The Royal Ghosts, page 19
She stood in front of him, smiling. Her eyes glistened as if she might start to cry. “Raju says that he doesn’t want another formal wedding, just a court wedding. Says the big one he had with his wife was enough. But I’ve told him that I want it all, a band and a party and everything. I want the whole world to see.”
The front door creaked open and Raju Sab entered. For a moment he stood there, taking in the scene. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” she whispered.
“What’s the occasion?”
“I was showing Jeevan my wedding sari.”
Raju Sab shook his head. “We’ve talked about this before. I don’t want another wedding like that, Laxmi. Look where it got me.”
Laxmi Memsab turned to Jeevan. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“But you look good,” Raju Sab said. “Doesn’t she, boy?” He went to Laxmi Memsab and put his hand on her shoulder. “Here you are, looking so beautiful. I think I should do something about it. Jeevan, isn’t it time for you to go to sleep? Don’t folks in the village go to bed at sunset?”
His face warm and his mouth still dry, Jeevan left, feeling as if he had been rudely awakened from a pleasant dream. Raju Sab and Laxmi Memsab went into her bedroom, and Jeevan soon heard their laughter and whispers. He went to his room, shut the door, and stared at the poster of Lord Krishna that he’d tacked to the wall. He found the letter he’d begun writing to his mother, and as he read over what he’d written about his life in this house, how he planned to bring her gifts from the city, he realized that he missed her terribly. Then he reminded himself of their struggles after his father’s death and how fortunate he’d been to land this job. He knew that he had to be strong and stop pining for home.
Jeevan heard a familiar thumping noise from Laxmi Memsab’s bedroom, and he pushed his forehead against his pillow and pulled the blanket over his head. But he was too agitated to sleep, and he tried to calm himself by reciting a hymn he’d learned as a child.
The next morning, Laxmi Memsab looked happier than Jeevan had seen her in days. “Today Raju is going to Singapore on a business trip for a week,” she said, sipping her tea, “and after he returns, he’s going to hire a lawyer to finalize the divorce. He says he’s not going to take no for an answer from Mona this time.”
Her confidence bothered him. She was too trusting of Raju Sab, who, Jeevan increasingly suspected, wasn’t as serious about her as he told her he was. All morning she chatted with Jeevan in the kitchen, her hands moving restlessly from one utensil to another. She even helped him cook, something she had never done. “If you stay with me, Jeevan,” she said at one point, “I’ll send you to school. You want to go to school, don’t you?”
His father’s death had forced Jeevan to quit studying for the School Leaving Certificate exam, and he had wished that he could finish it. So he nodded, but when he spoke, he was unable to mask his annoyance at her gullibility when it came to Raju Sab. “Easier said than done, though. How would I work and still go to school?”
She eyed him. “What’s the matter? Are you thinking about your mother?”
He muttered an excuse about needing to buy some ginger, and left the house. Outside, he ran into the shopkeeper who owned the shop across the street, a talkative fellow who had taken a liking to Jeevan, and now he asked in a low voice, “So, how’s your Laxmi Memsab? Is Raju Sab going to leave his wife for her?”
Jeevan said sullenly, “How would I know? I only work for her.”
Walking back inside, he decided to ask Laxmi Memsab if he could visit his mother in a few days. He’d broach the subject with her later today, because she seemed to be in a good mood.
That afternoon, however, something happened that changed everything. Laxmi Memsab and Jeevan had gone to a crowded supermarket in Bhatbhateni. Jeevan was walking behind her, holding a shopping basket, when a large woman approached them and snapped at her, “Whore! Are you happy sleeping with my sister’s husband?” Her voice was loud enough so that people stopped and looked at them. Laxmi Memsab stared at the floor. The woman seemed to occupy the whole aisle. “Slut!” the woman barked. Her face was heavy with makeup, and her round eyes bulged in rage. A teenage girl beside her touched her hand and said, “Mummy, let’s go. What’s the point in talking to people like her?”
The woman flung the girl’s arm away and said to Laxmi Memsab, “Do you know that right now Raju and Mona are flying to Singapore for their honeymoon? The honeymoon that you deprived them of because of your slutty ways?”
Laxmi Memsab kept her head lowered. Jeevan could only gape at the woman.
“Don’t think it’s that easy to ruin someone’s marriage, a marriage sanctified with God as its witness. Raju babu will soon get tired of you. I’d love to see your face then.”
Jeevan was about to respond angrily but the woman and the girl turned abruptly and left. He got a whiff of perfume as they went past. Her face crimson, Laxmi Memsab studied the label on a can while other customers sneaked glances in her direction. Finally, after what seemed like minutes, she said, “Let’s go.” She told Jeevan to put the basket on the floor, and they left the supermarket.
In the taxi on the way home, she kept her eyes on the road, her head against the seat. Jeevan sat awkwardly with the driver in the front seat. He wanted to turn his head, tell her not to worry, that she shouldn’t listen to what that woman had said, but it seemed improper to break the silence. The evening traffic was heavy, and on such trips Laxmi Memsab would have commented on something outside—the pedestrians, the new stores, the aggressive drivers—but today she said nothing.
At home, she locked herself in her bedroom. Jeevan made tea for her and knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer. He stood there, trying to listen for any sound inside, but heard nothing, so he went back to the kitchen. He imagined Raju Sab and his wife on an airplane, flying to Singapore.
Jeevan decided to make dinner—Laxmi Memsab’s favorite, chicken and eggplant—then remembered that they hadn’t bought anything at the supermarket. He looked around the kitchen; there was very little food left. He needed to ask her what to do about dinner, so he went to her door. But she had moved to the living room and was sitting on the sofa, massaging her temples.
“Do you have a headache, Memsab?”
She nodded and looked at him. Her eyes were clouded. “I think I need a glass of whiskey,” she said.
“I’ll pour you one.”
He went to the cabinet in the corner of the room and found a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He poured her a glass, and when he brought it to her, he said, “Memsab, you shouldn’t pay attention to what that woman said. She only wanted to rile you.”
“Oh, that Ramita?”
“Her name is Ramita? That means spectacle, a show, doesn’t it?” Jeevan said, laughing. “Did her parents really name her that?”
She smiled. “You really have to wonder what they were thinking, don’t you? Maybe they sensed that she’d create a circus like the one in the supermarket today.”
“And what big eyes she had.”
“Didn’t she?” Laxmi Memsab said. “Like the fanged goddess Kali.” She made her eyes big and stuck out her tongue. Jeevan pretended to be scared, and they both laughed, but Laxmi Memsab’s laughter soon turned gloomy.
“Forget about this, Memsab.”
“I’ve ruined my life with Raju.”
Jeevan didn’t know what to say.
“He’s gone off with Mona. He’s going to stay with her—I can feel it. It would make sense.”
“That Ramita woman was just being hurtful.”
“Jeevan, I’ve been feeling it for a while. Raju is losing interest in me. I was just a diversion for him.”
“You shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. You should talk to him about it when he comes back.”
“Now I’m beginning to think I really am worthless. I wreaked havoc on a man’s marriage, created a bad name for myself, and look at what has happened to me. I have no one.”
“Memsab, I am here for you.”
She shook her head. “One day you too will go, Jeevan.”
He took her hand. “Memsab, I’ll never leave you. I’ll go if you kick me out, but I’ll never leave your side.” He thought of his mother, but right now he badly wanted Laxmi Memsab to feel better about herself.
“You’re just trying to console me.”
“I swear, Memsab,” he said. “You took me in when I was desperate. And I will stay with you.”
She ran her finger over his chin. “You are a very sweet boy, Jeevan. The woman you marry will be a lucky one.”
Impulsively, he kissed her hand. He felt his eyes grow teary as he did.
In the middle of the night, he was woken by her screaming. He rushed to her room, where she was sitting upright in her bed, looking terrified. “Someone was just in my room, Jeevan. He said something, then disappeared.”
To satisfy her, Jeevan checked underneath the bed, then went out to the balcony and surveyed the yard. When he came back inside, she was still in the same position, anxiously waiting for him.
“You had a nightmare, Memsab,” he said.
“It didn’t feel like a nightmare. He was calling me names and his face was all twisted. Feel my heart, feel how fast it’s beating.” She took his hand and put it against her chest. He could feel the thud-thud-thud of her heart, like a tiny bird against his palm.
“It was only a nightmare. You’ll be fine, Memsab. Now try to sleep again.”
“But I know I won’t be able to. Please Jeevan, can you sleep in my room tonight? I beg you. You could sleep right here on the floor.”
Though he knew better, he couldn’t think of a way to say no to her. “All right, let me get my things.”
He transferred his straw mat and blanket to the floor in her room, right below her bed. “Now nothing will happen,” he told her, “so try to go to sleep.” For a long time, he heard her tossing and turning, the bed creaking as she moved. Once or twice it sounded as if she were whispering to herself.
He dozed, then woke a short while later to see her sitting up in bed again. He asked her what was wrong, and she said she needed to use the toilet but was too scared. Half asleep, he accompanied her to the bathroom and waited outside until she was done. Back in bed, her tossing and turning continued.
Raju Sab had said he would be back after a week, and each day that he was gone Laxmi Memsab seemed more and more tormented by her own thoughts. Every night Jeevan slept in her room, and during the day she started drinking early in the afternoon. She stopped taking her daily baths, he noticed, and her hair often went uncombed. She ate erratically, sometimes devouring everything Jeevan set in front of her, and other times not eating for the entire day. When there was a knock on the door—the postman or the laundry woman or someone trying to sell something—she’d run to her bedroom, frantically signaling to Jeevan to tell whoever it was that she was not home. She’d stay in her room for a long time, and when Jeevan went to her afterward, he’d find her in bed, lying face-down. “Memsab, you need to get a hold of yourself,” he finally told her one day. “You can’t live your life like this.”
“What do you know about life?” she replied. “You come from the village and in two days you understand everything?”
Her words stung him, and he mumbled that although he was from the village, he was not stupid.
The night before Raju Sab was to return, Jeevan woke to Laxmi Memsab sliding under his blanket. She didn’t say anything, just rested her head on his chest. He stroked her hair. He wished she wasn’t so miserable, wished there were something he could do to truly help her. “I’ll never leave you, Memsab,” he whispered in her ear. Her eyes were closed, so he didn’t know whether she heard him.
When Raju Sab came the next evening, he was clearly stunned to see the state Laxmi Memsab was in. Her hair was a mess, and the dhoti she wore had food stains all over it. “What have you done to yourself?” he asked.
At first she didn’t answer, but he was persistent.
Finally, in a clipped voice, she said, “How was your honeymoon?”
“What honeymoon? I was on a business trip, I told you.”
When she glared at him, he took her hand and said, “What could I do, Laxmi? At the last minute she threw a fit. I had to take her. But honeymoon? I barely touch her these days.”
“Your sister-in-law said you two were on the honeymoon that I prevented you from taking.”
“Ramita will say anything. For me it was business from morning to night. Mona was in the hotel by herself all day. Some honeymoon!”
She stared at him. “You’re not lying?”
“Why would I lie to you? Why are you in such a state? Jeevan, didn’t you take care of your memsab?”
You’re supposed to take care of her, not me, Jeevan wanted to say, but he just muttered, “Shall I make tea?” Laxmi Memsab nodded, and he went to the kitchen. When he returned, she and Raju Sab were sitting on the sofa, holding hands. Laxmi Memsab had apparently just told him about the supermarket incident, for he was saying, “Don’t pay any attention to Ramita. She’s a real witch.”
Soon they went to her bedroom and shut the door. Earlier that afternoon, in anticipation of Raju Sab’s arrival, Jeevan had taken his bedding back to his room. Now, unable to bear the thought of listening to them, he went out.
The moon was full, and he looked up at it as he walked along narrow streets where the shops were closing for the night. He headed toward New Road, where the lights were still bright and people were still shopping. But his mind stayed on what was happening in the flat. When would she come to her senses? No wonder Raju Sab had been able to keep her in limbo for so long. If she hadn’t understood by now that he wasn’t leaving his wife, she might never understand it. Perhaps Jeevan was better off getting out of this mess. Yet the thought of leaving Laxmi Memsab made him anxious. He tried to sort out his feelings for her: yes, his heart beat louder when he was close to her, but there was something more—he’d become strangely possessive of her, as if he were the only one who truly knew her. And he felt that he needed to guard her from people like Raju Sab and Ramita. If he were to leave Laxmi Memsab and find a job in another household, he could see himself continuing to worry about her, becoming racked by guilt that he’d left her at the mercy of these people.
When he returned about an hour later, Raju Sab was already gone, and Laxmi Memsab was sitting on the sofa reading a book. She had combed her hair, washed her face, and changed into a new dhoti. “Where did you go?” she asked him.
“For a walk,” he said curtly, and went to the kitchen to cook dinner.
She followed him. “Are you angry at me about something?”
“Why would I be angry at you?” he snapped.
“No, you’re angry. What’s wrong, Jeevan?”
He turned to her. “Don’t you see, Laxmi Memsab? Raju Sab is lying.”
“How do you know?”
“Can’t you sense it? Don’t you see it in his eyes?”
“You think you know everything, Jeevan? I’ve known Raju longer than you have.”
“But you yourself said—”
“Listen, things are difficult for Raju, but I know he wants to be with me.”
“Is he going to leave his wife to marry you?”
“Who are you to question me like that?” she said loudly. “You think you’ve become such an important person? Don’t forget, you’re still a servant in this house.”
She stormed away from him, and he heard her slam the bedroom door. He turned off the gas, scooped her food onto a plate, and carried it to her room. He put the plate down outside her door and announced, “Your food is ready.” He walked back to the kitchen and sat on the floor. She was right: he was only a servant in this house, and he was deluding himself if he thought that he could actually protect her from anyone. Was he trying to be her savior? He had to return to his village, at least for a visit, to remind himself where he came from. Seeing his mother again would help him reclaim his true self, and he’d come back to Laxmi Memsab with a renewed sense of who he was and who he was not. Tomorrow, he said to himself, I’m going to go whether she approves of it or not.
That night he woke up and saw, by his door, her figure, illuminated from behind by moonlight streaming into the kitchen.
“Jeevan,” she said. “I can’t sleep.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Do you want me to heat up some leftovers for you?”
She shook her head. Then she came and sat on his mat. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you, Jeevan. Are you still angry at me?”
“Not really. You’re right, Memsab. I forgot that I am just a servant in this house.”
“You’re not just a servant. You’re my friend.”
He clasped her hand. “Memsab, do you seriously think Raju Sab will leave his wife for you? Do you believe it in your heart?”
She sighed and lay down beside him. His mat was narrow, and their bodies pressed against each other. “Can we not talk about it?” she said. She rested her head on his chest, and her breath smelled of alcohol—obviously she’d been drinking in her room. She closed her eyes. “Let’s sleep, Jeevan,” she said.
He wanted to tell her, right now, that tomorrow morning he planned to catch the first bus to Dhunche, but as he felt her warm breath on his chest, his resolve weakened. Maybe not tomorrow, he told himself, maybe the day after. Perhaps better to write to his mother first, informing her of his visit.
He stayed awake thinking about what might happen in the days to come. He didn’t know what would transpire between her and Raju Sab—Raju Sab would never leave his wife to marry her, of that Jeevan was certain. But he also knew that every moment he himself spent with her, every night they slept together, his village seemed to move farther and farther away from him. That this could happen in such a short time surprised him. He could hear his mother saying, This is what you went to the city for?
This thought unsettled him and, gently disengaging himself from Laxmi Memsab, he sat up. Outside, the moon was big. He looked at Laxmi Memsab’s face, white in the moonlight, a crease across her forehead. Somehow he knew that this was how things would continue for a long time to come: Raju Sab would keep her hanging, and she would turn to him, Jeevan, for comfort. Even if he were to visit his village, he would keep worrying about her, and return to her as quickly as he could.
