Parking Ticket

Katherine Hudson (That was the Anglicized version of her Indian name)! Her Indian name could be of consequence here, but let’s call her Kay. Like the character- Kay Adams in “The Godfather”.
 
Nothing special about the name, isn’t it? True! There was nothing special about her. Neither she had the looks to be called a “beauty”, nor did she possess wealth to be called an heiress.

There was one thing different about Kay. She was bright, she was smart and she was extremely intelligent. Her academic inclination blossomed as she stepped into her teens. For some reason, she hated being beaten by anybody in academics. Her ambition of playing with numbers took a definite shape when she got into a bachelors course in Economics. Her ability to question, and question with conviction impressed one and many. She did not aspire to go places. She thirsted for knowledge.

She was an obedient child. When she turned twenty-one, her conservative parents found a good match in Kumar and got her married. Kumar’s credentials were impressive- He lived in the United States, had a green card, earned a decent salary and above all came from the same caste as hers. Kumar was a good husband. Although he made no efforts for them to become soul mates, he was a good provider, protector and everything else, which was expected of a decent Indian husband.

For the next nineteen years, they lived a life which ranged from being mundane to being exciting. Kumar encouraged her to study further and find professional success.

She started working for the local library initially and took classes in the community college. Then she became a teller in a Bank and in a few years saved enough to get into the Business School of a State University. When she graduated, she was hired by a Stockbroking firm. After a while, she shifted to Investment Banking and very soon the Bank realized that she was a banker with a “Midas touch”.

One fine day her world came crashing down.

Kumar had just come back from work. She found him sitting on the sofa when she entered the house. He looked at her and said, “I need a Divorce”.

“What?”

“Yes, I need a divorce”, he repeated.  She did not react. Maybe she was dreaming.

It then went through the usual way.

He started explaining things. She was in no mood to listen any of that. She did not even want to hear the name of the “woman” whose compatibility quotient in a few months was much more than theirs in those nineteen years that she and Kumar had spent together.

She just said, “Will you handle the legalities”.

The normal reaction expected of her would have been tears and drama. But Kay mind and soul were made of a different alloy. She was calm all throughout the ordeal. Even in these rough times, Kumar was considerate. Or maybe, he felt guilty for what he was doing. He sold the house and divided the proceeds equally between them. They did not have any children, so the complications were lesser.

Kay was financially well-off, but an emotional wreck. She took a leave of absence stayed home for two months. Her moments of introspection yielded nothing but stronger will to succeed.

 
She called up her Bank and resigned. When the head of HR asked her the reason for resigning, she said that she wanted to relocate.

“Perfect”, he said. “Then you are not resigning. You are moving to Los Angeles”.

Kay made the move westward. The times weren’t angelic, but she was moving to the “City of Angels”.

******

The offices of White Tusker Bank were located in Downtown Los Angeles.

The move had not been easy for Kay. Banking in the West Coast was an altogether different ball game. Moreover, she was moving from hardcore “Investment Banking to sophisticated “Private Banking”.

Los Angeles welcomed Kay with all warmth. She found a spacious apartment in the historic “Miracle Mile” district. Los Angeles had amazing weather and its cosmopolitan confluence put Kay at ease.


Life needed a new start, and she was giving it a second chance.

******

She quietly eased her car into the basement parking lot. She had a busy day and needed to park as fast as possible. As she stopped her car, a gloved hand opened the door for her. She did not even look at the face.

She said a quick, “thank you”, grabbed the ticket and walked briskly to the lobby. In exactly fifteen minutes, she had a meeting with an important investor. She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would take her to the desired floor. Before the door closed, a gloved hand got between the doors.

“You could have cut your hand into two parts” she told the fellow. He smiled and stood there. In his other hand was her mobile phone. He raised his hand to give it to her.


“Thank you”, she said. He smiled again.


Next morning she saw him again. He spoke nothing but kept smiling. He must have been in his twenties, maybe approaching thirty. Not a day more.


“Hi!” She said. She wanted him to speak and confirm that he could speak. He nodded his head and smiled. It was weird.


Initially, he would be there every morning.   He was polite and acted as gentlemanly as a valet could be. There was always a warm smile on his face, and a gloved hand would open the door every time she stopped her car to be parked. She liked this start to her day.


A few weeks later she observed that he would be the one who took her car every morning and brought it every evening. She calculated. She arrived at eight every morning and left at six every evening. There was no reason he should be having a ten-hour shift.  Gosh! Was he trying to hit on her? She decided to ignore.


From the next day onwards she stopped smiling. She did not want him to have a wrong impression that she was reciprocating.


It became obvious one day. When he opened the door to her, he had a bunch of flowers in the other hand. Another valet stood along with him. “His name Santiago. He not speak good English” his friend told her. He continued smiling. “He bring you flowers for Valentine’s Day”.


Kay did not know how to react.


She dismissed his playful enthusiasm as a “passing phase” – it was clichéd in this world for a young man to be attracted to an older woman. She decided to ignore. She took the bunch of flowers, smiled at both of them and walked into the lobby.


The bunch of flowers ended up in the first trash can she saw. Although she did not want to hurt his feelings, she did not wish to be seen carrying flowers. And at forty one, she did not wish to believe that a younger man wanted more than a romp in bed with her.


In the evening, Santi had the same bunch with him. It was neatly wrapped in a plastic sheet. He said nothing but pointed to the bunch of flowers on the rear seat of her car.


She was furious. She wanted to walk to his supervisor’s office and lodge a complaint. But then she stopped. Her anger would only get him fired.  She called the other Valet and asked him, “Do you speak his language?”


He Nodded.


“Ask him what he wants? Tell him I am not interested in him or do I want flowers”. This was followed by a conversation which meant gibberish to Kay.


“Santi says he likes you. He wanted to give you flowers. He knew you couldn’t keep them with you, so you threw them into the trash can. He picked it up, rewrapped it and put it on the rear seat of your car so that you could take it back home.


At that moment, Santi spoke some more gibberish. The other guy translated, “Santi says he would not trouble you again. He apologizes”.


Kay gestured for her car to be brought back.


True to his word, he did not see her again. This made her comfortable. She saw him in the elevator after a few days. When she greeted him, he said a quiet hello and smiled.


Next day when she asked the valet attendant, “Where is the guy who does not speak English?” It was a strange way to describe Santi, but Kay could not think of anything better.


“Are you talking about Santi”, he said.


“Oh Yes! Santi”


“He is at the Self-parking area”.


She nodded and walked towards the self-parking area. There he was, giving directions and helping people to park. He saw her, and slowly started walking towards her.


“Hi”, she said.


“Hi”, he replied.


“I don’t see you in the Valet Parking area nowadays. Everything ok?” she asked.


He probably understood her. In broken English he said, “I self-parking area”.


Kay couldn’t help but smile. She felt bad for the poor chap. She was responsible for that shift. Suddenly she said, “Would you like to have coffee with me? It’s a strictly friendly cup of coffee”.


He nodded and said, “Coffee”. He repeated “coffee”.

“Would Six-thirty in the evening suit you? There is a Starbucks round the corner”. He nodded again.


She bought him a cup of coffee in the evening. She felt a bit uncomfortable. There was she in strictly official attire- black pants, white shirt and a black jacket while he was in his valet’s uniform. He though was at ease. Even after being in the United States for more than two decades, Kay hadn’t yet become American in totality.

******

In time Kay started liking Santi. Was it love? No way! She was too old for him, plus she did not have the nerve to be in a relationship. Although she looked forward to let his gloved hand open the door for her, she never talked to him. They just smiled to each other.

One day she found that the collar of his shirt had frayed. Next day when his gloved hand opened the car door, Kay put a crisp white shirt into his hand.


Next day his collar was no more frayed.

******

After a few days she found a small box in the rear seat of the car. The box contained some ethnic jewelry- a bracelet and a picture. In later days Kay learnt that the piece of jewelry was a replica of jewelry worn by Aztec women.

******

She did not see him one day. Then the next day. Then the next day again. She tried his cell phone. It rang for a while before the recorded message told her than “The voicemail for the number dialed has not yet been set up”.


In the evening she asked the Valet, “Where is Santi?”


“I don’t know Ma’m. I haven’t seen him for the last couple of days”, he replied.


“Can you tell him that I was looking for him”, she said and drove off.

******

She had come out of a meeting when Meg, the receptionist at the office buzzed, “Kay, someone is here to see you. He is from the Valet Parking”.

Kay rushed out of the office expecting Santi. However, it was not him. It was one of the other guys. His name was Julio.


“Can we talk for a moment”, he said.


She gestured him to walk into her office.


“Santi is dead. He was killed by the bad guys”.


“The bad guys? Who? Why? Was he running drugs? Was he into any kind of trouble?”


“I don’t know. They say he took a $ 1000 loan from them and did not pay them on the due date”


“What? Why did he take a loan”, she asked. He could have asked her for the loan. $ 1000 wasn’t that big a sum. Why did he have to get into trouble for such a sum?


She had a million questions. But she had no answers.


Julio left.


Kay was sad. She felt grief. But life had to go on. She missed seeing Santi in the valet parking. Sometimes she thought that gloved hand was his when the door was opened. In time she adapted to his absence. She accepted that Santi was no more.

*****

“Your bracelet is beautiful”, the host said.

“Thank you Elizabeth” Kay replied.  She was attending a Sunday luncheon hosted by the Johnsons. It was a casual day and Kay wanted to spend it lazily in a pair of jeans. Finding nothing else to match her lazy looks, he casually picked up the bracelet given to her by Santi and put it on.


As the party ended, she bid the customary goodbyes to her hosts and walked to the door.


“Excuse me”, said a man behind her. He had a mug of beer in his hand. It suited him. He was bald, had a beer belly, and had the looks of a professor.


“Yes”, she replied.


“Hello, I am Professor Delgado. I teach South American History at the University of La Paz”.


“That’s impressive. How can I help you?” Kay smiled to the bald man.


“I was wondering where you got the bracelet”. His eyes were on her hand.


“A friend gave it to me”. How else could she describe Santiago.


“I just want you to know that it may be one of the last ones that survived the Aztecs. There are very few of those around the world. If you notice, it has been restored. I hope you know it is genuine”


When he saw the surprised look on her face, he remarked, “Didn’t you now that? Don’t tell me you did not? Oh God! You might not be interested, but these list on the market for nearly a hundred thousand dollars”.


Kay wanted to tell him that the value made no difference to her.


Then he said the words she never expected, “One of them- a very similar one, disappeared from the National Museum in Panama City. That’s where I had seen it last. Since a very few people in the world have the remaining ones, hold on to it”.


Kay found the man irritating. But his words remained in her mind.


She went home and called the museum. The curator of the museum, a certain Senor Vazquez gave her the description. With every word, Kay’s greatest fears came true. When the man finished talking, Kay collapsed on the ground.

******

A week later, the bracelet was returned to the museum. It came through a personal courier who said that the sender wished to remain anonymous.

Senor Vazquez knew who sent it, but he did not wish to pursue the matter further.

******

Kay died in the winter of 2012. For the record, she died in Santiago, Chile.

P.S. The plot and the characters are all figments of my imagination. Any resemblance to any place or event or person-dead or alive is purely coincidental.