“We raise everyone up. So everyone can dream.”
“God, spare me! This is ridiculous.”
“You can’t get lost in that world.”
“Our dreams let people die.” She turned away from him. “Tomorrow we move on.”
* * *
—
At that moment a commotion rose outside, back toward the construction site. Powerful lights were turned on with an industrial clank, as if it were a movie set or a police raid. They heard the engines of cars, voices.
Neda turned to Sunny in alarm, but his face was more startled than hers.
“Fuck.”
The side gate burst open.
Ajay, panicking, reported, “Your father’s here!” then quickly disappeared again.
“Fuck,” Sunny said. He was seized by fear, he looked to Neda. “You can’t be here.”
“Why?”
“Get out, now!”
His fear was contagious. “Where the fuck am I supposed to go? I’m naked.”
She swam to the side.
“Sir,” Ajay cried, returning. “They’re coming here.”
Sunny pointed to her kaftan. “Her clothes. Help her.”
Ajay hurried to pick up her kaftan, ran back around with it, hauled her out of the water with his head turned the other way, and wrapped it round her body. Sunny pointed to a small changing room set back into the wall of the villa. “Go.”
Ajay ran with her, dragged her past the bar to the changing room. She grabbed the bottle of vodka on the way. He pushed her inside.
* * *
—
The room had the ripe smell of disuse, the headiness of old chlorine and drains backed up with mulch. She caught her breath, unscrewed the vodka, and took a long drink. Then she began to shiver. There were small gaps in the walls where the wood had warped. She knelt down and peered through—there was room enough to see the rear of the villa, a part of the pool.
Sunny was dazed in the middle of the pool. Frozen.
What the fuck is happening?
Ajay emerged with a bucket of water, threw it over the stones leading to the changing room, to cover her bloody tracks.
This is crazy.
Then she heard voices.
Sunny heard them too, his body stiffened, a deer in the headlights. Ajay returned to the glass doors of the villa’s rear and stood to attention. Footsteps. Many footsteps. Many voices. Across the pool, entering from that rear gate, she could make out three men. At the head, Bunty Wadia. She recognized him instantly though she’d never seen a clear photo in her life. At first glance he was benign, avuncular even, but he carried a cold authority that induced terror. There, alongside him, walked the famous figure of UP chief minister Ram Singh, and behind, patiently, deferentially, Dinesh.
Bunty and Ram were talking. Bunty glanced once at the pool and kept going, leading everyone inside past the upright Ajay as if Sunny weren’t even there.
Sunny remained transfixed as the three men entered the villa.
Silence.
She wondered if she could make a run for it.
She couldn’t take her eyes away.
In the empty space, Bunty reemerged.
Came to the edge of the pool and stared down.
She realized she was holding her breath.
All she could do was watch.
Bunty and Sunny below, facing off without words, without movement.
It was Sunny who made the first move.
He waded slowly through the water.
He came to the edge.
He said something Neda couldn’t hear.
Sunny placed both hands on the side to haul himself out.
It all happened so fast.
As Sunny was halfway out, Bunty raised his foot. He met Sunny’s chest with the sole of his black shoe. Pushed Sunny back into the pool.
Then he turned and he was gone.
* * *
—
She wanted to run to Sunny.
Instead she turned away into the blackness and drank from the vodka and closed her eyes.
* * *
—
How long had she been sitting there on the damp floor? Minutes or an hour? She was shivering, her teeth chattering, though the night was warm. However much vodka she drank, she couldn’t get drunk. There was no sound from the pool. No sound from outside. When she allowed herself to check she saw nothing but the placid surface, the warm lights of the villa. Where had Sunny gone? Inside? Had he fled?
She was trapped in these thoughts when she heard a knock on the door.
“Madam,” a voice whispered. It was Ajay.
She bit her lip and put her hand to the lock slowly.
“Madam, put your clothes on, please come.”
She cracked the door open.
“Madam,” he said, “You have to hurry.”