Ann told Chettiar, “I am sorry. I don’t have the money.”
Chettiar said, “’Sorry’ does not cut it. I need rent. Need to pay bills, you know.”
He was drunk and ready for a fight, even with a helpless woman who Ann was.
Ann said, “When my husband comes, I will ask him.”
Chettiar suddenly stood up, cursing her and Thoma. He closed the kitchen door. In the darkness that enveloped, Ann could barely make out the figure of the unwelcome intruder. The fire in the clay oven fought to dispel the darkness in the room.
He approached her.
What happened next still stays in her memory as a bundle of jumbled events. To the best of her memory, the next thing Chettiar did was to bend down to get hold of her long hair and stand her up by pulling her by hair. Then he beat her so hard that she reeled. She dropped the sickle and tapioca. The force of the beating landed her against the wall. She recoiled and collapsed on the floor, crying pitiably and screaming for help. There was no help coming, since the neighbor, Bhavani was out. Ann was alone in her kitchen with a dangerous man.
He dragged her over the floor, pulling her by her hair and standing her up again. Ann had by this time gotten hold of the fallen sickle and she did something unimaginable. She swung the sickle at him in desperation. Chettiar started bleeding from the forehead. He cursed and beat her again, this time on the head and so hard that she blacked out. This time, she did not get up from where she fell.
When she regained her consciousness, she was alone. She was lying on the kitchen floor, legs spread apart, totally naked. Her chatta and mundu were on the floor. They were ripped so badly that she had to wrap herself in a bath towel until she retrieved a new pair of clothes. The violation of her body by a cruel man filled her with disgust and humiliation. At a time when female dignity was of paramount importance, she was concerned if anyone would have known of the rape. Fortunately that remained a secret between her and Chettiar.
She took a quick bath and dressed in fresh clothes and finished cooking in time, prior to the arrival of her children and Thoma. Her biggest worry was if Thoma so much as even suspected what happened. If Thoma knew what happened, there would be a funeral at Chettiar’s home. She prayed to God Almighty for Thoma for what Thoma did not know, because Thoma was one of God’s most dangerous creations and he would have stopped at nothing to seek revenge.
There was someone watching the entire scene other than God. That was Subashini in the cage hung from the kitchen ceiling. The poor thing had tried to fly out of the cage and defend Ann any way she could. She had been unable to fly out and so had to stay put. She had squawked loudly while the atrocious incident was taking shape, to attract someone from the street—the best she could do under the circumstances. But her efforts were of no avail.
When Ann’s near and dear ones started arriving home in the evening, Subashini broadcast, “Ann attacked Chettiar” reversing the subject and the object of the sentence, displaying bad grammar. Ann’s curious children and Thoma were puzzled that a saint-like woman would attack anyone and therefore ignored the bird’s talk.
The next day, during the few minutes of freedom that Subashini was accustomed to getting daily, she flew out two houses down the road and settled down on the ceiling fan of Chettiar’s house. The fan was just outside the main door of the house. When he came out in a few minutes, Subashini was ready.
She flew down like a speeding kite and started pecking on his left eye relentlessly, braving his arm-swings directed at her. She ducked his blows, danced around and out of his attacking arms, and doggedly went after him. She went after his left eye, and boy, did she ever get what she wanted! Chettiar became one-eyed from that day onwards. Subashini lost a few feathers, but she refused to get her feathers ruffled.
“Next time, other eye will be lost,” Subashini warned the landlord, delivering a grammatically correct sentence this time. She then flew back to Ann’s kitchen.
Ann would give birth to a baby boy nine months later, and she insisted on naming him Disgust. This was such an outrageous name that she was asked by the Mannuthy parish priest to consider renaming. She eventually settled for Jaygust, an unusual name for a human being. She felt that justice was done by the fact that the name retained the ‘gust’ of ‘disgust,” a lasting reminder to a horrendous rape she had to surrender her dignity to. The painful memory never left her.
Only she and Chettiar knew that her sixth child was not from Thoma. Jaygust was also called Number-Six. He was the sixth child of Ann; but not of Thoma. She was thankful that God kept the secret well-guarded. The sight of Number-Six, a permanent sickle mark on Chettiar’s forehead, and his lost eye thanks to Subashini reminded her of the belittling episode.
***
Mannuthy life represented the bad old days whose undying images haunted Thoma and Ann even after they moved to Amballore and moved on with their lives. Old images came back to life when they were ruminating over their past. They came back like old friends dropping in for a cup of coffee. In a strange twist of life, those bitter images appeared consoling, and their reminiscences reassuring, if only because the couple knew they had crossed that bridge and never would have to confront old days again.
Even though their children knew that they came to a dangerous world because of Thoma and their misery was perpetuated because of his inability to support them, they were sympathetic to him because of the struggles he went through. Well, some of them were; not all. There was a redeeming quality to the battles he had to stage to set things right, so the thought process went; the thought process of some of his children, anyway. The struggles that Thoma had to endure after he was kicked out of his ancestral home were very many. He struggled to be good in the menial masonry work he had to embrace in order to earn a livelihood, and he braved unexpected layoffs occasionally. He broke his right leg while doing his job, an employment hazard that he was not insured for. There was not a single relative that stepped up to help him or his family. The list of his woes went on and on. Therefore, the lion’s share of his children was sympathetic to him.
However, Number-Six never forgave Thoma for making the family beggars in the streets of life. It was an irony of fate that Thoma’s only nonchild, Number-Six, was up in arms against him, whereas his legitimate children largely were at peace with him; staging a war against Thoma never occurred to them. As time went on and as Thoma became weaker and weaker and the children became stronger and stronger, confrontation between Thoma and Number-Six became more frequent.
It was in 1980, three years after the family settled down in Amballore, that Thoma went downhill with his health. Arthritis came visiting him and his movements became constrained. He could hardly walk and therefore, was confined to a chair or a bed. He was taking medication for high blood pressure and elevated blood sugar. He was a diabetic, and heart problems ran in the family. He was struck with a stroke that paralyzed part of his body. He developed a hunchback in his old age.
Mathettan, Annamma’s husband, living across the back fence of the Amballore home, visited Thoma often and chatted with him. They were old friends. He was also making sure that Thoma was well looked after by his children.
As per phone conversations Mathettan had with Josh who was living in Canada, Number-Six picked fights with Thoma often. He ceaselessly criticized Thoma for the reckless way he lived in his youth, causing the orphaning of his family. Fingers were pointed at him for giving away his fortune to his siblings, thereby making him unable to support his immediate family, Ann and the children. Mathettan was concerned, because Number-Six started withholding essential medicine from Thoma to punish him. Sometimes, food was withheld. Poor Ann could not do anything to redress the wrong-doings; she was afraid of Number-Six. Therefore, she contacted Mathettan who contacted Josh who contacted Number-Six and talked over things.
One day, while Mathettan was visiting Thoma, an altercation broke out between the father and son, Number-Six.
Thoma was a disabled man by now, fragile and weak, a
nd confined to a wheelchair. He used a cane to get around, and used it to walk regularly in the neighborhood to get the blood flow going, and to get badly-needed exercise.
“Get out of your chair and get some exercise,” Number-Six demanded the old man. Thoma sat there, ignoring him, and continued his conversation with Mathettan. Number-Six did not like being ignored. He grabbed Thoma’s cane.
Thoma was mad. No one touched his cane and he considered it rude for someone to do that—it was a sign of disrespect as far as Thoma was concerned.
Thoma stood up, fighting his old legs which prompted him to sit down. He took few steps towards his son, until he was face-to-face with him. Thoma pushed his son, and told him, “Don’t touch my cane! Put it back.” The frail man was mad. He had resentment towards Number-Six for starving him recently. The rude act of snatching his cane added insult to injury. Thoma moved back to his wheelchair and took seat.
Ann was helplessly watching the altercation, hoping it would not precipitate into some serious fight. But she was wrong.
Number-Six said, “What if I don’t?” He then started swinging the cane. Thoma steered his wheelchair out of the way. But his son persisted. The cane struck Thoma. Mathettan sprang into action, and grabbed the cane from Thoma’s cruel son and retrieved it to its usual place.
Number-Six left the area and started attending to the usual household tasks. This time, he walked to the backyard, and headed to a coconut palm tree to pluck some coconuts for dinner. He often used to perform such a task and other needed chores to help out Ann in preparing meals. Everyone thought that that was the end of the quarrel. Mathettan continued to chat with Thoma. Ann rubbed some coconut oil on Thoma’s forehead that by now sported a small bump.
Thoma saw Number-Six climbing the palm tree close to the outhouse in the backyard. He suddenly stood up, as if by supernatural force. The man in the wheelchair started walking inexplicably, abandoning his wheelchair behind him! He became revitalized like a resurrected Jesus and he walked as if he were a drunken corpse from nearby Saint Joseph’s Church’s cemetery, taking a hurried walk after having sneaked out of the grave! The figure Thoma cast, that of a hunchback tottering towards the outhouse, was like something taken out of a Malayalam horror movie. He continued moving towards the outhouse. While Mathettan and Ann were looking on in disbelief at seeing the disabled man walking, half thinking maybe he was headed to the outhouse, he lurched forward. The concerned Ann followed him, just in case, not sure what he was up to, prepared to catch him in case he collapsed and hurt himself.
The asthmatic man wobbled on. Instead of entering the outhouse, he approached the said tree and looked up. By this time, Number-Six had reached the top of the tree. Wheezing uncontrollably, he shouted loudly to Number-Six: “You are a curse to my family, you son-of-a-bitch.” He tried to shout very loudly, invoking all his strength, but his voice turned very feminine at that critical moment. Number-Six looked down, not sure where the loud feminine voice was coming from, sure it was not from Ann. He then saw Thoma at the bottom of the tree, pointing his finger at him accusingly, and shouting something which he could not hear. Number-Six threw a coconut at Thoma, but missed the target.
Then suddenly, as if seized by a demonic power, Thoma started shaking the tree! He shook the tree like a maniac, as if possessed by some demonic power. Ann got hold of him to restrain him, but unbelievably, the fragile man threw her off him. “The man has gone crazy; the devil has entered him; help me,” Ann screamed at the top of her voice. Number-Six was watching the unbelievable drama unveiling far below him and held on to the tree for dear life.
“Thoma, don’t do that! It is your own son on the tree top,” Mathettan shouted at Thoma and started running to the scene to restrain Thoma from the dangerous mission he was after with a religious fervor, but it was too late. Thoma managed to shake his sixth son off the palm tree before Mathettan arrived.
At the same time when Number-Six took the fall, Thoma collapsed due to exhaustion. Ann and Mathettan carried the distraught Thoma to his chair. He was still shaking violently.
Thoma turned back while being carried away from the crime scene and shouted to his son, “You are not my son, you son of a bitch.” The voice that came out of him was garbled because of the raging anger and because of his previous stroke that made his pronunciation less articulate.
Ann was surprised to hear Thoma’s declaration to her son and realized how true it was.
Number-Six, fortunately, did not die, even though he could very well have, having taken a giant fall. He fell inside the outhouse. An ambulance was called. Paramedics came, accompanied by fire fighters who hauled Number-Six out of the outhouse with a crane. He was lucky he did not drown in the brown stuff. The scene of Number-Six covered in shit was enough to trigger a wisecrack from Thoma, who told his son, in spite of the gravity of the situation, “You have now proven that you are full of shit, just as I have always suspected.”
The crane lifted Number-Six up and set him on the ground. He was hosed down with an industrial-strength water jet. Only after thorough cleaning did the paramedics dare approach him to take him to the emergency division of Amballore Hospital. Number-Six broke his right leg, which had to be amputated. He became one-legged ever since.
5THE MARCH OF OWLS
Ann’s ceaseless efforts to steer Thoma to the ways of God and church are the talk of Amballore even today. She even went to the extent of vowing to Saint Joseph that Thoma would carry the cross during the church’s Good Friday function called “Way of the Cross,” a procession conducted through Amballore’s streets. She vowed to the saint that Thoma would be the cross bearer if their firstborn was a boy.
This happened in 1941 in Amballore when the couple was staying there in their ancestral home, before their departure to the rental house in Mannuthy.
Her prayers were sanctioned. Their firstborn was indeed a son. They named him George after Thoma’s father, Vareed. After George was born, Thoma was obligated to walk through Amballore’s streets carrying the cross throughout the fourteen stations of the Way of the Cross. This was a tiring and humiliating experience for Thoma, who had shied away from church activities as far as anyone could remember.
The spectators of this religious function, including kids in the street, laughed loudly to see an atheist carrying the cross. The contrast between his way of life and the ideals underpinning cross-carrying, which included supreme sacrifice and selfless love was stark. Little girls giggled during the solemn ceremony. The priest had to hush them up to preserve the sanctity of the function. The men and women admired the courage and strength of Thoma to carry the heavy cross. However, they agreed among themselves that Thoma was hardly the man to emulate Jesus. If he were a church-attending, God-fearing, exemplary citizen, they would have appreciated his gesture. But this was a far cry from such a situation; his walk was nothing but a caricature of the legendary fourteen-station trek of Christ, etched in people’s memories.
His picture appeared in the Amballore Times with the caption “Atheist Carrying Cross.” He became an instant celebrity. After this remarkable incident in their younger days, Thoma forbade Ann from submitting any vows to be performed by him in private or especially in public. That memorable Good Friday was his last straw.
“Next time, you will be the one carrying the cross,” he warned Ann.
***
Ann’s prescription for Thoma’s malady of being a disaster of a man was religion. She was convinced all along that Thoma could have been rescued from the shipwreck that he caused, stranding his family in midocean, if only he embraced religion. Even though Thoma proved himself to be a failure of a man, Ann knew in her heart of hearts that her husband would have fulfilled his obligation to his family if only he could, and that “if only he could” would have materialized if— and only if— he prayed daily.
“If only he could” was what she thought of him when life threw insurmountable challenges and he miserably failed to address them. Ann used to wake up in the middle of t
he night and pray. Those prayers were more like critical conversations with God rather than signs of submissiveness in front of him. She blamed the Almighty for bleeding courage out of a man and making him a weakling.
“You should have given him a break, dear God,” she prayed to God.
God, in his turn, consoled her by reminding her that he was giving both of them a break in the evening of their lives.
“God works in mysterious ways, my daughter,” God told Ann.
She talked loudly to God during those postmidnight encounters. She blamed the heavens for the misery sent their way. She held him accountable for arraying gathering clouds in their lives, while giving no resourcefulness in combatting them. Her loud prayers would wake up Subashini from her sleep. The parrot would join Ann in her prayers.
“Give us peace, God,” Ann prayed.
“Give us peanuts, God,” Subashini paraphrased. She loved peanuts.
This loud chanting of two females would wake up Thoma, and he would instruct Subashini to keep quiet.
“Shut up, you nitwit,” he told Subashini.
Subashini thought this was Thoma’s own version of midnight prayer.
“Shut up, you nitwit,” the bird prayed.
“You shut up, not me,” Thoma said to the parrot.
“You shut up, not me,” the parrot repeated after Thoma. The bird repeated him faithfully, as if she was the second fiddle, as if she provided anaphora to Thoma’s poetic lines.
There was no way he could win over Subashini in the art of tit for tat, and therefore Thoma backed down and went back to sleep.
***
Thoma never went to church, except to attend important milestones in his life, such as his wedding, his children’s baptisms, and, on rare occasions, to attend the midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. He was once referred to in the Sunday sermon as a bad role model for the upcoming young generation in Mannuthy, steering them toward a way of life devoid of Jesus. Thoma was incensed by this public insult and decided to confront said priest. He planned to meet the holy man in church in the presence of all the devotees, to settle the account.
Amballore House Page 6