screams mixed with the sobbing of the grieving relatives.
I wanted to scream too.
Obi’s loose time connection should have sent him spinning off into another time, a different, kinder dream, but he just stood screaming, screaming, as if he’d be fixed to this spot for ever.
I scooped him up and I willed us away from the horror and the wailing humans. I had no clue where to take him, I just screamed, “AWAY”, and the nightmarish train with its corpses blurred out of focus, mercifully rushing away like smoke.
Chapter Fifteen
T here were no detours this time, no princesses in palaces playing tag with their kids. We sped through days and nights like an arrow, as if there was only one Time, only one place, left to go.
When the Universe eventually firmed up, I found myself shakily looking up at Hrithik Roshan. Not the actual movie star, but a massive movie poster showing him and Aishwarya Rai in their new Bollywood blockbuster.
We’d come back full circle to the twenty-first century. My brain tried to take this in, but everything seemed unreal and hellish.
We were on the edge of a vast steaming garbage tip under skies hazy with pollution. So much rubbish had gone in over the years it was now hideously compacted together: chicken bones, rags, pitiful old shoes. Plus all the planet’s unwanted plastic bags seemed to have chosen this one spot as their final graveyard.
If it wasn’t for Hrithik and Aishwarya, actually, I might have thought we’d landed in an Indian Hell dimension.
Carefully sifting through the heap were humans of all ages, from old men and women to tiny little tots. Through the toxic haze they looked disturbingly like ghosts. Coming on top of the horror of the train massacre this new ugliness threatened to overwhelm me.
But I couldn’t let that happen. I had to stay strong for Obi.
To calm myself, I counted my blessings. 1. Obi was safe. 2. By some miracle we were back in the right century. 3. Soon the boys were sure to find us.
A woman and her little daughter were crouching in the garbage, carefully teasing out plastic bags from the stinking mess. Each time they’d successfully extracted a whole bag, they smoothed it carefully, like it was some kind of precious trophy, adding it to their growing pile.
An old man with matted hair sat nearby, waving a crumpled beedi , keeping time as he sang in Hindi. “You get everything here, yet you can’t find a heart”>Be careful, save yourself, this is Mumbai, my dear.”
He broke off his song and took a puff from his beedi.
“That is a personal message from the Lords of Karma,” he told the woman in a slurred voice. “Save yourself and your children, beti . Leave this terrible city, before it’s too late.”
My heart did a flip of surprise as I made the connection. We hadn’t just ended up in the twenty-first century, we were in Mumbai, home to Bollywood!
A few miles up the road stars like Hrithik and Aishwarya danced through lawn sprinklers, singing of undying love. Just a few miles, yet it could be a different planet, I thought, trying not to inhale the fumes rising from the garbage.
I squatted down beside Obi wondering how he was handling our latest change of time and place. When he time-hopped before, he’d instantly forgotten where we’d just been. I prayed that he’d forgotten this time.
Don’t , I told myself quickly. Don’t think about the train .
Obi was watching the woman and her daughter with his bewildered little frown. I naturally assumed he was finding so much squalor upsetting.
“We won’t be here long. The boys will catch up with us soon,” I comforted him.
He didn’t hear. It was like he was desperately trying to figure something out.
An old woman came struggling over the tip towards the woman and her child. “Parvati, I was just thinking about you,” she greeted her. “Any more trouble from Razak’s goondas l”
“No, no trouble,” said Parvati. “No goondas , no bulldozers. We are all hoping he has
I wanted to scream too.
Obi’s loose time connection should have sent him spinning off into another time, a different, kinder dream, but he just stood screaming, screaming, as if he’d be fixed to this spot for ever.
I scooped him up and I willed us away from the horror and the wailing humans. I had no clue where to take him, I just screamed, “AWAY”, and the nightmarish train with its corpses blurred out of focus, mercifully rushing away like smoke.
Chapter Fifteen
T here were no detours this time, no princesses in palaces playing tag with their kids. We sped through days and nights like an arrow, as if there was only one Time, only one place, left to go.
When the Universe eventually firmed up, I found myself shakily looking up at Hrithik Roshan. Not the actual movie star, but a massive movie poster showing him and Aishwarya Rai in their new Bollywood blockbuster.
We’d come back full circle to the twenty-first century. My brain tried to take this in, but everything seemed unreal and hellish.
We were on the edge of a vast steaming garbage tip under skies hazy with pollution. So much rubbish had gone in over the years it was now hideously compacted together: chicken bones, rags, pitiful old shoes. Plus all the planet’s unwanted plastic bags seemed to have chosen this one spot as their final graveyard.
If it wasn’t for Hrithik and Aishwarya, actually, I might have thought we’d landed in an Indian Hell dimension.
Carefully sifting through the heap were humans of all ages, from old men and women to tiny little tots. Through the toxic haze they looked disturbingly like ghosts. Coming on top of the horror of the train massacre this new ugliness threatened to overwhelm me.
But I couldn’t let that happen. I had to stay strong for Obi.
To calm myself, I counted my blessings. 1. Obi was safe. 2. By some miracle we were back in the right century. 3. Soon the boys were sure to find us.
A woman and her little daughter were crouching in the garbage, carefully teasing out plastic bags from the stinking mess. Each time they’d successfully extracted a whole bag, they smoothed it carefully, like it was some kind of precious trophy, adding it to their growing pile.
An old man with matted hair sat nearby, waving a crumpled beedi , keeping time as he sang in Hindi. “You get everything here, yet you can’t find a heart”>Be careful, save yourself, this is Mumbai, my dear.”
He broke off his song and took a puff from his beedi.
“That is a personal message from the Lords of Karma,” he told the woman in a slurred voice. “Save yourself and your children, beti . Leave this terrible city, before it’s too late.”
My heart did a flip of surprise as I made the connection. We hadn’t just ended up in the twenty-first century, we were in Mumbai, home to Bollywood!
A few miles up the road stars like Hrithik and Aishwarya danced through lawn sprinklers, singing of undying love. Just a few miles, yet it could be a different planet, I thought, trying not to inhale the fumes rising from the garbage.
I squatted down beside Obi wondering how he was handling our latest change of time and place. When he time-hopped before, he’d instantly forgotten where we’d just been. I prayed that he’d forgotten this time.
Don’t , I told myself quickly. Don’t think about the train .
Obi was watching the woman and her daughter with his bewildered little frown. I naturally assumed he was finding so much squalor upsetting.
“We won’t be here long. The boys will catch up with us soon,” I comforted him.
He didn’t hear. It was like he was desperately trying to figure something out.
An old woman came struggling over the tip towards the woman and her child. “Parvati, I was just thinking about you,” she greeted her. “Any more trouble from Razak’s goondas l”
“No, no trouble,” said Parvati. “No goondas , no bulldozers. We are all hoping he has
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