Lucky T (24 page)

"And likewise, all this is not necessary," Mr. Shah said, looking around at the flower beds.

"No, it is," she told him as she poured out the juice for the kids. "We did something wrong and we want to repay you. Right, kids?"

"Yeah," Dash said, slurping up his drink.

"Sheesh! What is that stuff?" Carrie asked as the kids all chugged it and licked their lips. Whatever it is, it can't be better than Yoo-Hoo, can it?

"Have you never had sugarcane juice?" Mr. Shah asked.

"No," Carrie replied.

"Oh, then you must try it. It is the sweetest nectar on earth," he told her.

Carrie looked down into the empty pitcher and shrugged.

"No nectar for me," she joked.

"Come inside," Mr. Shah told her. "We will get more."

"Okay. Thanks," Carrie said. "You guys keep working. I'll be right back."

The kids returned to their flower beds with renewed energy. Either the sugarcane juice was magical or it had enough sugar in it to send a small horse into insulin shock. Whatever the case might be, it was all good to Carrie.

"So, tell me more about this CCS you came from," Mr. Shah said as they walked up the long, wide drive.

"It sounds awful, but I don't know much about how it all works--like where they get their funds or anything,"

Carrie said. "What I do know is that the place is run perfectly. The kids take classes with this amazing woman and there's a lot of studying and drawing and sports. It's a great place to work."

"I assume they take donations?" Mr. Shah said.

"I guess," Carrie said. "Why?"

"I would like to make one," Mr. Shah told her as they reached the front door of the house. "You impressed me when you came to my door this morning.

Not many people would admit to doing wrong. I would like to support a place that teaches such values."

"Wow. Even though we trashed the place first, then offered to clean it up?" Carrie asked.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Miss Fitzgerald," he said with a small smile. "Not everyone tries to correct them."

Carrie grinned as he opened the door for her. She was so glad that everything was working out. Well, almost everything.

"Whoa," she said as she stepped inside. A cool blast of air hit her like a bolt of lightning. "Do you have air conditioning?"

"A guilty pleasure, I'm afraid," he said with a laugh. "You know, it is nice having people around the house again. My children have all moved out."

"That's right," Carrie said, suddenly remembering. "Is one of your sons a basketball player?"

Mr. Shah led Carrie through a plushly decorated living room with colorful pillows and couches strewn everywhere. Deep rugs lined the marble floor and a gilded frame hung over a massive fireplace, holding a painting of one of the Hindu gods. It was a beautiful home, and once again she was struck by the stark differences between this place and the orphanage just blocks away.

"Yes. My youngest, Kunal, is on the India Olympic team," Mr. Shah said, visibly brightening. "We are very proud of him."

They walked into the kitchen together, a huge, bright room with marble countertops and a double oven that her mother would have salivated over.

"Do you like basketball ?" Mr. Shah asked as he opened the refrigerator.

"I'm on my team back home and I've been teaching the kids at the shelter," Carrie told him. "They love it."

"I should tell Kunal to stop by when he is in town next," Mr. Shah said. "I am sure he would be happy to play with the kids."

"Real y?" Carrie said. "They would love that. Is he going to be home soon?"

"Yes. In fact, the whole team will be in Calcutta for some press events the week after next," he said, pouring out a glass of juice for her from another pitcher.

Carrie took the glass when he held it toward her. Some part of her brain knew she should be thanking him, but it was too busy wildly formulating a plan.

The entire India Olympic basketball team would be in town in just two weeks? That would put them here just before she had to leave to go home and give her just enough time to pul off the coolest event in the history of cool events.

"Mr. Shah, you know how you said you wanted to support the shelter?" Carrie said. "What if I had an idea of how you could help them in an even bigger way? Maybe more than anybody else has ever done before."

Mr. Shah raised his eyebrows, intrigued, and smiled. "I would say, tell me all about it."

"Come on, Dash! Pass it! Pass! You can get around him! He's not that big!" Carrie yelled, earning a round of laughter from the spectators behind her.

Out on the gleaming court of the St. Xavier College gymnasium, Dash expertly passed the ball by Vijay's son Kunal, who was at least four times his size, right into the waiting hands of Trina, who turned and took the shot. One of Kunal's teammates made a lunge for the ball , but he was too late. It bounced off the backboard and through the hoop.

"Woo-hoo!" Carrie cheered, laughing over the antics of the Olympic team as they all hung their heads. Obviously they were letting the CCS kids win, but they were doing a great job of faking an effort.

Trina and Manisha slapped hands, then rushed down the court to get on defense. The ball was passed to Em Siddiqui, the tallest guy on the Olympic team. As he jogged up court to take his shot, Dash jumped to knock the ball away and ended up tripping into Em's side. Once he was there, Dash seemed to think this was a good defensive strategy and just held on, pressing the side of his face into Em's hip and letting his feet drag.

"Dash! What're you doing!? This isn't tackle football !" Carrie cried.

Em laughed and struggled toward the basket. Then Akhtar and Shiva joined Dash, all of them hanging on to Em around the waist. The audience applauded and cheered as Em continued to crack up laughing, lifting the ball toward the basket. Finally, with all the weight on him, he tripped and the ball bounced away. Shiva instantly let go, grabbed up the ball , and raced for the basket on the other end. He was so tiny that none of his shots had gone anywhere near the hoop all night. But his face was so determined--his lips pressed together, his eyes wide--that Carrie was sure he was going to make this shot.

When Shiva was a few feet from the hoop, Kunal suddenly scooped the little boy up from behind and held him above his head. If Shiva was surprised, he didn't show it. He simply dropped the ball through the hoop and raised his arms in triumph. Just then the buzzer went off, sounding the end of the game.

Carrie instinctively glanced at the scoreboard as everyone in the jam- packed stands jumped to their feet, applauding the win of the CCS kids, 44-30, over the India Olympic team.

"Yeah!" Carrie shouted, clapping as hard as she could as the kids and their heroes high-fived and hugged in the center of the court. She glanced to the corner and saw Mr. Banarjee happily shaking hands with Mr. Shah. Thanks to the older man's help, the charity game between CCS and the pride of Indian basketball had been highly publicized in all the right circles. Mr. Shah had persuaded all his friends to buy tickets for their families and word had spread like wildfire. The turnout had been even larger than they had expected and Carrie couldn't help beaming with pride. It was hard to believe she and Mr. Shah had come together to organize the biggest fund-raiser in CCS history.

If I had never gone back to apologize, none of this would have happened, she thought, glancing behind her at Dee, who was sitting halfway up the stands with the other staff members, Doreen, and Celia. He smiled slightly and she smiled back. It was the most civil contact between them in the two weeks since she had strode back into CCS. They had both been avoiding contact with each other. Carrie had tried to get up the nerve to reach out to Dee, but every time she chickened out. There was only one day left, though. If she didn't mend fences with him soon, she might never have the chance.

The kids ran over to Carrie and started shouting.

"We did it, Miss Carrie! We kicked their butts!" Akhtar announced.

"Yes, you did! You guys were amazing," she told them, ruffling Shiva's hair.

"We know," Dash said, puffing his chest out slightly.

"Well, I'm really proud of all of you," Carrie said, looking into each of their smiling faces. She couldn't believe she was going to have to say good-bye to them the very next day, this time for real. But at least she would leave knowing for sure she had done something good here.

She caught a glimpse of Mr. Banarjee walking toward her and stood up straight. Over the last two weeks she and the CCS director had worked together a lot and she had come to realize that he was actually pretty cool, even if he was a little strict. The one thing that was clear was that he cared about these kids more than anything in the world.

"Congratulations, Miss Fitzgerald," he said with a little bow. "We have raised more money tonight than CCS normally sees in a year."

"Whoa," Trina said.

"I second that whoa," Carrie replied. "Real y?"

"Yes. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your hard work," Mr. Banarjee said. "And so do the children, right, kids?"

"Yeah!" the basketball team cheered, causing Carrie's heart to swell .

There was a sudden peal of feedback from a microphone and then Mr. Shah's voice filled the gym.

"On behalf of my son Kunal and the entire Olympic team, we would like to thank the children of CCS for putting on such a competitive game this evening," he said.

Again the room rang with applause and the kids all stood up a little bit straighter.

"Because of the amazing attendance for tonight's event, Mr. Lalit Banarjee and I have decided to make this game a yearly tradition to benefit CCS,"

Mr. Shah continued, smiling at Carrie. "So everyone make sure to come back next year. We promise another great match."

Carrie grinned as Mr. Shah and Kunal came over to shake her hand. They were trailed by a few reporters with notepads and tape recorders and a bunch of photographers as wel .

"May we take your photograph with your team?" a woman in a purple sari asked, holding up a digital camera. "It's for the Times of India."

"Oh, okay," Carrie said, flustered. "Kids! Let's line up for a team picture!"

She and Mr. Banarjee got all the kids in line and Carrie stood at the center in the back, one hand on Dash's shoulder, the other on Trina's. As she grinned for the camera and flashes exploded all around, Carrie really did feel like part of the team. And she had just recorded the biggest win of her life.

Carrie was packing her things that evening in her small bedroom. She was jittery with nerves. In less than two days she would be home and would have to deal with things she had put off thinking about for weeks. Like reuniting with Piper. The whole thing with Jason felt as if it had happened a mil ion years ago. And the less Jason mattered, the more Carrie realized she had been way too hard on her best friend.

Now all she could do was hope Piper would be open to seeing her, even though Carrie had never written her back. She had started a few letters, but crumpled each one of them up after writing a few paragraphs. Nothing she wrote seemed to be able to convey how sorry she was for being so cold.

What if things between Piper and me have changed forever? Carrie wondered, her stomach twisting up into a huge knot.

She shook her head and cleared her throat, folding clothes a little more vigorously. There was no use obsessing about it until she was standing in front of Piper, asking if they could put everything behind them.

Manisha knocked on the door, effectively snapping Carrie into the present. She hung back tentatively with Asha and Trina behind her, as if Carrie had some sort of contagious il ness and they weren't sure whether it was safe to enter.

"I'm not dying," Carrie said with a laugh, remembering the stupid antics with Doreen. "I'm just going back to America. Come in."

The girls stepped into the room, followed by Dash and Akhtar. Al of them looked solemn but somehow excited at the same time. Carrie sensed something was up and then noticed that Manisha had both hands behind her back. This was strange. The girl talked with her hands more than Carrie's aunt Rosalene, the most Italian of the Italian side of her family.

"What's going on?" Carrie asked, narrowing her eyes.

"We got you a going-away present," Dash told her.

"Hope you like it!" Asha put in.

"How sweet! What is it?" Carrie asked, looking at the little line of kids. "Are you going to sing for me or something?"

"No, it's this," Trina said.

She pulled on Manisha's arm, revealing the delicate necklace that hung from the little girl's fingers. It was made of tiny brown and gold beads with one silver medal ion hanging in the center.

"Oh, wow," Carrie said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Manisha placed the necklace reverently in her hands. "It's so pretty."

"We made it!" Asha said proudly.

"You did?" Carrie asked.

"Miss Ruma helped," Dash said. "And Dee bought the beads for us."

Carrie raised her eyebrows in fascination. He was a part of this? Interesting . . .

"But I picked out the medal ion," Manisha told her.

Carrie lifted the silver disk and studied it for the first time. Etched into the surface was a primitive picture of a human baby with an elephant's head. The creature was vaguely familiar to Carrie, but she couldn't place where she had seen it before.

"Who's this?" she asked.

"That is Ganesha. He is the god who removes all obstacles," Akhtar told Carrie. "We call on him to bless all our important events."

"Like if someone's being born," Trina said.

"Or if someone's getting married," Dash put in.

"Or if someone's going on a trip," Asha said. "Like you."

"He is good luck for us," Manisha told Carrie, reaching out and touching the medal ion with the tip of her finger. Then she touched the same finger to Carrie's forehead. "He will be good luck for you."

"Even though he's not a T-shirt," Akhtar said.

Carrie was so touched she barely knew what to say. So she told the simple truth.