Blood Feud

by Brenda Donelan

  “No, Swami never said that. He has done readings for our family for many years. Why choose now to tell the family Raj’s secret?”

  Marlee already knew the answer, but she asked anyway. “Then why did Raj choose to tell me he was gay?”

  Without hesitation, Meena answered, “Because he wanted you to feel sorry for him. If you felt sorry for him, then you would be an easier target for one of his scams.”

  “Raj asked if I would help him immigrate to the United States. I agreed and told him I would help him find housing and employment. He wanted us to get married, even though he said he was homosexual, in order to speed up his entrance into the United States. When I refused, he became very angry and downright mean.” The words Raj spat at Marlee that night still rang in her ears, and she found herself becoming upset all over again.

  “This is not a surprise. He has tried to entice other foreign women to marry him and take him to their home country.”

  “Do you know any of the others he tried to get to marry him?” Marlee asked.

  Meena immediately dropped her eyes to the floor and said, “No, I never heard any of their names. Now if you will excuse me, I really should be getting back to my work.”

  When Marlee had been a probation officer back in the 1990s, she’d seen several videos on how to spot when someone was lying. In the past five seconds, Meena met most of the criteria on the checklist. Initially, she did not want to share any information, but when Marlee complimented her, Meena was more than willing to open up and answer Marlee’s questions. That is, until Marlee hit on a source of discomfort. What that told Marlee was this was an area needing further investigation.

  Just as Meena predicted, most of the professors in the Sociology Department did not bother to attend the meet-and-greet with Marlee. The three in attendance were the same three professors Meena said Marlee would interact with daily.

  After awkward introductions in which none of them knew what to say, they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. This was not necessarily strange, as academics were not the most socially adept people. In Marlee’s experience, professors tended to be introverts who only came out of hibernation when they were forced to do so by administration or if food was offered as an incentive to show up at a meeting. Sure enough, a plate of pastries and an urn of chai sat atop a table in the middle of the room.

  In typical American fashion, Marlee became uneasy with the silence in the room and rushed to put everyone at ease. “I’m so happy to be here. This is my first trip to India, and I love it.”

  “You love it?” Professor Yash Chopra sneered. “You were in jail for a murder, which later turned out to be a mistake on the part of the police and the doctors. How can you love that?”

  “That was certainly a low point of my visit, but I love the kindness of the people, the richness of the culture, and the food of course. Things may have started out a bit rocky, but I’m looking forward to teaching at Delhi University and learning more about India. And I’m also excited to meet all of you and, hopefully, the others in the department.” Marlee was putting the best possible spin on her short but dramatic time in India thus far.

  Ignoring Professor Chopra’s caustic tone, Professor Eleanor Appleton grabbed both of Marlee’s hands in her own. “We’re so happy to have you with us, even if is for only one semester. Our students are very excited to take your class and have been asking me so many questions about you and what you will be teaching them. I am pleased to have you as a colleague.”

  “Thank you so much, Professor Appleton.”

  “Please, call me Eleanor. Everyone except my students call me by my first name. My students and my children, that is. Do you have children?”

  “No, I don’t,” Marlee said, wondering how many times she would be required to have the no-husband and no-children conversation with Indians and foreigners alike.

  To her surprise, Eleanor broke out into a huge grin. “Oh, how I envy you. Late nights drinking wine with friends, dancing with men at the disco, and weekend mornings lazing in bed until noon. Don’t get me wrong. I love my children and wouldn’t trade them for all the gold in the world, but I do miss my single life.”

  Marlee smiled in relief. At least she wouldn’t have to go into her speech about why she was single and childless and planned to remain so for the foreseeable future. They chatted about Eleanor’s three pre-school-aged children and her husband, Crispin, who was the chair of the Engineering Department on campus. In the meantime, Professor Chopra had left the room, and it didn’t seem likely that he would return. Professor Patel sat in a chair in the corner, concentrating on his tea.

  “It’s a shame the beginning of the semester is overshadowed by an untimely death,” Marlee said, fishing for what Eleanor and Professor Patel might know about Raj’s demise.

  “What do you mean?” Eleanor asked. Professor Patel’s attention was directed at their conversation.

  “I’m sure you both know Raj Sharma, the liaison between new professors and the university? He’s a graduate student in your department. Raj was found dead last night,” Marlee stated, watching the faces of both professors carefully.

  “Raj is dead? Well, that does not surprise me with the way he conducted himself,” said Professor Patel with a snort.

  “He’s dead?” Eleanor had gone from her naturally pale complexion to a pale green. “What? What happened?” she sputtered, struggling to get the words out of her mouth.

  “We don’t know what happened. I just know that he died at home surrounded by his family,” Marlee said in a low tone, sensitive to Eleanor’s emotional reaction.

  Eleanor turned to leave, but before she could make it outside the room she stooped over and vomited onto the floor. “Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” Professor Patel handed her his handkerchief to wipe her mouth.

  “Are you okay, Eleanor? Would you like to sit down?” Marlee scooted over a chair, but Eleanor just waived it away.

  “Some stomach bug that’s going around. I think I’ll go back to my office after I get this cleaned up,” she whispered, her face still tinged with green.

  “Please go rest, Eleanor. I will clean it up. It’s no big deal,” Marlee said and, although Eleanor protested, she finally agreed to let her new colleague tend to the mess on the floor.

  The smell of vomit can make you feel like blowing chunks even if you felt perfectly fine before catching a whiff. Marlee held her breath as she wiped up the floor with a handful of paper towels. Meanwhile, Professor Patel watched her every move from a chair in the corner.

  “I sure hope we don’t pick up the virus Eleanor has,” Marlee said in Professor Patel’s general direction, not really expecting a response.

  A thoughtful silence proceeded his eventual comment. “I suspect it is pregnancy that has her feeling so poorly.”

  “Morning sickness?” Marlee asked. It hadn’t occurred to her that Eleanor’s illness could be anything other than what she said. “Really?”

  “Just a hunch. You also might be interested to know that the father is probably Raj. The two were carrying on an affair for a few months.” With that bombshell, Professor Patel rose from his chair, stepped around the area Marlee was still cleaning, and left the room.

  Blaming your faults on your nature does not change the nature of your faults.

  Indian proverb

  Chapter 15

  Could Professor Patel’s assertion that Eleanor was pregnant be true? And is Raj really the father? She had been told so many lies since arriving in India, primarily by Raj himself, that she wasn’t sure who or what to believe. And if Raj is the father of Eleanor’s baby, if she even is pregnant, why would Professor Patel tell me? I’m new here, and he has no reason to start dropping secrets and spreading gossip.

  Then she remembered the dynamics of her own department back at MSU. When a new faculty member came on board, there was a scramble to get that person to align with one of the factions within the department. Maybe that’s what Professor Patel is doing. He wants to get me o
n his side or at least has a motive for casting Eleanor in a bad light. But why? Perhaps he has a motive, but maybe he just likes to stir the pot for his own entertainment.

  After cleaning the floor and washing her hands, Marlee grabbed the tray of pastries. This might be my food for the next several days, she thought. Then she remembered Barry stretched out in her apartment, catching up on his sleep from the unexpected trip.

  Before Marlee left the building, pastries carefully wrapped in paper towels and placed inside her book bag, she swung by Eleanor’s office to see how she was feeling. The idea of asking Eleanor if she was pregnant and if Raj was the father volleyed back and forth in her head. As usual, Marlee went in without a plan, deciding to wing it.

  Eleanor blushed bright pink when Marlee knocked on her partially open door. “I am mortified at what happened earlier. You must think terribly of me.”

  “Not at all. How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

  “I had some ginger ale and feel better now,” she said with a faint smile, her blush fading.

  “Oh, is there somewhere to buy ginger ale in the building?” Marlee thought it might be prudent to know how to locate tummy settlers in case she contracted a bug.

  “Uh, no. I brought it with me from home. Would you like some?” The blush was back in Eleanor’s cheeks.

  “No, thank you. Just thought I’d find out where to get ginger ale since things are not so readily available around here. At least not compared to home. You must have been feeling ill earlier if you brought it from home.” Marlee studied Eleanor’s body language, hoping to discern her level of truthfulness.

  “No. Well, I mean yes. My stomach has been a bit upset off and on for a couple days now. Today is the worst, so hopefully I’m nearing the end.” Eleanor fidgeted as she sat on the edge of her office chair, tapping her pen on the desk.

  Taking a deep breath, Marlee decided to take the plunge. “I don’t know if I should bring this up to you or not, but when you left the meeting Professor Patel said he thought you were pregnant.”

  Eleanor leapt to her feet, her blush now turning into a scarlet red. “How dare he! The wanker!”

  “I’m sorry. I just thought you should know what was being said behind your back,” Marlee said, attempting to gain the trust and confidence of her new colleague, who seemed the most likeable and trustworthy at this point.

  The room grew silent, and Eleanor put her hand over her heart and closed her eyes. It appeared to be some type of meditation because after a few seconds, Eleanor’s face returned to its normal pale hue. She opened her eyes and gave a small smile. “I do apologize for my outburst. It’s just that Professor Patel has tried to undermine me since the first day he started teaching here. He lies, he starts rumors, and worst of all, turns people against me.” She sat back in her chair, continuing her movement toward a state of calm.

  “That’s terrible,” Marlee agreed, having been on the receiving end of some dirty tricks in her own department when she first started. “But I need to tell you, there’s more. He said the father of your baby wasn’t your husband. He said it was Raj, and that the two of you were engaged in an affair for the past few months.”

  “That bloody bastard!” Eleanor was on her feet again and her face was so red it looked as if her head would explode. “None of this is true, you know. I was very fond of Raj and was helping him with his research project, but we were not having an affair! I absolutely cannot believe Patel made these claims. And it’s especially troubling now that Raj is deceased.”

  “Why is Professor Patel trying to discredit you?”

  “He is very traditional and doesn’t think women should be in the workplace, especially if they have young children. I’ve made it clear to him on several occasions that it’s none of his business that I’m working. My husband and I are in agreement that we both should be teaching, and it’s what works for our family. Professor Patel continues to make disparaging comments about women in the workforce and how it is the downfall of the Indian family unit. So, whenever he gets a chance, he tries to demean or malign me. And I’ve had enough! I’m reporting him to Dean Reddy,” she said, marching down the hall, leaving Marlee standing in her office unsure of what to do next.

  “Barry, get your butt out of bed!” Marlee called out as she walked into the apartment. He was lying in the same position as when she left hours ago, snoring like a freight train. “Barry, get up!” Marlee violently shook the side of the bed. He jumped up and looked around the room, bewildered as to where he was and if the earthquake would continue.

  “What? What’s going on?” Drool dribbled down the side of Barry’s mouth and dried into a crust. His military-style crew cut, the only hair style Marlee had known him to have, didn’t suffer any flattening effects from his face-plant nap.

  “Splash some water on your face. We’re going out for lunch. I have a bunch of new information to tell you. You’re never going to believe my morning!”

  At a small restaurant just off campus, Marlee and Barry dug into dishes of chicken korma, curried lentils, basmati rice with tomatoes, and naan. In whispered tones, Marlee described her interactions that morning with the department secretary and the faculty members in her department.

  “So, the secretary said Raj was gay, and a professor said another professor was having an affair with him?” Barry had a bad habit of talking with his mouth full. Everyone did it sometimes, but usually when they only had a small amount of food in their mouth that they could stuff in one cheek while they mumbled a few words behind their hand. Not Barry. He waited to start a story after he shoveled in a load. Marlee saw a jumble of rice, bread, chicken, and beans roll around in his mouth as he talked. She couldn’t concentrate on a word he was saying.

  “Is that right?” Barry asked, his voice a bit louder this time.

  “Uh, yeah.” She looked around the restaurant but since she was new to campus there was no way of telling who might know Raj. “Let’s wait to talk about this until we get back to the room, okay?”

  With a full bottle of wine and a notebook before them, they added information to the notes Marlee had already written about Raj and the peculiarities she encountered thus far at Delhi University. “I don’t know, Barry. It seems like almost everyone is either lying to me or misinformed. I know for a fact that Raj lied to me on at least a couple of occasions. Some people seemed to think he was gay, and others thought he had multiple girlfriends. The secretary at the department said Raj was a liar, but Eleanor from the department said she thought the world of him and was helping him with his research. As near as I can tell, he was a chameleon. Raj could figure people out very quickly and then adapt his behavior to how he thought it would most benefit him.”

  “How would being seen as a liar to the department secretary benefit him?” Barry asked, pouring the wine as Marlee jotted down their thoughts.

  “It wouldn’t, but Raj was a cousin to Meena’s husband. There was no way he could hide his true self from his family all of his life. I bet it wouldn’t have been too long before he tried to get Meena fired. She would most likely tell the faculty and the department chair about Raj and what he was really like,” Marlee said, sipping on the cabernet.

  “Hmmm… If she knew Raj was going to work in the same department where she worked, I would think she might have already tipped off the dean as to his true colors. Why wait until he tries to sabotage her career before she does something?” Barry had already finished his first glass of wine and was pouring another.

  “Take it easy on the wine, Barry,” Marlee chastised. “You’re still suffering from jet lag and you’re not used to the alcohol over here. A couple more drinks, and you’ll be under the table. But to answer your question, Meena just had a baby and hadn’t returned to work when Raj applied for and received the job. She told me she was shocked when she returned to work and found her husband’s “unscrupulous cousin” working in her office,” Marlee said making air quotes.

  “Couldn’t she have said something once sh
e returned? I mean, there are tons of people in India. Surely Raj could have been replaced if his questionable character was discovered.”

  “In America, yes, that would probably work. But here in India, I don’t know. Everything is much different here, and women are not on equal footing with men. Not that they are in the United States either, but we pretend there is equality between the sexes.” Marlee waived her hands in front of her face. “But that’s another discussion for another time. I think Meena didn’t feel it was her place to tell the supervisors what Raj was really like. Maybe there would have been repercussions within the family too.”

  “What do you mean we pretend there’s equality between men and women in the United States? Have you ever looked at a job application? Or an application for a bank loan? There’s always a comment about not discriminating based on sex, color, and a bunch of other things.” Barry stood in front of Marlee with his hands on his hips. He was a nice guy, but about as oblivious as they come when it came to recognizing his privilege in society and the disadvantages of others.

  She shook her head as she looked at him, composing her thoughts instead of going off on a tangent. Marlee had talked to him about this issue before, but it was like describing water to someone surrounded by an ocean. It was there, and they couldn’t imagine life without it; therefore, it made no sense that there were people who didn’t have enough.

  “Barry, have you ever been afraid to walk alone for fear that a man may attack you? Have you ever walked with your keys between your fingers, so you could use them as a weapon if someone grabbed you in a parking lot? Have you ever felt like you had to play up to a man’s ego just so you could have the same consideration at work as everyone else?” Marlee stared at Barry, daring him to give a smart-ass answer so she could unleash the best within.

  “No, but…”

  “No buts, Barry. You are a white, middle class, male in America. The only people you have to bow down to are men in the upper class. In our country we say all the right things, but women are still second-class citizens. Yes, we can vote, hold jobs, and buy what we want. But just because there are laws in place ensuring our rights, it doesn’t mean that people don’t work around them. If I’m not hired for a job, the interviewer is smart enough not to say that it’s because he’d rather give the job to a man. He could be fired and sued for that comment. Instead, he will just quietly hire the man over me and say it was because of qualifications or experience or education. If it’s the truth and I didn’t get hired because of my deficits or flaws, that’s fine. I accept that. Hell, I expect that the person with the best qualifications will get the job. But what happens all too often is a white man is the interviewer and hires someone like him, a white man, even if his qualifications are less than a woman or a person of color.”