2Promises Page 9
Beth’s attention was snapped by a sharp knock at the window. She was jolted to look at the face peering in. The car had stopped at a light, and an old woman pushed her face close to the window. She had a pained expression, begging eyes, and a weathered, wrinkled face. A faded green scarf wrapped around her head hid her hair. With one small withered hand, she wrapped her knuckles on the window, keeping eye contact with Beth. Beth could feel an anxiety rising deep within her. Was it pity, shame, or sorrow that she felt? Perhaps she felt uncomfortable because she simply did not know what to do in these circumstances. She looked at Sanjeev for some type of signal. Sanjeev was stoic; he stared forward at the light and totally ignored the old woman. She did not exist.
Beth looked at the old woman, she was clearly begging. She was shouting something in desperation, but it was illegible, it was not in English. The old woman sensed the light was about to change. She shuffled quickly to one side and pushed her other arm close to the window. She had a very thin appendage, bone thin. The bone was bent backwards and stuck out 90 degrees from her shoulder. Her arm was horribly deformed and had no muscle or flesh on it. It had been an unfortunate liability for this woman throughout her long life. The old woman shouted something in desperation, as she quickly moved back to let the taxi speed off. Beth was in shocked silence; that experience was not very pleasant. Sanjeev sensed this and offered words of advice.
“There are many beggars in India Miss. You must not give anything. If your heart becomes weak and you give money, food, water, you will attract a crowd of beggars very quickly. This is very dangerous they are very desperate people. They will try to take advantage; they will do anything to survive. If you keep yourself to yourself, then no harm will come to you.”
“Got it. Thank you Sanjeev,” said Beth still shaken.
“My pleasure Miss,” replied Sanjeev. “We’re close to the hotel now Miss, a few more minutes only,” said Sanjeev wobbling his head. “The airport that you arrived at was closed for a while last week you know. A pig strayed onto the runway and stopped a British Airways flight,” laughed Sanjeev. “Perhaps the pig knew more than we did,” he said laughing loudly.
“Pigs and dogs,” said Beth.
“Like a farm at the airport,” laughed Sanjeev. “It used to be called the Dum Dum airport, because it’s located in Dum Dum. Then some official thought that a better name was in order. Now it’s called the Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose International Airport. International, that’s a laugh. Seventy five percent of the flights are domestic. Not such a great name choice. Not easy for international foreigners to remember. People still call it Dum Dum, much better.”
Beth had to agree. The taxi sped southwards into the city.
“You’re staying at The Astor Hotel, very beautiful hotel, we are close,” informed Sanjeev.
He pulled into a driveway flanked with a black metal railing. Beth was struck by the tall, thin building, that was, The Astor. As the car stopped, a couple of men in uniform approached Sanjeev. They seemed friendly enough. One had a pole with a mirror attached to it and was inspecting underneath the taxi. The other walked around the taxi looking in.
He looked at Beth and smiled, “Good morning Miss, welcome to The Astor,” has said.
Sanjeev leaned back, “More security than normal due to the elections,” he explained.
Beth looked at the hotel as the car was being inspected. This would be home base. The morning sun was shining brightly on the hotel, which was spectacular. The hotel was a hundred years old. The building was an example of stunning Victorian architecture. You could not miss it, due to the bright red brick and white trim. The hotel glowed vibrant red in the strong sun. Beth looked at the wall with a large white arch and a red brick interior. In the center was white lettering set against the red brick; “The Astor Hotel.”
“This was going to be good,” thought Beth.
It was a short walk to the front entrance, a door surrounded by white trim. Sanjeev approached Beth.
“Do you know about the news with Mr. Anwar?”
“Yes.”
“I’m very sorry. I will give you my card; it has my cell number on it. Mr. Anwar hired me to look after you. You need not worry; Mr. Anwar has taken care of my expenses and your hotel expenses. You need not pay anything. Please call at any time, when you need transportation. I’m at your service Miss. I will be taking my leave for now and wait for your call,” explained Sanjeev handing Beth a small business card.
Beth tucked the card into her back jeans pocket. A uniformed hotel attendant was carrying Beth’s backpack and motioned her in the direction of the hotel entrance. Beth noticed a tall tree growing inside the small courtyard. Beth thanked Sanjeev and walked towards the front door. She was in the heart of the city and could hear traffic and horns. Beth took a deep breath and entered the hotel lobby. The sun was scorching her back. She walked into The Hotel Astor and realized how comfortable the air conditioned reception felt. The rich colored wood that framed each door well and the reception desk impressed her. Behind the reception desk was a young woman standing to attention in her bright red tunic. She beamed a welcoming smile Beth’s way and waited for Beth to approach. The reception desk was made of wood and was waist high. The walls were a cream color contrasting with the wood wainscoting and shiny cream floor tiles. The walls behind the reception were also wood panels. Beth could see a waiting room off to the right. It had a large red leather couch and a couple of green potted ferns. She was impressed. The hotel looked older from the outside. Inside, the hotel looked very modern and clean. As Beth approached the desk the young woman greeted her.
“Welcome to The Astor Hotel, can I see your passport please?”
Beth fumbled for her passport and handed it over.
“Miss Martindale, we have you down for a double room. Our instructions say it is prepaid for three weeks with a rolling three week renewal, is that correct?” asked the receptionist.
“That’s correct,” said Beth trying not to sound surprised.
The receptionist placed a form and a pen in front of Beth. She asked Beth to fill out section A. It contained basic information, name, address, country, and email address. She completed the information and turned the form around.
“Is one room key sufficient?” inquired the receptionist.
“Yes, that’s fine, thank you.”
The receptionist gave Beth her plastic card room key. She peered into her computer screen and said, “Oh, please wait. I have an envelope for you when you check in. This came from England,” she said giving Beth the package. She motioned to the attendant to escort Beth to her room. The attendant jumped to attention. He was carrying Beth’s backpack and quickly walked over to Beth.
“Room 323 please,” said the receptionist.
The attendant walked Beth to the elevators and delivered her bag to the room. He entered the room with Beth, and began a long story about the hotel, how to work the air conditioning, where the fridge was, and how to establish an Internet connection. Finally, Beth understood the motive for his delay. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some Indian Rupees. She did not recognize the bills and pulled the first one out. She gave it to the attendant who stopped talking and thanked Beth. He glanced down at the note in his hand and began to thank Beth repeatedly.
“If there is anything you want, you call the desk and ask for Ved,” he said.
Beth did not know how much she had given Ved but he seemed very pleased. Ved wheeled away and closed the door behind him. Finally she had made it to India and was now safe in her room. The room was really clean and spacious. It had light colored wooden floors, beige walls, and earth tones, with peach and brown furniture. It was modern, with a double bed, LCD thin TV, and Indian wall prints, with accent lights. Beth approached the desk in her room. It was neatly arranged with a writing pad and stationary. The stationary was beige colored, like the room, with gold, embossed writing. The notepad read; The Astor Hotel, 15 Shakespeare Sarani, Kolkata, 700071, telephone - 91 33 2282
9957/58/59.
Beth tore a page from the notepad and tucked it into her backpack. “At least I will remember where I live,” she thought. “Well Beth, I think Anwar’s looking after you,” she said looking upwards to the heavens. “I will make you proud Anwar, I promise,” said Beth gently.
Beth explored the room, the bathroom, the closet, the safe, and the mini bar. Everything was exceptionally clean, modern, and she was pleased. She did not know what to expect, but this exceeded her expectations. Anwar may not have selected the largest hotel in Kolkata but he picked a good one. Beth looked at the alarm clock and it informed her that the time was 10.30am. Beth had a long shower to clean her body and refresh her mind. She felt better as she dressed in the hotel robe and slippers. They were comfortable and smelt of flowers. Beth lay on the bed and reached for the envelope she had been given. Marked on the front, in neat handwriting, were the words, “Beth Martindale.” Beth opened the large brown envelope and emptied the contents onto the bed. Inside, was a letter with a yellow post-it note attached? A sealed envelope lay unopened. Beth picked up the letter and read the post-it note. It was handwritten in the same neat style as the front of the original envelope.
The post-it note read, “This letter was emailed to the hotel. Specific instructions were left to print and deliver this to Miss Martindale when she checks in.” There was a signature, but unlike the writing, it was difficult to read. Beth removed the yellow sticky and attached it to the original envelope. She unfolded the letter and started to read. The letter contained a company name which read, “Ruby, Clary and Fitch; Barristers and Solicitors.
* * * * *
My Dear Beth,
I‘ve left strict instructions with my lawyers to get this note to you should I pass away. The fact that you are reading this means that I have left this world and started my journey to that better place. I’m devastated that I did not get a chance to meet my Rose. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. I’m very happy to have met you Beth. I’m proud of your wonderful generosity to help me convey this message of affection to Rose. I think I know you Beth. I know you will find Rose and deliver my letter to her. I hope you find what you are looking for in life and I’m sure you will. We had a simple relationship, and for you to put your life on hold, to do this for me is an unexplainable miracle. I knew I didn’t have much time left and that my health was failing. I trust the Hotel is adequate and that Sanjeev is looking after you. I have known Sanjeev since he was a little boy. He’s a good soul and will continue to help you. Good luck and may Lord Ganesha remove all obstacles for you on your search. I will be cheering for you in whatever place I find myself, but I’ll be supporting you. Beth, I cannot thank you enough. I have enclosed another letter for you. Indulge me. This letter is for you to open privately, once you’ve found Rose and delivered the letter.
Your Eternal Friend,
Anwar.
* * * * *
Beth put the letter on the bed and felt her eyes starting to tear. “Eternal friend,” thought Beth.
Beth placed her head onto the soft pillow. She had only managed to sleep briefly on the plane ride. Beth’s body clock was confused, and she could feel herself drifting into sleep. She tried to fight it but it was useless. She was asleep in minutes.
“You made it to India,” Subra said in a voice tinged with excitement.
“My body clock is a bit out of whack.”
“True, that will last about a day. You’re only allowed a quick nap. I will make sure that I wake you after we’ve talked. You should try to stay awake during the day and sleep at night. It will help you adjust to local time faster. I can sense your energies are not resonating with the local energies yet. We need to fix that quickly,” said Subra.
“That’s good. I’m sad from the news of Anwar and his letter,” thought Beth.
“Anwar was a good and honorable man. He’s now in the spirit world and cured of that wretched cough. Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory. Health is not valued till sickness comes.”
“I need to get started and find the trail to Rose. I won’t find her here in the hotel room,” thought Beth with a feeling of impeding urgency.
“The address where Rose was taken to the orphanage is close to the hotel. You should be able to pay a visit today. That would be a good start. Listen to your body we need you healthy and fit to do this. I have a feeling Beth. I’m feeling that the search for Rose will help us on our journey to the portal. It just feels right,” affirmed Subra.
“Really. It’s good you feel that way. I was feeling guilty for doing this and not finding the portal,” thought Beth. “You knew that didn’t you?”
“The two are connected. We’ll find Rose together and she’ll help us find the portal. She may not know that she’s helping us but I suspect she will,” said Subra in a hopeful voice. “You need to start your journey again. You go, just remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It’s designed to make its own people comfortable. You will travel the world in search of what you need and return home to find it.” Subra’s voice tailed off.
Beth could recognize the feeling. Subra had decided it was time for her to wake. He would well up energy and shoot it into her brain. This made her senses acute. Any sound or thought would wake her. She woke to the sun streaming through the hotel window. It beckoned her to come outside and begin her adventure. She felt better, full of energy and raring to start her quest. Beth jumped up off the bed, flipped off her hotel slippers, and dropped her robe to the floor.
“This is going to be a great day. I’m going to make you proud Anwar,” said Beth.
Beth dressed quickly in a loose fitting white tee shirt and jeans. She picked out a pair of clean socks and laced up her running shoes. Beth grabbed a small leather wallet. She loaded it with money, ID, and a credit card. She slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans. Beth retrieved Sanjeev’s card from her rear pocket. Beth started to panic there was no contact information? Beth turned the card over and in black ink was scribbled a cell phone number.
“Off to a fine start,” thought Beth. “No. Don’t beat yourself up just go with the flow. Don’t fight fate,” thought Beth.
Beth moved towards the hotel safe and placed the envelopes, letters, cash, and passport inside. She closed the safe and entered a pass code that she would remember. “4545” was the code she selected. “45” was the number of Beth’s cottage on Sun Street in Haworth. Haworth felt a million miles away as she entered the code. Beth had removed one document from the pile. It was a letter signed by Anwar that contained the name and address of the orphanage. It identified Rose’s last known location many years ago. Anwar had provided a contact name, a person he thought worked at the orphanage. She folded the paper and tucked it into her back pocket. Beth went into the bathroom, brushed her hair, and tied it back with an elastic band. She looked at the business card and headed for the phone. A small plastic card was placed next to the phone. In several languages it gave instructions to secure an outside line. Beth followed the instructions and phoned Sanjeev.
“Hello?”
“It’s Beth; can you pick me up at The Astor? I need to go somewhere.”
“Sure, sure, ten minutes,” said Sanjeev.
“Thanks, I’ll be waiting in the lobby.”
The phone clicked as Sanjeev hung up. Beth replaced the receiver and tucked the business card into her back pocket. She headed for the door and grabbed the plastic room key from the light slot in the wall. Beth unlatched the door and headed out into the hall. She closed the door behind her. She headed for the elevators to take her to the lobby. Beth waited in the lobby; she did not want to sit in the large red couch. The desk attendant looked at Beth and smiled.
“Do you need transportation Miss?”
“No, thank you, I have a driver. Thank you for asking.”
“My pleasure,” was the response.
Beth looked at her watch. It had seemed a long time and she was getting impatient.
>
“Where was Lord Ganesha? Why wasn’t he removing the obstacles? Damn it,” thought Beth. “I didn’t bring my Lord Ganesha. He’s late, I’m going back for it.” Beth raced back to her room and quickly retrieved the small wooden Lord Ganesha. She tucked him into her jeans front pocket. You could see a small lump in the front of her jeans but you would hardly notice. When Beth arrived in the lobby Sanjeev met her with a large smile.