The film students arrived the day after the disappointing meeting with Meena. Two men and a woman joined them. Bleary-eyed and semi-catatonic, the British newcomers showed Olivia what she must have looked like her first week. And the lack of power didn’t exactly sit well with the exhausted group. Olivia missed their names, distracted by the mesmerizing blue eyes of one of the two guys. Tall and lanky, with a shock of dark and unruly hair and day-old stubble, he set her pulse racing. Startled and embarrassed, she mumbled a greeting and looked away.
“No shower? Oi!” the other guy muttered as he trudged behind Chris on the way to his room.
Aubra’s friend, Emma, managed a weak smile during introductions but also seemed dismayed by the current state of affairs. “I won’t lie. I was rather looking forward to washing off the trip in a hot shower.”
“I’m so sorry!” Aubra said.
“What were the guys’ names again?” Olivia asked Emma as they crossed the courtyard. “I didn’t catch them.”
“The taller one is Noah, and the other one is Jack,” Emma told her.
She was glad Emma didn’t refer to Noah as the one with the dreamy eyes. That was how she thought of him, although he was indeed taller than Jack.
The men’s dorm had filled with the additions, and Aubra appeared delighted to share her room with her old college friend. Mrs. Gupta had no problem allowing them to use the guest house, particularly when they offered to pay for room and board. But the spotlight they would shine on her little school with their documentary didn’t hurt either.
Once they settled Emma’s luggage into Aubra’s room, they congregated back in the dining room, chatting about the town and assuring Emma they’d take her to the market later that evening.
“Chin up,” Aubra told her. “The power has to come back sometime. And it’s been out for days, so surely any time now.”
Chris brought Noah and Jack down to join them. “Hey, guys! Noah wants to go ahead and start recording.”
“What, just like that? Right now?” Delilah asked.
Noah held a camera in each hand and passed one to Emma. “We’re here to make a documentary, and it’s not like we can do anything else right now. Chris here says dinner won’t be for an hour. Let’s get a look at the location. Get shots of the machine in the crates before it’s installed. Where’s the man? The guy who made the machine?”
“I’ll get him!” Chris volunteered and ran back upstairs.
“Which one of you bought the machine and started this project?” Noah asked.
Olivia sat up straight, butterflies quivering in her stomach. “I did.”
His gaze pierced her own, seeming to delve into her very core. “Awesome. We need to interview you. You’ll be the star of this thing, along with the man.”
“Mukesh,” she told him. “His name is Mukesh.”
“And here I am,” he said, following Chris into the dining room and taking them in. “We have become quite a big group.”
Chris surveyed them all. “Yeah, too many to all squeeze into the car.”
“It’s okay,” Olivia said. “I’ve been there enough that I remember the way. I can walk.”
“I’d love to come along and see the process,” Tisha said. “I won’t get in the way.”
“Sure!” Seeing her friends get excited about the project added a new element. And she could use all the help she could get. “And anyone else who wants to come.”
“We don’t have anything else to do,” Melanie said. “I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.”
“I wouldn’t miss seeing a documentary get started for anything,” Delilah said.
“Okay, so should I drive the film people or . . .” Chris looked to her for guidance.
“If they want a ride.” She glanced at Noah, trying not to notice how freaking hot he was.
“If . . . I’m sorry, what was your name?” Noah asked.
“Olivia.”
He grinned at her. “Really? My mum once told me she almost named me Oliver. Wouldn’t that have been something?”
The grin and the warmth in his eyes sent her insides squirming. What was she supposed to do with this? Okay, so she wasn’t married and wasn’t doing anything wrong, but she couldn’t seem to convince herself of that. Her thumb drifted to her empty ring finger again. According to her mom, Scott had moved on and was seeing someone else, so why did she feel like she flirted with cheating? Everyone stared at her while she gaped at Noah like a fool. She forced a laugh. “Yes. That’s so funny.” Funny? It wasn’t funny. What was wrong with her?
“Anyway, that will be easy to remember. If Olivia is walking, we should walk with her. We can interview her while we walk. Jack, get some shots of the town. We can set the background and then open with Olivia telling her story and what prompted her to do this.”
“Got it,” Jack said through a huge yawn.
Mukesh stuck his head into the kitchen, alerted Ms. Vanya of their intended destination, and assured her they’d be back for dinner. Then the entire group headed off on foot. Noah directed Emma and Jack where to point their cameras, describing his vision for the beginning, even down to the type of background music he planned to accompany the opening shots.
“We need to set the mood as well as the lay of the land before we dive into the project itself,” he said. “Establish the significance right away. Then people will see why this will make such a huge difference.”
Olivia’s cheeks warmed at the sound of the praise. “I genuinely hope you’re right, that this eventually makes a difference in the women’s lives.”
Noah pointed his camera lens at her. “Meet Olivia, the woman who started this entire project. The one whose soul stirred at the plight of the women and girls of this community. So much so that she stood up and said, ‘Enough is enough,’ and decided to do something about it.”
Too much. Way too much. His words caused her face to warm for an entirely different reason. “I wouldn’t really describe myself that way—”
“And how would you describe yourself?”
She thought for a moment. “I’m just a regular person. Nothing special. But trying to do something good.”
“Nothing special?” Noah repeated. “I doubt anyone else sees you that way, Olivia.”
She started to offer to make a list of names for him, beginning with her ex-husband, but Chris jostled through the conglomeration to get to her side. “I’ve been telling her that.”
“And you are?” Noah asked, clearly for the benefit of the documentary, since he already knew him.
“Another of the teachers. But I recognized how amazing Olivia is the day I met her. And she’s been proving it to me ever since. None of us ever considered doing something like this. We teachers came to make a difference, to help the children and perhaps open the door to a better future. But she’s taking it a step further, and I believe the impact will be even greater thanks to her.”
Completely taken aback, Olivia couldn’t say another word. This was too much. Suddenly, the documentary seemed like a terrible idea. She expected Mukesh to do most of the talking. He was the main story here. She tried to correct the mistake. “Mukesh is the one you want to focus on. He invented the machine, spent years of his life developing it, and sacrificed a lot to do it. You should ask him his story.”
Noah swung his camera to Mukesh and introduced him while they walked. Good. Mukesh was funnier and much better at this sort of thing. She would gladly remain in the background, a side note, but nothing more.
At the location, all the cameras took in the little building and the many crates of unopened equipment sitting outside it. She unlocked the door and let them in. “We’re working on freshening it up,” she assured them, “and we will eventually paint it. I know it’s small, but it’ll look nice when we’re done. We’ve just been working around our teaching schedules, which limits the time we can do it.”
“You could pay someone,” Noah suggested. “Labor is cheap here. But the money would be a lot to someone local, wouldn’t it?”
“Actually, that’s a good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” She beamed at Noah.
He returned her smile with his own. “I took some international business classes. I know a thing or two.”
“I was going to help paint,” Chris reminded her. “We all were.” He seemed a little off, and she couldn’t figure out why.
“Noah’s right, though. Hiring someone local to do it means it will be finished much faster. I think that’s the way to go.”
Chris’s brow furrowed.
“Don’t sweat it, mate,” Jack said. “Painting’s not as fun as it’s cracked up to be. Let someone else do it.”
“But that will cost her even more money. We were trying to keep costs low.”
“If it turns out to be too much, we won’t hire someone,” she assured Chris. “But I can at least check into it.”
“You’re not someone wealthy looking for a cause, then?” Noah asked.
“She’s not. She’s working extra jobs and drawing from her own limited funds,” Chris said.
Noah brought the camera back to her. “Still believe you’re nothing special?”
The power outage resolved the next day. Olivia wasn’t sure which she was more excited about: finally being able to take a hot shower again or that Mukesh could install the pad machine. He’d found several local men willing to help with the heavy lifting. Mukesh would assemble the pieces himself. Not thinking, she’d asked if he was sure he didn’t need an electrician or something to hook it up.
“Madam, I made machine. I know how to put the pieces together.”
“Oh, my gosh! I’m so dumb!” She shook her head and laughed with the others at her goof.
“It’s difficult for us to comprehend that,” Aubra said. “Back home I struggle to operate the microwave sometimes. I definitely couldn’t design and build a whole machine.”
“And I can’t even boil water,” Delilah drawled.
Everyone laughed again.
“We think you’re amazing, Mukesh,” Melanie said, in case their jokes got lost in translation. “Really. To just think up an idea to fix a problem and then gather parts and put it together.”
“It’s pretty awesome,” Chris agreed. “But I’m super disappointed I won’t be there to help. I planned to set it up with you.”
Olivia felt exactly the same way. “Me too. But classes must go on. Especially after losing power for a week. I’m so far behind, my anxiety is through the roof.”
“And Diwali is creeping closer,” Melanie reminded them. “We definitely want to make those clay diyas. What if we lose power on Diwali? None of our string lights would work.”
“That would be awful. Okay, to the market for clay and battery-operated tea lights as soon as we can.”
Noah, Jack, and Emma, with no teaching responsibilities, had joined them in the courtyard, ready to accompany Mukesh and capture the entire process.
“Don’t worry,” Noah said. “We’ll get it. You’ll be able to watch over and over again. And so will the rest of the world if our documentary wins attention on the awards circuit and gets picked up for distribution.”
“It’s not the same,” Chris muttered under his breath.
“No, it’s not,” she agreed quietly.
He glanced up, startled maybe that someone had heard him. Or perhaps that she agreed.
A taxi honked from the street, Mukesh and the film crew piled in, and the teachers waved them away.
“Don’t forget to ask Mukesh why he built the machine to begin with,” she called after them.
The world? Noah’s last line sunk into her brain, where she slowly digested it. “Aubra, you said this documentary is a final project for film school.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he talking about awards circuits and distribution?”
“Noah’s good. Really good. He submitted last year but his subject matter wasn’t deemed far-reaching or powerful enough. At least that’s what he told me. When I told him about your machine, he flipped out. Said it’s just what he’s been waiting for. He planned to turn down my idea of focusing on the school and trying to break the poverty cycle. Too similar to his homeless crisis theme last year. That’s why I blew up at you over dinner. I took it personally. First Chris liked you better, now Noah.”
Olivia spluttered as her misfiring brain attempted to form a cohesive reply. “I don’t . . . they don’t . . .”
Aubra held up a hand. “I know.”
“Besides, I’m hoping to break the poverty cycle too.”
“But women’s issues, the millions of women around the world who could benefit from this machine, that’s sure to garner far more attention.”
“See? It isn’t me Noah likes. It’s the machine Mukesh designed and how it will help Noah.”
Aubra seemed to miss the point she was making and nodded emphatically. “And shining a light on the idea will only help Mukesh in return. Imagine if this documentary does get picked up for distribution. People all over the world will see what you did and how many lives you improved. It could very well inspire others to do the same.”
Olivia fell silent. She didn’t want attention, didn’t want to be seen by people all over the world. She had reached out to Mukesh to help the girls in her classes and the women of this town, not to “garner attention.” But, if Aubra was correct, and Noah’s documentary project truly brought worldwide attention to the plight of these rural women, and millions more like them, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
They’d arrived at the school building and hurried inside so they wouldn’t be late for the first class session of the day. Her mind wandered incessantly all day, imagining Aditi and Surithra and all the other girls back in their empty chairs—and wondering how much longer the remaining girls had before they, too, were yanked from school.
Finally, the day ended. She hurried to drop her teaching materials in her room, wondering if Chris might agree to drive her or if she would have to walk. She couldn’t wait to see if Mukesh managed to set everything up.
She headed to the courtyard, hoping Chris would hear her if she called up the stairs to him, since she couldn’t go inside the men’s dorm. But she didn’t have to go inside at all. He waited for her in the courtyard and jangled keys when he saw her. “We’ll get there faster if we drive.”
Of course he was there. Somehow, he always managed to anticipate her intentions and know exactly the best way to help. Relief and gratitude suffused her, a warm flush that lifted her spirits and lifted her lips in a wide smile. “Yes, please. I was hoping you would.”
His eyes glowed with delight. “Happy to help.”
The other teachers spilled from the dorm, arms emptied of classroom materials.
“We want to go!” Melanie called.
“Don’t you dare go without us,” Delilah said.
“Come on, girl,” Tisha said. “We’re invested in this now. Maybe we can help.”
“And I want to see Noah,” Aubra said.
Olivia shook her head at how radically Aubra’s mercurial emotions swung from one end of the spectrum to another. The young woman had been friendlier while anticipating Noah’s arrival. Now that he was here, she seemed to have completely forgotten her initial jealousy over Chris. And forgotten Chris. Which Olivia found she didn’t mind at all.
They piled in and pulled up to the cinderblock wall in no time. Olivia led the way to the gap-in-the-wall entrance but stopped in her tracks, so suddenly the others bumped into her.
“What’s wrong?” Chris asked.
She recovered her wits but remained confused as she continued through to the building. “Nothing is wrong. It’s just . . . the building is painted. I wasn’t expecting that.”
In fact, as they approached she saw several men still running brushes up and down the final exterior wall. They stared at her but didn’t say a thing as she went inside.
Mukesh squatted in front of a metal machine, his head and shoulders twisted underneath.
“Hey, hey!” Noah greeted them. “Just in time. We’re about to flip the switch and fire it up.”
We’re? The only equipment he and his crew appeared to care about were their cameras. She would bet money he hadn’t lifted a finger all day. She looked around, noting the interior had been painted flat white and the floors were freshly swept.
“The building . . .”
His mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. He appeared quite pleased with himself. “Yeah?”
“It’s cleaned and painted.”
He finally dragged his attention away from the view screen of his camera. And winked at her. “You’re welcome, love.”
Love? Who did this guy—
Aubra stepped in front of her. “But how, Noah?”
“After they uncrated these things and put them where the big guy told them to, I offered to pay them to paint. I wanted blue—”
“Pink or red would have been more appropriate,” Tisha said.
“—but the big guy insisted you told him you wanted yellow.”
“Yes. Yellow. A bright, happy color. You paid them?”
“From my budget. It’s cool. You don’t owe me anything. Helps speed things along, but also gives the appearance of time passing. We have funds but not unlimited, so we can’t dally. Our time here isn’t open-ended.”
“Good,” Chris muttered.
She agreed but kept her mouth shut. A piece of her—a big piece—didn’t appreciate Noah hijacking her plans. And frankly, he was starting to irritate her. But she set aside her bruised feelings and frustrations in light of the bigger picture—the building looked great, the machine was installed, and they were nearly ready to begin.
Mukesh extricated himself, stood and brushed off. He lifted a hand and nodded to her. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He flipped a switch. The machine whirred and hummed.
It worked. Now she needed women to work it.