a giant-sized leather couch and a wooden door to a room behind the couch. On her right, a big-screen television was mounted on the wall with the surround system below it. She faced the front door, which was closed, possibly locked, and surrounded by arch-shaped windows on both sides. She turned around to see what was behind her—a kitchen, large dining table, and the back door, which was shut.

She slid back into the chair and pushed her knee to the floor. At the same time, she held the firm grip on her chair and pushed to the left. Now, she was back to square one and stared at the flickering lights outside the window. She took a deep breath and prayed.

After a minute, she caught a glimpse of two gray-colored pit bull dogs through the window on her right, mounted three feet away from the front door. The dogs barked and jumped at the same time, trying to catch something. Then, both dogs looked to the right. The tall man slowly walked toward the dogs.

Her heart raced, and panic set in again.
Same guy
. Using all her strength, she lifted the chair and moved to her left. Then, she moved closer to the couch, creating a small sag in the rope. She moved along the front edge of the couch to stay close to it, to take full advantage of the sag. As she got closer to the window, mounted on the left side of the front door, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Help! Help me…Somebody help me…”

Seconds later, the front door was violently opened. The pit bulls charged in and came dangerously close to her face. The dogs’ eyes looked like flames in the middle of the forest. She screamed, “Go away!”

The man calmed the dogs and looked at the rope that bound her legs together. A smirk formed on his wrinkled face. He spit on the floor.

“You think you’re too smart, huh? You have any idea how many times I’ve done this?” he barked.

Teresa begged. “Please—please let me go. I’m not smart. You are smart. Please let me go.”

“What is that noise?
Help! Help!
” he mocked her. “Do you know there is no one around here to help you? You are sitting in an isolated house surrounded by cattle farms and mountains.”

He saw the terror in her face and loved it. “Do not worry. We are going to have a good time, okay? Thomas is a good boy; you will like him.”

Thomas?

“Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I’m a good girl. I don’t hurt anyone. Okay? Please listen to me.” She pleaded with her eyes.

“Okay. I’ll listen to you. Go on.” He sat down and ran his fingers down the rope attached to the couch.

She looked at him with teary eyes. “My name is Teresa. I am in seventh grade. I am the only daughter of my parents. I volunteer in Belmont library. I am a singer—”

He raised his right hand. “I don’t want to hear all this bullshit.”

“Please listen. I have a choir performance in Notre Dame Church in two days. I have to practice. It’s for God. I sing for God.” She paused for a second. “You do believe in God, right? Please let me go. I will pray for you.
Please
…”

He sat cross-legged, raised his chin up, and grinned. “
You
pray for me? Huh!” He shook his head back and forth. “Let me tell you something, little girl. There ain’t no God!”

Teresa sniffled. She pushed both palms together and fixed her gaze on him. Her eyes begged for mercy. She remembered the lyrics from the song she had been practicing in choir, “You bind us up when we’re broken,” and the lyrics gave her strength.

You bind us up when we’re broken in body and heart;

You fill us up when we’re empty; Your nature imparts

Perfect wisdom and guidance for life’s many tests;

Perfect comfort and healing and promise of rest,

Perfect comfort and healing and promise of rest.

Chapter 16

A
gent Theaker controlled his anger
. “Mr. Goldberg, we are doing everything we can to find your daughter. Right now, our entire force is on this case. Please work with us to help you.”

Gabriella held her husband’s arm tightly and made him sit down. Bill Goldberg looked up and cried, “We moved here because we thought this would be a safe place. We believed in cops taking care of our safety. Our neighborhood is supposed to be safe—” He felt the heavy pain in his chest. Gabriella gently squeezed his hands.

Bill Goldberg took a deep breath, looked at Theaker, and sobbed. “Teresa is my only daughter. Please find her.”

Theaker pulled out a chair and sat directly in front of Bill. “Mr. Goldberg, we want to narrow down our focus to find your daughter quickly. Do you have any enemies at work?”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t think of any.”

“Did you fire anyone recently?”

“No.”

“Did any of you notice strange behavior with Teresa’s schoolmates, friends in this complex, or anything that struck you as unusual?”

Bill shook his head. His tears continued to run down to his throat. He pulled a napkin from the coffee table and wiped the tears away. “You have to trust me on this. You are wasting time. Teresa wouldn’t run away. She is a happy child. She looks forward to every day. She is our reason to live. Her friends are very decent kids. No one gets into trouble. Some sick bastard took our daughter away. Please go and find her instead of asking me all these questions. You have no idea what we are going through.”

Theaker fixed his gaze on Bill. “Actually, I do…” He paused before adding, “We have FBI agents and the CARD team working round the clock. We placed a nationwide Amber Alert. Even if the bad guys move to a different state, we will still find them.”

He watched Bill sniffling and nodding without saying a word. He gave a silent nod to Detective King, walked out of the living room, and issued a series of instructions to the assistant special agents waiting in the hallway.

* * *

H
arrison’s phone
beeped with the Amber Alert at three minutes past eight o’clock. He moved his shopping cart out of the way and checked the text message on his phone. A twelve-year-old girl had been kidnapped in Belmont. His head started hurting badly just like every time he saw the Amber Alert. He abandoned the cart and walked out of the Safeway store, which was located at the corner of Ralston and Alameda. He heard the sirens in the distance.

The sirens grew louder. An ambulance sped through the intersection and took a left on Alameda. Two police cars followed the ambulance in four-second intervals. He rubbed his temple to make the headache go away and failed in that attempt. He ignored the car in the parking lot and decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

He crossed Ralston and took a small street leading to the water dog lake park. The sirens grew louder again. An ambulance zoomed down Carlmont Drive on his left and turned left to reach the apartment complex at the end of the street. Police cars followed.

He took long strides to cross Carlmont Drive and stopped at the entrance to the water dog lake park. He gazed at the FBI agents and Belmont police officers combing the pedestrian path from the park entrance to the end of the street where the ambulance was parked. A minute later, emergency personnel emerged from the corner building and wheeled a middle-aged man into the ambulance. A woman cried and ran behind.

The ambulance left the street with the sirens. Two police officers came out of the corner building. Then, he saw a familiar face.
Joshua Theaker.

His head hurt like it was going to explode any minute as he struggled to breathe. He slowly walked to his left and sat on the rocky ground near the entrance of the park, just below the sign board warning about the presence of mountain lions in the area. He felt dizzy and closed his eyes. Soon, darkness engulfed him.

Chapter 17
August 2006

A
s he walked slowly
along a narrow path, paved with sharp, tiny stones, Harrison wondered how the guide, walking a few yards ahead of him, was able to walk without any footwear. On his right, a cluster of beautiful peach trees blossomed and gave off a warm and spicy fragrance. Pine trees lined up and decorated the land just above the peach trees. To his left, a breathtaking green valley expanded far into the distance until it hit the Himalayan pine trees in the backdrop of the foothills.

The Tibetan guide turned and gave a sympathetic look to Harrison, who was obviously struggling to keep up. “Mr. Harrison, are you okay? We need to walk for two more kilometers.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. How often do you walk this path?”

“Every day, sir. I make my living because of tourists like you who visit the monasteries around here.”

“You go alone while walking back, right? Is it boring?”

“No, sir! I sing, you know. All the R. D. Burman songs, sir.” The guide blushed a little bit.

Harrison wanted to ask who that Burman was but decided on the contrary.

“R. D. Burman was a famous Bollywood music director, sir. I sing Bollywood songs all the time. Do you want to hear it?”

“It’s okay. I won’t understand much. Thanks for the offer though.”

Bollywood
was slang for the movie industry in Bombay, the city in Central India. Its influence had spread across to India’s neighboring countries, including Tibet.

The guide talked fast and nonstop. He listed the names of all the monasteries in the Lhasa area as if he had just memorized the names for the school exam. Then, he passionately talked about his school days in the Sera monastery. “You will surely like Sera monastery, sir. The monks are kind; they speak English very well, sir.”

Harrison wondered why there were so many
sirs
. “Did you study English there? You speak well.”

The guide blushed again. His eyes were lit up with pride. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it, sir!”

Now, they turned slightly to the right to climb a gentle slope. Harrison was awed by the breathtaking landscape on both sides of the walking path. “I see lots of roses here!”

“Yes, sir. These are wild roses, sir. That’s why the monastery is called Sera Monastery.
Sera
means ‘wild roses.’ You know, when the monastery was built in 1419, it was surrounded by wild roses. So, they named the monastery Sera. In 1959, the Chinese government started a revolt and destroyed Sera. You know, hundreds of monks were killed inside the monastery—”

The guide abruptly stopped walking. He looked sad. He looked up at the sky and pressed his palms together as if he were praying. After a few seconds, he started walking without saying a word.

Harrison silently walked behind the guide, who was deep in thought.

“Sometimes, I wonder if there
is
a God, you know,” the guide resumed his conversation.

“I don’t know. I want to find out.” Harrison removed his eyeglasses and wiped the dust with his shirt as he climbed and wondered how long he had to walk.

“Good luck with that, sir! I am sure monks have a lot to say on that subject.”

After fifteen more minutes of brisk walking, they reached the Sera Monastery. The monastery was surrounded by many small cottages, which were, in turn, surrounded by numerous wild roses. The cottages were basically small huts made of bamboo, mud, and palm leaves.

As he walked behind the guide toward the entrance to the monastery, he heard a calming bell sound coming from one of the cottages on his right. He spotted a huge golden tower decorated with colorful cloths on the monastery’s roof. A monumental tower added a divine look to the otherwise boring architecture of the monastery, which had been built using small rocks. Some of them were painted red, and some were left alone to linger with their own muddy gray.

The guide stopped in front of a giant-sized, floor-to-ceiling, twenty-foot door. He moved to the far-right corner of the door to reach a reverse-L-shaped rocky structure mounted firmly on the ground. A medium-sized copper bell hung from the top of the structure by a metal hook. The guide pulled the colorful, double-braided cotton rope, which was suspended from the center of the bell. He pulled it again as if he loved the sound coming from the copper bell. He was about to pull it again when the wooden front door was opened with a creaky sound. A man, five-foot-four, maybe thirty years old, with a clean-shaven head, fully covered in a hand-woven red robe, emerged and looked at Harrison with probing eyes.

The guide bowed and said, “This is Mr. Harrison. He is here for the meditation course.”

The man bowed with his palms closed. “My name is Monk Bagya Pravava. I am the director for the residential course here. I am glad you were able to safely make it here. May I ask, how do you know about our Monastery?”

“A friend in Brazil recommended that I take the meditation course from your Monastery.”

“God bless your friend!” Monk Bagya smiled warmly and politely signaled for Harrison to follow.

Although the building looked dirty from the outside, it was kept very clean inside. It was also much bigger than it looked from the outside. A good aroma—a combination of jasmine flowers and incense—filled the air. After they crossed two hundred feet from the front entrance and turned left slightly, a huge open space welcomed them. In the middle of the open space, he spotted a square-shaped stage, eight foot by eight foot by four foot, made of rock with four small steps on the front edge. Four monks sat cross-legged on the stage. One of them stood up and climbed down from the stage using the small sculpted steps when he saw them.

Monk Bagya bowed to the monk standing before him. “This is our guest, Mr. Harrison. He traveled all the way from America.” He turned to Harrison and said, “This is Monk Dharma. He is the head of the monastery.”

Monk Dharma bowed and said, “I pray God gives you enough strength to overcome the tragedy you have gone through.”

Harrison’s eyes twitched as he sensed a tickle in his chest. Monk Dharma gently touched Harrison’s head with his right palm. “Trust me; you are in the right place. Monk Bagya will take care of you for the next eight weeks. I will see you at the end of the course. May God be with you.” He bowed.

Harrison bowed before turning around and following Monk Bagya. As they walked toward the front door, he wondered how Monk Dharma would know about the tragedy when he had not said a word about it.

Monk Bagya turned left after coming out through the front door and briskly walked without looking back. Harrison walked slowly behind and observed the surroundings. Cold air was blowing from the mountains in the north. He asked, “It’s so cold here. How can you survive this without wearing any sweaters?”

Monk Bagya turned, looked at him for a moment, and kept walking. “It’s all in the mind, Mr. Harrison. You will discover it in a week. If the cold is unbearable, you can wear a triple robe.”

When he had signed up for the meditation course, wearing a hand-woven robe was not part of the plan. He started wondering about the scary possibility of wearing the hand-woven robe and walking barefoot. His thoughts about his future wardrobe were interrupted when Monk Bagya stopped before a bamboo hut and said, “This is your cottage. Please go in. I will follow you.”

Harrison was disappointed even before entering the hut. It looked small. The feeling of getting ripped off grew even stronger once he was inside the cottage. There was nothing. The hut was made mostly of mud, bamboo, and palm leaves. It was empty except for a few bamboo mats on the floor, a couple of books on the shelf, and a big mud pot in the corner. Apparently, the door was the window. He placed his backpack in the corner and looked around.

“Are you looking for a pillow, Mr. Harrison?”

“Yep. You read my mind. I can give you that!”

“I believe that you would be looking for a blanket as well?”

Now, he recognized the sarcasm. He stared at the smiling monk.

“Sorry to sound rude, Mr. Harrison. We have certain rules here. There is no pillow or blanket. You need to practice sleeping on the bamboo mat. You can use your hands as a pillow for the first few days until you get used to sleeping without a pillow. If you close the door, you won’t feel any cold inside. You do not need a blanket. We will teach you how to control your body temperature using your mind. Once you learn that, you will not need a sweater. Please join us for dinner in the main building in two hours. We expect more guests in this cottage by tomorrow.”

More guests! No kidding.

“How many people are going to stay in this hut?”

“Three guests including you. Our program focuses on combined mental strength. We have chosen your friends in this cottage based on your profile. I am sure you will not regret our choices. Please trust me. You will feel at home very soon.”

Harrison gave him a disgusted look. But the monk did not appear offended. Instead, he bowed and said, “I will see you at dinner.”

Harrison did not bow. He was angry and confused. He just nodded.

He threw the backpack inside the hut and made sure his wallet and phone were in his pants pocket. Then, he walked around the cottages. There were more than twenty cottages, each spaced apart by about a hundred feet. He spotted a well-built, Caucasian man, standing on one leg with his eyes closed in front of a cottage to his left. The man appeared to be mouthing something. Harrison moved closer. The man opened his eyes after hearing the footsteps coming toward him.

He smiled warmly. “Welcome to the monastery. I am Trent Trainor. Australian. I assume you are from South America?”

“California, actually.” Harrison introduced himself.

“Cool. You just arrived?”

“Yep. I was thrown in a hut. Just wondering if there is any bathroom around here.”

Trent pointed at the main building of the monastery. “There are many toilets and showers in the back of the building. Just go around. You won’t miss it. There are signs. You need to squat though, mind it!” He laughed loudly.

“Squatting? huh, I guess I can survive that. I tried that in Singapore airport just for the practice. I hope there is no water shortage here.”

“No worries for the water. We live in the Himalayas! There is always water here. Pure water.”

He thanked him and moved on. Trent Trainor resumed his one-legged pose, closed his eyes, and chanted mantras.

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