Hari Kunzru - Gods Without Men

Raj obeyed. Jaz sank down onto a chair, put his head in his hands.

“Lisa, I know how weird this sounds.”

“You have no idea. What exactly did you say to her? She told me you need to see a psychiatrist. She told me she didn’t think you intended to harm our son. She had to say that — she didn’t think so, but she couldn’t be sure.”

“I’d never do anything to him. I swear.”

“So what’s going on? It’s Raj. Can’t you see that? There’s nothing wrong with him. Nothing’s changed.”

“I can’t put a finger on it. It’s as if — as if something’s wearing his skin.”

“You’re terrifying. I can’t believe I’m hearing you say this.”

“I know how it sounds. I’m scared too, Lisa. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“You need to talk to someone.”

“A shrink?”

“Yes, a shrink. God, you’ve been with him all this time, wheeling him around the city. Wherever it is you go. Anything could have happened.”

“I swear I’d never hurt him.”

“But you don’t even think it’s him. You think it’s something wearing his skin.”

“Lisa, I’ll see a shrink. Whatever you want. If it’s me, my mind or whatever, I’ll get it sorted out. But don’t you ever think it’s strange, the way he’s changing? He’s completely different.”

“Yes, he is. He’s better. I don’t understand why you find that so hard to accept. It’s what we’ve been praying for, and now you won’t even believe it.”

“I need to know what happened to him. I can’t stand not knowing. There’s something different about him. And yes, I don’t feel like it’s him. I can’t tell you why. Haven’t you noticed the way he looks at you?”

“Looks at me?”

“At both of us. Like he’s ancient. Like he knows all our secrets.”

“He’s a little boy, Jaz. He’s just a little boy. I want you to sleep downstairs tonight. I don’t want you near us.”

“That’s ridiculous, Lisa.”

“Ridiculous. Really?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Stay away, Jaz. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. This is too weird. You have to give me space.”

“Look at him, Lisa. That’s all I ask of you. Really look at him.”

She took Raj upstairs. As she got him ready for bed, brushing his teeth and helping him into his pajamas, she could hear Jaz roaming about downstairs, slamming doors, angrily rattling about in the kitchen. After a while the sound of the TV came filtering through the floor, some cop show, the volume turned up high.

Before she went to sleep, she wedged a chair under the door.

The next morning Jaz hung around in the kitchen doorway as she phoned Karl and told him she couldn’t make it in to work.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jaz said. “I’m not some kind of maniac.”

“I’m not leaving him with you.”

“I promise, Lisa. I’ll go to a shrink. Find one. Make an appointment. I’ll go.”

That day she didn’t let Raj out of her sight. She sat at the kitchen table with her MacBook, looking up psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, therapists of various kinds. Dr. Siddiqi had e-mailed a couple of names, and in the end it was one of them she phoned. She prayed silently for guidance before she went into the study, where Jaz was lying on the floor, doing stretches.

“That couch has destroyed my back.”

“I’m sorry you had an uncomfortable night.”

“OK.”

“I need to know you’re not a danger.”

“I see.”

“I can’t take the risk.”

“I’m not—”

“I know, you’re not a danger. I found you a psychiatrist. Here’s his name, and his number. You can see him Thursday afternoon. I thought you’d prefer a guy.”

“You did? OK.”

“You want to see a woman?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll see this”—he looked at the paper—“Dr. Zuckerman.”

She was relieved. That night, she and Jaz slept in the same bed, though she pulled the dresser partway across the door, so if he got up and moved it, he’d make a noise. He looked angry.

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

She shrugged. “Then you’ll wake me up.”

“OK, whatever you want.”

In the morning she phoned Karl, trying to let him know something serious was happening, without divulging details. She’d tell him. She’d already decided that. But she wanted to speak to him face-to-face, preferably over lunch. He’d be sympathetic. He might even be able to help.

“I can’t come in. It’s — a personal situation. I’m so sorry. Yes, I know about that. I’ll call him and reschedule. He can’t? I see. That’s tricky.”

Jaz was standing behind her, so close that when he spoke it made her jump.

“Come on, Lisa. You can’t do this forever. I haven’t hurt him. I won’t hurt him. I never would.”

“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.