The Weight of Heaven (42 page)

my son’s worth.

He sat on his haunches and pulled Ramesh close to him. Father

and son sat in this position for a few minutes, staring at the water.

He kissed the top of the boy’s head. “You are my life,” he whispered.

“Always remember this.”

“I know, Dada.” This time, there was no mischief in the boy’s

voice.

“Chalo,”
Prakash said finally. “Let’s go to the market and buy

your ma a few things. Some Goanese sweets I needing to get her.

Then tomorrow morning, we will leave for Girbaug.”

“I want to stay, Dada. I like Goa.”

He kissed the boy again. “I know,
beta
. But so much school you’re

missing. And your ma will be waiting for us.”

They arrived in Girbaug at nine the next evening, armed with

goodies—
bebinca
and other sweets for Edna and Ramesh, two bottles of
feny
for Prakash, and two packets of Goanese cashews for

Ellie miss. As he walked up the driveway, Ramesh skipping ahead

of him, Prakash felt his chest tighten. Despite the failure of his mission, he had loved every minute he’d spent with his son. Now, he

would once again have to share Ramesh with others. He forced himself to remember the sweetness of their time together.

He belongs to me, he said to himself. This boy is mine and Edna’s.

No one else’s.

Chapter 30

Five days had gone by since Prakash had brought the boy back, and

Frank was still smarting from the insolence of the man. Prakash had

wandered back home as if he’d had every right to take off with his

son. And now he acted as if he was completely oblivious to the havoc

he had wreaked—the anxiety he had caused Edna, the expense of

the police search, the lost days of work the episode had cost Frank.

Prakash had, in fact, acted outraged when he’d heard that the police

had been looking for him all over Girbaug and in Aderbad. “What,

I don’t have the right to go somewhere with my own son?” Frank

had heard him yell at Edna. “Tell your ’Merican bossman to call

off his pet dogs. What police charge me with? Taking my son on

holiday?”

He had wanted to march out of his house then and smash in the

bastard’s face. Pulverize it and then stand back and watch in satisfaction. But many things had stopped him: the memory of revulsion on

Ellie’s face as he had gotten more and more involved in the police’s

search for Prakash. Her hostility toward Gulab, who had frequently

stopped by the house with the latest reports. Also, the memory of

Ramesh comforting his father after Frank had pushed him in the

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 1 5

courtyard. And finally, a beaming Ramesh walking into their house,

bearing gifts from Goa for them. Looking for all the world as if he’d

just returned from an honest-to-goodness real family vacation.

Ellie had been touched by the gifts. Well, let her be duped. He

knew better. Prakash had had every intention of running away with

the boy. The train ticket to Aderbad had been a ruse, to throw them

off his scent. The fellow was cleverer than he looked, he’d give

him that. Though why he’d returned after five days was a mystery.

Probably ran out of money faster than he’d anticipated. Or maybe

he had another trick up his sleeve. Maybe he was lulling them all

into complacency, so that the next time he eloped with Ramesh,

nobody would be worried. Well, he would just have to watch the

boy like a hawk. Maybe have Satish drop him off and pick him up

from school.

Frank looked at the stack of papers in front of him. He couldn’t

believe how much work had piled up during the time he’d stayed

home. Yet the thought of attacking the pile made his eyes ache. He

also had over eighty e-mails in his in-box. Half of them seemed to

be from fucking Pete, about the consignment that hadn’t left Girbaug yet.

He rubbed his forehead and stared out of the window, trying

to figure out a way to thwart any plans Prakash might have for

Ramesh. His phone rang and he eyed it with distaste before answering it. “Hello?” he said.

The caller let out a sigh that felt like a gust of wind in his ear.

“Frank? This is Pete.”

“Hello, Pete.”

“Listen, this is a quick call. What’s going on with the consignment?”

So that’s how we play it these days, Frank thought. No small

talk, no asking about Ellie. And this from a man who had been in

his wedding and a pallbearer at Benny’s funeral.

3 1 6 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

“I think we’ll have it shipped out tomorrow.”

“You think? I need more of a reassurance than that, Frank. It’s

already been—”

“I know how long it’s been delayed, Pete. I’m working on it.”

“You’re working on it? I don’t believe this. Listen, Frank, you

seem to have forgotten that you have a friggin’ job. That we’re not

paying you to sit at home and—”

“And you seem to have forgotten the fact that I’ve made you

more money than any other person in your company, Pete.”

“So is that what you’re doing? Resting on your laurels?”

“No. I already told you the order’s just about ready to be

shipped.”

There was a long, painful silence. And then Pete Timberlake

said, “You know what, Frank? I’ve been thinking about this. I want

you to come home. I’m pulling you out of India.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. Your contract’s up. And really, we need an

Indian face to head the plant. It’s time for you to come home.”

“Pete, have you lost it? You know I’m in the process of negotiating the new machinery for the plant that will cut our labor costs by

a third—”

Pete laughed. “Have
I
lost it? That’s precious, Frank. You’re the

one who blows off a deadline and sits at home moping around because some poor son of a bitch takes his own son on vacation, and

you ask me if
I’ve
lost it?”

His hands were shaking so hard he needed both of them to hold

the phone. “Listen, Pete. I’ll get the consignment out by tomorrow,

I promise. Hell, even if I have to stay here the whole damn night I’ll

make sure it’s done.”

Pete sighed. “Frank, it’s more than just the consignment. Look,

with all the labor trouble you’ve had and stuff, I just think it’s better

if you’re home.”

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 1 7

“Better for whom, Pete?” Frank said.

There was no mistaking the coldness in Pete’s voice. “Why, best

for HerbalSolutions, Frank. For God’s sake. Don’t make this personal.”

Pete, you asshole, we’re friends, Frank wanted to scream at him.

I’ve changed diapers on your sons. Who the fuck do you think

you’re talking to in this stilted, formal way? Instead, he said, “Look,

Pete. Don’t make me beg. Jesus, Ellie’s gonna have a fit when she

finds out.”

“Frank.” Pete’s voice was quiet. “What’re you gonna do? Live

in exile the rest of your life? You and Ellie? India isn’t your home,

bud. You gotta face up to . . . what has happened and move on. You

know? I don’t think this is healthy, the fact that you even blew us off

at Christmas.”

He was suddenly glad that Pete was sitting halfway across the

globe from him. Because he would’ve physically hurt Pete if they’d

been in the same room. You damn, smug prick, he thought, sitting in your office with your life intact, lecturing me about what’s

healthy.

“Frank? You still there?”

“Yup. I’m just—” He tried to say more, but his voice cracked.

His left eye began to twitch.

“Oh, shit,” Pete breathed. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Frank.

But my mind’s made up. I need you back here. You can take—I

dunno—two to three months to wrap things up over there. I can

send Stan to help you, if you like.”

“Okay,” he said, wrestling with his emotions. He’d be damned if

he’d break down in front of Peter Timberlake. “Listen, I need your

word—you can’t mention this to Ellie. I—I need to tell her at the

right time.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. That’s your business.”

“So I have your word on this?”

3 1 8 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

“Yup. But you better tell her soon, kiddo. Two months will go

by fast.”

“Sure I can’t get you to change your mind, Pete?” he asked,

hating himself for the beseeching quality his voice took on.

“Afraid not, Frank.”

“Okay. We’ll talk later,” Frank said.

He hung up the phone, and his first thought was of Ramesh.

Leaving India meant leaving Ramesh behind. He tried to get out

of his chair and couldn’t. His legs felt like they were made of hay,

his head felt stuffed with cotton wool. Shit, he thought, maybe he

was getting sick again. But even as he thought this, he knew that

the truth was that he suffered not from the illness of the body but a

disease of the soul. If love could be called a disease, that is.

The intensity of his emotions stunned him. When on earth had

Ramesh become this important to his life? How was it that the

thought of leaving India and reuniting with Scott, his mom, all the

other people who had always lit up his galaxy, gave him no comfort

or joy? He admitted the answer to himself: Ramesh had become the

brightest star in that galaxy, his sun, and without the sun his future

looked barren and dark. Without the sun—without the son—there

was only the Father, lost and lonely, with nothing to guide his path.

He thought of his rituals with Ramesh—their morning runs on

the almost deserted beach; the monthly haircuts that he and the boy

got at the salon at the Hotel Shalimar; the Sunday dinners at home,

where Frank taught Ramesh how to use the proper silverware, even

as Edna waited on them and beamed proudly at the sight of her son

cutting into the chicken with his fork and knife.

And here was Pete wanting to take all this away from him. Wanting him to abandon Ramesh as if he was some litter that he’d picked

up on the beach. He fought the urge to get on the phone again and

plead with Pete or even threaten to quit. But he couldn’t risk Pete

calling his bluff. Fuck Pete. Maybe he’d get a job with another multinational in India. But then what? he thought. There were no other

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 1 9

foreign companies in Girbaug. If he was very, very lucky he might

get something in Bombay. But that was a long shot, and even if

he did, he might be able to see Ramesh once a month. How soon

before the boy fell back in his studies, how long before he forgot his

table manners, before his English went from bad to worse? Losing

Ramesh slowly, over time, as he succumbed to the pull of his culture

and family dysfunctions, would be more painful than losing him all

at once.

Losing Ramesh was not an option. No. Ramesh had to go with

them to America. He had to figure out a way to make it happen.

There was nothing for the boy here in Girbaug.

He needed to think, think. Needed to buy some time. One thing

was for sure—Ellie could not know about Pete’s ultimatum. He

would have to carry on as if everything was normal. He looked

around his office, still pinned to his chair. This is my life, he thought,

and the bastard who calls himself my friend is destroying it. Making

me renounce it. And I will—I’ll give up the chauffeured cars and

the live-in help and the free housing and all the baubles Pete had

strewn my way when he had wanted me to run the plant. But I will

never give up on the true treasure, the real gem. Ramesh.

Chapter 31

“So what’s he doing that’s making you so nervous?” Nandita

asked as Ellie and she wandered through the narrow alleys of Agni

Bazaar.

Ignoring the frenzied cries of the vendors, Ellie thought back

to the number of times she’d walked into a room and caught Frank

talking to himself, as if he was losing some furious argument. And

the way he sat for hours on the porch, staring at the sea, looking

almost comatose at times, wildly animated at others. And oddest of

all was the tic in his left eye.

“He twitches,” she said.

“What do you mean, he twitches?” Nandita asked.

“Just that. I mean, he’s jumpy and anxious, his eyes dart about,

and well, he twitches. Plus there’s this weird thing his left eye is

doing.”

A skinny youth tried to brush up against Nandita, and she fixed

him a baleful glare as she skillfully avoided him. “You think Frank

is depressed?”

“I don’t know. I’d love to put him on an antidepressant and have

him try Xanax for a few weeks. But he won’t hear of it.”

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 3 2 1

“He’s still under a lot of pressure, eh? But at least now that

Ramesh is back, things will ease up.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Ellie paused for a second. “It’s funny—I thought

when he found out why Prakash took Ramesh to Goa, he’d be relieved. I thought it was such a sweet gesture. But if anything, he

seems even more angry.”

“Well, he probably feels a little foolish, don’t you think, El? I

mean, the police search and all that was a little excessive.”

“Tell me about it. I begged him to not do it, but he was like a

madman. Unstoppable.” Ellie shuddered. “It was an awful, awful