A Promise to Keep

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A Promise to Keep Page 8

by Carter Tachikawa


  "Yeah, maybe you could." I said, suddenly feeling guilty. I didn't know why though. There was nothing horrible about her. The breasts might have been fake but I could live with those. I could live with so much that she had to offer. Why was this relationship not real? It felt too good. It felt like it made sense. For once, something was making a lot of sense in my life.

  Dylan and Aurora were asleep on the couch, Aurora lying on top of him. For a second, I expected Rachel to be screaming her tonsils out. But she just stared at them, looking like they were babies in a crib. Dylan's jacket was on the ground along with Aurora's sweater (covered in dried snot, of course) and shoes. It didn't seem like they had done anything except falling asleep next to each other while watching a movie. Both looked harmless and I felt good. My body parts would still be attached for one more day.

  "Look at them." She whispered. "It's hard to believe my sister had vowed never to love again a year ago. But here she is, completely in love with the last guy I ever expected her to be in love with. Who knows how many times she's used that leather jacket to wipe her nose now?"

  "How romantic." I grimaced. "Haven't either one heard of a tissue?"

  "Ah, don't be mean. Dylan's being nice and Rory can't help her herself sometimes." She explained. "I've told the girl to carry a handkerchief with her but no dice. Oh well, it's a good thing he isn't the kind to get pissed once his jacket is ruined."

  "I'm not either. I mean, if you ever chose to use my jacket or sleeves as tissue." I assured her. "I was just...ah, forget it. If they're happy, why am I bitching? Right?"

  "You're not bitching. You're curious how the hell they work." She said. "Kind of like how I'm curious about us."

  "What about us?"

  "I told you that if we were together, I might like you. I might love you. And you know what, I think this still the truth. You're all right, Anwar. Hell, you're perfect."

  "Hardly. I still pick my nose and belch in public without excusing myself."

  "Me too!"

  "You two are gross." Aurora murmured from somewhere in Dylan's chest. Her face was buried in her boyfriend's body, she wiped her nose on his jacket sleeve, and she was calling me gross? Weirdo.

  "Yeah, it's just a part of human body functions, Rory." Rachel said. Then she turned to me. "Look, I had a great time meeting your family. You're a good cook too. I look forward to our next outing and learning more about Indian culture."

  "So do I." This was honest. I was enjoying the moments that we were spending together. “I like teaching all about my culture and everything else in between. From what it seems like, my mother and my cousin like you too. Especially Neela. I guess she was happy that there was someone who wasn't goading her about liking Twilight.”

  “You're so mean to her.” She pretended to hit me. “Let her have her obsessions and fun.”

  “Oh, I do. That doesn't mean she gets to be free from my teasing.”

  “I guess not. Oh well. Let's get to learning some facts!”

  “Yes, let's!” I nodded. “Come into the kitchen so we don't disturb them. We can discuss what to do next.”

  Rachel nodded and we went into the kitchen where she poured me a glass of water and we started to make a list of what needed to be done. There was knowledge of India that had to be covered along with the cooking lessons and basic etiquette like taking shoes off before entering a house. I had forgotten to tell her about it and had gotten an earful from my mother as a result.

  “So , what would you like to do today?” She wanted to know. “I mean, cooking lessons were great and all. But I want to know a little bit more. I want more than how to make a good butter chicken. Like what exactly is Indian life? You got anything like that?”

  Anything like that? There was plenty like that. She had to get more specific or else I would have to take her to India so she could see for herself. I lacked the funds at the moment and the time. Not to mention I didn't know if Rachel had a passport and visa to begin with. So I had to find a cheaper, quicker way to get her into Indian life.

  Then it hit me.

  "How about we watch a movie?" I suggested. I had brought along some good stuff as well some crap for us to waste time on.

  "Great. What do you have?"

  "Oh, the usuals. Star Wars, Disney movies, The Godfather series..."

  "No, I meant, what kind of Indian movies do you have? I figured I should get my knowledge on some Indian pop culture too."

  Ah, Indian movies. She wanted to dive into the world of Bollywood. "Depends. What kind of movie do you like? One with lots of romance, one with a ton of action, or one that screws with your mind in more than one way?"

  "Try all of the above."

  "And I've got plenty of those." I looked through the DVDs I had brought along. I found one of those gems that was entertaining and frightening and popped it in. "It's not The Mahabharata but you'll love it all the same."

  Well, I wasn't sure about how much she would love it but I knew it would entertain me. Crazy schemes, bad guys killing random bad guys for no reason, women screaming and dying, and of course, song and dance with several costume and scene changes. I curled up next to her and we watched the opening sequence, which was a song and dance set in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and The Taj Mahal. Same song in all three places, different verse in each one. Ah, how I loved Bollywood. I loved how it rarely made sense and I loved how much fun I could poke at it. I was so glad that my mother had so many different kinds of movies. This way, I could show her a little more of the pop culture and show her how ridiculous we could be.

  "How many outfits does this girl have?" Rachel asked.

  "More than I could ever afford, that's for sure."

  "Yeah, no kidding. Sure wish I had a wardrobe as big as hers though. I mean , ten outfit changes for one song? Wow!"

  “You should see the later songs and how many wardrobe changes take place during that!”

  “I believe you.” She laughed. “Do people really like this?”

  “Oh yeah. We never did claim to be great filmmakers though.”

  “Hey, whatever floats your gondola.” Then she frowned. “You guys do have gondolas, right? I hope I'm not being offensive. You know I would never try to do that. I'm just way too new at all this and I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

  “No, you aren't and yeah, we are aware of what they are.” I patted her hand. “Now come on. Focus on the story. The bad guys are about to burst through a concrete wall!”

  She saw the scene was I talking about. “Holy shit! How is that possible?”

  “It's Bollywood, baby. Anything is possible.”

  “Yeah, he breaks concrete and doesn't have a scratch on him!”

  The fight sequence turned out to be even better. Rachel giggled anytime the main guy started punching up bad guys. The weird punching sounds had her in fits of laughter and she almost rolled off the sofa. She was more impressed by the fact that no one really got injured in these fights. They just stopped fighting when they were done. We watched bad guys falling and not dying for the next couple of minutes. The dramatic music made it all worthwhile.

  “Christ, this is beautiful!” She squealed, watching the main guy through thr ow a bad guy off a bridge. “Now I know this is a stupid question but does this really happen in India?”

  “Not like that. I haven't flung many people off bridges as of late.”

  “I bet you broke through concrete walls though.”

  I snorted into my water. “More like broke my body if I tried that.”

  Once that fight sequence was over, a dance sequence started. And, like I had told Rachel, there were more wardrobe and scenery changes. This time, it was a dance sequence in what looked like everywhere in Australia. How they went from fighting in India to Australia, I did not understand. I prayed that Rachel would not ask me to figure this out. I had been watching Hindi movies since I was two and I still could not explain a story like this well enough to myself. To her, it would be Hell.
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  “The girl is pretty.” She admitted. “Then again, there are a lot of pretty girls in this movie. What is your secret?”

  “How would I know? I'm not a girl.”

  “Still, you have to know some stuff. Doesn't your mother tell you?”

  “Why would she tell me her beauty secrets? I have no interest in them.” She frowned at me so I shrugged. “It's true! I just throw on clothes and cologne and deodorant and run out the door.”

  “You don't even brush your hair?”

  “Okay, I sometimes stop to do that.”

  “You are so silly.” She clicked her tongue before turning back to the movie. “Holy crap, how did they get to Paris again? Weren't they there before?”

  “It's Bollywood. Time does not matter here.”

  “Yeah, neither does common sense.” She giggled. “Okay, I can see why you guys make these movies. They might not be stellar but they are sure as hell entertaining. So when does the romance start in this? I see action and I see singing and I see time travel that is otherwise impossible.”

  “Very soon. In fact, he's already in love. He's about to find out a horrible truth.”

  Sure enough, I was right. The horrible truth was that the bad guys had broken into his house (while he was singing in Australia, no doubt) and killed his current girlfriend. She lay dying in a pool of blood, her sari half opened and thrown about on the floor. The main good guy then raised his fists at the ceiling and cursed out the main bad guy's name. Then he said the one line that had tears rolling down Rachel's cheeks: “I will rip your calendar to shreds!”

  “What in the name of...” She could not finish her sentence because she was crying too hard. The line did her in. If nothing else, she had lost it and probably could not finish the movie. It didn't matter though because I was laughing too.

  “He will do what now?!” She managed to get out.

  “Rip his calendar to shreds, duh!” I chuckled, helping her sit up straight. “Come on. You have to see that happen. You want to see him take it out on the pages of the bad guy's calendar!”

  “Oh, I need to see that. Any more songs in the mix?”

  “It's a Bollywood film. Chances are high that there will be a few more songs between now and the ripping of the calendar.”

  “Yeah, I should have figured.” She calmed down with her laughter and we continued to watch. “You know, I haven't laughed this hard since the time Callum peed on that stage. The audience stuff was so uncalled for but the stage piss job was fabulous. Yeah, it was gross but so funny at the same time. I don't think he had any clue what he was saying or doing that night. And what's worse, I don't think the main guy in this movie does either.”

  “Well, there's going to be no peeing in this movie.” I said. “But there will be a lot of drinking later so we can be assured that something like that happened.”

  “Some reassurance! But I'm serious.” She gave a sincere smile. How did I know that? I only had to look in her eyes to figure it out. “Thanks for making me laugh after such a long time.”

  “No need to thank me. Thank the actor for saying a ridiculous line even more ridiculously.”

  “Yeah, but you dug the movie up.” She leaned against me, her hair brushing against my shoulder. “This was a good idea. I know it's not exactly what happens in India but at least I have an idea of what people like.”

  “That's what the point of this torture was.”

  “It's not torture. I'm laughing, right?” She giggled. “So either we have different definitions of torture or you really don't know what the word means.”

  “You're watching this for the first time. After twelve times, it starts to get more boring.”

  “Get out of here!”

  “I'm serious. Now quiet! You're going to miss an amazing part!”

  I was afraid that she would get bored of the movie and ask me to turn it off. But that was not where the laughter ended, oh no. If the line made Rachel laugh, the following fight scene almost made her crap herself. The fight was as bad as the others with the same dramatic music and sounds. Only this time, they were fighting on a golf course and in moving golf carts. So not only were fists and legs being throw about but so were clubs, tees, and golf balls. There was one scene where the main guy was flinging another guy around while the golf cart was still moving around the course. Rachel curled up in a ball at that scene and went on hooting and giggling into her knees.

  "This does not happen in India for real. You sure about that?" She asked when her laughter died down a bit.

  "I have yet to see this happen anywhere."

  "I think I will literally crap myself if this happens. The only time I've come close to doing that was when Cal threatened to pee on a protester at his concert."

  I edged away at that. "I'm sure that's a story for another day."

  "Yeah. Now let's keep watching. I wanna see if the bad guy gets his calendar ripped into shreds." She took the remote from me and hit the play button. We had paused on a moment where the good guy took a bad guy's arm and was beating another bad guy with it while the golf cart was in motion. The frozen image was rather hilarious; an arm that had no spots of blood going down on a guy that looked barely beaten. The look on the main good guy's face was funny too. He was beating someone up yet he looked constipated.

  "Jesus Christ, I'm going to die laughing before we see a calendar go boom here, aren't I?" She asked. “I swear that this is my new favorite movie!”

  "If you do, you won't see the damage they do to that guy's calendar. Especially on February. Damn short month." I shook my head. “And it's not a leap year calendar either. The bastard.”

  She snorted out her drink and I joined in soon after. That unfortunately woke the lovebirds up so we decided to go over to my place and finish the film. Leave them to love making. We had to see calendars of life being ripped to shreds in silence. At home, I popped the DVD in and forwarded to where we had left off.

  My father got in the house at that moment and closed the door hard behind him. It was enough to make me pause the video and see what he had to complain about. He was a professor of physics at the university and he had tons of stories to tell when it came to college students. How lazy they were, how little respect they had for elders, why too many of them were getting their hair dyed and bodies pierced, and so forth. These days, he worked later hours and sometimes worked nights at the office. With the job market being as bad as it was, he wanted to make every penny count. I had to admit that I missed him so I was glad to see him despite him being in a bad mood. This would be the first time he would actually get to meet Rachel. I could only hope that he approved of her the way my mother did.

  "Oh no! What is with the traffic outside?" He complained.

  I took a quick peek out the window and saw that the streets were quiet and empty save for a few cars that went by. "There's no traffic, Appa."

  "I mean on the roads! The highway! Three lanes blocked! It is difficult to squeeze through! I tell you, if I was not a respectable man, I would jump over those cars and rip the balls_" That was when he noticed Rachel gaping at him in amusement and shock. "My apologies. I was not meaning to interrupt."

  "Oh, it's okay." She said. "We weren't watching anything important. Just this movie that's getting weirder and weirder by the minute."

  My father caught a shot of the scene I had frozen. "Oh, this is one of my favorite movies!"

  "Yeah, I can see why. It's very entertaining."

  "Not only that, it is a beautiful story."

  "True. It's not every day you find people beating other people up with torn limbs from a moving golf cart." I smirked.

  “I do not mean that, Anwar.” He looked back at Rachel. “And I take it that you are the fiancee fiancée ?”

  “Yeah, that's what they are calling me these days.” She shook his hand. “Rachel Morgan. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sharma. Anwar's told me a little about you.”

  “All good, I hope.”

  “All good.” She assured him. “So
you teach physics?”

  “For the most part. Unfortunately, I teach it to monkeys.” He sighed. “And I have seen smarter monkeys in India. At least they can show me how potential energy is converted into kinetic energy!”

  Have I mentioned that my father is the greatest human being in the world? My mother was great too and I loved both my parents. But I loved how candid my father could be. He had no qualms in talking about his life and he didn't back down from anything. I had a feeling that I had gotten this trait from him. Unlike my mother, he did not hesitate when he first sa w y Rachel. Then again, he saw many students with colored hair and piercings. She was probably nothing new to him.

  “Sounds like when I used to be in college.” She joked.

  “You went to college?” I asked.

  “Yeah, silly. I told you, remember?” She nudged me in the rib and I nodded. I forgot that I had to keep playing the fact that I had known Rachel for a while. “I went to college and majored in marketing. Not that it has helped me with getting a good job.”

  “Yes, the economy is a shame. What a shame.” My father shook his head. Then he waved at us and started to head upstairs. “It is very nice meeting you, my dear. I hope I shall see you soon.”

  “See you later, Mr. Sharma.” She waved back at him. Once he was gone upstairs, she turned to me. “You need to be quicker on your feet, sugar.”

  “More like quicker on the brain.” I murmured. “Come on, let's just finish the movie. You want to see a dead calendar, don't you?”

  “Yes, sir! Let's finish this bad boy!”

  The movie got slower after the golf cart fight and more romance came in between good guy and bad guy's girlfriend. I could find Rachel holding onto my arm during those parts. The song and dance sections for them weren't bad. At least they were not doing a hundred scene and wardrobe changes in them. I had to admit that those were my favorite s parts in this whole thing. Namely because they weren't dumb and also because Rachel was holding me. I barely noticed the fact that her arms were around me. Had she done the old yawn and put arm around date routine? Wow, I didn't fall for it. The movie had warped our minds.

 

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