Vanished (24 page)

Govindar now turned to look at everyone. “Neela, Mr. Wyvern, the rest of you, I suggest you go home and decide what is to be done with the instrument. It seems like Mohan and I have many things to work out. First, we must make a trip to the police station.”

Mohan was stunned. “The police station? Why?”

“To show our customers that we are making honest people of ourselves,” Govindar declared.

“Don't hand the veena over to them,” Mohan pleaded. “I panicked. I shouldn't have run. Let's get it appraised, find out its real worth. And there's more.”

“What more can there be?” Govindar asked, sounding tired. “Come, let's go.” He signaled to the police officers to help him.

“You have no idea what you're giving away.” Mohan's voice could be heard as the police officers led him away with Govindar following. “We'll see who has the last laugh.…”

“Well,
that
was weird,” Pavi said.

“Did you really jump the train?” Mrs. Krishnan asked Neela.

“She totally did,” Pavi said. “You should've seen it. She was cool.”

“I was so scared,” Lynne said. “You must really care for the veena to risk your life.”

“Yeah,” Neela said uncertainly. She hadn't planned to risk anything—it just happened. Before she knew it, she was dangling for her life until the ticket collector rescued her. Hearing Lynne now made Neela feel strange.

Mrs. Krishnan shuddered. “Do you know how many people are killed doing that?”

“On that note,” Mr. Krishnan said, “let's go home.”

“But what about the veena?” Pavi asked. “We have to decide who gets to keep it.”

Mr. Krishnan stopped. “Oh.” He looked uncertainly at Neela, Hal, and Lynne.

“But Prasant, he
stole
the veena from Neela,” Mrs. Krishnan said in a low voice.

“Lakshmi,” Mr. Krishnan said.

“It's okay,” Hal said wearily. “I
did
steal it. All I can say is that I'm sorry. If you could only see in my heart how deeply sorry I am.”

Why was Hal being nice now? Neela felt a queasiness in her stomach. At that moment, though, Hal's eyes were fixed on the veena case. He grasped Lynne's hand and said, “Strange that the veena made it back to Chennai. Wonder what your mom would have to say about that.”

“She'd say that the veena isn't ours anymore,” Lynne said softly.

In the din of the bustling train station, a silence fell on the party of people gathered around the instrument case. No one knew what to say, but they were all stirred by the same feeling of regret. Some moments later, Neela stepped forward; the effort was almost unbearable. But the decision was so clear she didn't stop to confirm it with her grandmother or parents. She wheeled the instrument case to Lynne and put the handle in her hand.

“Here,” Neela said. “It belonged to you first.”

“What?” Lynne stared at her.

“Oh, Neela, are you sure?” Mrs. Krishnan whispered. She looked ready to cry.

“I can buy another veena,” Neela said, carefully and meaningfully.

Her grandmother nodded in silent approval.

“Unbelievable,” Hal said, stunned. “I don't know what to say. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lynne said quietly. “But are you really sure?”

Neela thought if someone asked her one more time, she would bolt down the terminal, clutching the instrument case in her hands. How could anyone be sure of anything? But the stomachache had subsided, and her palms didn't tingle anymore. So she said, “Yes, I'm sure. But you better hurry off or I might change my mind.”

A few minutes later, Lynne, Hal, and the veena were gone.

Mr. Krishnan gathered Neela in his arms. “That was tremendous. After so many people trying to steal that instrument, you're the first one to give it up.”

“You did the right thing when I couldn't,” Lalitha Patti said.

Mrs. Krishnan nodded. “So courageous, Neela.”

Neela didn't want to talk about it. “Let's go home.”

As they walked back to their car, Pavi pulled Neela back. “What you did was totally cool. And I know how hard it was to give that veena up, after everything that's happened.”

Neela flushed under Pavi's praise. It was different to hear it from her.

Pavi went on. “Listen, I've been kind of a twerp about Matt. I know he helped you a lot, and you wouldn't have figured things out without him.”

“You helped, too, Pavi.”

“I just didn't want things to change because of him. Because, you know, we barely get to see each other during the school year.” Pavi's voice was gruff, but Neela knew it was because her friend always had a hard time sharing her feelings.

“But things won't change,” Neela said. “And Matt's nice. You'd like him.”

“You think so?”

“Sure. And anyway, we'll always have time to do stuff on the weekends and on the way to veena lessons.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pavi said. “I'm quitting when we get back.”

“What?” Neela was stunned. “I thought you loved the veena.”

Pavi shook her head. “Dude, love is kind of a strong word. Next fall my coach thinks I might be able to make the swim team. So my afternoons are shot—I'll be at the pool every day.”

“Wow.” Neela took a moment to let it sink in. “What about Sudha Auntie? She'll probably warn you that swimming leads to indigestion!”

Pavi laughed. “Yeah, I guess I'll risk it.”

They continued walking. Neela felt sad thinking about Pavi no longer being there at the lessons. There would be no more trips together to Sudha Auntie's house. And no one to snicker with behind their teacher's back. But Pavi really liked swimming. And she had to do what was right for her, even if it meant giving up something else.

They reached the end of the platform, when a police officer stopped in front of them. “Pavitra!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I was involved with that veena escapade,” she said. “That's why you're here, right?”

The police officer nodded, still looking surprised.

“They went that way.” Pavi pointed in the direction Govindar and Mohan had left with the other officers. “But they left a long time back.”

“Then I should hurry. Take care.” The police officer dashed off.

“Who was that?” Neela asked.

“That's my uncle, the assistant police commissioner.” Pavi saw Neela staring at her. “What, you thought I made that up?”

That evening
, Neela and her family sat on the rooftop, where several containers of jasmine were in bloom, filling the air with a soft, fruity fragrance. Neela and Sree drank Ovaltine, while the adults drank weak tea, and everyone talked about the events of the day. By then, Neela had also filled them in on the other details that had unfolded in Arlington.

“So, do you still think you did the right thing?” her grandmother asked. “Are you angry at that girl for taking your veena?”

“Lynne didn't take my veena, I gave it to her,” Neela said. “And…I sort of had to do it. It wasn't just because she needed the veena. It was because…I didn't want to be like Mohan. He did so many wrong things because he wasn't happy with what he had. But I did wrong things, too. All because of an instrument.”

“You're being hard on yourself,” Lalitha Patti said. “I would not put you in the same category as Mohan.”

“But maybe I would turn into someone like him,” Neela said. “There's something about that veena. Everyone who's had it or been near it starts to do dishonest things.”

“That's true,” Mr. Krishnan said. “From Hal to Lynne to Mohan.”

“And Guru,” Neela said. “Don't forget him. He's the one who sold it in the first place without telling his wife.”

“Yes,” her father said. “And you. And my mother. Let's not forget the two of you.”

“And us,” Neela said. She looked at her grandmother, who at that moment turned away, as if she sensed the question that had formed in Neela's mind.

Instead, Lalitha Patti set down her cup and said, “Why don't we throw in the customs people at the airport while we're at it. Shame on them for not flagging a haunted instrument!”

“And Sree!” Neela said.

“And me!” he said, not knowing what he was including himself in.

Neela glanced at her mother, who had been quiet throughout. She saw her get up and walk around the rooftop, stopping from container to container to look at the flowers in bloom. Neela went to join her.

In her hand, Mrs. Krishnan held a few stray jasmine flowers, which she gave to Neela. “The scent of jasmine always reminds me of being a little girl,” she said. “I would wear flowers in my hair every day in the evenings.”

Neela held the sweet flowers up to her face and breathed in deeply. Above her, stars were appearing one by one in the darkening sky. Mrs. Krishnan began weaving the jasmine into her daughter's hair.

“I was thinking over the past couple of months,” she said, “how we seemed to be misunderstanding each other.”

“You should have told me the story about the veena,” Neela said. “Not because it would have made a difference, but because it was important for me to know.”

“I see that now. It's just that I could tell you were keeping things from me, and you just felt so…distant.”

“I didn't know how to tell you what was happening,” Neela said, “without you freaking out about it.”

Mrs. Krishnan smiled. “Okay, I'll try not to ‘freak out' so much from now on.”

As Mrs. Krishnan continued adding more flowers to her hair, Neela wondered what Lynne and her grandfather were doing, if they were at home, looking at the veena that was now theirs. No more sneaking around, no more guilt. Just memories and photographs and the touch of sleek jackwood.

Neela's heart ached. She would miss that veena. It would be like a best friend that moved away and never came back. But she would get over it.

“One thing I wanted to ask,” Mrs. Krishnan said. “Where did you ever learn to slide open a lock?”

“My friend taught me,” Neela said cautiously. “We were talking about it at school one day.” She still didn't mention Matt by name.

“Who? Penny?”

Neela took a breath. She didn't want to be dishonest anymore. “No, Matt,” she said.

Mrs. Krishnan was silent for a moment, then continued with the flowers. “Is this that boy who sits next to you? The one who's always late?”

“Yeah, but—” Neela was about to get annoyed that this was the only way her mother could characterize him, but Mrs. Krishnan went on.

“Yes, Ms. Reese was telling me about him at the store that day when I ran into her,” she said. “She said he was a good friend for you. And a bright kid.”

Neela turned around. “She said that?” She searched her mother's face to see what her mother thought about the whole thing. “And you're okay with it?”

Mrs. Krishnan shrugged. “As long as he's a nice friend, sure.”

Neela turned back to keep the surprise from showing on her face. Sometimes she had no idea what her mother would say or do.

Her mother glanced back at the group seated on the bamboo chairs.

“Well, Sree has certainly learned a lot from you,” she said. “Maybe in a few years, he can play the veena, too, if he wants.” She finished with the flowers and gave Neela's hair a final pat.

“Yeah,” Neela said. “Sudha Auntie can have someone new to terrorize.”

“Ha,” her mother said.

As the days continued, a pall hung over the rest of the vacation for Neela. At night, she found herself dreaming of being back at the Chennai Train Station. Except in her dreams, the station was always empty of people, and she was standing alone with the
maya veena
, as if guarding it from something unknown. She wasn't sure why she dreamed about the veena now when she knew it was gone. Maybe searching for it had filled her life with more excitement than she'd ever known, and now her dreams were filling in the adventure that was missing from her waking life. Or maybe she just missed having such a special instrument. Whatever it was, she woke up each morning and moped around her grandparents' house, feeling strangely sorry for herself.

Lalitha Patti, who had been watching her, said one day, “Come with me, I'm going to the music store.”

“What do you mean?” Neela asked from the couch, where she was lying down and reading a book she had already read before.

“Govindar found my veena, the one that got stolen by mistake, stored away under some sheets at the store. He's repaired it and polished it and says it's ready to be picked up.”

“How can you think of going there after what he did?” Mrs. Krishnan said. She was sitting across from Neela, playing checkers with Sree on the floor.

“I do have to get my veena back,” Lalitha Patti said. “And I think Govindar feels very bad about everything. Besides, he isn't the one who stole the veena. It was his son.” She turned to Neela. “What do you say? Also, Govindar has something for you.”

“What could he possibly have for her?” Mrs. Krishnan wondered.

“Well, she won't know unless she comes, right?” Lalitha Patti said.

Neela wasn't sure she wanted to see Govindar or his store again, but her grandmother had made her curious. She got up from the couch. “I'll go, but if Mohan's there, I'm leaving,” she said.

“I'm sure he's saying the same thing about you,” Lalitha Patti said.

At the store, Govindar saw them immediately and waved. His face looked weary, as if he had been through a lot in the last week. Neela noticed that Mohan wasn't around, and the framed newspaper article had been removed from the wall.

“Lalitha, Neela, good to see you,” Govindar said. “I wish we could have parted on better circumstances last time.”

“Mistakes happen,” Lalitha Patti said graciously.

They sure do, Neela thought. Like having a crook for a son. Not to mention being a liar yourself. But she smiled and said nothing.

“Please follow me,” Govindar went on. “We can talk in the back.” He signaled to his assistant to step up to the counter.

“Um, are we going to the back room?” Neela asked.

“Yes, is that a problem?” Govindar asked. Then he saw Neela's face.

“It's fine,” she said. “Just don't close the door. It still gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

If Govindar was familiar with the heebie-jeebies, he didn't say. But inside the back room, he did leave the door wide open. “First item of business,” he said. He directed Lalitha Patti to a worktable with two veenas on it, each covered by a heavy cloth. He lifted the cloth over one of them to reveal a shiny, freshly varnished veena that Neela recognized as her grandmother's. “I think you will see everything is in place,” he said, “including the jewel work on the peg box.”

Neela's grandmother bent over the instrument and studied it carefully. “Good work, Govindar,” she said.

As they continued looking over the veena, Neela's eyes wandered around the room. It was hard to believe that just a week ago, she, Pavi, and Lynne had been stuck here with no way of escaping until a box of Cracker Jack saved the day.

Govindar noticed Neela looking around her. “Undoubtedly your mind is filled with the heebie-jeebies of last week,” he said.

“Um,” she said, trying not to giggle at the way this sounded.

“I am deeply sorry and ashamed by my son's actions,” he went on. “For as long as I can remember, Mohan was obsessed with that veena. After we sold it away so many years ago, I was sure he had forgotten about it. But clearly he hadn't. And he knew a lot more about the veena than I did.”

“So the girl and her grandfather, are they now insanely rich?” Lalitha Patti asked. She spoke casually, but Neela knew her grandmother well enough to hear in her voice a twinge of envy. It was hard not to feel it herself. After all, it wasn't every day you gave up a rare and valuable instrument because it was the right thing to do. The wrong thing to do, it seemed, would have been so much easier. Neela sighed unconsciously, waiting for Govindar to confirm what Lalitha Patti had asked.

Instead he shrugged. “Veenas weren't meant to withstand the test of time. Think of the heat and humidity. In Guru's case, his veena
did
last for so long, and we don't really know why. Still, an instrument is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it.”

“Wait a minute. The original Guru original is rare and priceless, but no one wants to buy it?” Neela crossed her arms.

“Well, I didn't say no one,” Govindar said with a note of sadness in his voice. Neela realized then that he was thinking about his son. “There are people, just not a lot of them.”

There was a silence, and then Lalitha Patti spoke. “Govindar, when you're ready, could we talk about the other matter?”

Someone cleared his throat. Govindar's assistant was at the door, motioning to him.

“I will be right back,” Govindar said. “But yes. We will get to the other matter shortly.”

Neela and Lalitha Patti stood next to each other at the table while they waited for Govindar to return.

“Did you want to be insanely rich?” Neela asked.

“It isn't important,” her grandmother said. “But one can't help being curious.”

Neela nodded. She ran her finger along the sides of the worktable where the other covered instrument rested. Then at last, because she couldn't help it, she lifted the cloth. It was another full-size veena, this one made in a honey-colored jackwood. The varnish looked like it had been recently applied. The frets and strings gleamed. And the peg box…Neela looked at it again. It wasn't a dragon, but a fish painted in blue. She had never seen a fish on a veena before. Instinctively, she looked for a set of initials on the neck and was disappointed to see none. That would have been impossible, she thought. Guru was no more.