Letters to Andrea

By E.M. Albano

Letters to Andrea is book no. 3 of the trilogy, and the sequel to the authors first novel, The Widows Web. Book no. 2 of the trilogy is a companion novel, rather than a continuation of the original story. The reader can enjoy reading the sequel without having read Martins Story. However, to derive the most pleasure from reading this novel, one should first read The Widows Web. The events in Martins Story do appropriately take place between the time frames of these two novels.
The story is not meant to demean the society of India in any way. However, it is about an American widow who has chosen to use her fortune to improve the quality of life for others less fortunate and to rescue the 'children of the street.' It's also about the uncanny events that places a young widow in the throws of an unpredictable love affair.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477256268

E.M. Albano

Eugenio Michael Albano uses the pen name of E. M. Albano for his novels of fiction because he believes that not all individuals are willing to accept the fact that male writers are capable of writing from a women's perspective. The author is one of seven children, and the first boy following five sisters. He was born and raised in Philipsburg, Pennsylvania, just a short distance from his alma mater, the Pennsylvania State University. He is a former Arthur Murray dance instructor and served in the US Army in France during the early '60s. He earned his Bachelor and Master Degrees in Humanities subsequent to his 12 year marriage and during his 42 year career in real estate. He has taught English Composition and Creative Writing courses at three different community colleges.This is his sixth publication and represents his first and fifth novels—the first being the original story of the young widow, Andrea, and the fifth being the sequel. The two novels contained within represent Parts I and III of a trilogy which includes a companion novel, “Martin’s Story.”The author travels extensively and does most of his creative writing while occupying a modest studio in Paris. He considers both Paris and Perugia, Italy his 'homes away from home." He currently resides in Harrisburg, PA.

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© 2012 E. M. Albano. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 8/21/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5183-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5626-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012914194

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction

Foreword

Part I India, A Place Called Home

Chapter I Dharavi

Chapter II Miss Rosie

Chapter III Kunal Barhani

Chapter IV Rewarding Progress

Chapter V M. Bombay

Chapter VI Mother Josephine

Chapter VII Another Celebration…Without Lights

Chapter VIII The Calm before the Storm

Chapter IX The Storm

Chapter X The New Bridge of Time

Chapter XI Kunal’s Return

Chapter XII Andrea the Artist

Chapter XIII Andrea’s Business Trip to Delhi

Chapter XIV Andrea’s Return – A New Look

Chapter XV The Meeting

Chapter XVI The Other Side of Success

Chapter XVII Camera! Action! Calling Mrs. Rossi

Chapter XVIII A Small Portion of Success

Chapter XIX The Letter

Chapter XX Preparing for the Long Flight

Part II

Chapter XXI A Flight to the Past

Chapter XXII The Closet Door Opens

Chapter XXIII Clarita Jones

Chapter XXIV Hector Picquet

Chapter XXV Brazil

Chapter XXVI Where Coffee Grows

Chapter XXVII Elizabete Miranda

Chapter XXVIII A Slight Detour

Chapter XXIX Buenos Aires

Part III Paris

Chapter XXX Wish You Were Here

Chapter XXXI The Upside to Kunal’s loss

Chapter XXXII Bienvenue à Paris

Chapter XXXIII Paris—A Celebration of Life

Chapter XXXIV Le Procope

Chapter XXXV Fortunes and Tea Leaves

Chapter XXXVI Le Fumoir—Visiting Ghosts of the Past

Chapter XXXVII Paris Continues Calling

Chapter XXXVIII Farewell to Paris

Author’s Post Script

Acknowledgments

Introduction

In order to better understand the story of Andrea T.A.H. Rossi, one must return to the past to learn why a girl from Jersey ends up in India doing the work of dedicated nuns and social workers, rather than enjoying the trappings that are most often associated with those in our society commonly known as the privileged.

If you have read the first book in this trilogy, The Widow’s Web, then you may have determined just who planted the seed, and when that seed was planted that drove the young widow to abandon her career in order to seek out the forgotten children on the streets of Bombay (now known as Mumbai). Was it Mark Caldwell, the missionary doctor and husband of Andrea’s sister-in-law, when visiting them in South Africa?

Or was the seed planted as a result of an inspiration that she felt from knowing of the kind and charitable plans of her late husband, Carlos Rossi, to provide in his will for the future care and education of Ricardo, a boy whose own father was killed while working on farm machinery at Carlos’ Brazilian plantation?

Andrea knew that leaving behind her job as a senior buyer for Saxtons Department Store in Manhattan, and walking away from the trappings of a personal fortune inherited from the deaths of three husbands, was not going to be a picnic—especially when she chose a calling to go to India to rescue the abandoned children of the streets.

The Teflon coating that she had developed in surviving the deaths of three husbands was not going to protect a broken heart. It was only going to allow her to pass through other storms—with pain and denial—while possessing the strength to continue beyond the adversity.

When Andrea left for Mumbai the Twin Towers were still standing. Tavern on the Green was still coddling the rich and entertaining the google-eyed tourists who could afford to splurge on a Sunday brunch; it was also the famous place de choix that welcomed New York families at Christmastime with its opulent crystal chandeliers and over-decorated holiday trees. Now, both were gone!

Our story, then, is the continuation of Andrea T.A.H. Rossi’s life from the final pages of The Widow’s Web. It begins with Andrea’s arrival in India more than eight years ago.

Foreword

Andrea T.A.H. Rossi was thirty-three when her third husband met the uncanny fate of a plane crash caused by a flock of birds at Boston Harbor. After finding her own method for healing and putting her affairs in order, and after one last visit to Paris to share some quiet time with her friend, Tara Bernstein, and bid her farewell to that ‘city of lights,’ she made her way to the Caldwells in South Africa. There she would receive her final instructions and encouragement from her mentor, Mark Caldwell, for her work in India. And so, by the late summer and early fall of that same year she had finally arrived at her new home…although there was no home or apartment but only a commitment that would open the doors to a new chapter of her life.

In the last chapter of The Widow’s Web we found the young widow Andrea sharing her thoughts with her readers as she entered the Gateway to India: The sounds of ‘Va Pensiero’ faded and I heard another tune being played by a violin, but there was no violinist in sight. It was the haunting melody of Massenet’s ‘Meditation’ from his opera, ‘Thais.’ It seemed as though both Wendell and Carlos were trying to tell me that I had finally made my way home. This is where I was supposed to be—among the starving and the abandoned children, not in a fancy department store where major decisions involved what someone would wear on their cleansed body during the new season. I remembered an Indian woman from my department. She was a seamstress and had lived in Bombay; her name was Anshita. She had told me that there was much beauty in India, but that it had been replaced by the poverty and corruption. Perhaps I was sent here to find that beauty.

Part I

India, A Place Called Home

Chapter I

Dharavi

Our story begins on a wet, rainy day in Mumbai (still known by many as Bombay). The monsoons had left their calling card as the people worked at sopping up its remains of mud and filthy water. The streets in Dharavi had never looked like much more than swamps and cesspools, but now even the taxis could not navigate on 90 Feet Street. The drivers had to caution their fares that they may have to wade to their ultimate destination in order to prevent the taxis from sinking their tires into the ominous puddles whose marshes often acted like quicksand.

High rubber boots were common attire, but only among those who were rich enough to afford them. They certainly could not be afforded by those who were members of households of as many as fifteen people. Such households were not genetically linked but had become ersatz families out of necessity—sharing small shacks of survival or two room apartments that found individuals sleeping next to their plumber, their electrician, or other individuals who joined for the purpose of survival.

Most tourists were advised to avoid Dharavi. There were other places in the city to find bargains, but of course the best bargains were found in the poorest neighborhoods of many cities, and Dharavi was no exception. Besides, there was always an attraction to Dharavi since it was located in the center of the city and contained most of the leather shops. Tourists knew that merchandise purchased in Dharavi had been made to please the rich and curious; how those products were acquired was never a question asked.

Before we visit our story at the present time—with the arrival of a letter that would once again change Andrea’s direction of priorities—we must re-visit the past during the first eight or nine years of her life in Mumbai, those years that enable us to connect the dots in bringing our story to the present.

We will discover that Andrea’s tragedies did not end when she left her career and family in the states, when she had become a young widow—not once, not twice, but three times! The problems just took on a new identity and continued to challenge her ability to weather the storms that were put before her.

Perhaps it was not a coincidence that her second husband’s death led her to visit his only sister, Susan, in South Africa where her husband, Mark Caldwell, was occupied in rescuing the children who were victims of a superstitious society—those families who still believed in witch doctors and curses: an ancient and obsolete African culture.

When Andrea visited Mark’s clinic and witnessed the frail young lives who had suffered rejection from their families as a result of being victims of birth defects such as facial disfiguration, stumps where hands and fingers had not grown, incomplete clumps of flesh where limbs had not matured, she immediately felt a compassion for these innocent young victims of fate; she found a compassion within her that heretofore had never been explored or known to exist.

Andrea’s introduction to Mark Caldwell was the inspirational vehicle that led her to the mission in India. She hadn’t been exposed to the physically impaired and the oppressed until that time. These were the children who had been thrown out by their families—discarded like garbage that is put out to be collected and recycled. Only the innocent children born with less than perfect bodies should never be discarded and Mark Caldwell knew that and so did Andrea!

It was Mark Caldwell who counseled Andrea on where she might go to make a difference. However, the area in India which needed her attention was a center of poverty and corruption—it was a hell hole where women and children were the victims of human trafficking, rather than a dumping ground for the unwanted children who, in South Africa, had been born victims of birth defects and disfigurations—often the result of drug addiction and/or that of genetic treachery.

Dharavi was the sewer of Bombay, now known as Mumbai. Dharavi was not only the geographical center of Mumbai; it was the center of that city which had literally been swamp land at one time, and now it was the center of poverty and corruption. Dharavi was the area where women and children were exploited for their bodies and souls!

Andrea wanted to become the savior—the single human element for the many single mothers and abandoned children of the streets. Just as that district had drawn in the impoverished to claim as its victims, it would also exact its toll on its savior; it would change her life forever.

She had been successful in putting her past behind her, although a part of her past was always present since it was that past that allowed her to discover a new goal in life—a more substantive reason for living, for going on to seek a better purpose in life than trying to achieve happiness for herself, a happiness which had always been beyond her reach.

Much had occurred since her arrival more than eight years ago. In fact, it was not easy to know if it had been eight or more like ten years since she arrived at the port known as the ‘Gateway to India.’ She had awakened from an extended nap that was most likely a result of mental exhaustion as her ship approached the dock. She noticed the imposing sight of the Taj Hotel from the ship.

It was a wet evening and the black and yellow cabs were awaiting the ship’s arrival in order to transport its passengers away from the unsightly events at the dock and to take them directly to the Taj Hotel. It was commonly assumed that most, if not all of the passengers, would be staying at that luxury hotel rather than any of lesser standards. Of course Andrea proved her driver wrong.

It was only later that Andrea hailed a cab; she was eager to walk along in the light drizzle of rain to explore the gateway to her new home. The odors that were so often associated with the sea were present that evening and they were integrated with the odor of bodies and dead fish that occupied the same space of the atmosphere—they were anything but inviting.

It was not difficult to realize that these were the odors to which she would have to adapt; they represented her new surroundings. Unfortunately, she could not have known when she arrived that those initial odors of Bombay’s port would have been welcomed compared to the stench that crept above the ground like a ruptured sewer line in Dharavi.

Andrea never forgot that the taxi driver tried to convince her that she did not want to go to Dharavi…that she must have been misinformed as to the address given her. When she assured him that she was quite sure of her destination he began to lecture her on the dangers that lurked within that neighborhood. Her identity as an American must have been obvious…beyond her American-English accent. Perhaps Andrea was a bit naïve, although she did know where she was going. But she couldn’t have known just how risky that arrival was because she was still hearing the haunting sounds and melodies that were associated with her late husbands and the past.

After that evening, however, there were no longer sounds of Va Pensiero, or Massenet’s Meditation ringing in her ears. Those beautiful sounds from her past would be replaced by the whaling sounds of small children begging in the streets and the moaning of women who were still in pain from childbirth or from butcher-style abortions that allowed them more freedom to go back on the streets to beg for their masters.

Even now, almost ten years later, Andrea acknowledged that she could not afford the luxury of reflecting on the past. There was a lot of pain associated with her past in Mumbai and she knew that eventually she would find it awaiting her review. That time will find its way into her reflections, but that time will not find its way until she is leaving India on a long flight back to Brazil. We’ll have to be patient for that voyage; it will arrive after we have looked into the past and those years that led up to the present and other crises in her life.

Of course not all of the past is filled with disappointment and unproductive events. Just like her more distant past, there have been some positive events and some bright days between the dark clouds. Andrea was grateful for the friendships she had developed, especially one which she had forged as a result of her initial visit to New Delhi during that first year.

The orphanage which she had sought to establish there was not realized within the intended time frame, but the relationship she established with Mother Josephine at the Sisters of Mercy would prove to serve her needs in an entirely different and unpredicted manner. Together they would eventually establish an orphanage near New Delhi, but there would be stumbling blocks along the way, and it would not be the orphanage that she had visualized. There would have to be compromises that were forced upon her by an unforeseen tragedy!

Chapter II

Miss Rosie

Upon Andrea’s arrival in Mumbai she knew that she would have to move quickly to establish herself in the Dharavi district. She recalled Mark Caldwell’s warnings about ‘the sin of distractions,’ and she had no intention of becoming discouraged because of the surroundings or negative environment. She knew that Mark had not given her the warning as an antagonist, but rather to challenge her as a friend because he knew of the root of her inspiration and ultimate goal.

She did not lose any time in finding a suitable location for her base and moved quickly to purchase it. Rather than establish a bank fund locally from which to draw her funds, she had her foundation wire her funds as she saw the need for them. One of her first possessions was a small strong box which she had purchased under the guise of needing to store manuscripts for a book she was writing. In essence, it was her cash box! Within a short time she realized that it had been a very smart decision.

Andrea’s base and eventual office was an abandoned warehouse; it had been a storage place for produce which was distributed to the local vendors. The street crimes and beggars had continually discouraged any significant number of shoppers from coming to the area, and the sanitation situation had made it impossible for produce to be held for any length of time. She found plenty of individuals who welcomed the employment of working on the building; to a great extent they were members of the families who had fallen victim to the mafia bosses who ruled the streets by sending children out to beg and women to either beg or offer up their bodies for a few coins. Yes, even in India an element of organized crime was known as The Indian Mafia!

The workers had quickly misunderstood Andrea’s name to be Rosie, rather than Rossi. And so she accepted the new title of Miss Rosie rather than continuing to correct the locals. Most of her applicants for employment had been men. In particular, there were two brothers who did most of her carpentry and re-modeling of the old warehouse. There were a few women, however, who were willing to take jobs that involved manual labor, rather than shame their families by accepting street work that brought disgrace to the family by accepting the role of beggars.

Of course the first order of business in Dharavi was survival. Shame often had to be ignored when it meant the difference between feeding one’s family and starving. Decent employment was usually reserved for those who were able to avoid the ‘rule of the street.’

The word had traveled fast that there was an American woman who had funds to employ. And the employment was especially welcomed when it was subsequently learned that this American woman was planning to build shelters that would offer refuge to the victims of the street.

Andrea’s first staff employee was a frail-looking, but strong spirited woman whose name was Anshita. It was the same name which she knew from her days at the Saxon store; but that Anshita was a seamstress who had accumulated flesh on her bones and a bit of weight that was often associated with healthy middle age; she had left India for a better life. The frail Anshita who now made herself known to Andrea was a smaller woman, but with a much more persevering persona than the