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Authors: Hari Kunzru

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BOOK: Gods Without Men
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“Jaz! I’m sorry, Karl, could you hold the line a moment? What the hell, Jaz?”

“Go to work. I’ll look after him.”

The meeting was important, and Karl seemed mystified—not annoyed exactly, but certainly not as understanding as she’d hoped. As she slid her papers into a bag, she reasoned to herself that Jaz had been with Raj several days a week for months, without any problems. It would probably
be fine. As she left for work, the two of them stood on the stoop and waved her off.

It’d be fine.

At lunchtime she phoned Jaz’s cell. “Where are you?” she asked, straining to hear in case there was traffic noise in the background. She’d asked Jaz not to go out with him. Just stay home, she’d said. I’ll be back early anyway.

His voice was breezy. “Oh, we’re at home.”

“Everything OK?”

“Peachy.”

Something about his tone didn’t sound right. After she rang off, she sat at her desk for a few minutes, the wrong feeling working its way down into her chest, her gut. Without a word to Karl or Teri, who were looking at some cover designs, she grabbed her bag and went out onto First Avenue to look for a taxi.

She got back home just in time. Jaz and Raj were already outside. Raj was wearing his little yellow rain poncho. The trunk of the car was open. Jaz was stowing a bag inside. She shoved some bills through the taxi driver’s window and ran to the front of the car, placing herself between Raj and Jaz.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I have to do this, Lisa. Don’t stop me.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“Where do you think? We have to go back there. Unless we find out what happened, we’ll never be able to move on.”

“You were just going to abduct him? Drive off, without telling me?”

“You think I’m insane. There’s no way I could explain to you.”

“You can’t take him.”

“If we don’t go today, we’ll have to go sooner or later. You can’t keep denying it forever.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“There’s every need. You’ve gone insane. You’re abducting our son.”

“Come with me.”

“You’re sick, Jaz. You need help.”

“You know you have questions. Come with me. We’ll find out together. We’ll solve this. There’s an explanation.”

They’d been raising their voices. Lisa was aware of a neighbor standing and watching them from across the street. She waved her hand, trying to look jaunty, unconcerned.

“Come inside, Jaz. Please. We can talk inside.”

“Only if you’ll agree to come with us.”

“OK, OK. Anything you say. Let’s just do this inside.”

“Raj, Mummy’s coming too! We’re going on an adventure! Isn’t it exciting?”

An hour later they were on their way to JFK, inching through the afternoon rush-hour traffic. Jaz was at the wheel. She was sitting in the back with Raj, who was strapped into his booster seat, swinging his legs and counting off the vehicles in the other lane.

“Blue car,” he said. “Red car. Red car white car black car blue car white car.”

She felt as if she were being kidnapped. Strap-hanging on the subway, she’d sometimes see another passenger reading a Bible. Usually they were black or Latino, heading in to minimum-wage jobs in the city. Cleaners, custodians. She’d always imagined their faith in God as primarily a protective thing. Warding off debt, family illness. Their Bibles were usually well thumbed, often in foreign languages. Sometimes passages were underlined or highlighted with fluorescent marker. She’d always felt not above, exactly, but far away from such people. Now she wished she had her own dog-eared, familiar book, something she could clutch in her hand as they made that terrible journey.

At the airport Jaz parked the car in the long-term parking lot and carried the cases toward the terminal. She wondered if she ought to make a run for it, perhaps find a cop. What should she say? Jaz was so determined. Unless she could have him arrested, committed to a mental hospital, there was no way of stopping him. She imagined herself carrying Raj, fleeing along a moving walkway. It was useless. Maybe, she told herself, by going along with this, she’d help him see how lost he was.

They bought tickets for Las Vegas and sat warily in the lounge, half watching TV. News commentators were arguing about the war. The
withdrawal from Iraq. The ramping up of operations in Afghanistan. There were brief images of mountains, bleak sandy desert. It was like a premonition.

“Are we going on a plane, Mommy?” asked Raj.

“Yes, dear.”

“Are we going to see Grandma Patty and Grandpa Louis?”

“No, baby. We’re just going to where you were when you were away.”

“Where’s that?”

Jaz leaned forward so he could hear. “Where you were. When you went away. You weren’t with us.”

“I couldn’t see you.”

“That’s right.”

“I was asleep.”

“No, Raj. Not when you were asleep. When you didn’t see us for a long time.”

“I went night-night.”

“No, Raj.”

“Leave him, Jaz. Leave him alone.”

Secretly she’d been sending texts. SOS messages to her mom, to Esther.
Jaz behaving manically. Forcing us to go back to desert. Please help
. When her mom called, Jaz looked over sharply. Don’t pick it up, he said. Don’t answer.

The flight was interminable. At McCarran they waited in line to rent a car. Neither would leave the other alone with Raj, each convinced that there would be trickery, that the other would try to sneak off. She hung around outside the men’s bathroom while Jaz and Raj were inside. When she needed to pee, she insisted on taking the boy in with her, even as he complained he didn’t need to go and she was hurting his wrist.

Locked in a cubicle, she called Esther.

“Are you OK?” she asked. “Has he threatened you?”

“No, nothing like that. But he says Raj isn’t Raj. That the real Raj has been replaced by something else. He thinks if we go back to the rocks we’ll solve some kind of mystery. He’s gone crazy, Esther. I don’t know what to do.”

“Why ever did you let him get you on a plane?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It seemed simpler. I thought if I let him go through with it, he might see how crazy he’s being.”

“You might be right. Once he gets there, he’ll probably calm down. How far away is it?”

“A couple of hours’ drive.”

“Do you want me to send the police?”

“I don’t know. What will they do? Jaz can fool people into thinking he’s normal. He’ll probably have some explanation for them.”

“I could call them anyway, let them know there’s a situation. It might be easier than you just grabbing one and causing a scene.”

“OK. Maybe. Oh, I don’t know. Look, maybe we should hold off. I’ll call you when we get there. If you don’t hear from me, phone them.”

“Good luck, dear.”

“Thanks, Esther. Speak to you later.”

Jaz was waiting outside the door, suspicious, antsy.

“What took you so long?”

She didn’t reply. She fitted Raj into the booster seat, then got in and waited for Jaz to settle himself. No harm can come to you, she thought. Not in any way that matters. You’re a child of a loving, personal God, whose infinite care and wisdom surrounds you now and forever. This is the world you live in. A world infused with the spirit of God.

It was late afternoon. Vegas ebbed away into drab suburbs, then trailer parks and vacant lots, fronted by billboards advertising future developments, casinos, personal-injury lawyers, evangelical churches, strip clubs. Then the land rose up in its full intensity, white rock tinted pale yellow by the lowering sun. Jaz turned off the interstate onto a two-lane blacktop. By now the land was burnished gold, the mountains in the distance a copper-red.

“We’re so close now,” he said. “Can you feel it?” It was the first either of them had spoken since Las Vegas. “I’m sorry I did this to you. I’m sorry I scared you. But can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel how right this is?”

“Yes,” she said. And, to her surprise, she meant it. The alien land was beautiful. The vast emptiness all around them seemed pregnant with something, some possibility she wanted to see made flesh.

They passed through a dilapidated settlement, a few houses with a gas station and a boarded-up motel. At the edge of town was a gnarled tree festooned with old sneakers, like a flock of crows sitting on its bare branches. The road climbed a ridge, then dropped down into a basin, where some kind of commercial chemical operation was taking place, sheds and huge tanks squatting on the flat. Then they climbed again, heading straight, or so it seemed, into the huge gold disk of the sun, right into its heart. A collision course.

Up ahead on the road, they saw flashing lights. A barrier had been erected. A highway patrol car was parked askew across both lanes. They pulled up in front of it and a policeman got out. Jaz rolled down the window.

“I’m sorry, sir. You’ll have to turn back.”

“I need to get to the Pinnacle Rocks.”

“Are you a local resident?”

“No.”

“Well, then, I’m afraid you’ll have to turn the car around. We’ve got a serious incident up ahead. It’s not safe to proceed.”

“What kind of incident?”

“I don’t know exactly, sir. I believe there’s been an explosion. Some kind of chemical release.”

“But I really need to get to the rocks. We’ve come a long way. From New York.”

“Is that right?”

“I’ve got my son here, my boy. He’s very tired.”

“Well, sir, then I don’t see why you’d want to be putting him in harm’s way. If you get back onto the interstate, you’ll see signs for a number of motels. There’s also a diversion sign posted about fifteen miles back.”

“You don’t understand. We need to get there. Is there another way?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’m just doing my job, and I’m afraid you’ll have to turn the car around and head on back in the direction you came.”

“Please. You don’t understand.”

“Sir, I’m not here to argue with you. This is not optional. Turn the car around and head back the way you came.”

Jaz swung the wheel. The narrow ribbon of road stretched away from them. Long shadows scored the sides of the mountains. They drove in silence. Lisa stole glances at him. His jaw was set, his eyes unblinking.

Suddenly, without warning, he turned off the road, bumping across the sand, a great plume of dust rising up behind them. Gravel skittered against the bodywork. There was a rhythmic thwack, the sound of creosote bushes hitting the underside of the car. Lisa braced herself against the dash.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not giving up.”

“Stop, Jaz! Please stop! It’s dangerous!”

The car vibrated. Jaz swung the wheel left and right to avoid large rocks. They were gradually climbing uphill. Eventually there was a massive jolt as they ran over something and came to a shuddering halt, the airbags deploying, filling up the car like giant white marshmallows. Jaz seemed not to care, struggling out of his seat belt and flinging open the door. He pulled Raj out of the car and set him on his shoulders.

“Come on!”

Sobbing, Lisa followed them. There was a cut above her eye. Blood was blurring her vision. Raj was babbling, a stream of wordless nonsense that rose in tone until it sounded more like a chirruping bird or a fax machine than human speech. They scrambled up a talus slope, Jaz reaching out a hand to help her over the difficult parts. Little avalanches of stones skipped down behind them. She could feel the heat exhaled from the earth. She no longer cared what happened to her. The world had reduced itself to the slippery gravel beneath her feet, her ragged breathing. At last they stood together on the ridge of the hill, sweating and gasping for breath, the three of them holding hands and looking out across the great basin below. In the distance, the only form to break the flat surface was the three-fingered hand of the Pinnacle Rocks. They could see no evidence of anything wrong. There was no cloud, no column of fire, no toxic mist. The air was blue. Ahead of them lay only a vast emptiness, an absence. There was nothing out there at all.

1775

From the daily record prepared by Padre Fray Francisco Garcés, son of the Colegio de la Santa Cruz, Queretáro, of the journey that he made in this year 1775 by order of His Excellency Don Antonio María Bucareli y Ursúa, Lieutenant-General, Viceroy, Governor and Captain-General of this New Spain, as made known in his letter of January 2nd of the said year and decided upon by the council of war held at México on November 28th of the year preceding; and by order likewise of the Padre Fray Romualdo Cartagena, Guardian of the said Colegio, in his letter of January 20th 1775, in which Fray Garcés was directed to look over the lands west of the river Colorado and treat with the neighboring nations, to determine if they were disposed and ready for receiving the catechism and becoming subjects of our Sovereign. The following passage was suppressed before the declaration of Imprimatur, confirmed by order of His Most Illustrious and Reverend Eminence, Carlo, Cardinal Rezzonico, Secretary of the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition
.

154th day:
In the last week I have traveled fourteen leagues on courses west and northwest, and today arrived at a ranchería of the Chemegueba nation, situated near a spring shaded by many palm trees. The men of the ranchería came forth and issued threats, and I believe I was spared martyrdom only by showing forth the image of the damned man, whereupon my tormentors were so afraid that they begged me to turn the painting round and show them once again the gentle face of Mary Most Holy. Accordingly I named the site of my reprieve, Aguaje de Kairos.

159th day:
In the last four days I have traveled ten leagues on a westward
course. My interpreters left this morning, saying that they had come to the limits of their country and here the country of their enemies begins. They begged me not to proceed farther, warning that ahead was only desolation. I was glad to see them go as I believe they are in league with the Adversary. I watched them go and indeed they were as fleet as deer.

164th day:
Of food and water I have very little. Even mice and small lizards are scarce here and it is my greatest desire to find a well. I have seen no sweet water since Aguaje de Kairos. I am afflicted with visions and do not know whether they are the work of God or my Enemy, whose name I dare not write.

BOOK: Gods Without Men
10.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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