The Story Hour

by Thrity Umrigar

  But he make a tall face. His eyes look tired, confuse. “I don’t know what happened, Lakshmi. Everything was so clear in my head when I picked up the phone. Then it all got jumbled and nothing came out right. She finally hung up. And I’ve called three or four times since then, but she hasn’t called me back, so I guess it’s over.” Then he laugh, but it sound like two piece of coal rub together. “Who am I kidding? It’s been over for more than a year. Right?”

  I shake my head yes but I confuse. What is so hard about saying sorry? What so hard about telling Maggie he make mistake? Why these educated people make everything so puzzle? Then I has an idea. “You go to the California, Sudhir babu. You go and bring Maggie home.”

  He get a look on his face I never see before. He look like Mithai when I am making him do something he not wanting to do. Except Sudhir babu not kicking dust and stamping his foot the way Mithai do. Instead, his eyes turn hard. “I think I’ve humiliated myself enough,” he say. “Anyway. It’s better this way. You know what they say—you can’t go home again.”

  This is truth. Look at me. Seven years in Am’rica and I not go home one time. But Sudhir babu not having the husband who not allow him to go. And Maggie not so far away as Dada and Shilpa. Then I knows what stopping Sudhir babu. It something bigger than husband or plane ticket. It is gamand. He being prideful. Every year when I stands first in my class, Ma gives me the advice: Daughter, she say, never be gamandi. What you have, given to you by God. You just a basket into which God puts the flowers. Flowers not belong to you. They belongs to God. Same way, your clever belong to God.

  But I cannot tell Sudhir babu to not be prideful. He is a man. He my elder. So I get up and start putting dirty bowls in the dishwasher. He sit in the kitchen, quietly eating. But then Janice come into the kitchen and ask me to bring out the bottles of the champagne wine. I open the fridge and take out the bottles. “Come on, Sudhir,” she say. “It’s almost time for the ball to drop.” He smile at Janice, put down his plate, and walk toward me. “I’ll help you,” he say, and smile again. He take a few of the bottles and I carries the others to the dining room. I looks for Rekha, but so many people, I not sees her.

  Some of the mens go out on back porch and open the bottles. They sound pop-pop as they opens. Then they fills plastic glasses. The champagne look like soap bubble. Sudhir babu picks up a glass. “Will you have some?” he ask me, but I shake my head. I am remindering the first time I tastes the daru when I tries the suicide.

  “Lakshmi, what’s wrong?” Sudhir babu say.

  “It hot here, no? So many peoples. I think I go to kitchen.”

  “But—”

  I goes. I hopes he not following me, but so many people there happy to see him, he having no chance.

  In the kitchen, I pull up stool and sit. I look at all the dirty dishes and I knows I cannot wash them tonight. Maybe I ask Rekha to stay and clean. I can pay her extra. I think of going home to bed and I yawns as if I already there. In a few minutes, I hear them in the other room. They are all saying, “Ten, nine, eight . . .” as if they childrens in school learning to count. Then I hears them cheer and say “Happy New Year” again and again. I wish Rekha would come in the kitchen now so I have someone to say “Happy New Year.” It already New Year in India and I think of Shilpa and pray for her and little Jeevan to be happy. And Maggie also. I know that in the California there is lots of sunshine, and I know we get mangoes from there that we sell in our store. And so I prays that Maggie always have life of sunshine and mangoes.

  Everybody in next room talking, laughing, cheering. I alone in this kitchen, and even though I knows husband waiting for me at home, I feels as if I am only person in this world. The people in the next room have their good English, they clever, they knows how to make the jokes, they live in big house like this one, they having good job, good marriage. They knowing what their nephew look like, they visit their sister and old father when they feels like. They not live in small apartment on top of store which smell of onions and garlic from restaurant below. I not living in the same country as them.

  And then I thinks, Only one other person here who as alonely as me. Only one person who also lose something and he also missing it. Only Sudhir babu share my pain. And I’s the person who build that pain for him.

  When I looks up, he is standing at the door to kitchen. He smile and his eyes is so kind. “Happy New Year, Lakshmi,” he say.

  “Happy New Year, Sudhir babu.”

  He take a sip from his glass, touch two fingers to his head, and go back into Janice’s living room. He only one who take the time to give me the greetings. Even Rekha not come.

  It is as Sudhir babu turn to leaf the kitchen to go back to the party that the idea come to me.

  41

  TIMBER LAKE IS only ten-minute walk from my apartment. I not knowing this until two month ago. Since I find out, I walking here every morning. I leaf my house at seven and walk for hour. So far, the snow not come this year but the ground is hard, like it prepare for snow. All the trees shivering in cold, like I does. Today I walks fast, to leaf behind the ugly words husband say to me yesterday. They flying loose in my mind, like kites during the Makar Sankranti festival.

  By the time I reach the bridge, I’s sweaty and I stops. This wood bridge my favorite stopping point. I lean on the railing and looks at the blue lake. The sun make it shine like a wedding. Far away, I can see the snow on the head of the mountain. The water look so peaceful, it take away the fever in my mind. I wants to be like this lake, I thinks. Peaceful. Quiet. Keeping its fishes and ducks and plants alive without complain. Without asking anything for itself. Like a mother.

  I walk from left side of the bridge to right. Here, Timber Lake become someone else. It jump over big rocks and become the waterfall. It run fast, loud, angry, like a goonda who wants to fight. This side make my heart beat fast, like loud music. This side like the teenager daughter. As the water falls below, it makes the splash which wet my face. The cold feel like someone slapping my face, asking me to wake up. I lean over the railing to feel more of the waterfall. Each slap remove the dead skin from my thoughts. The sound it make so loud, it cover up my husband’s words that I carries with me on my walk today.

  As Sudhir babu leaf the kitchen on New Year’s Eve, I gets an idea: I will go to the California. I will brings Maggie a letter from him telling that she must come back home. He will not go to her, so I must. I will also beg Maggie’s forgiveness for what I do. I will tell her, If you not forgiving me, Maggie, and return home, my soul be force to take endless rebirth in this ugly world. I have done the sin against you. Only you can pardon me. I not leaf the California until she come with me.

  The idea seem very good that night as I driving home. It also seeming very good when I wakes up next day. But when I mentions it to the husband while we taking our breakfast chai, he look shock.

  “You want to do what? You fly in plane only one time before, and you wants to fly to the California? And poke your nose in their business again?”

  “It become my business. I’s the reason they divorce. And Sudhir babu—”

  He slap the table so hard, the teacup jump. “Enough. Bas. No more nonsense talk. From now on, I forbid you to talk to that Sudhir babu. Or his randi wife.”

  I feels like he slap me when he calls Maggie that word. I feels so much angry, my eyes fill with tears. “Next time you use that word, I cut your tongue,” I say. “It’s okay for the mens to make big-big eyes at young women. But us women—we not allow. Maggie not loose woman. She good woman.”

  Then husband do something evil. He laugh. “If you make threat to me, Lakshmi, I takes you back to that madhouse hospital. And this time I leaf you there. Forever.”

  Something drop from my heart to my stomach. Is he telling the truths? Can he put me in the lockup again? Forever?

  Husband finish the rest of his tea. Now that he win, he make his voice soft again. “Chalo,” he say. “Enough of this crazy talk. Your place here, Lakshmi, with me. Now,
come on. Lots of work to do downstairs today.”

  I looks at the waterfall, and for one minute, I wishes I could get up on this railing and jump. I thinks of landing on the water, floating down the rocks until I drowns. No more worries, no more tensions. But then I stand straight. Lakshmi, I thinks, you has to chose. Who you? Who you wanting to be? Calm and steady lake or angry, tough waterfall? You wants to shelter and protect everybody like the lake, or you wanting to follow your own path, like waterfall? Lake will stand in one place, always. Waterfall go different places, always.

  For one minute, I is all alone on the bridge. I see other peoples out for early-morning walk but they far away. I stands in the middle. I close my eyes. I try to listen. The lake is quiet as death. The waterfall is noiseful like life.

  In one minute, I thinks of everything. How I save Munna from drowning. How I save Mithai from those wicked mens. How I save Shilpa. Ma I cannot save but I help. I have try to be the good person. But now it is time to save myself.

  I walk toward the waterfall. It sing as it jump down the rocks.

  I chose the life.

  I gets in the car and I phones Sudhir babu. He still sleeping but he answer the phone.

  “Sudhir babu? It Lakshmi.”

  “Huh? Wow. What time is it?”

  “It early. I needing something from you.”

  He awake now. “Sure. What? Are you okay?”

  “I’s fine. I going to the California. To meet Maggie. So I needs her address.”

  “What?”

  I repeat what I say.

  “I . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lakshmi. She’s—you know, angry. At you. In any case . . .”

  I shake my head. These mens. Why they’s always telling us what to do? “I’s going,” I shout. “To ask for her to forgive me. Also, to carry letter from you asking her to come home. To Cedarville.”

  He laugh. “What? Are you nuts? You don’t know Maggie. She’d . . .”

  I looks at my watch. Husband angry if I not home soon to help in store. Then I think: Husband angry once I tell him what I decide. So little angry, big angry, what difference it make? “Sudhir babu. Listen. I coming to your house in half hour. I pick up letter from you then. Also, address. Okay?”

  “Okay? No. Not okay. Look, this is—”

  He say more. But I cannot say what. Because I hangs up the phone.

  I look at the time. It is eight-fifteen. Rekha leaf her house soon. I call her next. Ask her to go on the online and find out how much ticket to the California cost. Where in California? Rekha ask, but I not know. Stupid, I tell myself. I will tell you later, I say. In meantime, I in your debt if you not mention to my husband. If Rekha surprise, she not say. Instead she say, No problem.

  Then Rekha say, “Didi? You okay? You sounding funny.”

  “Funny, how?”

  “I’m not sure. Different.”

  I smile. “I okay.”

  Rekha hear the waterfall in my voice.

  42

  FOR ONE WHOLE week, husband and I fighting nonstop. He say absolute no-never to me going to find Maggie. But I keeps thinking of the waterfall and I stay powerful. He make threat, he tell me I can no more call Shilpa, he say he will lie to doctor that I try the suicide again. Then new doctor will put me in lockup. But something happen when husband say this. He look ashame. His eyes move a little bit, his hand shake. I take notice and then, like the waterfall, I keeps moving. First I ask Sudhir babu to find out from Maggie’s friend if she in town this month. He tell her he wanting to send Maggie important parcel, so he need to know. Next Sudhir babu make me hotel reservation. I tell Rekha for which airport to find me ticket. Ticket is very costly. Rekha say to wait two week; she say cost come down then. But I having Sudhir babu’s letter in my purse. I having guilty feeling in my heart. So I gives Rekha eight hundred dollar from money I save from my business. And she buy ticket with her credit card. Then I pays Rekha sister to work in store while I gone. It January, so no catering orders this week, thanks God.

  Two day before I am to leaf, husband come to me. “You really going?” he say. “Who taking you to airport?”

  I surprise myself. “You is.”

  He give me bad look. “Don’t act smart,” he say. Then, “And who pick you up other side? How you getting to Maggie house?”

  He asking question I not know answer to. “I take the bus.”

  Now he make fun of me. “Take bus? Girl, you crazy. You think this is India, where buses go everywhere? California is rich people’s state. They don’t have buses. Know why? They don’t want peoples like you showing up to their expensive house.”

  I look away from him, not wanting him to see tears in my eyes. I do so much for this man; I takes care of his house and his business. Why he cannot help me? Why he acting like this? All his new love for me gone, like water that boil away from the pan. Why he have such hate against Maggie? She not doing anything bad to him. Instead she help him, by helping me.

  “I will manage.” I begins to walk away from him.

  “Listen,” he call, and I stop. “I already make the arrangement for you. My friend Ashok is cabdriver there. We use to drive cab for same firm in New York. Now, he having his own company. He will come pick you up.”

  This time I not ashame to let him see my tears. “This is true?” I take his hand and hold it up to my eyes. “Bless you.”

  “Okay, okay,” he say, embarrass. “No fuss.”

  Two days later, I gets out of the plane in San Diego airport. First thing I do is call husband. He stay on phone with me until I reaches the baggage claim area. There, I sees a man carry a cardboard with my name. “Namaste, ji,” I say.

  “Namaste, auntie.”

  “How you can drive the taxi with my husband? You is so young.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t me, auntie.” He laugh. “That was my dad. He’s busy, so he sent me. I’m Kishore.”

  As soon as we leaf the airport building, I knows I am in a different country. California is in Am’rica, but the air, the sunlight, the trees, all different than my state. It look more like India, except it having less dust, noise, and peoples. I wearing my heavy winter coat, but all the other passengers here look like birds—free and light, wearing slippers and short pant. We not even in Kishore’s car yet and already I feels new.

  Kishore put my suitcase in his car. He say we first go to hotel to drop the luggage. “Maybe you’d like some lunch?” he ask. “You must be starving.”

  I so hungry. But I also wanting to see Maggie. “I not wanting to waste more of your time, beta.”

  He laugh again. “Don’t be silly, auntie. Dad said I have the whole day with you. I’m at your service.”

  I have a thought that make my heart jump. If I have a son, maybe he be like Kishore. A boy full of smiles and laughing. I look at his beautiful face. “Okay, then. Maybe we eat some lunch first.”

  Hotel seem long distance from the airport. Kishore say nothing is nearby in the California. But I enjoying this car ride. I lower window to feel the breeze on my face. It feel like freedom. I close my eyes for a few minute and then open again. From far away, I see a long blue ribbon. “What is that?” I say.

  “What, auntie?”

  “That.” I point. “That blue thing.”

  He turn to look at me. “Why, auntie. That’s the Pacific.”

  “Excuse?”

  “The Pacific. You know, the ocean?”

  I not understand. This ocean look as blue as heaven. But the ocean I see one time in Mumbai was gray in color. How this one so blue? I thinks about this for a minute. “Ocean is like birds,” I say. “All different-different color.”

  Kishore laugh. “I don’t know, auntie. This is the only one I’ve ever seen.”

  He make a turn and get on different road and then my eyes see such beauty that it almost make me blind. The ocean is light blue and it stretch more far than I can see. The sun play in the water like it is a child taking a bath. The sand is so gold, it shine like jewelry. The air sme
ll salty and my whole body feel relax, as if the California is giving me a massage. “Kishore,” I say. “Beta. This . . . is this the place where God live?”

  The boy laugh. “Everybody who comes here for the first time has the same reaction,” he say. “But yours is the most priceless, auntie.” His voice get soft. “But it is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  The hotel is beautiful also. The bed is beautiful. The man who bring my luggage to the room is beautiful (Kishore say he wait downstair to give me time to relax and get change in my room—what he mean?). The tile in bathroom beautiful. But you want to know the most magic part of the California? It make me feel beautiful.

  I washes my face and then go into my room to get fresh clothes from the suitcase. I sits on the edge of the bed and it feel so soft and comfortable. The pillow so white and fat, it make me sleepy. I think, I will rest my head for five minute only. Kishore tell me he in no rush. I close my eyes and first thing I see is the ocean. How the white wave look, like a thousand childrens doing flips in the water. How the air smell like salt. How it tickle my face, like Mithai use to do with his trunk.

  A loud sound in the room wake me up. I wake with a jatka, my heart going dhoom-dhoom. Where am I? In one second, I remember. But who in room with me? What is noise I hear?

  Then it happen again and I laugh. My stomach so hungry, it sound like a dog. That what wake me up.

  I look at alarm clock. It three in afternoon. Arre, Ram. That poor boy Kishore. What he thinking? What if he leaf? I goes washes my face second time, change into the short-sleeve kameez. I puts Sudhir babu’s letter in the pocket of my tunic, and then I goes downstair.

  “Hello, auntie.” Kishore near me as soon as I there. Poor boy wait for me while I sleeping like a maharani.

  “I’s so sorry, beta,” I say. “I so tired that—”

  He shake his head. “No problem, auntie. I told you to take as long as you liked, remember?” He stop to look at his watch and then say in Hindi, “Kya khaenge? Indian? Chinese? Mexican?”