Later in the day, after a sumptuous tea, my mother has a chance to show off
her lovely formal gardens to her honored visitor, and she is pleasantly
surprised that not only does Dr. Quest show genuine interest but he is able to
name many of the varieties and was able to speak with authority on the
subjects of cross-breeding, pollination and natural methods of pesticide.
Race, being a bit of a gardener in his own right, takes a tour of the kitchen
garden to see the fresh okra and other vegetables being grown, and Pasha
waddles beside him, making an impromptu salad as he walks along and munches
his way through the rows. 

	As the adults get to know each other, I show Jonny my bed chamber on one of
the upper floors. "Man o man, Hadj; this place is wild," he laughs as he dive-
bombs his way onto my bed, an act which sends pillows flying into the air and
onto the floor. This is really living, dude! Do you get hot and cold running
harem girls, too?" "Jonny!" I exclaim with suitable astonishment. "I do not
want a horde of mindless females catering to my needs. I am a modern
maharajah. Besides, harems are for Moslem princes and the like; I am a Hindu."
"So who are the babes in the hallway, your highness?" he asks with a cocked
eyebrow. "I saw them come out of here while we were down the hall!" Jonny has
a way of being catty and sly and being very obvious with it as well. "I can
see why you wouldn't want to come home after getting your very own date with
the Goldwyn Girls East!"

	"Who said I did not want to come home?!" I do not mean to sound so angry or
to snap at Jonny, but it just comes out so fast I cannot seem to catch it. "I
never said I did not want to come home! Do you wish me to stay here? Do you
want my side of the room so badly, Jonny?" 

	"Whoa, Hadji! Grab the reigns! I didn't mean anything like that....though I
sure could make use of your side of the bedroom, pal! Just kidding!" he nudges
me and pulls at my crossed arms to pry them apart. "Come on, Hadj, really---I
was just kidding! You...you DO want to come home sooner or later, don'tcha?" 

	" Of COURSE I do, Jonny," I say as I swat at his hands, "of course I want to
come back. This is only a temporary thing. I must give my mother time to know
me, as I need time to get to know her, and I want to discover what my place is
here in Bangalore. But this...all this dressing up and 'ladies-in-waiting' and
all...this is not me! This is not...home. And I miss Bandit and Race and your
father...and you...so very much! I...I do not know how long it will take, but
I will return home soon." 

	"You promise me, pal?" Jonny asks as he throws an arm across my shoulder. "I
do promise you, my friend. Of course I do."

	Jonny and I roam around the balcony area and find a table laden with a large
bowl of fruits from many parts of the world. "Hey, it's breadfruit, Hadj! I
haven't seen this since the last time we were in the South Seas!" "Yes, they
seem to import all sorts of such fruits and vegetables for the tables here."
As we begin to peal oranges imported from China, we both lean over the balcony
and search the gardens below for our parents. It seems strange to say that in
the plural, but for the first time since I was a toddler I have both a mother
and a father, though they are completely unrelated to each other. From our
perch high above them, Jonny and I spy on them laughing and talking; they are
probably sharing those embarrassing tales that children hate to hear about
themselves and that parents love to reminisce about. They seem to be enjoying
each other's company immensely, and as the afternoon quickly passes they
appear to have reached a communion of sorts as far as my welfare is concerned.
Oh how deceptive the adult mind can be, for I am quickly to find the folly in
my judgment as we again join each other for our evening meal. 

	For this repast, my mother has chosen the less formal of several dinning
rooms. It is, of course, tastefully decorated with mosaic tiles, billowing
pillows, southern Indian folk art, traditional icons and a large circular
dinning table planted low to the floor. In this room we eat meals as my people
have for many centuries: no cutlery, the meal beginning with the hand washing
ceremony, seven courses and tea and fresh fruit and pastries to follow, and we
sit on large pillows on the floor. Already I can see my mother's mind working
in her choice of this room, for she is, in her way, preparing to do battle on
the home front. A brilliant tactical move on the part of an experienced
leader. Poor Dr. Quest is about to meet the enemy, and the enemy wears a
stunning white and gold sari and many bedazzling bangles. I could not feel
more sorry for the man if I tried.

	As Jonny and Pasha begin to devour everything within reach, my "mentor" and I
share laughs about the times he taught me the many tricks of the merchant
trade: "the ol' bait and switch," the "buy low, sell high" tactic, and the
"trying to raise this kid with the hollow cheeks" routine, and we reminisce
about the times we literally had to pack up and run in fear of being hauled
into the local precinct for another of Pasha's favorites, something called the
"three card Monte." I remember Race explaining it to me once using another
word: swindle. Pasha always makes Race laugh, and even though I believe Race
is very fond of Pasha, I have never failed to see Race check for his wallet at
any time they were to part. With Pasha, business comes first, with friendship
a distant second. 

	My mother is not the least bit amused by the stories Pasha and I share, and
we finally see the wisdom in keeping our memories to ourselves following
several disapproving glares from her. Eventually the talk turns to Dr. Quest's
visit to the palace.

	"I must admit, your highness," he begins, "that I originally came here with a
mind to retrieving Hadji and returning home with him. I was in shock to come
home to find that Mr. Bannon had left him here in India without my permission,
though I, of course, trust Race's judgment without fail. His story about...all
of this...just seemed so unbelievable. I was frantic, which I'm sure you can
understand." My mother's arched eyebrow is a clear sign to me of some ruffled
feathers beneath that sari of hers. "I see," she says rather coldly, "but of
course now you have come to realize that he IS home at long last, Doctor. It
must be a comfort for you to no longer have the need for such a concern. From
now on he will live the life he was born to lead, as ruler of his people."

	Dr. Quest's eyebrows betray his inner turmoil as they express a series of
thoughts: surprise, shock, sadness, acceptance? I do not see anger, but it is
early yet, and my mother is not finished. "Hadji and I have not had the chance
to fully discuss his future, Doctor, but we will certainly have all the time
in the world to do just that now that he is home. His father would be so
pleased to know that his son's birthright has been bestowed upon him." She
emphasizes "father" in a way which makes Dr. Quest swallow hard and has raised
a few hackles on me as well. 

	"Has...Hadji expressed the interest in staying here...permanently, your
highness?" Dr. Quest asks, following a long pause. His eyes are affixed to
something he's chosen on the table top so as to avoid not only giving away his
feelings but also to dispel any chance of seeing either my reaction or that of
my mother. No need, for Neela would be heard all over the palace, her
indignation peppering every word. 

	"Perhaps I have not made myself, clear, DOCTOR Quest, but THIS is Hadji's
home, so there is no need for him to express a preference! If there is a
question of that, it is in your mind, only."

	"Mother!" I shout, for I will be silent no longer as I find both my feet and
my courage and stand to face her. "We have not discussed this and I do have
something to say about it. Yes, this is my home...homeland, but I have made my
home with Dr. Quest for years now. I...I have never said that I would stay
here permanently! In fact, I said just the opposite! They are my...my
family...and I...I want to go home."

(continued)