THE DEMON'S LEGACY
Chapter 13
The nightmare was familiar to Abrams, all too familiar. Back in the days when he used to get drunk, smoke weed, or use other drugs, he would often self-medicate before going to bed, in the hopes of escaping the nightmares. But since working for Maysam, he did none of that except for occasionally drinking off duty. As far as he was concerned, a situation like this trip to Jaipur meant he was constantly on duty, so alcohol was out of the question. And so the memories made their return deep in the night, creeping in like a deadly black serpent, into a pit from which he could not escape.
The figure was shadowy at first, as it often was, but he knew it to be his father. A muscular, tall man, even taller in the eyes of a young boy.
"I have to go to work, Aaron."
"No, Dad. Stay home. Just this once."
"We go through this every day, son." No anger in his parent's voice, just regret and weariness. Sadness. Always that sadness since the death of his wife. "Here comes your uncle."
That phrase always sickened Abrams, and he clung to the door of his father's car when his uncle opened it.
"Go on, son."
"What's the problem, Aaron?" his uncle asked with that sickening, indulgent tone.
Abrams refused to look at his uncle, fought back tears. "Just today, Dad. We can go fishing."
"I'm sorry. I have to work."
In the dream, his uncle turned into that black serpent, wrapping around him, dragging him out of the car. Abrams screamed for his father, but the car was gone, and the serpent's coils tightened, pulled him into the house. In the next moment, he was alone, in bed, everything deathly quiet. Darkness seemed to move around him, like a swirl of mist. He heard only his own breathing. The door creaked, and he held his breath, slipped farther beneath the blankets. But there was no hiding from the serpent; it slithered into his bed, its scales cold and repulsive as they slid along Abrams's burning skin. He tried to fight it off, struggling blind beneath the blankets, becoming more and more tangled, screaming for his father.
"Aaron! Aaron, wake up."
Someone's hands upon him, shaking his shoulder, scaring away the constricting snake. He awoke with a gasp, the darkness suddenly replaced by a warm glow, a glow that seemed to emanate from around Maysam's head as she bent over his bed, a worried look on her face.
"Jesus, Maysam…" He sat up, tried to get his bearings.
"Shh. You'll wake Henri. You were having a bad dream, so I thought it best to wake you."
"Okay…yeah, thanks." He glanced around. Not the palace; no, Jaipur… Maysam's bedroom. Christ. What shitty timing. "Sorry I woke you."
"I was awake. I don't sleep very well away from home. Are you all right? Can I get you some water?"
"No. No, I'm fine. Thanks." He tugged the sheet closer to him, though he was hot, his t-shirt and shorts damp with sweat, the sweat of fear from the dream.
"You don't sound fine," Maysam said, frowning.
To his regret, she pulled a nearby wooden chair up to his bed and sat. Then she shocked him by taking his hand in both of hers. Her flesh was cool from the air conditioning, the light from the small lamp near her bed bronzing her skin.
"You have nightmares regularly."
"No, not much anymore."
"I know you've had nightmares about the pit, but this was different, wasn't it? You called for your father."
"Really, Maysam, it was just a bad dream. Everyone has 'em. Why don't you go back to bed?"
"Aaron." Now that familiar stubbornness took hold of her, tightening her lips as well as her grip on his hand. "We've known each other a long time now, haven't we? We are friends, are we not?"
"Sure, but—"
"And friends talk to one another, confide in one another."
"About some things, yeah—"
"More and more it hurts me when you shut me out."
Her admission brought his protests to a stunned halt. She drew her hands back to her lap.
"I don't expect you to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets, Aaron. If you don't want to tell me about your dream, I won't press." She paused. "But I want you to know…if you ever do want to share…anything with me, I will be happy to listen. I want to listen." Her frown returned. "Perhaps your reticence is why you still have these terrible dreams."
Abrams tried to make light of her words. "You think I need a shrink?"
"I think it would help for you to talk to someone, to me perhaps. You have survived years of hell. I didn't live in the pit prison, but my heart and soul were there with my daughter, so if anyone understands the emotional scars left behind by that place, it is me. And if it is something more than the pit, I still think I could help you."
"I appreciate your concern, but really," he shook his head, forced a smile, "it was just a dream."
"Aaron. You know me well enough to realize I am not a fool."
He started to defend himself again, but all words fell away when she took his face in her hands, leaned close, too damn close, stared into his eyes, both commanding and compassionate. Then she kissed him on the lips, lingered only a moment, then freed him and sat back.
"There," she said. "You are speechless at last. Good. Now I can have my say. You are a good man, Aaron Abrams, but for some reason you don't think you are, and that's why you don't let anyone help you. Well, I am going to remedy that, mark my words."
Abrams felt like a fool, just sitting there with his mouth slightly open, still relishing the taste of her lips, her tantalizing scent, paralyzed between the desire to take her in his arms or to run for the door.
Maysam smoothed her nightgown against her thighs and looked down as if suddenly demure. "I certainly hope I have not scandalized you too much with my forward display."
"No," he stammered. "Surprised me, sure, but—"
"Surprised you because I am your employer or because you did not suspect my feelings for you?"
"Um, both, I guess."
"Should I apologize for my behavior?"
"Absolutely not." Abrams realized her kiss had completely erased the nightmare from his mind, at least for that moment.
"It really isn't appropriate," she said near a clandestine whisper, with a mischievous little smile and a glance toward Bane's room. "After all, my great-grandson is in the next room."
"True, I guess."
"Perhaps we can…revisit this once we are back at the palace."
Thoughts of the dream, of the snake, returned to quash some of his enthusiasm, but he didn't want to hurt Maysam, so he murmured, "Maybe we can."
She hesitated. "Well, if you are sure you are all right, I will leave you be and go back to bed."
"I…yeah, I'm sure. You should try to get some sleep. We have to be up in just a couple of hours."
Was that disappointment he saw in her sultry eyes? But, Christ, what should he do? Before he could decide, she gave him a small smile and returned to her bed. He started to speak, to say that maybe they could talk, just for a little while, but then she clicked off the lamp, and darkness rolled back over him. But he knew he would be awake the rest of the night, thinking of that kiss and more.
###
"Elephants, Jiddah!" Henri shrieked with delight. "Elephants!"
Abrams had not even put the SUV in park before Henri was trying to get out of the locked vehicle.
"Patience, Jin," Bane scolded. "You will mind me or there will be no elephant ride."
Henri plastered his face against the window, staring out at the elephants in a large courtyard adjacent to the car park. Some were lumbering away, carrying tourists; others were awaiting the next load of humanity.
With face concealed by his shemagh, Bane exited the vehicle, then reached in to collect his son.
"Put down, Papa Baba."
"Not yet, my cub. There are too many cars and people here. I will carry you to the elephants."
"Hurry!"
"I will move at whatever pace I desire, Jin. You will be patient and wait for Jiddah."
As always, Abrams held Maysam's door for her, and she stepped into the sunshine in flowing black abaya and hijab. When she smiled and thanked him, Abrams reddened slightly.
That morning, at breakfast, Bane had sensed that something significant had happened between Abrams and Maysam overnight. He was unsure what it was, but he knew it had not been sexual, for he was confident Maysam would never indulge in such activity with her great-grandson so near. Or perhaps he did not know her as well as he thought; after all, her old affair with Barsad had been far more daring than sleeping with Abrams. Either way, seeing the two's silent connection pleased Bane, for they seemed very happy, almost shy, like two people who had just discovered one another. Bane looked forward to telling Talia; she would be very pleased.
They, along with Bane's bodyguard, walked with other tourists from the car park to the courtyard where the Asian elephants and their herders waited. The animals, their tusks trimmed short, seemed dull to Bane, though he could not blame them after spending their days lumbering up the pathway to the Amber Fort, the massive stone structure looming over them from high atop a hill. Several of the elephants' heads had been festively painted with pastel colors, perhaps, Bane figured, to offset their lackluster expressions. Blankets of scarlet, blue, and gold draped their backs and hung below their wrinkled gray bellies, and atop these were small rectangular platforms where one to two tourists could ride, facing sideways.
"Wanna pet, Papa Baba," Henri pleaded, reaching out with seeking fingers.
"We must ask permission first. And you must be gentle and quiet, so you don't frighten them. They don't know you, remember."
Henri nodded, never taking his eyes off the huge creatures. "They smell, Papa Baba." He giggled, wrinkling his nose.
"No doubt they think we smell, too, little cub."
Henri giggled some more.
Since it was early in the day following their eleven-kilometer drive northeast to Amer, the line of visitors waiting for the elephants was not too long. Abrams paid the fees for two elephants as Bane cautiously approached the one Henri would ride.
"My son would like to pet your elephant. Is that acceptable, dost?"
The wiry dark man astride the elephant's short neck seemed taken aback by the size of the man addressing him, but finally he bobbed his head. "Yes. But not long. Must go."
Henri trembled with excitement, suddenly quiet and unsure, his hands together as he chewed on his lips, staring at the elephant. The creature's dark eye considered the child with little interest.
"You may pet him, Jin. But we must not take long. Go ahead."
"It's all right, habibi," Maysam said. "He will not hurt you. He is used to children."
Carefully watching his son's face, Bane stepped next to the elephant and reached out his own hand to touch the creature's warm, leathery skin.
"See," Bane said. "There is nothing to fear."
With an expression full of wonder, Henri slowly reached out, holding his breath. When his fingers touched the elephant, he gasped.
"Must go," the herder said in his accented English. "Must go. Many people waiting."
"You will ride with Jiddah," Bane said to Henri. "Abrams will ride on the elephant behind yours."
Henri seemed not to hear, still reverentially petting the animal. The large ears flapped, stirring the air, cooling Bane's brow.
"What about you, Haris?" Maysam asked.
"I will not subject my weight upon one of these creatures. I will take the steps and meet you just inside the Sun Gate. Do you promise to be good for Jiddah, Henri?"
Bane took Henri's diaper bag from Maysam, then drew back from the elephant so Maysam and Henri could go to a nearby platform to mount their elephant.
"Did you hear me, son? You will sit very still with Jiddah. You will hurt yourself badly if you fall off the elephant. You will hold onto the little railing and Jiddah. Understand?"
"Yes, Papa Baba. I promise."
"Very well."
Bane waited below the platform while Maysam and Henri were safely taken aboard. From his lofty perch, Henri stared around him, agape, showing no fear.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Maysam?" Abrams asked nervously from the platform, though Bane wondered if his friend's trepidation was more for himself than Maysam, who seemed completely at ease atop the elephant.
"I will be fine, Aaron," she said, close to a laugh, watching him awkwardly mount the next elephant.
Bane took his phone from his pocket and snapped some pictures and video of Henri for Talia as the herder urged the elephant on its way. He stifled a chuckle at the spectacle of Abrams clinging to the rails of the riding platform. Earlier, when they had discussed the elephant ride, Bane had suggested Abrams allow his League brother to accompany Maysam and Henri up to the fort, but Abrams refused to let anyone else safeguard Maysam.
Bane reached the top of the hill just before Henri's and Abrams's trudging elephants. The small bells some of the elephants wore around their necks jingled musically as they filed through the archway of the narrow Sun Gate. Standing separate from the groups of milling tourists, Bane took more pictures as Henri's elephant entered the immense courtyard. The boy held dutifully to his great-grandmother as well as the railing beside him, his body swaying side to side with the elephant's prehistoric movement. His animated voice echoed off the red sandstone walls. When he spotted his father, he waved and called to him. Abrams's elephant followed behind, its passenger clinging to the railings of the platform, Abrams's expression one of someone eager to dismount.
The elephants were guided over to a wall of a height that made disembarking easy for the riders. Bane climbed up to assist them, all the while his ears filled with Henri's steady stream of news about his magical ride.
"Big water out there." Henri pointed back through the Sun Gate toward Maota Lake, which lay at the eastern base of the hill. "We go swimming, Papa Baba?"
"No, little one. That lake is not for swimming. Come now, give me your hand."
"No, keep riding."
"No, the ride is over. Your elephant must go back down the hill to fetch more people."
"I want to pet him."
"Maybe you can pet one later. Hurry, now."
Henri pouted but surrendered to his father's grip.
"Bye-bye, elephant," Henri said. "Thank you for ride."
In Bane's arms, he waved as the creature shuffled away. As they waited for Abrams to huff and puff his way awkwardly from his mount, Henri's expression sobered as he watched the constant flow of elephants coming and going through the Sun Gate.
"Papa Baba?"
"Yes, Jin?"
"Elephants sad."
"What makes you say that?" His son's intuition surprised Bane.
Henri frowned. "Man hit elephant. Like this." He slapped the side of his head. "We take them all home. Make them happy. Not hit them. They live in the garden."
"I do not think Nashir would approve."
"Definitely not," Maysam said.
"But the elephants sad."
Not wanting to delve into the subject of animal abuse, Bane said, "I think they are perhaps just bored, doing the same thing over and over all morning. Just like how you don't like taking a bath every night or going to bed at the same time."
Sputtering to himself, straightening his clothes, Abrams drew near. "We don't have to ride those things back down the hill later, do we?"
Maysam laughed. "No, they only bring people up, not down."
"Thank God."
"Unca Abrams don't like elephants, Papa Baba."
"So it would seem. Now, let us explore this marvelous site before the weather becomes unbearable." He turned so Henri could take in the full view of the courtyard. "This is the Jaleb Chowk, the place where the maharaja's soldiers would parade after returning from war, displaying all the booty they had brought back with them. And from those screened windows over there, ladies like Jiddah would watch."
"I be a soldier, Papa Baba?"
"Perhaps one day, little cub."
They spent the rest of the morning wandering with the hundreds of other visitors through the various courtyards and gardens of the massive, ancient palace compound. Henri rode upon his father's shoulders, and at that height, it was easy for him to spot the elephant-shaped capitals on the twenty-seven colonnades in the public audience hall. For the rest of their time there, he looked for anything elephant-related among the architecture. His favorite feature, however, was the Jai Mandir in the third courtyard, where the private quarters of the maharaja, his family, and court had lived. Glass inlaid panels and ceilings with multiple tiny, decorative mirrors fascinated all visitors. Colored foil and paint embellished the myriad of convex mirrors. A rope barrier and a guard kept the tourists from touching the ancient mirrorwork.
"This is known as the Sheesh Mahal, or the glass palace," Bane explained to his son. "Servants like Hisham would light candles here during cold days. The flames would reflect off all these mirrors and make this a very warm, pleasant spot for the royal family."
"For Jiddah?"
Maysam chuckled. "I am not royalty, habibi."
"Don't let her fool you, kid," Abrams said. "She is royalty."
Bane hid his surprise at Abrams's boldness, but it pleased him how the compliment made Maysam blush and lose the ability to speak. She waved a dismissive hand and walked away, studying the shimmering mirrors.
"Jiddah queen!" Henri proclaimed.
"That she is, my son."
By midday they finished their tour of the fort and gardens. The day's growing heat had wilted all of them except Henri. Bane sent his bodyguard to the parking lot to retrieve their vehicle and meet them at the north entrance, so Maysam would not be subjected to the long walk back down the hill.
While they waited in the main courtyard, Henri happily watched the elephants in their stoic duties. He was particularly enchanted when his father paid one of the herders to allow him to feed an elephant a treat. When the elephant gently snuffled him with his trunk, Henri laughed and petted him without fear.
When Bane told him to say good-bye, Henri looked reproachfully at the herder atop the elephant and pointed a finger. "No hit elephant. Be nice."
The herder gave him a blank look and urged the elephant back toward the Sun Gate.
That evening, they returned to the fort to watch the light and sound show. Henri marveled at the dance of colored lights against the imposing walls of the fort as a narrator with a baritone voice boomed out the equally-colorful history of the centuries-old structure. Music echoed against the surrounding hills and out over the town below, causing Henri to jig and bounce. His energy had been replenished by a long afternoon nap with his great-grandmother, but even that failed to sustain him long once back in the SUV for the trip back to Jaipur. He went limp in his father's lap less than five minutes into the ride.
Bane smiled down at his son's peaceful countenance, grateful for this trip and the opportunity not only to spend time with his child but to show more of the outside world to Henri. He and Talia had thus far kept Henri sequestered at the palace except for a couple of day trips to Jodhpur, which was much closer. Yes, it was safer that way, but it reminded Bane of his own boyhood when he had been imprisoned, missing out on life and experiences in the world of light. Once free, he had been behind the learning curve, having to devour years of lost knowledge in a short while during his training with the League. He now vowed that he would not put his son at that same disadvantage. Out of fear, Talia may argue against expanding their child's world, but Bane was confident he could convince her of its worth.
Again, he looked down at his sleeping boy, considered the adventures that lay ahead for him. Silently Bane promised that Henri would be prepared for anything, with both his parents at his side.