Читать книгу All Inclusive - Farzana Doctor - Страница 15

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My stomach grumbled. We’ d taken off an hour and a half late and there wouldn’t be a meal until after the stop in Montreal. When the little girl across the aisle offered me one of her candies, I accepted. I shook her hand, introduced myself formally, and learned that her name was Meena. She was the twirling Brownie from the airport.

“How old are you, Meena?”

“I just turned eight last month.” When she smiled, her face creased into deep dimples.

“And is this your first trip to India?”

“No! We visited Nani and Nana three years ago,” she said in a tone that suggested that I was most definitely a silly goose.

“Ah, so your second trip, then.”

Meena’s mother, who was seated beside her, smiled at me and said not to bother the nice man.

“On the contrary, I’m enjoying your daughter’s company. And she was ever so kind to offer one of her Life Savers.” I winked at Meena, who beamed proudly. Meena’s mother nodded and shrugged as though to say “suit yourself” and resumed reading her novel.

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After Montreal, the head stewardess announced that it was the flight engineer’s final trip and he would begin his retirement the following day. There was a round of hearty applause for him. Then she told us that a Hindi movie would be played after the meal was served. In an excited voice she added that there was a special bonus — a movie star from the film was on the flight with us. There was a collective gasp and passengers craned their necks to get a glimpse of the celebrity. I was completely out of the Bollywood loop by then and didn’t recognize his name. The elderly woman sitting beside me opened The Magic Carpet, Air India’s magazine, and showed me a picture of him posing beside a slender white woman.

Perhaps I should have allowed Meena’s mother to rein in her chatty daughter. For the next two hours, she told me all about Miss Platt, her second-grade teacher, described each and every badge she’ d earned in Brownies, and showed me the contents of her bag, which included three picture books, a change of clothing, and a Cabbage Patch doll. It was brown, fat-cheeked, and wore a sparkly crown. Meena asked me if I wanted to hold her for a minute and then thrust the doll into my arms. I stared into its painted-on gaze and laughed out loud.