Soul Integrity by Dennis Batchelder

Author:Dennis Batchelder
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: reincarnation, faith, courage, soul identity, claudia, xinya
Publisher: dennis batchelder

twenty-three

Xinya–India–December 11, 1980

The train ride took all night, with over a hundred pilgrims crammed into her carriage. Xinya found a spot at the corner of a wooden bench, and she was able to rest for only the second time in four days. She smiled at the thought that just a week ago she would never have been able to sleep with babies crying, people passing gas from both ends of their bodies, at least six radios playing different songs, and strange singing and humming coming from the older men.

At sunrise, the train pulled into Benares, and she stepped down onto the platform. She carried just her purse; her luggage was probably still in Lucknow. The coolies didn’t keep up when she jumped onto the running boards before the engine picked up too much speed.

It was already seven in the morning. Less than four hours to find Claudia and stop the madness. She pulled the paper with Raff’s writing out of her purse, along with a small map Brandon had drawn for her. “Kashi Temple. Dashashwamedha Ghat. Anup Chatterjee. 10AM.”

Would it have been better had she let Brandon come with her?

She put that thought of her assistant out of her mind, strode through the beggars milling around her, and caught the attention of a man standing next to a two-wheeled rickshaw.

“Can you take me to Kashi Temple?” she asked.

He waggled his head.

“How long to get there?”

“You will be getting there in thirty minutes, Madame-ji.” He stood up and grasped the shafts, tilting the rickshaw back. She climbed into the seat, and with a grunt, he started pulling.

The rickshaw runner swerved his way around two cars, a truck, and some camels. He squeezed between a donkey cart and another truck, and Xinya closed her eyes when it appeared they may get crushed.

She leaned forward and asked, “Is it always this busy?”

“This season is slow, Madame-ji. The roads are empty. If we were in April, you would be sitting at the train station, still waiting to push off.” He stopped and turned around. “Are you here on a pilgrimage?”

She shook her head. “No, I am looking for my friend.”

“May I be of assistance?”

Why not? “My friend’s name is Claudia Famosa,” she said. “She is with a guide named Anup Chatterjee. They are supposed to be at either the Kasi Temple or the Dashashwamedha Ghat at ten this morning.

“Anup Chatterjee?” the runner asked.

She nodded. “Do you know him?”

He waggled his head. “I am finding out, Madame-ji.” Right in the middle of the street, he set down the rickshaw’s shafts, and said, “I shall be returning in two minutes.”

Xinya looked around. The stream of cars and trucks and bicycles and motorcycles, as well as other rickshaws and tractors and even a small herd of cows, moved around her rickshaw without any discernable problems. After twenty minutes of waiting, her rickshaw runner returned, picked up the shafts, and started walking again.

“Did you find Anup Chatterjee?”

“Nobody knows him, Madame-ji.”

“Then are you taking me to the Kashi temple?”

“No, Madame-ji.

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