Gregory Roberts - The Mountain Shadow

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Go and pay those debts tonight, man. Get yourself clear.’

He took each downward step on the stairway as if it was a new level of consideration, pausing before taking the next pondered step. His head bobbed out of sight around the curved staircase.

I watched him out of sight thoughtfully, and then turned to see Karla smiling at me.

‘I love you, Shantaram,’ she said, kissing me.

Some time later, Kesh solved two cases within two weeks, and became the star of the Lost Love Bureau. His attention to detail, and retention of detail, proved decisive in solving cases, and no interview proceeded without him.

Half-Moon Auntie and her intrepid clerk did the accounts for the bureau, and safeguarded sums of money for clients from time to time. She was an astute businesswoman, and spent long hours redesigning the business plan, saving money and hours for everyone else.

Her private sessions in Randall’s limousine kept her lunar-starved visitors content. A talent is how you use it , she said to me once, using her talents to illustrate the point.

Vinson and Rannveig returned from the ashram bleached of pride, but we didn’t see them often, because they were busy with their plans to open a coffee shop, and the necessary renovations.

When we did manage to catch them mid-renovation for a few minutes, Karla took Rannveig’s arm, leading her to girl talk, and leaving me with Vinson in the unfinished coffee shop.

‘It’s… like, you know that wave , that perfect wave, that just keeps on going, and won’t let you fall?’ Vinson said.

‘No, but I ride a motorcycle, and that’s like surfing civilisation.’

‘You know that totally, like, forever wave?’

‘I have a gas tank. I know how far forever is.’

‘No, I mean, it’s like that tendency field jelly that Idriss was talking about.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘I’m, like, surfing the superposition, you know, between equally surfable waves. Rannveig and Idriss, they really opened my mind up so much, man. Sometimes, I feel like I’m so full of ideas they’re falling out of my head.’

‘I’m glad you’re happy, Vinson. And it’s great, the coffee bar thing. Really happy, for you and Rannveig. Well, guess I’d better be getting along. We -’

‘This coffee thing is amazing,’ he said, gesturing toward large sacks, arranged against a wall. ‘I mean, like, if I just explain the difference between Colombian and Ghanaian blends to you, it’ll blow your mind wide open.’

‘Thanks for the warning. But you know, Karla will be along any minute, so I doubt we’ll have time to get into a big story like that.’

‘If she comes back, I’ll start it again,’ he said unhelpfully.

‘How’s Rannveig?’ I asked helpfully.

‘You know that wave, man, the perfect wave that, like, won’t let you fall?’

‘So glad you’re happy. Where do you think Karla and Rannveig got to?’

‘Just smell these fresh beans up close once,’ Vinson said, opening a sack. ‘They’re so good, you’ll never drink another cup of coffee again.’

‘Is that your slogan?’

‘No, man, our slogan is our name , man. Love & Faith , that’s the name of the place, and that’s the slogan.’

There was an innocence in Vinson that Rannveig had lost, when her boyfriend had died from the same drugs Vinson unthinkingly sold. And the innocence she found again, in his willingness to change, was the tender truth in the name they’d chosen for their business, Love & Faith .

‘Smell my beans,’ he insisted.

‘Ah… I’m good.’

‘Smell them!’ Vinson said urgently, dragging a dead body of beans toward me.

‘I’m not smelling your beans, Vinson, no matter how Colombian they are. Stop dragging that carcass.’

He shoved the bag against the wall again, just as Karla and Rannveig came back to join us.

‘He won’t smell my beans,’ Vinson complained.

‘He won’t?’ Karla scoffed. ‘The Lin I know is a bean fanatic.’

‘Stuart made a special blend,’ Rannveig said proudly. ‘I think it’s the best coffee I ever tasted.’

‘I’ve got it in the other room,’ Vinson said, ready to leave. ‘You can smell it, if you like.’

‘I’m good,’ I said quickly. ‘I can smell it from here.’

‘I told you, my Easter Bunny,’ Vinson said, hugging Rannveig. ‘People will smell our coffee from the street outside, and they’ll be, like, hypnotised or something.’

‘Good luck, guys,’ I said, drawing Karla out of the renovated shop.

‘Opening is at full moon,’ Rannveig said, mid-hug. ‘Don’t forget.’

On the street, we climbed onto the bike, but Karla stopped me before I could start the engine.

‘What did you feel from Vinson?’ she asked, her arm on my shoulder.

‘Waves of beans,’ I said. ‘What did you feel from Rannveig?’

‘Did he tell you what they’re calling the place?’

‘Yeah. Love & Faith . Why?’

‘Far as I can see,’ Karla said, ‘he’s the love, and she’s the faith.’

A car pulled up beside us, blocking the way. It was a hearse, in fact, with Dennis, the Not-Sleeping Baba, at the wheel. Concannon was in the passenger seat. Billy Bhasu and Jamal, the One Man Show, were sitting in the back, beside a shop window mannequin laid out in what looked like a clear plastic coffin.

Concannon had his elbow on the window.

‘Wanted,’ he said, grinning at Karla. ‘Dead or alive.’

‘Move,’ I said.

‘Hello, Karla,’ Dennis said. ‘So nice to meet you, awake. Did we meet, when I was on the other side?’

‘Hi, Dennis,’ she laughed, her arm around my shoulder. ‘You were certainly high, the first time I saw you. What the hell are you doing?’

‘We are testing the movements of Sleepers, while they are transported in a sleeping chamber,’ he said patiently. ‘I have attached sensitive strips to the mannequin. They will indicate bruises, of varying degree. That will help us to determine the most comfortable inner cushioning of the sleeping chambers we will have made for them.’

‘You’re making your own coffins?’ Karla asked.

‘Indeed,’ he said, passing a chillum to Concannon. ‘We must do it. Current sleeping chambers force the Sleepers to have their legs pressed together. Our sleeping chambers will have a wider stance. It’s very important for the comfort of Sleepers.’

‘I see,’ Karla smiled.

‘They will have the softest silk lining, padded with feathers,’ Dennis continued, his hands on the steering wheel. ‘And they will be made of glass, so that the Sleepers can have plants, small animals and insects roaming about in the earth, all around them, to keep them company while they sleep.’

‘Nice,’ Karla smiled.

‘May I present Billy Bhasu and Jamal, the One Man Show?’ Dennis said. ‘Boys, this is Karla-Madame.’

Billy Bhasu waved a smile at Karla, while Jamal wagged his head, jangling chained gods.

I couldn’t help myself.

‘One Man Show,’ I said, nodding at Jamal.

‘One Man Show,’ he repeated.

I looked at Karla, and she understood.

‘One Man Show,’ she said, smiling at him.

‘One Man Show,’ Jamal replied on cue, smiling back.

I looked at Concannon, wanting him to leave, but he was talking, instead.

‘The dead can dance, you know,’ he said conversationally.

I moved my eyes to Dennis, at the wheel of the hearse.

‘Are you sure you should be driving, Dennis?’ I asked, trying to shut Concannon down.

‘I must drive,’ Dennis intoned, his rumbling voice echoing in the hearse. ‘Concannon is not stoned enough to drive a hearse.’

‘The dead can dance,’ Concannon repeated, smiling happily. ‘They really can, you know.’