Goddess of Gotham (13 page)

‘I said beat it,’ growled the money man. The RHM took the hint and retreated through the door, fast.

On up the street he went, asking here, there and everywhere, sticking his head through the dodgiest of doors, stopping people in the street. Two hours later, he had made absolutely no progress.
University Avenue seemed a very long road and there were so many streets crossing it. The RHM was working along it methodically, but he was beginning to run out of steam. Stopping for a brief rest,
he leaned against a low wall and sighed deeply. A head popped up from behind the wall.

‘Whatsamatter wichoo?’

Startled, the RHM jumped away from the wall. He could see a man’s face poking over it, a face with a cheery grin, crowned with a red woollen hat.

‘You don’t look so happy,’ said the man.

‘I’m not,’ said the RHM. ‘I’ve walked up and down here for hours and I still can’t find her. Kumari.’

‘Kumari?’ The man wrinkled his nose. ‘Can’t say as I know no
Koo
-mari.’

‘Small girl. About this tall. With a bird. Yes, I know, no one’s seen her.’

‘You say she has a bird?’

The man hopped over the wall and sat by the RHM. He pulled his hat off his head and scratched it. The RHM noticed he was almost entirely bald.

‘Y’know, I
have
seen a girl like that. Over at Ma Hernandez’ place. Hoodoo Hair. It’s a beauty shop. Couple of blocks from here.’

‘That must be it!’ The RHM leaped up, tiredness forgotten. ‘Which way did you say, kind sir?’

‘Two blocks north. You can’t miss it. Place is all orange. That Ma, she’s quite a gal. Y’know, I thought there was something about that kid. Saw her picture in the paper.
Funny, you ain’t the first to be tryin’ to find her. There was a woman the other day, askin’ questions same as you.’

‘A woman?’

‘Yeah. Big lady but kinda squat. Funny accent, like yours.’

‘I see. Thank you,’ said the RHM. Alarm bells were ringing.

Hurrying off in the direction the man had indicated, he prayed he was not too late. Sure enough, two blocks later he saw it, a small shop front above which the words
Hoodoo Hair
were
emblazoned in silver paint. A snake curled through the letters, which were shaped like chicken feathers. Truly, a remarkable place.

The buzz of conversation stopped when the RHM walked through the door. He smiled and offered his little bow.

‘Good morning, ladies.’

A woman dressed splendidly in purple came bustling up.

‘Can I help you?’ she enquired. The RHM studied her handsome features.

‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘I’m looking for a young girl. She’s about this tall, has long, black hair. Her name is Kumari.’

Was it the RHM’s imagination or did the silence in the salon deepen? The woman before him, however, did not hesitate.

‘Sorry, honey. Never seen her.’

‘B-but . . . ’ began the RHM, then stopped, ever the diplomat. He looked at a woman under the drier.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve come across a girl like that, madam?’

The woman fluttered her lashes and exposed a gummy grin. The RHM smiled into her heavily made-up eyes.

‘No, you ain’t seen no girl like that, Lola,’ the woman in purple interjected. ‘Like I said, sweetie, none of us have seen her. Have we girls?’

A chorus of ‘no’s from the women scattered around the salon, some in rollers, others with bits of silver paper in their hair. The RHM thought the whole thing most bizarre. Especially
the woman in purple. She was offering him a bowl now, full of brightly wrapped sweetmeats.

‘Here honey, take one with you.’

Then she was holding the door open, smoothly ushering him through it. Almost before the RHM knew where he was, he found himself standing on the sidewalk. Through the plate glass window he could
see the women, as one, staring back at him. The woman in purple raised a hand and waved. He noticed she had long, silver-painted nails. Each finger was adorned with a remarkable ring.

They were lying. The RHM could feel it. In his dealings he had learned to be on constant alert and he could smell dishonesty in others. After all, it took one to know one and the RHM was no
fool. He could not afford to be; the stakes were too high. So the trail ended here, against the brick wall of their silence. The RHM would simply have to find another way. He was a resourceful
man.

He waved back through the window at the purple woman and set off in the direction of the subway. His mind was racing, calculating. There had been a woman trying to hunt down Kumari. He could
only hope she had been fobbed off as well. For in his heart of hearts, he knew it was the Ayah. It meant she was definitely here, in New York.

And she had a head start.

CHAPTER 11

K
umari slapped her school bag against her legs as she walked. It made a good sound, sort of rhythmic. Thursdays she walked home alone. LeeLee and
CeeCee had chess club. It felt good to be on her own; it gave her time to think without interruption. One thing she had noticed about the World Beyond was that there was far too much going on.

What with TV and school and Ma’s constant chatter, she never had much time to think, let alone feel sorry for herself. Actually, feeling sorry for herself was something she rarely did. It was
better to take action. Find some kind of way out of whatever mess she was in, although this time she was stumped. It appeared there was no way back from the World Beyond and no means to summon
Mamma. And all the while, the sands of Time were running fast. It was enough to depress even the most resilient goddess.

On the plus side, things at school were looking up. Two of the girls had asked her to sit with them at lunch break. Charley and Hannah were their names. They seemed pretty nice. Badmash liked
them too. Well, he would do – they fed him doughnuts. And at least Hannah and Charley talked to her as if she was normal, unlike the others who acted as if she were some kind of
fruitcake.

‘Hey, pigeon-girl!’ the gang would call.

‘He’s a vulture,’ Kumari would answer.

The gang seemed pretty stupid, all in all. Maybe that was why they picked on her.

Turning the corner, Kumari decided to cut down the alleyway. CeeCee and LeeLee had taken her that way once or twice – it shaved a few minutes off the walk. Trouble was, there was more than
one alleyway and what she thought was the right one turned out not to be. Halfway down, Kumari could see a row of trash cans blocking the end.
Ay caramba!
She’d have to retrace her
steps.

‘Well, if it isn’t pigeon-girl.’

Oh no, Eddie’s gang. They must have followed her from school. Five or six of them, blocking her route. This time there was no escape. She would simply have to fight her way out. Except
that fighting was a last resort, or so the Ancient Abbot had instructed. Besides, there were lots of them. The odds were not good.

‘Come on, pigeon-girl, hand over the bird. I’m thinking it’d make a nice sandwich.’

Eddie mimed eating Badmash. The rest fell about laughing. Kumari noticed he had a rash of pustules on his cheeks.

‘No way, zit boy,’ she countered.

Big mistake. Huge mistake. Suddenly, the gang wasn’t laughing. Eddie thrust his chin inches from hers.

‘What did you call me?’ he demanded.

Kumari stared into his mean eyes. He took a step towards her, then another. The gang was closing in, her way was blocked. This called for drastic action. Whipping round to face the end of the
alleyway, Kumari started chanting, frantically running through the Powers in her mind, settling on No 7. Power No 7 – the Power to Move Through Solid Walls.

‘OM BEMA TARE SENDARA

LOKA WASHUM KURU SOHA . . .’

Focus, Kumari, focus.
She could only hope this was working.
Think goddess big time,
she told herself, as she charged for the trash cans.

There was a
whoosh
and a
splat
as she put the brakes on just in time. The trash was rising up from the cans, whizzing round and round like a whirlwind. Over Kumari’s head it
soared, twirling and spinning towards the hapless gang, a spiral of orange peel, empty tins and unidentifiable gloop. Gaping at it, open-mouthed, Kumari forgot all about her chant. For endless
seconds the trash hovered over the gang before cascading down, covering them from head to toe in filth.

Eddie spat dried dog food from his mouth. Rotten eggs dripped from his earlobes. The others were in a similar state. Badmash started cackling at the sight.

‘Shut your bird up!’ Eddie snarled. ‘Or I’ll . . . ’

‘Or you’ll what?’ said Kumari.

‘Yeah, you’ll what?’ echoed a familiar voice. She looked up and saw Chico.

‘What you going to do about it?’ repeated Chico, sauntering forward until he stood between Eddie and Kumari. Behind him was a whole bunch of kids from school, most of whom were
laughing.

‘Looks to me, Eddie, like you need a bath,’ continued Chico.

Eddie said nothing. Kumari noticed he was looking at Chico with something approaching respect.

‘So what was with that tornado thing?’ piped up one of Eddie’s sidekicks.

‘Yeah, that was
weird,’
said another.

‘She
did it!’ said a third.
‘Her.
She was, like, singing or something.’

All eyes turned to Kumari. She took a deep breath. She could see the questions in Chico’s eyes, the doubts written across other faces. Ever so casually, she shrugged.

‘Search me,’ she said. ‘Must have been some freak weather thing. Kind of like the stuff we did in class the other day. You know, global warming.’

She caught sight of one or two of her classmates nodding in agreement. Looked like she had got away with it. At least for now. She wasn’t so sure about Chico, though. His expression was
unreadable. Right now, he was looking with narrowed eyes at Eddie.

‘Go on, scram,’ said Chico. ‘This is the second time I

caught you bothering Kumari. You don’t get a third chance, Eddie. Bother her, it bothers me.’

Without another word, Eddie walked, his cohorts trailing behind him. The other kids parted to let them pass, giggling and holding their noses at the stink.

‘Are you OK?’ Chico asked.

‘I’m fine,’ mumbled Kumari. ‘Really, I’ll just be getting along now.’

‘I’ll walk you home,’ said Chico. ‘Make sure you get there OK’

‘Uh, OK,’ said Kumari. Great. Another chance to humiliate herself. The bathroom incident still burned. It made her feel hot just thinking about it.

All the way home, Chico said nothing. It was beginning to make Kumari nervous. She wished he’d just spit it out. There was obviously something on his mind. She could tell by the way his
lips pressed together. The RHM did that all the time, as did her Papa. She was dying to ask him what it was but there was something that stopped her, this weird shyness that fell on her when Chico
was around, like she was all too aware she might be a
klutz.

Klutz.
Now that was a good word. Mrs Brinkman said it quite a lot. Along with
schmuck, schlep
and
kvetch.
The World Beyond certainly had a rich and colourful language. Tum
tee tum. Twiddly dee. Keep talking, Kumari, in your head. Anything to fill that awful silence.
Is he ever going to speak?

‘This is it,’ said Kumari, stopping in front of Ma’s apartment building. ‘Well . . . erm . . . see you at school tomorrow, I guess.’

Hope you get a tongue transplant in the meantime.

‘Hey, wait a minute,’ said Chico.

Oh, good. Surgery won’t be necessary.

‘I . . . I wanted to tell you something.’

This could be interesting.

‘Those guys, you don’t want to be afraid of them. If they know you’re afraid, they’ll just come after you more. You see, I used to be like them. You know, in a gang. Soon
realised it’s just for cowards. It was my grandpa told me that. I live with them. My grandparents. My mom, she’s . . . not well.’

‘Oh, OK,’ said Kumari. Silence.
Now what do I say?

‘My dad, he’s sick, too,’ she offered.

‘Uh, right. That’s too bad.’

‘That’s how he lost his Powers which is why he can’t help me. And it means he can’t keep National Happiness at Maximum or do anything about Mamma’s death.’ Oh
no, she was burbling
. Stop it, Kumari. Too late.
He was looking at her like she’d lost her mind, as indeed he might.

‘Your Mamma’s dead?’

‘Kind of. Long story. She’s sort of stuck, you see.’ He obviously didn’t.

Chico took a step back and shook his head. ‘You are one strange girl.’

‘Gee, thanks,’ said Kumari but he was already walking away. She watched him go, her heart heavy. This was not how it was supposed to be. What she wanted more than anything was to fit
in, to be normal just like the other kids. It was what she had always wanted, even back home.

Being a goddess was not all it was cracked up to be. All those hours spent on her own or with the Ancient Abbot, trying to master the Eight Powers. All those lessons with the RHM, attempting to
learn the higher arts. And when it came down to it, none of that knowledge was any use. Certainly not here in the World Beyond, where, if anything her results were worse than ever. Take today, for
instance.
Total wipeout.
A magic mess. OK, so she had talked her way out of it
this
time. But what about next time and the next? It was tough being different. The other kids, they
noticed. Chico certainly knew something was up. He’d called her
strange,
for heaven’s sake.

And, actually, he had a point. She
was
strange compared to him. Chico fitted in the World Beyond. So did Charley and Hannah. This was their home. This was where they belonged. Kumari
wanted to belong too, at least for the moment. Of course, she would not always be here. She’d figure something out, very soon. She didn’t want to think about the alternative: that she
might be stuck here forever. Or, worse, until her Time ran out. Quite literally. The End.

Then again, there was another option. She could choose to become 100% mortal. Ridiculous idea! She shoved it immediately from her mind. The thought stayed with her, though, all the way up the
stairs to Ma’s apartment. It dogged her footsteps as she cursed the broken elevator and stalked her to Ma’s door.