Billionaire's Curvy Bet Page 4
Ingram shakes his head. “I already had some of my guys do that. They say everything traces back to some cloud server farm in India—which is where pretty much all world’s data is stored nowadays. That location is meaningless. Mother and Father could be anywhere on the fucking planet. Where do we even start to look?”
I sigh as I feel Ingram let go of my wrist. That warm, almost magical moment is gone, and I touch my hair and sigh again as Janelle and James’s behavior brings me back down to earth. Now I’m analyzing again, and the conclusion is that they’re doing the logical thing. Maybe we’re all doing the logical thing by going after Mother and Father instead of looking within ourselves for the answer.
I almost slip back into the safety of my analytical mind, but just before I give in to “common sense,” Ingram slides his arm around my waist and gently pulls me close. He’s looking at me like he wants to go, to leave these two to their own game, their own journey. We have our own journey to complete, and a thrilling sense of adventure lights me up from the inside when I realize how darned excited I am to be stepping out into the unknown realm of not being rich, not being wealthy, not being . . . alone.
Never being alone again.
I love this feeling, I say with my eyes as my body tingles from being so close to Ingram. I never want to lose this feeling. Not now that I have a glimpse into what togetherness might feel like. I might be wrong, but it’s worth taking the chance on something that feels this wonderful even when the material world is crumbling like a house of breadsticks.
My smile fades a little when I see the big, orange-red sun sinking lower in the sky, and I feel a tug inside as I sense the clock ticking. But it’s not anxiety or panic that’s pulling at me. It’s an understanding of myself that’s creating the need to seal this deal by the deadline. There’s a feeling that if Ingram and I don’t do this under the pressure of the deadline, we might never do it. If Mother and Father gave us a week or a month or a year to “get to know each other” or some shit, we might fall back to the familiar old thoughts and habits that kept us locked up in our private worlds of wealth, power, and loneliness. Somehow Mother and Father knew they had to put us in a high-pressure situation with so many winding loops and hairpin turns that our intelligence gets exhausted and we simply surrender to our feelings, surrender to our emotions, surrender to each other. They understood that sometimes too much choice, too much freedom, too much analysis about an ideal mate can be counterproductive. As a society we’ve put the intelligence of the brain on a pedestal and ignored the wisdom of the heart, and maybe Mother and Father want to remind us that the heart rules matters of love and marriage, just like it secretly has for thousands of years, even when all marriages were arranged.
After all, many arranged marriages weren’t forced marriages. Most families arranged a meeting and let the boy and girl see each other, look into one another’s eyes, sense the rhythms of their breathing, the synchronicity of their hearts. In a way a lot of arranged marriages were love-at-first-sight marriages, weren’t they? Is that what Mother and Father are getting at with these deadlines and red herrings and teases of danger and darkness? Just trying to get us out of our own heads, break us out of our routines, make us see that wealth and power and freedom comes not from an overflowing bank account but an overflowing heart?
Just then Ingram squeezes me gently around the waist, and I know instinctively his mind just met my mind in that silent world of thoughts and feelings. Our hearts just met in that secret world that hides beneath the humdrum of everyday life. And those hearts are so full they’re overflowing. I feel it like a flood in my soul, a wave in my energy, a splash in my spirit.
Ingram and I slowly move toward the door. We haven’t said a word, and Janelle and James are on the computer looking something up. There’s no reason to be stealthy about it, but I’m getting a kick out of sneaking out. More than just a kick, though. There’s also an undercurrent of danger that started when I saw Janelle’s sinister expression earlier today and got stronger when I saw that James has the same dark edge to his energy. It doesn’t seem like they’re going to marry each other before sunrise. They aren’t even close to looking inside themselves and facing whatever beliefs Mother and Father want them to face. They’re focused on solving the problem in the external world, and that could be dangerous. Is it possible that these two together might consider doing something that either of them alone would never do?
“Let’s do it,” comes Janelle’s voice in a sharp whisper, and I whip around in panic, all jumpy from that last thought. I notice that both she and James are checking their phones now, and I seem to remember hearing twin beeps of messages coming in just a second ago. Did Mother and Father just text James and Janelle? What did they say? Why aren’t James and Janelle telling us?
Janelle finishes talking to James under her breath, and when she turns to us she’s smiling. “Hey, India, remember when we were talking about the Society maybe having its roots in . . . India?”
I frown as I think back. “Yeah, but now I’m not sure why I thought of that—maybe it’s the spiritual undertones of all this that made me think of India.”
“Maybe it’s your name,” says Ingram. “Are you Indian?”
I shrug. “Don’t know. I was adopted, remember? Oops. Sorry. Forgot we don’t know each other that well yet.”
Ingram frowns. “You were adopted? Huh. Me too.”
I blink and glance over at Janelle. Then I turn to James. “Um, by any chance . . . were you also . . .”
James looks up and nods. “Yeah. I was adopted too. What about it?”
“I . . . we . . . we don’t know yet,” I stammer. “But right now it looks like all of us were adopted. You think it’s weird that we’re all adopted kids being messed with by some mysterious couple called Mother and Father?”
“Weirder than anything else in this whole thing?” says Ingram with a grin. “Sure. Now can we go before the sun sets and we get struck down by lightning bolts from the clouds.”
“You guys aren’t going anywhere,” James says, striding to the door and standing in front of it like a guardian from one of those old temples.
“Actually they are,” says Janelle, standing next to James and completing the picture. “But they’re going with us.” She turns to James. “Your jet or mine?”
“Where . . . where are we going?” I say uneasily as Ingram holds me closer to his body.
“India,” says James like it’s obvious even though it’s totally not.
“Why?” says Ingram with a frown. “Did you get a lead on something?”
“Something like that, yeah,” says James, glancing over at Janelle and then back at us. “Shall we?”
I place my hand on Ingram’s forearm as I think. There’ve been a few links to India in all this—one link being my name, I guess. Again I glance at the setting sun, and now it occurs to me that flying to India would be a nonstarter.
“That’s a fifteen-hour flight,” I say. “We’d all miss our deadlines. Unless you’re planning to murder us during the in-flight movie.”
James grins and shakes his head. “International Date Line,” he says triumphantly. “We fly west over the Pacific Ocean. Then we cross the International Date Line, skip a day, and reset the clock on our deadlines.”
“That doesn’t work for us, bro,” says Ingram with a snort. “We’d need a supersonic jet to get to the International Date Line before the sun sets on America—assuming that’s the loophole you’re thinking about.”
“He wasn’t thinking about sunset,” I whisper. “That’s our deadline, not his. Their deadline is sunrise, and the whole International Date Line thing might work for them.”
We all go quiet, and suddenly I know both Ingram and I are imagining being killed in International Airspace, our bodies dropped into the Pacific Ocean. It’s ridiculous, of course. But I can’t shake the feeling that although James and Janelle on their own aren’t killers, there’s something about these two together that worries me.
I look up at Ingram and wonder if this is the first and last day we’ll have together, and when he locks in on me I see the same thought behind those burning green eyes. And now I wonder what I’d want to do if tonight is all we had. Can we live so completely in the moment that it doesn’t matter what happens tomorrow? Can we let go of not just our attachment to money but also our attachment to life itself? Can we truly surrender to the belief that love is eternal, beyond life and death? That love is truly forever?
“It’s not a lifetime membership but a forever membership,” I whisper. Then I turn to Ingram and look at him like there’s no one else in the room. “What would you do if tonight is all we had? If our forever ended at sunrise?”
Ingram frowns as a shadow passes across his face. “What are you talking about, India? These guys aren’t gonna—”
“That’s not what I mean,” I say as the sun hits the horizon and starts to dip. “This isn’t about James and Janelle. This is about us, our game, our life, our forever. And our choices. Look, Ingram.”
I turn to face the picture window, and the two of us are bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. I feel Ingram’s tension as the deadline looms, but I’ve let go. I’m at peace. I know this is what Mother and Father wanted to teach us: How to let go of ourselves, leave the past behind, step into the future on our terms, just the two of us.
“Ask me your question now, Ingram,” I whisper as the sun dips halfway beneath the horizon. “I’ll win you your bet. I’ll do it for you.”
Ingram’s breath catches as he turns to me and smiles. Then he shakes his head, smiles wider, and pulls me into his body. We watch the sun sink below the horizon, and in that moment I know we both made the winning choice. We’re so satisfied in the present moment, this perfect point between day and night, past and future, always and forever, that we’ve shed all attachments to the material world, including the attachment to life. We’re pure spirit in this moment. Pure energy. Pure love.
And as the sky glows red like an apple in the Garden of Eden, Ingram leans close and with his eyes asks the question. I answer with my smile, and in silent synchronicity we exchange our Society rings with the clouds as our witnesses.
Then, as twilight casts its shadow across our forever, he kisses me.
By God, he kisses me.
6
INGRAM
I see myself kissing her like I’m floating on those gold-lined clouds, and it’s a moment that almost makes me believe in the reality of the spirit, that maybe there is something beneath the surface of life, something we can’t see but can sometimes feel with the right person.
“This feels so right, India,” I whisper as I break from the kiss and then go right back into her. This time I’m completely in my body, and the sensations rolling through me are so strong I have to fight to stay on my damned feet. “I feel so free, like I can suddenly see that our love exists in the eternal, that we’ve always been in love, will always be in love, that life and death can’t change that. This moment feels so complete that I’ve lived more fully in one sunset that I have in every other event of my lonely life.”
“Me too, Ingram,” she whispers back. “I think that’s where Mother and Father were leading us. They were trying to get us to strip away all attachments and face each other as naked souls.”
I grin as my body serves up a tasty image of my wife’s naked soul, with curves that would make angels blush and turn demons green with envy. I kiss her again as I tell myself that she’s my wife now, that we’re married—and we did it on our own terms. India’s right: We didn’t have to prove anything to Mother and Father; we had to prove something to ourselves. And we did, didn’t we?
“You think they’ve forgotten where they are?” comes James’s voice from the background of my blissful dream. But even the rude interruption can’t piss me off now, and I squeeze my curvy bride’s side, kiss her deep and hard, and then slide my arm around her waist as we turn to face Janelle and James.
“Oh, you guys are still here,” I say with an over-the-top groan.
“And you guys are . . . married?” Janelle says, closing one eye and tilting her head as she looks at India. “Is that gonna work for the game?”
“But they did it after sunset,” says James, rubbing his jaw and grimacing. “I think that means they both lose. So what does that mean for us?”
Neither India nor I say a word. It’s too hard to explain. James and Janelle are just starting their game, and they have no idea what kind of journey Mother and Father have planned for their fated butts. All I know is it’s gonna have a touch of darkness to it.
A part of me considers just busting our way out of here and leaving James and Janelle to find their own way to forever. But another part of me senses that our story isn’t quite wrapped up. Maybe I’m getting suckered into the weird coincidences and eerie synchronicities and those feelings of transcendental love, but if the next stop on this magical trip is India, I kinda feel like there’s something there for a woman named India . . .
“I call window seat,” says India like she just made the same decision.
I sigh and then nod at James. “All right,” I say. “But I’ll mix my own drinks, and you two are sitting where I can see you.”
Janelle and James both laugh, but the laughs have a nervous energy to them. I know James well enough to feel reasonably certain he wouldn’t murder someone for any amount of money—and certainly not just to stay single, if that’s the condition. I believe that about Janelle too—after all, she and India appear to have stayed friends for years. But these two together give off a different vibe, and although I can’t put my finger on it, I suspect that’s the reason Mother and Father put them together. There’s something about their combined darkness that they need to resolve, and maybe that resolution lies somewhere in the ancient spiritual land of India.
Though India is now the data-center and cloud-computing capital of the world, I remind myself with a chuckle as we head for the door. “You guys know that India is a massive country with two billion people,” I say to James as we wait for the elevator. “Why the hell do you think we’ll find any answers there? All we have is a few text headers that traced back to a computer server in India. Is that all we have to go on?”
“They both got new simultaneous messages from Mother and Father earlier,” India says, narrowing her eyes and flashing a knowing smile at Janelle. “You did, didn’t you?”
James and Janelle glance at each other, and then Janelle sighs. James takes a breath and clears his throat. “You guys remember when I yelled into the phone earlier?”
I grin. “Mommy and Daddy be very afraid!” I say in a squeaky voice.
“Exactly,” says James, biting his lip in embarrassment at the memory of how he lost his cool. “And clearly Mommy and Daddy are not very afraid.” He taps his phone and holds it up for us:
We’re waiting at home for you. Don’t you dare come empty-handed, though. Bring the entire family. Dead or alive. Love, Mother and Father.
India and I stare at the message and the attached GPS coordinates that pinpoint a location in India. Then we stare at James and Janelle. They both look mortified, totally ashamed that they hid the message from us. I’m not sure if their reaction is reason to relax or be even more vigilant. On one hand, it’s a relief to see that they aren’t stone killers. But the fact that they look so ashamed means that they may have actually considered the possibility of bringing us to the family reunion in body-bags.
“Chill,” says James with a smile. “They said dead or alive, and alive is way easier for all of us.”
I counter with my own grin. “Yeah, but if we show up alive, does it mean you guys lo
st the game?”
“You had to have considered that possibility, Janelle,” India says from right next to me. “Remember, your game is only just beginning. Mother and Father seem to be designing each game specifically for the players, to get them to face their own beliefs, to help them break free of those beliefs.”
“Not all of us are head-in-the-clouds spiritualists like you seem to have suddenly become,” Janelle snaps. She taps her foot and clicks the elevator call button like an impatient child.
“And you seem to have suddenly become a complete materialist,” India snaps back. “You aren’t even considering the possibility of opening your heart to the man Mother and Father believe is your match.”
I join my wife in the shouting contest, glaring at James as I let him have it. “And you’re no better, James. To hell with playing this game. We already know how it ends. Instead of hoarding bags of money and chasing clues across the world, just take a minute and look at each other. The answer’s right here, buddy.”
James shoots me a sneer and then snorts. “The fanaticism of the recent convert,” he say, sighing and shaking his head like he pities me. “It’s great that you think you’re in love and that your little ring-exchange in front of the sun is the greatest moment of your life, but tomorrow you’re gonna wake up broke with a woman you barely know and you’re gonna feel like the world’s biggest idiot. She’s no different from every other woman in your past, you dumb fuck. You’re just another stupid—”
But he can’t finish the sentence because I finish it for him with my right fist. I swing lightning quick, my anger rising so fast I can’t stop myself. I get him square on the jaw, and although he’s a big guy, I’m built like a tank and he staggers back.
Just then the elevator arrives with a ding, and when the doors open I kick James in the chest, sending him flying into the back of the elevator. Almost immediately India shoves Janelle past the elevator doors, and Janelle screams as she slams into the woozy James, taking him down to the floor with her momentum.