Secrets We Kept
Page 21
Lacey recovered and introduced Rebecca as though their violent exchange had never happened. Doh be shy Becca. Deez Jamal, de one ah does tell you bout all de time, gyul. But Rebecca heard the forced lightness in her voice. They still stood among the debris of her purse. His smile made her insides stiffen. In the shadows of the hallway, they couldn’t read each other’s faces. Lacey dropped to the floor to pick up her things. Jamal loomed above her. When Rebecca tried to help her, Jamal said, Lacey ah remembah yuh tellin meh bout she. Come nah gyul, lemme see yuh in de light. Lacey urged them outside, assuring them she would be right behind.
He walked slowly at her back, creating distance between them. How yuh hair so shaht? She didn’t respond. Wah happen toh yuh? Yuh kyant tawk? She felt his eyes roving her body. By the time they exited the corridor, she could hear Lacey panting along behind them. He sneered, then smiled. Lacey appeared next to him, and he slung his arm across her shoulders. Lewwe goh home, gyul. Sombody hah toh watch dem pickney. Something he saw made her no longer visible. What made him think of her when it came to Shiva, she’d never know.
For the occasion of Kartik (though Jamal was Muslim and didn’t celebrate Hindu customs), he had donned a red sash tied into a knot around his head, the two ends drifting to his waist. Upon closer inspection, Rebecca recognized the sash as an orni veil taken from a shalwaar kameez outfit, but didn’t say anything to Lacey. She looked to the cluster of girls kicking their feet into the air, spraying dust everywhere, the same group Jamal had just been standing with. A young girl of fourteen or fifteen stood still staring at Jamal and Lacey. Rebecca couldn’t help but notice that while all this girl’s friends and family had ornis tied diagonally across their bodies, she now had none. What could Jamal have possibly said to this girl to have her pining after him with her teenage eyes opened wide? How long had Jamal even been with them? How could Lacey ignore the young girl’s veil now around Jamal’s head? Or did she know it and couldn’t say anything about it? The actions of these men and the blind acceptance of women tormented her. Was this what would be expected of her?
Aye Becca gyul, wah appenin? Long time no see. Yuh like de Indian festivities? She nodded. Lacey shook her hips to the elaborate music. Rebecca was dying to ask about Shiva but waited for Jamal or Lacey to bring him up.
Lewwe goh an dance nah, Becca? Lacey was in a party mood. Lewwe goh and rub dem up, kick we bamsee in de air. From the little of Hinduism that Rebecca knew, Kartik was a holy month for these people. Her dress was out of place. She was out of place.
Neither Lacey nor Jamal cared that they were intruding upon a time of renewal. Though their eyes constantly scanned the crowd, they didn’t see the unwelcomed stares that lingered on them from passersby. It was clear people knew they were outsiders. Jamal held Lacey by her neck, the hilt of his hand resting at its base. Every way he turned, she looked as well. People milled around them, carrying wicker baskets piled with freshly picked hibiscus, lotus, marigold, jasmine, and chameli flowers. Their glass bangles clinked with the swaying movement of their arms. The women who carried the flowers were matrons of their households, and they held their chins high.
There was a flutter of motion around Rebecca. Jamal moved away from them to embrace someone. Lacey grabbed Rebecca around the waist and hissed, He hyah, Becca, look he hyah. Her breathing quickened as she waited for Jamal to step aside. The arms encircling Jamal were covered in white sleeves; the fingers were smooth and dark, the nails well groomed. They let go and Jamal revealed Shiva. He introduced Lacey and Rebecca in one breath.
Shiva was statuesque, broad shoulders draped with an intricate sherwani, the proper formal wear for a man. The long coat over the kurta fell just below his knees, the edges of it embroidered with fine gold thread and its matching gold buttons fastened all the way up to its Nehru collar. Beneath was a pair of white churidar, tight-fitting trousers, the edges also stitched. Patterns of waves lifted and curled in crests diagonally across his chest. A thick sash, matching the sherwani in texture and detail, was hung around his neck and folded flat along his front. His hair was thick and black, each strand straight and oiled back. His skin was the same color as his hair and just as shiny. His face was long and drawn downward, the creases around his mouth prominent. When he looked at Lacey and Rebecca, he didn’t smile but nodded his head curtly in their direction, his angular jaw stiff.
Rebecca stood frozen, unsure of whether to smile or step forward and extend her hand. In the end, she did neither. Shiva and Jamal started wending their way down to the water’s edge. When Lacey followed behind them, Rebecca figured there was nothing else to do but follow as well. A hibiscus flower fell from a woman’s basket as they were walking. Jamal bent to retrieve it. Its petals were ivory with a purple-stained center. Sand stuck to the pollen even though Jamal tried to shake it off. With an exaggerated flourish, he planted the blossom behind Lacey’s right ear. She giggled. Rebecca looked to Shiva, hoping he would smile or do something of the same for her. In the time she stopped to watch them, Shiva never glanced back. He was already about thirty feet ahead of them, becoming one with the crowd.
Rebecca rushed past them. The next time she glimpsed him, water was already lapping his dark feet. She wanted to call out his name but refused to draw attention to herself. She hurried forward, hoping she reached him before he started his descent into the water’s depths. By the time the sand swept the bottoms of her feet, a pundit was praying over his head and he was already waist deep in the sea.
The waves were small on this side of the island, which made entering and exiting the ocean easy. Women emerged with a smile and men with a look of determination. Their clothing was soaked, the flowers in their hair damp and drawn, but their belief in the power of the cleansing water superseded all. Fathers and mothers showed signs of reverence with their palms pressed together, their lips forming the word Namaste, their bodies bowed at the waist. They rose from the waters seamlessly, swells of waves lifting them as they glided from the sea. Girls and boys fought the surge, delving into the waters and surfacing with as much vigor. They kicked and slapped their way out, laughter erupting from their throats, laughter that blanched when they were in view of a pundit again.
Shiva walked past the pundit, his arms spread, fingers trailing the surface of the sea. Neck-high in water, he raised both arms to the sky, pressed his palms together, and brought them down to his chest. After a few minutes with his head bowed in prayer, he sank below the water. When he resurfaced, he searched the water with his hands to retrieve the shawl that floated away from around his shoulders. Walking back to shore, he held his head high. The pundit blessed him again as he walked by, and he nodded his head in acknowledgment. His heavily embroidered clothing clung to his body, his movements dragging and deliberate.
When he reached the shoreline, he approached a group of women gathered around the silver and gold thaali platters. Each served a different purpose: some for burning incense, some for flowers, several for food offerings, and one for prayers. Shiva directed himself to the eldest woman, possibly the grandmother or great-grandmother of the family gathered around her. Curious eyes did not slant and follow his actions, for he was welcomed here. He was one of them. He knelt before an elder—the woman wrapped in white—touched her exposed feet with both hands, then pressed his hands to his head and heart. He kept his head inclined until she leaned forward and cupped his cheeks in her gnarled hands. Her orni slipped from her hair, unveiling white and wispy strands. They exchanged Namaste before they began to talk animatedly.
Over the various strains of music and the gentle rolls of waves, Rebecca heard only fragments of a conversation she couldn’t understand. She buried her feet in the smooth sand, feeling a layer of coolness beneath the heat. Sounds from his mouth intrigued her, and she listened in surreptitiously. He was speaking Hindi.
—All ah tinkin een dat time, my grandmother tells me, is oh Gawd meh faddah hah toh be happy bout dis. Meh muddah too. See, foh we, it wuddah be like ah was movin up. Improvin de bloodli
ne. Meh chilren and dem wouldn’tah problems like me.
She continued to watch as he turned to other members of the woman’s family, introduced himself, and conversed so easily with them all. He gestured toward the thaalis, a question stitched across his calm face. Two young girls raised the platters, obscuring her line of view with little mounds of food. He kissed the tops of their heads and scooped food into his left palm. With his right, he breached their circle and chose three flowers. One of the flowers he tucked into the old woman’s hair. She smiled, spaces where teeth were once rooted, now a black gap.
Shiva turned back to the water. He walked in ankle deep and knelt again. Rebecca hoped one of the flowers was for her. The food he littered in a line in front of him and waited for the water to claim it. When the currents receded, he placed both stemless flowers in a shallow pool of water at his feet. Something curled up within her, but she suppressed it. Within seconds, the sea claimed them too. He leaned back on his knees, his folded legs resting on the curve of his toes. The stark whiteness of the bottoms of his feet against the black of his skin disturbed the pastels of the sunset.
He stood. Water rushed off his clothes. He walked to her. His dark eyes stared at her. She looked down, fiddled with her fingers, clasped them behind her back, and wiggled her toes. She looked for Lacey and Jamal, but they were lost in the swell of people behind her.
Rebecca shifted her gaze from the wet sand clinging to the bottom half of his pants to the water droplets pearled along the oil on his hair that now hung in strings around his face. There was an amoeba-shaped birthmark along his right cheekbone. It was raised, and the cool wind on his wet skin pimpled it. He stood close to her, his breath cooling her scalp.
Not knowing what he was waiting for her to do, she felt pressured and bent to dust sand from his knees and shins. He waited for her to finish before saying, Meh slippahs ovah dey. His matching sherwani shoes were neatly paired together. She picked them up and shook sand from the sequins as she returned to him. But he didn’t make a motion to take them, and she felt she was being tested, so Rebecca stooped to place the correct shoe in front of the correct foot. After he slipped both feet into them, he strode away, up the steady incline from the beach to the road. She scrambled after him, her insteps sliding sideways on the sand. Not once did he turn around to check and see if she was still following him.
Lacey and Jamal were leaning on the steel barriers at the road. Lacey was playing with Jamal’s hair while Jamal buried his feet in the sand. When the men saw one another, Jamal shook Lacey off and called out to Shiva, Aye bruddah, you gone een de watah den? Shiva nodded at him and then signaled that he had to go. So soon? Yeh eh evan goan enjoy de festivities, bruddah? Dance up and ting widdese young gyul? Shiva shook his head. He told Jamal that he would drive Rebecca home.
Rebecca’s heart fluttered. She looked to Lacey, who was oblivious to their conversation. She wanted to mouth to her, Oh gaadoi, e rheally hah cah, but Lacey never looked her way. Their goodbye was brief and ended with a hug and a slap on the back. The couple waved to Rebecca as they trotted along the highway. Again, Shiva turned and strode away, the heavy movement of his damp clothes murmuring as he led the way to his car.
Having never been in or near a vehicle before, Rebecca approached it curiously, awed by its beauty. Shiny. Black. Spotless. Her clothes were dirty; her hair was sandy. She felt filthy and in need of a shower. He caressed the door before unlocking it. A whiff of Pine-Sol and lemon wafted over her.
—Mistah Shiva di assess meh from de moment e lay eyes on meh chile, says my grandmother, meh know dat now. A young gyul like me so? Only sixteen Krystal. Leg like tree stump, tough ahms, and broad back. No shoes, meh dress dutty dutty dutty from de fiels, meh hair kinky. E know ah was somebody toh wok like ah horse. Boh meh know from Lacey e hah house, lan, and motohcah. So e din know ah was usin im too.
He extracted two towels from the bowels of his trunk and tucked them around the front seats. He settled himself in and motioned for her to join him, but Rebecca stood there unsure of what to do. He reached over and rolled down his window. Opan it widdee door handle. Push dung de button wid yuh tumb fingah. Circling her fingers around the door handle, she felt the warmth of the silver from sitting in the evening sun. She yanked, but it didn’t open. Press de damn button. Using her thumb, she pushed down on the button, and the mechanism released the door. It swung toward her, and she had to jump out of the way.
Rebecca clambered into the car and pulled the door shut with a touch too much vigor. The car shook, and silence followed. Afraid to look at him, she stared straight ahead. He slid the key into the starter and peeled onto the highway, spraying gravel and sand in their wake.
THEY ENTERED THE VILLAGE of Coal Mine after the sun had set and darkness had settled in an amorphous mass around them. She directed him where to go. There was no path in her tiny village where a car could pass, so he dropped her off as close to home as possible. The whites of his eyes floated in the night. They said goodbye to one another. She fumbled with the handle before tripping out of the car. Without a backward glance, he drove away.
Rebecca was late. She was usually home before the sun set. With the excitement of the day simmering down, fear seeped in once again. Her father would beat her for this. He would rouse the whole village from their homes for a show. As frightened as she was, her mind strayed to Shiva’s clothes, how beautiful they were, and the sophisticated way he carried himself.
There was a flicker of light through the window. Only now Rebecca wondered what time it was, recalling she was supposed to have accompanied her mother to her uncle’s wake. Inside, her brothers and sisters were seated around the only table they owned. Her father was standing by the door, his eyes ablaze.
Where de ass yuh find yuhself? Yuh class done finish hours ahgo. Yuh fohget yuh was suppose toh be hwome toh take yuh muddah toh de wake? From years of confrontation with her drunken father, Rebecca knew silence was the best option. Yuh eh goh say nutten? Yuh goh geh lix een yuh muddahass till yuh loosen dat tongue. Rebecca edged back to the door. Her brother wouldn’t look at her, and her sisters gulped in her embarrassment with delight. Who was dat mahn who drop yuh hwome? Silence. He unbuckled his belt. Yuh bettah say fass. In one smooth motion, he whipped the belt from his waist and folded it in half. He cracked it, and the sound was so sharp they jumped collectively. Dis eh de only ting ah goh cut yuh ass wid, yuh know. Kamal goan bring meh ah guava whip from oudside.
Kamal stood to go and get the whip, and Rebecca shrieked, Pappy, it was ah taxi, ah taxi. He glowered at her and signaled for Sonia, her younger sister, to come to him. In Sonia’s hand was a piece of paper. Yuh sistah was smaht enough toh take dung de license plate. Dat wasn’t no taxi, yuh nasty, stinkin, dutty liah! Who cah yuh come hwome een? Wah mahn yuh gone bullin?
For the first time, Rebecca did not cry, nor did she want to. She stood upright, her back to the hairy boards of their one-room house. She knew what was coming next. He’d accuse her of all the salaciousness his intoxicated mind could conjure and call her names no father should ever utter to a daughter—jagabat and wahjang oman. Eventually he’d fling the door open and tell her to get out of his sight, she was too shameful for his eyes. All eight other households in Coal Mine would come alive to see their drunken neighbor drag his daughter down the steps by her neck. Sometimes he thrashed her and left her on the barren dirt to crawl back inside, and other times he stood on the steps and addressed everyone in their village. Allyuh see dis ungrateful bitch of ah dawtah? He was mortified, he continued, that such a tragedy had sprung from his loins. Her mother never ran to help or protect her. Instead she chose to block the eyes and ears of her other children inside.
Rebecca’s oasis was her drive home with Shiva today. She’d found the straying of his hand from the gearbox to her thighs exhilarating. Coolness cascaded over her. A pleasant sensation pooled below her hips. His hands moved from the stick to her leg, back and forth, tugging her dress up her thighs, never stopping.
In the middle of his tirade, Rebecca wrenched her neck from his grasp. Yuh wahn meh toh leave? she asked. Shock stopped him for an instant. He slapped her. Her head reeled to one side, her cheek stinging. Get out! Get out yuh bitch yuh! Faces were already pressed to windows, and some people had their doors wide open. With her back straight and her head high, Rebecca walked down the steps. Her father stumbled behind her.
She’d go to Lacey’s, she thought. And wait there until they could get in touch with Shiva for her. With a plan in place, maybe it was a good thing her father was kicking her out now. He hurled so many words at her, but nothing penetrated. The only person she thought of was Shiva. His name fluttered her breast.
She walked through the darkness until it swallowed her.
She walked until her father’s voice was an echo of the past.
She never looked back.
DAYS
REBECCA TRUDGED ALONG the Eastern Main Road for miles. She passed fields, orchards, and groves, until she reached settlements and towns. Stones were embedded in her feet, wedged deep in her cuts. She was searching for Lacey and Jamal’s house.
Her thighs began to tremble, and numbness spread to her knees, shins, and ankles. Her back ached. Doubt seeped in. How would Lacey and Jamal react to her showing up on their doorstep in the middle of the night? Did Shiva even want to see her again? Thoughts and pain mingled. She stopped for a breath, kneading a spasm in her side.
Up ahead raucous laughter spilled through the open doors of a rum shop. She passed it, and eyes slid over her. Their flat was right off the main road. There was no verandah, no backyard, no grass. She knocked on the door. Footsteps slapped concrete. She hoped Lacey was coming. Jamal answered the door with a baton within his grasp. He called for Lacey and disappeared into the shadows. When Lacey saw Rebecca, she squealed and hugged her as though she hadn’t seen her in weeks.