Vanished (4 page)

He's talking to Lalitha Patti
. Neela's stomach dropped in dismay. She had thought he would wait at least until tomorrow.

“Please don't worry,
Amma
,” Mr. Krishnan said, using the name for mother in Tamil. He repeated this many times. At last he said, “We'll find the veena. I'm sure of it.”

How he could be sure, Neela didn't know. He was just trying to make her grandmother feel better. Maybe she was really upset on the other side. Even crying. Neela felt tears rise in her own throat.

Mr. Krishnan gave a sigh that was so loud, even Neela could hear it through the door. “That's just a story, Amma. It couldn't possibly be true.”

Neela swallowed her tears. What was he talking about? She heard her mother murmur something, but Neela couldn't make it out.

Then, as if he'd heard enough, Mr. Krishnan said, “All right, all right. Let me call you tomorrow. Maybe we'll find the veena by then, and you can forget about all of that.”

All of what? Neela waited for her father to hang up. Maybe he and her mother would say something more afterward.

She was right. When the phone call was over, her mother was the one who started.

“I still can't believe she would send that veena to Neela,” she said.

“She got spooked.”

“Then she should have sold it, that's what.”

“You can't sell a veena like that,” Mr. Krishnan said. “It's too lovely. It's the kind of veena you hand down in the family.”

“She has four other veenas!”

“But this one has the loveliest sound. You've heard my mother play on it. Maybe it's the wood, or the way it was carved. There's something special about that veena.”

“There's something special, all right,” Mrs. Krishnan said. “It's
cursed
.”

Neela stood stock-still. Did she hear right? Did her mother say “cursed”?

“Now you're sounding like my mother,” Mr. Krishnan said.

“Well, the veena did disappear. Isn't that what the curse says?”

Neela's heart started beating. She strained harder to hear them.

“There has to be some other explanation,” Mr. Krishnan said.

“Even so,” Mrs. Krishnan said. “Maybe it's better the veena is gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just think. Do you really want Neela playing on a veena with a history like that?” she asked. “It's…bad luck. Maybe we
shouldn't
look for the veena anymore.”

Neela panicked. What kind of history? Would her parents stop looking for the veena because of this curse? She almost opened the door on them, but then she heard her father.

“Lakshmi, you can't mean that. Think how much Neela loves the instrument, too.”

Her mother was silent. “All right,” she said at last. “We'll search the church tomorrow. After that…I can't promise anything.”

As Neela heard her parents turn off their lights to sleep, she tiptoed quietly back to bed. Her ears were ringing with what she had just heard. The veena had a curse. And
that's
why it was gone. Neela remembered the looks her parents exchanged over dinner, the conversation between them when her father first found out:
She shouldn't have done it
...
She didn't have a choice
.

They weren't talking about her! They were talking about Lalitha Patti, about whether
she
should have sent the veena or not. All of a sudden, everything that had happened in the past twelve hours took on a new meaning. Was it Hal, or was it a mysterious curse that had made her grandmother's veena disappear from the church? Either way, would Neela ever find the veena again? She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. So many things to figure out, so many things to remember. It would be harder than ever to get to sleep.

The next morning
, Neela slept through her alarm and woke up groggy. And late.

Of course, this was nothing new. She was always late. Time was something mysterious and unstoppable in the Krishnan household. It was as if her whole family were in a crazy race, all of them trying to catch up, but always just missing the finish line.

“Remember, I'm picking you up after school so we can go to the church,” Mrs. Krishnan called out from the car window as Neela raced inside the school yard. Neela was running so fast, all she could do was nod.

In class, she slid into her seat exactly three minutes late, her hair still tangled at the ends of her ponytail. Everyone else was already at their desks, except for Matt. He was always late, too, usually later than she was, though sometimes they both pulled up to the curb at the same time in their respective minivans.

Ms. Reese, who kept track of late minutes, raised an eyebrow at Neela. It was her teacher's rule that anyone whose late minutes added up to thirty had to stay after school to make up the “lost” minutes. By Neela's count, she was already up to twenty-five.

As their teacher handed back yesterday's spelling quizzes, Neela thought again about her parents' conversation from last night. She glanced back at Penny, who sat behind her, and wondered if she should tell her friend about it. But Neela wasn't yet sure what
she
thought of the whole thing herself. So she decided to wait.

At first the idea of a curse on her veena seemed thrilling. Was it one of those ancient curses that affected anyone who came in contact with the instrument? Maybe she was cursed now, too. But that's when she began to feel annoyed. Why didn't anyone tell
her
about this curse? Even after the veena was stolen?

Just then, Amanda turned around from the row in front, her auburn hair hanging gracefully down her back. Selfconsciously, Neela ran her fingers through her own hair. She could feel the knots that were still there, and hoped she'd washed out all the toothpaste that got in the ends when she was brushing her teeth this morning.

“Hey, Neela,” Amanda said, “are you bringing your instrument to school again?”

Neela wondered why Amanda cared. “It's too heavy to carry,” she said warily.

“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but couldn't because of Miss Photo Freak”—Amanda glanced at Lynne—“that my mom heard about your veena and wants to borrow it.”

“Borrow it?” Neela didn't understand. Who would want to borrow a veena?

“For her job. They need to do a photo shoot with Indian instruments.” Amanda's mother was a photographer for a magazine in Boston. “They're doing some article about rooms from all around the world.”

So that was it. Keep your mouth shut, Neela told herself. The last thing she wanted was to talk about her missing veena with Amanda.

Ms. Reese came by. “Nice work.” She handed Neela her test, facedown. Neela turned it over to see a perfect score, and flushed with pleasure. She let herself momentarily bask in the glow of a good mark.

“So?” Amanda asked.

Neela turned to her. “I'll have to ask my mom.” Good! Hopefully that would keep Amanda from asking more about the veena.

Amanda handed something to Neela. “That's my mom's business card. You can talk to her yourself at her work.”

Neela looked at the card:
ELIZABETH BONES, SENIOR PHOTOGRAPHER,
BOSTON LIVING
MAGAZINE
. It looked so professional, complete with a Boston address. No one had ever given her a business card before. “I'll have to get back to you,” she said miserably, “because we kind of don't know where the veena is right now.”

“You don't know where your veena is?” Amanda's voice rose an octave. But before she could say anything more, Matt, who just sat down next to Neela, had overheard the whole thing.

“Dude! You
lost
it?” he said.

“But it was so big, Neela!” Penny said.

“Did it break?” someone else asked.

“Did your parents bust you?”

All of a sudden, everyone around her buzzed with questions. At first she was embarrassed, but as she began to answer more questions, she found herself privately enjoying the attention.

As she described what had happened at the church, she left Hal mostly out of the story except as someone who let her inside. She couldn't say why, but something made her keep quiet about him. And she definitely didn't mention what her parents had said about the veena or about her grandmother. “We're going back this afternoon to see if it's still there,” she finished.

“That's awful,” Penny said. “I hope you find it.”

Matt shook his orange hair back. “Filched in a church. That's intense.”

By now, Ms. Reese had noticed the chatter around Neela's desk. “Class, keep it down. Neela, Matt, save your conversation for recess.”

Neela reddened and turned to face the front. Most of the time Matt drew bizarre pictures of space aliens or read thick books that had creepy-sounding names in the title. Also, after bleaching his hair to a wild orange color, he had started wearing old, ratty T-shirts with the names of rock bands she'd never heard of before. So even though they sat next to each other, she rarely talked to him. Certainly they had never been shushed by Ms. Reese. And now everyone in class knew about her lost veena, thanks to her big mouth.

Neela looked up to see Lynne staring at her, as if she was about to say something, but at that moment Ms. Reese told everyone to be quiet, and Lynne looked quickly away.

“By the way, congratulations to Neela and Lynne for their perfect scores,” Ms. Reese said.

“Spelling maestros,” Matt hooted.

“Geeks,” Amanda said. Then, as if she remembered she still needed something from Neela, she smiled at her to show it was a joke. She ignored Lynne.

Neela squirmed. It was one thing to get a good score on her quiz, but another to have Ms. Reese tell the whole class. She glanced at Lynne to see how she felt about it. If Lynne cared, it didn't show on her face.

After homeroom, Neela was about to leave for the class next door when she noticed the business card Amanda had given her was missing.

Penny, who was waiting for her, said, “Aren't you coming?”

“Did you see that card Amanda gave me?” Neela asked.

Penny shook her head. She got on her knees and helped search around the desk. “Are you going to talk to Amanda's mom?” she asked.

Neela shrugged. “Not unless my missing veena suddenly turns up.” Saying that made her feel bad all over again. It sounded so improbable when she heard the words out loud.

“Well, the card isn't here,” Penny said.

“It's so strange.” Neela remembered placing the card on top of her desk next to her folder. The folder was there, but the card was gone.

“Maybe Amanda took the card back?”

“Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised,” Neela said
. Just to mess with me
. But she didn't say that last part out loud, because she knew Penny and Amanda were friends.

The two girls hurried off to their next class. Neela had better things to think about than Mrs. Bones's photo shoot. And being late once today was already enough.

“Sree, stay with Neela and me,”
Mrs. Krishnan said. “Don't run off; the church people won't like it.” She said this to Sree every time they went somewhere, but it didn't make any difference since he always ran off anyway.

Neela watched her mother as they walked up the steps to the church. She was remembering what her mother had said last night, about how she didn't want to look for the veena anymore after they searched the church. For a moment Neela was tempted to say,
Mom, I know about the curse
. But she decided to wait. Now they were here, she wanted to first see what they might find. Besides, she had been eavesdropping, and she knew that was something her mother hated.

“Let me do the talking,” Mrs. Krishnan said to Neela when they got inside.

“But I'm the one who saw Hal,” Neela said. “Unless there's something more
you
know about him or my missing veena.” She couldn't help adding that last part, wondering what her mother would say.

Mrs. Krishnan glanced wearily at Neela. “I didn't mean that. Just, you tend to…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She sighed. “Adults just talk better to each other. You can watch Sree.”

Neela frowned. At least I don't keep secrets, she thought. Maybe that was what her mother meant, that adults were better at keeping things from each other.

When they reached the office, they found two women sitting at L-shaped desks, illuminated by the glow of their table lamps. One had mousy hair, and both sides of her desk were piled high with things: papers, books, several boxes of candy, even a half-opened garbage bag filled with clothes. The other woman was plump, with salt-and-pepper hair and a shirt that was very ironed and very white. On one side of her desk a nameplate read
MARY GOODWIN, CHURCH SEXTON
. Neela looked, but she didn't find a nameplate for the mousy-haired lady. It was probably lost somewhere under the mound of things on her desk.

“Can I help you?” Mary Goodwin asked.

“We seem to have misplaced my daughter's instrument.” Mrs. Krishnan said.

“We think maybe somebody here took it,” Neela added.

Mrs. Krishnan gave Neela a withering look. “She means the church is the last place it was seen,” she said quickly.

She described what had happened yesterday.

Neela bit her lip. Fine, maybe it was better her mother talked. At least it gave her a chance to look around the office. Not that it was the most exciting place, with two vinyl chairs the color of seaweed, and a melamine coffee table that had seen better days. Behind Mary Goodwin's desk, a poster of a big sunflower read “Jesus Loves You!”

“I'm sorry,” Mary said, “but we haven't seen anything like that at all. In fact, I left early yesterday, so I wasn't here.”

“And I can't think of anyone named Hal working at the church,” said the lady behind the pile of clutter.

Mary nodded. “Julia's right.” Her gaze fell from Mrs. Krishnan's face to Sree, who was holding his mother's hand, his hair, as usual, over his face. “Aren't you cute?” she said expressionlessly. Sree didn't say anything. It was as if he could tell she didn't mean it.

“Sree,” Mrs. Krishnan murmured, pushing his hair back. “He's shy,” she said to Mary.

“But there was a man named Hal,” Neela insisted. She couldn't believe it. Someone here had to know who he was. “He was tall, kind of old, well-dressed, and he made me hot cocoa. He used this teakettle with a dragon on it.”

“Oh, the teakettle,” Julia said.

Mary stopped. “Why, yes, we do have that. But no one ever
uses
it—it's an antique.”

“Mary's nuts about that teakettle,” Julia said. “Wasn't it made by a monk?”

A flush crept into Mary's face. “It comes from a turn-of-the-century monastery in England, handmade by a Benedictine monk.” Her voice trailed off. “Excuse me, dear?”

“Neela,” Mrs. Krishnan said.

Neela had spotted something on Mary's desk, on the other side of the computer. She held it up, a piece of embroidery stretched inside a pewter frame. “It's a dragon,” she said.

Mary leaned forward and took the frame from her. “I'm sorry, dear, but this has been in the family for a long time. Delicate, you know.” She opened a drawer and stored it inside. “Now, what was I talking about? Oh, the teakettle.”

“Maybe it was an intruder,” Julia offered.

“Oh, yes,” Mary said, fixing a firm look on Neela. “An intruder.”

Neela was amazed by the way Mary had snatched the frame from her. The embroidery looked fairly new—not at all like a family heirloom—with a stitching of a dragon that was like the one on the teakettle. The dragon seemed to be part of something that looked like a shield from the middle ages, bordered by ornate patterns and a pair of swords crossed at the top.

“An intruder?” Mrs. Krishnan repeated.

Julia made a little clucking sound. “That's awful. And he used your teakettle, too, Mary.”

“Well, it's not my teakettle,” Mary corrected. “But you're right. It is awful.”

“We haven't had an intruder in years,” Julia said.

Sree tugged on his mother's hand, bored. “Just a minute, Sree,” his mother said.

“Hal wasn't an intruder,” Neela said. “He knew where everything was. He acted like he belonged here.”

“Ah, well, he was a
smart
intruder,” Mary said.

Neela was about to say more when she felt her mom's hand press her shoulder, so she kept quiet. She was sure they were wrong about Hal. Besides, Mary was hiding something. What was there in that embroidery she didn't want Neela to see? Was it the dragon?

Mrs. Krishnan handed a piece of paper to Julia. “That's our contact information. Please let us know if you see or hear anything about the veena.”

Julia smiled and took the sheet from her. “Veena,” she repeated, looking at the word on the paper. “I've never even heard of such an instrument before. Have you, Mary?”

If Mary heard Julia, she pretended to ignore her. Instead she began to rearrange the three loose papers on her immaculate desk into a new stack. Meanwhile, Julia dropped the contact sheet on the top of her mountain of papers. Neela wondered if it was the last time anyone would ever see it.

“Would you mind if we have another look around?” she asked glumly. She was beginning to think she had reached a dead end.

Mary rose from her desk to show them to the door. “Of course not, dear,” she said. As she crossed the floor, Neela heard it:
phsst phsst
.

Neela stopped and stared at Mary Goodwin's feet.

“Mary, your shoes squeak something awful,” Julia said. She had noticed Neela staring. “I've been telling her to get them changed. I can hear her a mile away.”

“Oh, well, I've had these for so long,” Mary said, waving her hand as if to shoo Julia.

Neela looked up at Mary. “And you weren't here yesterday, were you?” she asked.

Mary paused. “That's what I said, dear. You ought to pay attention so that others don't have to repeat themselves to you.” She pointed out the door. “The kitchen is that way. Best of luck finding what you're looking for.” She said the last sentence with a sense of finality. Everyone could tell she was really saying good-bye.

“She was so unhelpful,” Mrs. Krishnan said, after they were in the hall.

Neela glanced behind her. “Be careful what you say,” she said in a low voice. “This place echoes like a cave.”

Just then, without any warning, Sree ran down the hall into to the vestibule.

“Sree, come back!” Mrs. Krishnan called out. “Now what?” she said to Neela, exasperated.

They had stopped in front of the kitchen. “I'll be in here looking,” Neela said.

Mrs. Krishnan nodded. “All right, I'll get Sree. Don't go anywhere else. I don't want to search for you afterward.” She disappeared into the vestibule.

As Neela entered the kitchen, she thought again of Mary. So that funny sound yesterday was Mary Goodwin's shoes. Which meant Mary had been standing outside the kitchen door. Had she looked in? Had she seen Hal? What if Mary was the one who had taken her veena? Maybe she had peeked in the kitchen, saw Neela having cocoa, and then took the veena from the closet and ran off with it.

Neela sighed. But that explanation sounded so…ridiculous. How on earth could Mary have planned that, when Neela's coming to the church was purely an accident? It made no sense. At any rate, Mary had lied when she said she wasn't in the church yesterday afternoon. And she had snatched away the embroidery because there was something in it she didn't want Neela to see.

Was Mary's behavior a clue? Neela wasn't sure. But as she looked around the kitchen, she began to feel another wave of despair. Not only had the office failed to provide any real information about Hal or her veena, but the kitchen was swept clean, the counters spotless. What could she possibly find there?

The only thing in sight was the dragon teakettle, which was up on the shelf. She walked over to the other side of the kitchen and carefully lifted it down. The weight of the kettle made her swing it momentarily before setting it on the table. It was heavier than she imagined. She looked again at the kettle, at its webbed wings and the handle, which she now saw was a tail with a point at the end. This time she also noticed that the dragon had only two legs with claws at the ends of its feet, and that its face looked like a bird's.

Come to think of it, didn't the dragon on her own veena look the same way, with the same bird face and wings? Or maybe all dragons looked like that. She had no idea. She tried to think back to Mary's embroidery. It seemed as though that dragon had looked like a bird, too.

Down the hall she heard her mother's voice, then footsteps coming closer. Neela picked up the kettle quickly to return it to the shelf, and in her haste, banged it against the side of the counter. The next thing she heard was the sound of metal hitting the kitchen floor. She looked down. The dragon head had broken off! Horrified, she picked it up, knowing any minute she was about to get caught. Then it was too late because the footsteps had arrived at the doorway, and she glanced up miserably, expecting to see her mother.

But it was not Mrs. Krishnan. To her surprise, standing in the doorway was Lynne, from school.

“It was an accident,” Neela sputtered. She felt as if she had been caught with her pants down.

Then something strange happened. “Slide it back on top of the teakettle,” Lynne said. When Neela could only stare at her, Lynne walked over and took the kettle and dragon head from her. She inserted the head along a tiny groove until the girls both heard something click into place. “It's supposed to come off,” she explained. “You just loosened it.” She reached up and set the kettle back on its shelf.

Neela was still staring agape at Lynne. Before she could speak, they heard Mrs. Krishnan's voice, this time closer, until she appeared in the kitchen. “So, did you find anything?” she asked Neela, Sree in tow.

“No, nothing here.” Neela flashed an uncertain look at Lynne.

“There wasn't a rabbit,” Sree announced, as if that had been weighing on everyone's thoughts.

Mrs. Krishnan glanced at Lynne curiously. “Are you a friend of Neela's?”

Lynne pushed up her glasses and nodded. “We're in school together. I'm Lynne.”

“Is this your church?” Mrs. Krishnan asked.

Lynne shook her head. “I'm just taking an after-school class here.”

“Me too,” Neela piped up. “Except mine meets on Tuesdays.”

“Mine meets today. Photography.”

“Watercolors.”

After that, there wasn't much left to say. Neela stared at Lynne's face, which was half covered by her mass of dark curls. She was still trying to figure out why Lynne had come to the kitchen in the first place. “Well,” Mrs. Krishnan said at last. “Nice to meet you.”

As they left the kitchen, Neela couldn't help glancing back at the teakettle on the shelf. There was something important about it. Maybe something Mary didn't want her to know. And now Lynne was connected to the teakettle, too.