“Your English is very good Master Peh,” Harriet said suddenly, exceedingly curious about the man across from her. “Have you been to Hong Kong?”
Peh nodded. “Thank you…my father insisted I study at an English school, though it’s been a long time now. My speech is…no longer as good as before.”
“Well I think you’re doing splendidly, much better than my Cantonese,” Harriet added with a little giggle. Her laugh surprised Ajit, but he kept his face carefully neutral. If he didn’t know any better he’d say Mum was flirting with the man.
“Thank you again,” Peh replied and took a sip of tea, carefully testing its taste and body with his tongue. It was very good, not as refined as the tea in Zhejiang, but then the plants were still very young. He knew that it took a good deal of aging before most tea plants produced truly succulent leaves and buds. In time he expected Darjeeling tea to compete with that from his home country, but that would not be for several generations. He wondered if all life got better with age. He glanced back up at the elderly English woman who’d brought him so far from his home. The woman was staring back at him intently with those bright blue eyes…familiar eyes, somehow.
Ajit watched in shock as Mum gazed frankly at Master Peh over the rim of her porcelain cup. She was clearly taken with the man, though she was easily old enough to be his grandmother. From his youth Ajit remembered Harriet to be a strikingly handsome woman, but now she was just a shrunken shell of her former self. Her hair was a thinning, lifeless gray and her skin was as translucent as wet paper hanging from her bones. It was only her eyes that never changed. They were still the same bright blue, and sharp as ever.
Still, young or not, making eyes at their distinguished visitor from China was a bit embarrassing. He was concerned that the Master of Teas would be offended by the silly actions of the lady of the gardens, but much to his surprise Master Peh was acting in the opposite fashion. He seemed to be enjoying the attention greatly.
They stared across at one another so long and deeply that both he and his son were at a loss as to how to proceed. Impatient, Jagjit cleared his throat again, loudly this time, making them both jump.
“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Harriet snapped.
“Sorry Mum,” Jagjit replied and shot a look at his father. Ajit just shook his head, signaling for patience. Harriet quickly turned her attention back to Master Peh.
“So Ajit tells me you will be leaving us on Friday?” Harriet asked innocently, half dreading the answer. Master Peh paused as Dipti and Ila, her helper in the kitchens, served a small salad filled with cabbage, nuts and fruits, all topped with a thick apricot sauce.
“Yes, Mrs. Wilson,” Peh replied and dropped his eyes to the salad placed before him. He was suddenly disturbed by the thought of leaving, although the reason for such melancholy eluded him. He was most anxious to get home to his family.
“Please…call me Harriet,” she said pleasantly as she tried to hide her own discomfort at the thought. Even though she knew the answer, somehow hearing the little man from China confirm the news brought a vague sense of loss.
Ajit frowned at the offer made to Master Peh. He would not dare call his Mistress by her given name. It was far too familiar, and would wrongfully elevate him to her level. Despite her lack of respect for conventions, such an act would be incredibly disrespectful. It was difficult enough for him to sit and eat with her out in the open like this, but Mum hated to eat alone and always insisted. Through the years he’d gotten accustomed to it, but his wife Dipti steadfastly declined.
Master Peh however, nodded slightly at the invitation, but said nothing for a time and just continued to sit and stare down at his salad. Jagjit believed the man to be embarrassed by the personal offer, but he was mistaken. Peh was pleased…surprisingly pleased.
Finally Harriet noticed the tension at the table and realized that Master Peh would not eat until she did, so she lifted her fork. “Please, enjoy the meal,” she told them all and at once everyone began to eat.
They enjoyed the salad in growing silence which caused Ajit and his son much discomfort, but neither Harriet nor Master Peh were aware of the ongoing strain that surrounded the afternoon meal. Harriet’s attention was riveted completely on the young foreign man…and old though she was, she could still tell that his full concentration was on her. It made her quite giddy, like a blooming young woman again, trying to attract a first love.
‘Preposterous really!’ She thought and tried to shake off the mood that had enveloped her so completely.
“Do you have any children Master Peh?” She asked, trying to restore a bit of sanity to her world and throw off the illusion of any real connection between them. In her mind, the easiest way to deal with the reality of the situation was to focus on the wife and family waiting for Peh back in Zhejiang.
“Please…Harriet, call me Donghai,” he answered impulsively, without knowing why, and felt a rush of excitement. He flushed with delight, saying her name for the very first time.
“Donghai…” Harriet stammered, completely losing her resolve as she stared keenly into the dark eyes of the man across from her. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might just give out, mortifying her completely. Nothing! Nothing could be more embarrassing to her now than dying in front of this man!
Again all conversation around the table stopped as Jagjit nervously pecked at the main dish while Ajit just stared off into the gardens, aghast.
“Yes,” Master Peh finally answered and though he was missing his children greatly, he found talking about his family was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment, “six,” he told her, “two boys and four girls.”
“Truly?” Harriet replied. “You seem far too young,” she commented and found that despite the small knot of jealousy growing in her stomach, she was truly happy for the man. A big family was a blessing. She’d had her son Roger of course, but his birth had been hard and she’d never been able to conceive again. At the time she’d been thankful, sure that another pregnancy would have meant her death, but now in her dotage and with the passing of her son, she longed for the children she never had. It made her quite sad at times.
Donghai nodded, warming to the subject despite his earlier hesitations. “The oldest is twelve and the youngest is not yet a year.”
“Wonderful!” Harriet exclaimed and her face lit up with a wide, beaming smile. Donghai caught his breath, abruptly able to see the beautiful girl trapped inside the ancient, withering body…and she was astoundingly beautiful.
He smiled back and suddenly felt completely at ease. Spurred on by her obvious interest, he opened up, which he rarely did, and told tale after tale of his children and their playful and exasperating antics. Harriet smiled and laughed encouragingly, and shared stories of her own lone son. Back and forth they went, telling one amusing anecdote after another, with an occasional poignant one thrown in for good measure. It wasn’t until much later that they both realized the meal was long over, the remains completely cleared away.
Ajit and his son were gone from the table, smoking quietly on the far end of the veranda, though when they left neither could say. Donghai glanced down toward the gardens and was somehow relieved to find it was still afternoon outside, though the sun had traveled far.
“Your family sounds just wonderful,” Harriet quietly said, suddenly dismayed that the special mood they’d shared was now over. She missed it dreadfully already.
“Master Peh…” she began, feeling strangely shy, “Donghai…would you care to share a dinner and a nightcap with me tomorrow evening?” She asked feeling a thrill at her own bravado and a slight hint of dread waiting for his answer.
Dispelling her fears, his face instantly lit up. “I’d love to Harriet,” he added quickly, happily, and she had no doubt at all that his feelings were sincere.
“Excellent,” she replied joyfully, though her heart dropped when he stood.
“Ajit!” She called louder than she intended, and then felt slightly asham
ed as he hurried across the porch. “Help me up,” she told him simply. He hesitated for just an instant, and then pulled out her chair.
Harriet pushed herself up, standing shakily on her bony, age-wasted legs. She willed them to remain strong, and after a few seconds the tremors stopped. She could stand and did so every day, but with the passing of time she did so less and less frequently, and now not without constant support.
She shuffled carefully out from behind the table and held out a hand to her new friend and confidant. Master Peh watched with eyes full of pride and just a little sadness, and then he took her hand and gently kissed it English style. Harriet’s heart fluttered at the touch of his lips and she smiled, quite glad now she’d stood to see him off.
“Until tomorrow,” Master Peh said softly, surprising both Ajit and his son.
“Until tomorrow,” Harriet replied and for the first time in as long as she could remember she had something to look forward to.
♀
That night Harriet dreamt of her children denied. They surrounded her in her small home. She had a little one at her breast, while a host of others scurried around underfoot. It was a dream of longing despite the happy children, for her husband was away, and had been for a long time. She missed him terribly and wanted him to return and never leave her again. She waited. She waited near the hearth while she cooked over an open fire, she waited while she cleaned her children’s clothes, and she waited in her bed. Finally, she waited by the door, gently bouncing the little one in her arms as she stared out at an empty and desolate landscape…and then he was there, her husband, her love. She ran forward, the baby in her arms suddenly gone. Happily they came together hugging and kissing, and kissing, and when he finally pulled away Harriet was not surprised in the least that her husband was Donghai Peh.
Without hesitation she pulled her tired and road-worn man to the bedroom where they made love again and again and again. The dream was beautiful and happy, and went on far longer than most, but tragically Harriet finally awoke, old and all alone in her bed in Darjeeling.
Once she realized where she was Harriet snapped her eyes closed once more, desperately wanting to return to her dreams. She tried to sleep but it was not to be, she was trapped once again in her weak and aged body. The dreamy feelings of love and contentment hung over her however, and she snuggled down into her warm bed. She stayed there, wrapped in her memories, until finally Dipti came and roused her out…and then the waiting started all over again.
♀
It’d had already grown dark by the time Jagjit returned to the big house with Master Peh; this time he let him out of the carriage before turning it toward his own home, which was situated closer to the tea factory. He rode off with a wave to Mrs. Wilson and a promise to pick Master Peh up later, after the evening meal. Before he left for the evening, Ajit saw to it that the lanterns were lit…all the lanterns, not just those on the porch. The estate was alight like a coming celebration with paper lanterns glowing all down the drive and along the walk that led to the factory.
Ajit and his wife Dipti watched the Master of Teas approach up the walk from the big window on the far right of the veranda.
“What’s come over Mum?” Dipti asked, clearly worried for the old woman.
Ajit frowned. “I believe she’s recognized Master Peh’s Ātman,” he replied simply, “and he hers.”
Dipti gave a tiny gasp and glanced up at her husband. “Both?” She asked. “Surely not!” It was rare for one material person to recognize the soul of another, but not entirely uncommon; it was bordering on the divine however, for two people to experience the same rare event simultaneously.
Ajit smiled. “Even you must have encountered a past soul a time or two in your life,” he replied simply.
Dipti grinned. “Only you my love,” she lied.
Ajit chuckled. “Clever woman,” he said but knew she was hiding the truth. One could hardly go through life without meeting some familiar soul. Someone you took to be a fast friend the moment you met, or perhaps someone you love after just one look. Tragically, like the situation with Mum, the meeting of souls was rarely timely, more often than not the familiar Ātman was the wrong age, or the wrong station, or perhaps already married…or worse yet, the same sex.
“And what of Haatim?” Ajit asked with a smirk.
Dipti laughed as well. “Haatim, Haatim, always Haatim,” she quipped referring to the suitor Ajit had competed with for her hand. As she watched Master Peh disembark from the carriage she grew serious however.
“No, not Haatim, however handsome he was,” she began, “but perhaps Madhuja,” she suggested thinking of her long ago companion. From the very first moment they’d met,Madhuja had been like a sister to her. They shared the same dreams, they liked the same boys; it was as if they were two sides of the same person. There’d been no “getting to know you,” period, they’d just met and were instantly great friends…and friends they remained for all their lives. And even though the miles gradually increased between them, the two shared monthly letters… all the way up until Madhuja’s death, already five years back. Even now Dipti missed her friend terribly.
“Yes…Madhuja,” she admitted and watched in awe and envy as Master Peh approached. “Mum is a blessed woman,” she admitted.
“Yes,” Ajit answered softly. He would not interfere; whatever past experience brought these two together in this life had to have been an extraordinarily powerful event…certainly not one to be denied. He felt exalted to be in their company, and celebrated his Mum’s extraordinary karma. It was like gazing into the face of Brahma, terrifying no doubt, but utterly exhilarating at the same time. It took all of his willpower not to stay at the window and spy on the proceedings, but of course he had his own karma to think about. So as Master Peh slowly mounted the stairs to the veranda, he gently touched his wife on the shoulder and together they moved deeper into the house.
Harriet’s heart was pounding wildly as Master Peh approached. He moved gracefully, yet somehow solemnly up the stairs, and with his hands pressed tightly together he gave his deepest bow of respect.
“I thought of our conversation often during the day,” Peh began as Harriet gazed up at him, her expression half joyful, half fearful, a perfect reflection of how he felt.
Harriet nodded. “Yes,” she agreed and motioned for her guest to be seated. He bowed again, captivating Harriet with his uncommon grace while performing such an ordinary thing. She thought to confess her dream from the night before, but then discarded the notion as being too forward…too revealing.
“I had a dream about us last night,” she began, utterly surprised by her own behavior, but with an encouraging nod from Donghai, she continued on. She described everything, every feeling, every hope, every joy and every loss. To his credit Donghai listened to the entire telling patiently and without comment, only giving the slightest nod of acknowledgement when the awed Dipti served their meal.
“I believed you might be aware of the connection,” he said softly when Harriet finally fell silent.
Harriet nodded but remained quiet. She had nothing to say, no experience at all to deal with such a notion.
“I felt it to,” he continued on in her silence, “and denied it at first, but while riding here my resolve began to weaken. It collapsed completely, crushed by the sheer joy and terror I felt being near you once more.”
“You fear me?” Harriet finally answered very quietly.
Peh nodded. “And why should that be so?” He asked generally. “I have a life…a wife and family. Talking with you, enjoying your company should not come with any fear or anxiety.”
“But it does?”
“Yes,” he responded.
“Yes,” she agreed.
They ate quietly for a time, both surprised that their meal was before them and that it was growing cold. Harriet pecked at her food and gazed out at the lanterns glowing softly in the night. A light breeze caressed her face occasionally, reaffirming that she was alive an
d well. She was acutely aware of the man’s eyes upon her as he sat silently eating, but for the moment she was too afraid to face him. Eventually however, she gathered her courage and stared straight back into his eyes; after all, what did she truly have to fear? Her heart fluttered despite her newfound courage and she almost pulled away again.
“You love your wife?” She asked, utterly appalled at her brashness.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
“Of course you do, forgive me for asking,” Harriet stammered, only dimly aware that Jagjit had returned with the carriage and was patiently waiting in the drive.
“No offense was taken,” Donghai replied, and then ignoring the arrival of the carriage, commenced to tell Harriet everything about his wife, Xiu, their arranged marriage that started out poorly before slowly turning into acceptance, and eventually love.
Harriet listened tolerantly, finally coming to grips with the reality of the situation. This man could never be hers. It was a completely ludicrous notion, she was not long for the grave and Donghai…well Donghai was Chinese. Even if she was a great deal younger, and their options open, the obstacles were far too many to surmount.
“I’m very happy for you,” Harriet replied a little sadly, once her guest had fallen silent, “and thank you so much for coming so far from home to help with our gardens.”
“You are most welcome…Harriet,” Donghai answered quietly and then shifted forward in his seat, staring directly into her eyes. “It has been a most fortuitous trip. We have met before and I’m sure we will meet again,” he added, utterly confident in his beliefs.
Harriet tipped her head to one side, slightly confused. Yes, she had strong feelings that they’d met before, but she was quite sure they had not…and the chances of them coming together again would be slim indeed.
“What do you mean?” She demanded suddenly, getting the impression that he was hiding some secret knowledge from her.
One Life Well and Truly Promised Page 29