There are No Peeping Toms Here
A short mystery story of a traveler
“There are no peeping Toms here, south Goa is safe,” Joseph said.
Indira tried to put on her most confident smile as she waited for the manager of the Cozy resort, Joseph to leave.
Why did he say that? I didn’t ask anything, she thought.
Joseph had just shown her the beach hut. Indira liked the thatched roof of the hut made of hay-colored bamboo weaves, sitting on loosely woven bamboo walls of the hut. The hut sat on a raised platform, with stairs leading to its door.
She turned to see the gap between the top of the door and the roof of the hut. A gecko hung out by the gap, making a clicking sound.
“This hut is perfectly sized for one person,” Joseph said.
Indira nodded her head in affirmation.
“Is this your first time in Goa?” Joseph asked
“ No, first time since the pandemic”.
“ Ah, okay. It’s almost the end of the tourist season in Goa, very few places are open. Some of the huts at Cozy are occupied though.”
“ Hmm. Thanks for showing me the hut. I’ll freshen up and come down to the beach restaurant for some dinner.”
Indira yawned as she felt a strong urge to take a shower come over her. As the cool water from the shower ran over her tired, sweat-laden body, she looked forward to her short break.
Indira felt the caress of the powdery white sand against her toes as she held her sweating glass of screwdriver. A lone candle burnt at her little table. There was no electricity, one of the routine power cuts that happened almost every night in the area, she was informed.
The near-full-moon flooded the atmosphere with its silvery glow, it made the Cozy beach restaurant and the huts behind look like part of a lost world.
She had been sitting there for the last hour, alone, looking at the full-moon night and the sea. There were a few groups of men around her. Some stared. Indira regretted her choice of clothing for the night; a white dress with a plunging v-neckline and a flowy silhouette that grazed her hour-glass figure.
There were two women that she spotted, who had come with friends. She had developed a habit of spotting women travelers, especially the solo ones, from years of solo travel during her yesteryears of singlehood.
Indira was about to dig into the juicy, pan-fried Kingfish when a man from one of the groups came up to her. He had been glancing in her direction curiously.
“Do you have a lighter?” he asked.
Indira opened her mouth and then closed it. She drew in a deep breath.
“No,” she said, “I don’t smoke.”
The man looked disappointed. He slowly walked away. His big body moved in a conscious display, his arms didn’t touch the sides of his body.
Indira worked her way through the fish, savoring its lemony, buttery flavors, trying to distract herself. She thought of all that she had lost to the pandemic; an uncle, a job, some self-confidence.
The balmy breeze from the sea made her eyes feel droopy, she craved sleep.
Right when she was about to leave the restaurant, she saw two Buddhist Lamas in maroon robes walk across the beach. One was a lot taller than the other. The taller one half smiled at her.
She watched them with anticipation but they walked past her without saying anything.
She had never seen Lamas on the beach before. They must be here for some convention, she thought.
She tried to scream but nothing came out. She didn’t have much time, she had to get out of bed fast.
It was the middle of the night. There was a man trying to enter her room through the wide gap between the top of the door and the roof of her hut.
“Why can’t I scream? I must be in a dream.” She grabbed the sheets of her bed; that should help her get back to reality. She tried to scream again. Nothing. She must still be in the dream. She finally heard her scream. Relief. She sat up.
She was alone in the room. It was 4.30 AM.
She lay in her bed listening to her pounding heart but determined to go back to sleep. She didn’t want to miss out on the luxury of sleep on her short vacation; a rare commodity with a one-year-old toddler back home.
Her husband had insisted she took this solo break like in her pre-baby days. “It would do you a world of good” he had said.
After spending the next few hours in and out of sleeping and waking states, she decided to freshen up and take a dip in the sea.
She went to the bathroom and looked for the soap. It was missing. She looked around on the floor, in the crevices between the bamboo walls and the floor but couldn’t find it.
Did she keep it somewhere else outside the bathroom? That’s impossible. Did someone play a prank while she went out for dinner? She took a deep breath.
She flirted with the idea of checking out from her stay sooner than planned.
She stopped by the reception before heading out for a swim in the ocean and requested a room cleaning. She asked for another soap.
She considered reporting the missing soap but decided against it thinking she would be labeled as a nut case. Why would someone steal a soap? All her valuables were intact.
She spent the entire day in and out of the sea, looking at the dancing sunlight on the waves, enjoying cool drinks at the few other beach restaurants that were open.
The light and warmth of the day washed away the fear and chills of the night before. She was going to stay at Cozy for the night.
At dinner, she watched a boisterous group of Japanese men sharing laughs over drinks, not far from her table at the Cozy restaurant. They seemed to be having the time of their life.
She felt light for a while and sipped on her second cocktail for the evening. “Ah, it feels like a vacation,” she thought.
She opened the door of her hut and stepped in. The air felt different. The white dress that she had left on the chair was missing. She loved that dress.
She rummaged through her little rucksack, the wardrobe, her bed, to no avail. Not knowing what to do, she sat on her bed. She scrolled through her phone for easy distraction.
She stopped at a Facebook post from one of her college friends that read ” Missing person in Goa”. There was a photo of a man in his late twenties. Her stomach turned. Did the photo look somewhat like the man she dreamt of last night?
She dialed her husband, no answer. It was midnight, he must be asleep.
She lost track of time.
The cocktails were making her drowsy. She was jolted from her drowsiness by loud footsteps right outside her hut. They came up the stairs leading to the door and went down again. Once, twice, thrice, she counted.
She considered her options and decided to stay put in bed. She pulled out the pepper spray from her purse by the bedside. The footsteps came and went, louder each time.
It was daybreak soon.
Indira arrived at the reception, packed and ready to leave. Joseph smiled at her, squinting a little at the morning sun.
“ Leaving so early?” he asked.
“ Yes, change of plans. My white dress went missing from the hut last night” she said. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning over the reception counter.
Joseph looked surprised.” Let me call the cleaning guy. He is new.”
“Does that matter?”
Joseph looked away. After a brief chat in Konkani, a language Indira didn’t understand, Joseph flashed his white teeth.
“ He accidentally picked it with the white towels lying next to it and washed them, The dress is clean and fresh now at no extra charges.”
She felt the lines on her forehead relax despite the annoyance she felt. “Okay,” she said.
“The soap went missing from the bathroom, twice. The last time was right before I left the room.” She said.
“Did you close the soap case that we provided?”
“No, was I supposed to?”
“Umm.. sort of. I must have forgotten to tell you. Sometimes the rats like to play with the soap. They take them from place to place.”
“Rats? Really?”
“The jungle is right behind the huts, and the walls are far from air-tight. Despite our best efforts geckos, squirrels, and sometimes rats come in. They tend to be playful. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Indira’s mind was busy taking notes on what type of accommodation not to book, no matter how beautiful and raw the experience looked, on the internet.
She sat down for breakfast. One of the Japanese tourists came up to her.
“I hope we didn’t disturb you last night,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“ What…do you mean?”
“ Some in our group had a bit too much to drink last night and started a stair climbing competition in one of the huts. I think it was next to yours.”
“So that was you last night?”. Indira smiled for the first time since morning.
“No not me, one of my friends.” The guy’s cheeks looked a little red.
“Not a problem, I slept like a baby,” she said.
The guy left.
As she was paying her bills at the reception she saw the lamas from the first day come up to her.
“How are you feeling today?” the taller lama addressed her.
“Good,” she said, searching his familiar face. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“I thought you would never remember. Yes, from Dharamshala. Aren’t you the one who came to the monastery for three weeks straight, in the cold February of 2020?”
“Yes! It’s you! It was so peaceful at the monastery.”
“This is peaceful too, no?” he said, looking at the ocean.
“Yes, it is.”
