[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Manny held out his hand, trying to prevent the gesture of respect, speaking to the man in Hindi, his voice kind and soft, his eyes and smile wide.“This is Mr.Chaudhrythe, the security guard.He has been with my family since before I was born.” Jason shook the bony hand, the man’s calloused skin leather-tough.“He is more like family than some of my family,” Manny said and turned to speak to the guard.By their tones Jason knew that it was not a relationship based on employment.“I told him we were having a gathering and invited him up.He says no thank you, but I’ll be sure to bring him down a plate later.”The two men shook hands again, Manny insisting that he could carry the cooler without help, and they mounted the first flight of stairs as Mr.Chaudhrythe took his place back in the shadows.Chapter Twenty-eight“That was Attar’s office over there by the open window.Mine was near that empty Thumbs Up bottle,” Manny said, bent low over the kerosene lamp, pointing backwards with the tip of a screwdriver.“Sriram’s office was down the hall.” He gestured with the flat of his hand to indicate where a passageway once ran.“And across from Sriram was Narvin.Ketan had that window that looked out over the road and right about here would have been where old Piyush sat.” With an airy hiss and a puff of inky smoke, the kerosene lamp came to life, casting hard-edged shadows around the open space.Other than a dozen support columns and mounds of trash, the floor was empty.“What about Amrish Sharma?” Jason asked.“Taco?”Manny looked back over the room.“There.Near the stairs.”“It was crowded up here.”“It was the only floor that was done.But, oh, did we have grand plans for this building.”Jason helped Manny lift the soot-covered stove out of the cardboard box, setting it on the cement floor, moving the lamp far to the side when he saw how much kerosene they had already spilled.After prying the caps off a pair of Kingfishers with the ancient bottle opener built into the side of the cooler, Jason unloaded the small, covered aluminum pots and knock-off Tupperware containers that held the evening’s feast, Manny arranging his supplies to both sides of the stove, thinking through the meal before lighting the stove.“You may not have guessed it by looking at me,” Manny said, his back to Jason as he opened a box of kitchen matches, his cell phone dropping out of his shirt pocket to clatter on top of the stove, “but I am fond of eating.Regrettably my wife is not a good cook.Since the day we were married I have had to fend for myself lest I waste away.”“How about your mother, was she a good cook?”“Oh wonderful, truly wonderful.And that is not just a son’s boasts.Everyone who ate at my home said as much.Hold this for me please?” he said, handing Jason his cell phone over his shoulder.“My amma’s pakki biryani was so delicious the brass statute of Ganesh would get up from the kitchen shrine and join us at the table, shoveling in great mouthfuls with his trunk.This is the truth, so help me.” He placed a hand on his sloping chest and rolled his eyes heavenward.“Speaking of mothers,” Jason said, pocketing the cell phone, pausing to pull down a long swig of beer, sure now that Manny was listening, “Piyush came to see me at the hotel this morning.” He paused again, watching Manny’s back as he struggled to light the stove, snapping the matchsticks with his jerky movement.“He says Sriram’s mother doesn’t live in Ooty.”“Its proper name is Uthagamanadalam.”“She’s dead, Manny.She died when you were just kids and you knew it.”Manny rolled the matchstick between his fingers for a moment before striking it alongside of the box, sparking a small flame.He cupped his hand around the match head, lowering it down to the stove’s burner, a ring of blue flame springing up.He tossed the box of matches down near the cooler, then pushed his hands down on his thighs as he stood, grunting, letting his round shoulders sag as he turned to face Jason.“I suppose I should explain.”Sharp clapping erupted from the floor below them, falling in sync, beating out a fast rhythm.“We are the men of Tappa Tappa Kega,” a pair of voices boomed off key.“We want a beer so shake-a leg-a leg-a!” Their heavy footfalls timed with their claps, Attar Singh and Ravi Mutry bounded up the open stairwell, two steps at a time, dropping down on one knee, arms outstretched for a big “Ta-da!” finish, Ravi’s leather shoulder bag swinging as they held their pose.“Watch that stairwell, you lunatics,” Manny shouted, laughing, breaking into rapid applause, nudging Jason’s elbow until he joined in, saying out of the side of his mouth, “Remember, this was a surprise.”Attar and Ravi helped each other to their feet, Attar laughing, wiping away tears, Ravi’s laugh hesitant and embarrassed.Both men had seemed so formal when he first met them, making their frat-house entrance all the more unexpected.Tall and thin, Attar seemed less imposing than Jason remembered, a heartbeat later remembering also Attar’s fiery outburst on the road to the Amber Palace.Dressed in a ubiquitous button-down white shirt, synthetic khakis and sandals, he looked like a hundred million other Indian men his age.The last time Jason had seen Ravi had been at Sriram’s memorial service in one of the meeting rooms at Raj-Tech.Now, instead of his designer suit, Ravi wore a crisp pair of dress pants and an expensive logo-less polo shirt, a gold-trimmed shoulder bag serving as a casual attaché case.He looked younger, less corporate, yet still uncomfortable with Manny’s bear hug embrace and two-cheek kiss greeting.“I bet you thought you had seen the last of me,” Attar said, patting Jason on the back.“You don’t know how surprised I am.I’m learning that Manny here is good at keeping secrets.”“I’m just glad I was able to get away from the office,” Ravi said, shaking Jason’s hand.“It’s good to see you again.You’re a bit thinner and it’s hard to tell in this light but you look tanned.I guess you’re surviving India all right.”“Thanks for setting Rachel and me up in the hotel.I didn’t know what we were going to do,” Jason said, kicking himself as the words came out, knowing what was coming next.“Hey, speaking of Rachel, where is that lovely bride of yours?” Attar said, taking the open beers Manny held out for them, handing one to Ravi.“I didn’t know you two were married,” Ravi said.“Oh yes.Quite an attractive woman, totally dotty over this fellow.” Attar gave Jason a playful punch in the arm.Jason ran his thumbnail through the flimsy beer label, hoping the moment would pass.“He has not mentioned a thing about a wife,” Manny said.“Is she here in Bangalore? You should have said something, we have plenty of food.”Jason puffed out his cheeks and sighed.“There’s something I ought to clear up about Rachel.It’s kind of hard to explain, but, well, Rachel’s…she’s…she’s sorta…
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]