Later back in her room, while Sean and Dr. Basu took Colm to the pier, Cathleen sat at the desk gazing at the scribbled address on a faded piece of notebook paper. It was her only evidence of Pierce’s earthly existence besides her son. She could imagine him in his apartment writing down his new address and sending it to her. He sent her a letter just a few months after Colm was born. It was the last time she ever heard from him. He wrote to tell her he was settled in L.A., that he was doing what he set out to do, write and create music, and that he was happy, and hoped the same for her. He never asked about the baby—never asked about her. At first she was too proud. She never wanted to admit that she needed him, that she needed him more than anything in the world. She would never have admitted it. And certainly not in a letter. Instead, as Colm got older and went to school, she sent only brief update letters along with photos and homework and special drawings. All of it was sent back unopened.
What if he wasn’t even here? What if he had moved on? For all she knew he was still busking on the streets of New York. He could be anywhere, she thought. How stupid could I have been? All this time she had been so worried about herself, so worried about her own heart being broken by her son, that she hadn’t spent enough time thinking that it was Colm’s heart she should have been worried about. If Pierce was still at the address, he would get the surprise of his life, she thought. And if he wasn’t, she didn’t know what she would do with Colm. He would never forgive her for taking him all this way without knowing if his father existed at all.
Meanwhile at the pier, Colm and Dr. Basu stepped onto the Ferris wheel while Sean ran to get them all hot dogs and sodas.
“Are you OK, Dr. Basu?” Colm asked. Dr. Basu looked afraid to be on the ride.
“Yes, nothing frightens me, son,” Dr. Basu said as they were pulled back to circle the wheel.
As they moved higher, Colm asked one of the things he always wanted to know. “Dr. Basu, why do you call me son?”
“Oh, I don’t even think about it. In India, older folks call all children their sons or daughters; and all children call the adults aunt or uncle.”
“Why?”
“Because, I suppose, they think of everyone as family.”
“Are you my family, Dr. Basu?”
“Would you like me to be?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, yes, I am your family.”
“My mother loves you, Dr. Basu.”
“She does? How do you know such a thing?” Dr. Basu looked at him, surprised.
“Because sons know what their mamas love. They know it better than anyone.”
The wheel turned faster, sending them soaring over the crest and down again and again as the wind whipped through Colm’s wild hair, making him feel light and free. He lifted his arms from the bar and closed his eyes. Instinctively, Dr. Basu grabbed him out of fear that his small body would slip and fall out of the seat. An overwhelming sense of terror swelled within Dr. Basu, and for the first time on the ride, he realized there would be nothing left for him without Colm. He had not realized how much he had grown to love the boy. How great the love truly was. He could not, he thought, remember a time that Dhruv did not exist, even if he thought he was only a star in the sky now. Hadn’t he been there the entire time? He could not conceive of a moment when Colm would not exist—and the pain that rose up in him when he realized the time was coming soon when he would be alone again without either boy was almost too much to bear. Fear consumed him entirely, and he held tighter still to the boy, as if squeezing him would somehow prevent him from slipping away. He could not lose this son too, he thought. What would the universe do with one more star? Didn’t it have enough? He knew his reasoning sounded foolish and illogical, but while the boy whooped and hollered, enjoying the thrill of the ride, Dr. Basu silently, and at first without his own recognition, began to pray a mantra he had not heard since he’d left India. There he had heard it often, the most common of all his own Niranjana’s mantras, and like Cathleen’s Hail Marys that came to her without thinking, before even fully waking, he said it aloud as he had said it long, long ago.
Asato maa sadgamaya
Tamaso maa jyotirgamaya
Mriyor maa amritan gamaya
Om shaanti shaanti shaanti
From the unreal,
lead us to the Real;
from darkness,
lead us unto Light;
from death, lead us to Immortality.
Om peace, peace, peace
Colm, Colm, Colm, please do not take my Colm.
From the ground, Sean, coming back with an armload of food from the concession stand, looked up and saw Dr. Basu gripping the boy with his eyes closed. Sean laughed, thinking Dr. Basu must have been afraid, after all, of something—he must be terrified. What Sean didn’t know, couldn’t know was that Dr. Basu’s terror and grief were transforming him. With each revolution of the spinning wheel, the steel trap secured tightly around his heart unsnapped. For the first time in a long time, instead of his brain sending messages to his heart, Dr. Basu felt a strange and powerful reverse force as if his heart were beating furiously, rapidly, sending message after message to his brain—messages that had been locked in time, trapped somewhere deep within. At last there was interconnectivity. His heart and brain were functioning together, no longer moving and circulating as separate entities. All this time he had been explaining it to his patients, to Cathleen, to Sean, to Colm: The heart and brain are interdependent. They cannot exist without each other. Suddenly he remembered something he believed his brain had not let his heart believe since that awful day. Someone, far away, someone high above him loved him. Loved him enough to send him a son like Dhruv and another like Colm. Someone loved him enough to recognize this love and give him this mantra, this prayer that would sustain him. And he said it rapidly, as quickly as he could again and again, until he felt the wheel slowing and could hear Sean’s voice. “Hang in there, Dr. Basu, It’s almost over!”
Then Sean spotted Colm. He looked to him like he was at home at the edge of the earth, just ready to take flight, while Dr. Basu was clinging to him for dear life.
“Poor bastard,” Sean said as he laughed. “Hang on! Just hang on, my man! You’ve made it, buddy! You did it! Good for you!” Sean encouraged as the ride came to a halt.