The Wedding Drums

by Marilyn Rodwell

  ‘Look at my face, girl. Do I look like somebody who will ever worry? That man fell for me immediately. I am the best thing that’s happened to him in years.’

  ‘But when you lie, things get worse,’ Amina said. ‘Why don’t you understand?’

  ‘So, tell me, Miss Perfect, what about Rajnath? When’s the wedding? And are you going to invite me? And how much have you lied to your mother about not meeting up with him alone?’

  ‘Shhh! Are you trying to get me in trouble? My mother will hear you. Nothing is going on with me and Rajnath. He’s just a friend – not even that.’

  ‘Meeting up in secret? I think he likes you. So, what’s happening with the rich match?’

  ‘I saw him once, and I can’t even remember what he looked like. Anyway, I am doing the Pupil Teaching Course now. And I’m changing my religion. It’s a secret.’

  ‘You. Have. Gone. Mad. Wait. You took all I said about turning Catholic seriously? I was joking. It’s not possible.’

  ‘It is possible. Actually, it is essential if you want to teach in a Catholic school.’

  ‘Who says that? Oh, that will be the all-knowing all-seeing Mr Clifford.’

  ‘Well, he does know something about education and teaching, Sumati. And he’s not bad at giving good advice either. Actually, I wouldn’t mind some of that rubbing off on me.’

  ‘So that’s what this is about. You, turning Catholic – to give me advice!’ Sumati clasped her belly and stared at Amina. ‘Well, advise yourself, Miss Perfect. Stop pretending you’re better than everybody else.’

  ‘I didn’t say I was,’ Amina defended herself. ‘I’m trying to better myself, that’s all. Why is that a crime? Because I’m a girl?’

  Sumati stood up and arched her back.

  ‘I don’t mean to make anything worse for you,’ Amina went on, ‘but I wouldn’t be any kind of a friend if I didn’t say that telling lies as big as the ones you tell will come back to haunt you. If you want Baljit to bring up some other man’s child, you should tell him about it. In the Bible, it is called truth and honesty.’

  ‘The Bible?’ Sumati looked at her in amazement. ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘Lying lips are an abomination unto the Lord. But they that deal truly are His delight. Proverbs 12:22.’

  ‘What?’ Sumati stepped back. ‘And where in the Bible does it say about turning against your own religion, and your own friends? Where, Amina?’ Sumati’s eyes shone like clear rainwater in the sun.

  ‘Deceit is in the heart of them that imagine evil. But to the counsellors of peace is joy.’

  ‘So you are peace and joy, and I am deceit and evil?’ Sumati spat angrily. ‘Well, I never knew it would come to this. It’s strange how a little bit of Catholic religion could turn you into someone so perfect. I leave here for five minutes, and you change into a different person. We are sisters, remember? Your God turned you so cold.’

  ‘My God is the God of Love. And I care about you, Sumati. More than you understand. You are the closest I will ever come to having a sister. I want the best for you. I don’t want to see you hurt.’

  ‘You don’t know the meaning of hurt, Amina. Just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean I’m not hurting.’

  ‘My God is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.’

  ‘And you are who? The daughter of Abraham?’

  ‘We all can be daughters of Abraham, if we turn to the one true God. Have faith in that God and He will not turn His back on us.’

  ‘I have to say, old Clifford is doing a good job on you, girl.’

  ‘Sumati, I just happen to think that there is something in this Christian religion, and I want to know more about it. I’m learning something new, and it’s making sense.’

  ‘I am Hindu, and I don’t see what is wrong with it. You have your new life, and I have mine. I know which one I want.’

  ‘But do you know what you want, Sumati?’

  ‘I am sorry for you, Amina. You always have to do what everyone expects from you. And you never do what you want to do. That is the difference between us. If you could accept we are different, we could still be friends.’

  ‘But you always do what you want, Sumati – and hurt everybody around you. And that includes me. I have no choice when you act like you do. Who else will tell you? But if you don’t want to be friends, I’m sad about that.’

  Sumati left Amina. She walked up the path. But instead of turning right to go home, she turned left.

  FORTY-ONE

  At evening class, Amina asked Mr Clifford a burning question. ‘What advice would you give a friend who was lying to her husband?’

  ‘It depends on what she is lying about and why,’ he said. ‘Everything is not black and white. Some things are quite grey.’

  ‘What do you mean by grey, sir?’

  ‘Grey is the whole spectrum between black and white, good and evil, truth and lies, even. When you asked me about becoming a Catholic, I remember your face. You so wanted to do the right thing. But you have to look deeper into someone’s motives. Their reasons might be more virtuous than the truth itself. Would you lie if it would save your mother’s life?’

  Amina looked puzzled. ‘Maybe, sir.’

  ‘Maybe? Ask yourself if you would like someone to lie if it would save your life. Think about it. Don’t answer straight away. Rome was not built in a day. And maturity does not happen overnight.’

  ‘I understand, sir. Well, I don’t really, but I’m beginning to. Except in the Bible, you told us it says, Thou shall not lie.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. And the Bible appears to be full of contradictions. But so does any message if you only read one line and ignore the rest. How can you love your neighbour as yourself, if you cannot put yourself in their shoes? Think like them, imagine yourself with their dilemmas. When the good man Jesus said, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you – what does that mean? It means to put yourself in their shoes and understand their position, their pain and their sorrows. Now you are not ignoring the fact that God abhors a liar. But you are putting it into some context. Including the commands of Jesus, who was sent to save us from our sins by sacrificing himself, to love one another, forgive, and not judge.’

  ‘It’s complicated, sir.’

  ‘It is. Because it is a whole lot of books put together and you need to read them a number of times in the context they were written, and understand. I cannot say I understand it all. Not at all. But the real message is simple. To love.’

  ‘Is it that easy?’

  ‘Simple enough, but not that easy. We are told to love God. Love one another. Love our neighbour – a stranger – as ourselves. Even love your enemies.’

  ‘I don’t know how to do that, sir.’

  ‘Love must be the answer. It comes in all forms – not just between a man and a woman. But showing kindness in what we do and say, even in our thinking.’

  ‘Sir, it all sounds so hard.’

  ‘Life is hard. Being kind makes it more bearable for us all. Listen, girl, you are doing the right thing by asking these questions. And I hope I am giving you the right answers.’

  ‘I don’t like to ask stupid questions.’

  ‘There is no such thing as a stupid question. Although there is such a thing as a stupid answer. I hope I am not confusing you. The Pharisees in the New Testament often followed Jesus and tried to trick him with their questions. You are not doing that.’

  ‘No, sir, I’m not.’

  ‘Once, when he was healing the sick, they asked him this. Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day? Now they were referring to resting on the Sabbath day in the Law of Moses, given to the Jews directly from God, which is what the Jews followed, even today. Can you guess how Jesus replied?’

  ‘Not really, sir.’

  ‘Jesus answered with a question. A question to make them think! Now in those days, people bought animals with their money. Livestock is valuable. It represents wealth even today. People look after them – feed and water them eve
ry day. So, how do you think Jesus replied? He said, which of you would have a sheep that falls in a pit on the Sabbath day, and not lift it out? How much better is a man than a sheep? Therefore, it is lawful to do good on a Sabbath day. Jesus continued to heal the man standing in front of him, and the Pharisees got up and left.’

  ‘He was a very wise man.’

  ‘He, Amina, is the Son of God. And the Good Lord wants us to listen to His Son.’

  ‘Is this what I have to learn to get baptised?’ Amina asked. ‘Because it is a lot. It scares me. But I really want to learn.’

  ‘Nothing good comes easily. The heights of great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight. But they, while their companions slept, were toiling upwards in the night. That is a quote from the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Well, getting baptised is not the end of learning. It is but the first day of the rest of your life. Show me a man who has finished learning, and I will show you a fool.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I will try really hard to put myself in her shoes. It’s not easy though.’

  ‘I told you. Nothing worthwhile comes easy! That is why I will tell you this little thing, but I don’t want you to repeat it to anyone. I could get into great difficulty if the Catholic Board gets wind of it.’

  Amina opened her eyes wide. ‘I will not tell anyone, sir. What is it?’

  ‘Look, we will talk later. Let’s go and sit down, and get on with the evening class.’

  Before she even thought it through, Sumati had already started walking. She had to find out why Rajnath was really seeing so much of Amina, because it was not like her friend to break rules. There had to be some good reason why she was turning into a person Sumati could hardly recognise. So much talk about the Christian God and Jesus, learning Bible quotations and throwing them at her? No one in their right mind would turn from the comfort of Hinduism and all the rituals passed down through the generations. It was like a second skin. You didn’t need to think, it was that easy. It was done for you. To turn from that to learn something so foreign was inconceivable.

  It was a long walk and Sumati felt heavier every minute. By the time she got to the Singh house, she was breathless and unable to speak. Parbatee was alarmed when she saw the girl struggling into her yard and got her to sit down immediately.

  ‘You live in this village?’ Parbatee asked kindly, holding out a cup of water. ‘You look familiar.’

  Sumati nodded, still trying to catch her breath. ‘What are you doing here?’ Parbatee asked.

  ‘Rajnath,’ she gasped. ‘I’m looking for him.’

  Parbatee stared, shocked at Sumati’s circumference. ‘You want my son?’

  ‘Yes, your son, if his name is Rajnath Kamalsingh. I am looking for him.’

  ‘He did this to you?’ Parbatee’s voice dropped through her lungs as she watched Sumati gulp the water.

  ‘Yes. I want to talk to him.’

  ‘But first you will talk to me,’ Parbatee insisted, pulling up a peerha close and easing herself onto it, unable to keep her eyes off Sumati’s belly. ‘When did this happen? Your mother died knowing that my son put the child in your belly?’

  ‘No. She didn’t know anything about it.’

  ‘My son is sick. This is not a good time. He nearly died. Now he is getting better, but nobody came to see if he was dead or alive. Not one.’ Parbatee was in tears. ‘If that child in your belly is his,’ she went on, ‘I will be so happy. And pleased that you at least have come. It will be my only grandchild.’

  ‘Ma!’ a voice bellowed from inside.

  ‘That is his brother.’ Parbatee pointed in the direction of Annan’s voice. Then she shouted, ‘Your brother has a child on the way.’

  ‘I will tell him,’ Annan called back, sounding surprised. ‘That will make him happy.’

  ‘Come.’ Parbatee beckoned Sumati. ‘Come inside.’

  Sumati got up and hobbled into the house.

  ‘This pretty girl has come to see you. You must know her?’ Parbatee said. ‘What have you done? This is karma. You are getting the punishment.’

  Rajnath half-smiled at Sumati. ‘She’s Amina’s friend who got married the other day.’

  ‘She’s married?’ Parbatee looked very confused. ‘Amina’s friend? What curse do you bring on us, boy?’

  ‘You went to the wedding, Ma.’

  ‘Me?’ Parbatee asked, squinting at Sumati. ‘You are not looking the same.’

  Rajnath was lying in bed, his face thin and drawn and his cheeks and chin bristled rough. Sumati barely recognised him.

  ‘What happened to you?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I’m getting better now, but I’ve been here in bed for the last few weeks. You’re looking well though. Is your husband treating you good?’

  ‘Better than I expected,’ Sumati said.

  ‘I’m pleased about that, and I hope he continues to look after you. I am so sorry about the way you were treated when you were in San Fernando with my uncle and cousin. I never knew they were involved with those things. When I’m strong again, I intend to do something about it.’

  ‘Who told you? And what can you do?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I had already started – then this happened.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘At first the doctor thought that I had consumption...TB. He was expecting me to be dead by now. But after a few weeks he realised it was pneumonia instead.’

  ‘Well, you could have died with that too.’

  Rajnath smiled. ‘It’s so nice having somebody visit me.’

  ‘Your mother said nobody came.’

  ‘That is because the doctor said I wasn’t to have visitors because if it was TB he didn’t want the whole of Granville getting it.’ He looked at her. ‘How is Amina?’ he asked.

  ‘We’ve fallen out. I want to talk to you about her. I know you’ve been seeing her. Why? Because she is going to get into a lot of trouble if the panch hears about that.’

  ‘Why are you talking about that?’ Parbatee interjected. ‘It’s more important to decide what you going to do about the child in this girl’s belly. When that man finds out it is your child he will kill her and the baby. Talk, boy! Talk to me about that! You have a way about you that makes me sorry I didn’t beat you enough when you were small. Did you tell the girl you have bronchopneumonia?’ She turned to Sumati. ‘He doesn’t do things by halves, you see. He has to get two lungs infected, not just one.’

  ‘There was something I had to discuss with you,’ Sumati said.

  ‘I can’t concentrate anymore,’ he whispered. ‘I’m really tired.’ And he fell asleep before her eyes.

  Sumati hobbled down the steps then doubled up in pain.

  ‘Are you all right? I’ll get the neighbour to take you home on his donkey cart,’ Parbatee offered. ‘Wait.’

  ‘No thanks, Tantie,’ Sumati replied, wincing. ‘I’ll be fine. You go and see to Rajnath.’

  ‘It is a long way for you to walk in your condition,’ Parbatee fretted, but Sumati paid her no heed. ‘Take care,’ she called.

  The woman rushed back up the steps to her son. ‘When that child is born, make her bring it here,’ she told him.

  ‘I cannot make her,’ he said drowsily. ‘You can ask her.’

  ‘I will tell her, and she will have to do it,’ Parbatee insisted.

  After evening class, Amina stayed back to talk to Mr Clifford again.

  ‘The right answers are important to me, sir. What were you going to tell me – about yourself? I promise not to say to anyone.’

  ‘It’s getting late, and your parents will worry. But quickly then, I will tell you. To be baptised a Catholic, you have to learn by rote a whole load of Catechism – nothing to do with the Bible itself. Now, I was exposed to the Bible directly in my boyhood, not Catechism. I was not always a Catholic, you see. I’m only telling you because my conscience will not let me continue to allow you to think otherwise. In my heart, I am not really Catholic. There – that’s the trut
h.’

  ‘But I thought . . . ’

  ‘I’m Catholic in name only. How else could I get a job in teaching? I had to join in order to work in their schools. Imperative if you want promotion.’

  ‘But that doesn’t sound honest.’ Amina was appalled.

  ‘Girl, you’re like a shower of rain on a hot, dusty day. But how else can I help children? Remember the common sense that Jesus applied?’

  ‘But how did you learn all these things? You talk about the Bible a lot.’

  ‘Not from the priest!’ Mr Clifford snorted. ‘I’m not even sure he himself understands the Latin he recites. When I was a boy, I spent time at a large house where my mother used to work. There were many books there, including an English translation of the King James Bible. It fascinated me. Also, I often overheard discussions about the Bible coming from the library after dinner. One day I found the book they were discussing: Christendom Astray. Written by a man called Robert Roberts. Anyway, I became interested in this book – and . . . actually I stole it.’

  Amina gasped in horror.

  He quickly corrected himself, looking ashamed – ‘Well, I borrowed it for a while. I read a lot, as you know, girl. Fascinating!’ He sighed. ‘My mother was a cook in that house. A very good cook too. I might have taken some liberties because of it. The master of the house – he liked her a lot.’

  The headmaster sat down wearily and gestured to Amina to sit beside him before he took up his tale again.

  ‘It’s interesting, sir – your life.’

  ‘Interesting indeed. There were times they had a lot of people there, eating, drinking and talking. I heard parts of conversations through the door opening and closing. Sometimes people talked very loud. Heated. Not drunk though. But as if. . . deep in conflict about the churches and how they diverted from the Bible itself. And that Jesus who died on the cross could not have been a god, or God Himself in any way. No. It seems that He was entirely separate as the Son who was sent for a special purpose, to save mankind. To die, for the forgiveness of our sins. And God raised Him back to life, because He was too perfect to remain dead. The grave would not hold Him. The Bible says these things, girl. This God loved the world so much that he gave His only begotten son as a sacrifice, in order to fulfil His purpose to redeem men from their sins. That made me interested.’