Moby Dx: A Novel of Silicon Valley - Volume 1 Max Ebb

Chapter 8 The Conversation

I talk to my mother every day. It’s part of my pact with her. I never laid on the guilt about her moving halfway around the world from me, and she did whatever she could to make me feel close.

“Rani, so what is it you’re doing in that sandbox of yours?” she asked me, Skyping from Bangalore.

“Well, it’s not what I thought it would be,” I said. “Jay says I’m his TA.”

“Who is this Jay, Rani? I thought you were working for Dr. Orrix schmorrix.”

“Yes, Ammaji. Jay Orrix. Jay is Dr. Orrix, Ammaji.”

“Oh, I see. First name basis. Make sure you are polite, Rani. You are just a little bit of spice in his life. What about his wife? Know your place. Know your space, Rani.” Her head bobbled at this and she smiled at the old jokes we shared.

“Yes, Ammaji.”

“And TA, Rani. Do you work side by side and hand him instruments, or do setups? What do you do all day, Rani?”

“Amma. I wish, Amma. I’m just a gofer. A fancy gofer, but just a gofer.”

“Yes, I had a gofer years ago when I was Lab Director. She would go shopping or schlepping for all the little things I forgot. What a big help she was.”

“Amma, we don’t go anywhere anymore, or at least not now. It means I look things up for him and write short reports and make lots of slides for him. You know, Amma. PowerPoint. I am a PowerPoint biologist now.”

“I thought you were a molecular biologist, Rani. Do you have a project to show, Rani? Results of your own, Rani?”

“No, Amma. No, I don’t, Amma. I am learning a lot, Amma. He says I am very fast and thorough. I like what I’m doing now. But you are right, I do need my own things, and I want to get back to the lab. Jay will give me good recommendations, so I think it’s OK, Amma.”

“Rani, you look so skinny. Are you eating enough, Thangama, my golden child?”

“Yes, Ammaji. Yes, Amma. I’m working hard, that’s all. I’m eating plenty. And it’s fun, really. I’m going to be giving a little presentation for him, and we’re going to work on it on his boat over the weekend.”

“Oh, Rani! Very exciting. But is it really proper, Chellam, my dear? He’s married, isn’t he?”

“Amma! Such a dirty mind. Yes, he’s married. But the wife, she’s not here.”

“Wife? Not there? No trouble and strife, I hope?”

“No Amma! Why do you even suggest that? What a gossip you are. She’s away, filming a movie. And I’ll be staying in a room with Lucy, their eleven-year-old. His parents are here. It’s his parents’ boat; very grand, you know, a super yacht. It’s called the Lucky Strike.”

“Tobacco money, honey? Rani, now you’ll be the dirty one. Ha!”

“No, Amma. The name of the boat, umh, is some kind of family totem. I’ll tell you more about it after the weekend.”

“Yes, Rani, but what do you know about boats, Rani? How can you be helpful?”

“Oh, Amma! It’s a ship. There’s a captain and a staff to run the boat, and a chef, too. They even have the crew chew your food for you.”

“Oh, Rani. You kid me too much! How much of this is true?”

“Amma, I will chew my own food. But everything else? All true. All true.” We pause for a moment. Time’s up. “And I’m sorry, Amma, but I have to go now to get ready for the weekend. Sorry I didn’t get to see Appa.”

“He’s flying to Mumbai, doll. He sends his love from above. But you missed your sister. Don’t you have time to talk with her?”

“After the weekend. Not now, Amma. I promise, next week. You make sure she is studying hard, will you? Tell her I’m looking at her grades online.”

“Yes, Ranita. Yes, I will. Be safe, Rani. I know you will be polite and make us proud. Bye-bye.”

We both waved to each other and clicked the iconic red telephone icon to end the call.