A Garland of Marigolds (17 page)

I assumed a confidence I was far from feeling.

“
Oh yes!
”
I said.
“
It will be a terrific amount of work because the ground is so hard, but everybody is very willing. We shall do it all right.
”

The leader of the
panchayat,
a very old man with flowing white hair, smiled and said,
“
Who would have believed that a woman could speak with such confidence?
”
he scoffed gently.
“
Nevertheless, the
Sahib
says you are to be trusted and will make great things come to pass in our village. This evening we shall honor the gods and gain their favor as the women have been doing all day.
”

I thanked him warmly, secretly thrilled that Gideon should have
shown such trust in me. I left him, glowing with pleasure, just in time to see Gideon arriving in the passenger seat of his jeep that was driven by the
Swami.

I ran toward them, waving as I went. Their unexpected presence was reassuring and it was with great restraint that I refrained from throwing my arms around Gideon
’
s neck.

“
How lovely!
”
I exclaimed as I drew up to them.
“
I didn
’
t think there was any way for you to come here.
”

Gideon smiled at the
Swami.
“
He brought me,
”
he said.
“
He knew I wouldn
’
t want to miss the great event! How
’
s it going?
”

“
The ground is hard,
”
I said.

Gideon grunted.
“
We
’
ll see about that!
”
he promised. Somehow he managed to get down to where the men were working and in a few seconds he had them organized into gangs and really putting their backs into moving the earth. The
Swami
and I stood and watched.

“
I do hope he doesn
’
t hurt himself,
”
I remarked, unable to keep my anxiety to myself any longer.
“
He
’
s a grand man, isn
’
t he?
”
The
Swami
smiled his consent.

“
He is my friend,
”
he said.

Something in his smile made me wonder if I had been too effusive and had somehow given myself away—though what was there to give away beyond the fact that I liked and admired Gideon and was glad to be working for him? I refused to think about anything else. And I was wise enough to know the ways that led to heartbreak and despair, even if I wasn
’
t wise enough to know that those ways can
’
t always be avoided.

“
Where is the other young English lady?
”
the
Swami
asked me, uncannily mirroring my own thoughts.

“
Julie? She
’
s in Delhi,
”
I answered briefly.

The
Swami
swept his orange robe more closely around his shoulders.

“
She is not the one for Gideon,
”
he said decisively.
“
It would be a pity if he fell into the trap of thinking that she were. One needs compassion, but not for one
’
s wife.
”

Of course, I reminded myself, the
Swami
was a wise man and accustomed to making prophetic utterances and interfering in other people
’
s affairs, but I was still shy of him and not at all inclined to ask his advice.

He turned to face me.
“
It is a good task you have set yourself here. India has great need of such ideas and such people.
”
Then he was gone, running down the slope to where the men were working, exchanging a word with this one and patting another one on his shoulder. When he reached Gideon
’
s side he said nothing at all, but offered his shoulder as an extra crutch and tenderly helped him back into the jeep.

That evening the whole village was astir. Lights, kept going with little more than a dab of oil, lit up the hot, dusty streets, transforming them into a fairy paradise. Now and again fireworks lit up the sky. The village had decided to hold a feast, to appease the local household gods, and to have a lovely excuse for dousing each other with water and colored dyes, a ceremony usually reserved for later in the year.

I wandered down the main shopping street looking at the sights. The statue of the local goddess, patronized mostly by expectant mothers, was covered by colored streamers and garlands of marigolds lay at her feet. It was a very pretty sight.

Seeing me on my own, Lakshmi came over and stood by my side.
“
Are you enjoying the festival?
”
she asked me.
“
Why isn
’
t the
Sahib
with you?
”

I laughed.

“
The
Sahib
is having trouble carrying his leg around with him!
”
I told her.
“
But aren
’
t the lights pretty? And why are all the flowers marigolds?
”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“
They are always marigolds. When we greet visitors we place garlands of marigolds around their necks; when we visit Ghandiji
’
s memorial place we drop marigolds on the ground. In a way they are the national flower of India.
”

I accepted her explanation because the flowers did seem to suit India. Their color was brash and effective and the marigold was a common flower, easily grown and without the distinction of a sophisticated perfume to please the more jaded palate. A quieter bloom would droop in the hot sun or be unable to withstand the long days of pelting rain in the monsoon season. It would, therefore, never summon up the spice and will for survival that was all I knew of Mother India.

“
I see,
”
I said.
“
No one gave me a garland of marigolds when I arrived!
”

Lakshmi giggled.

“
When the dam is finished they
’
ll give you hundreds!
”
she promised rashly.
“
The crops will grow and we
’
ll be the richest village for miles around. We are all very pleased and proud. I am especially proud, of course!
”

“
Oh, why?
”
I asked.

She gave me a sidelong glance that was at once shy and teasing.

“
Because it is I who serve you, why else?
”
she commented. Another rocket streaked through the black sky and fell practically at our feet, causing us both to laugh.
“
That is nothing yet!
”
she assured me.
“
You wait until later when we really get going!
”

“
Lakshmi—
”
I began, and then stopped. After all, the question I wanted to ask her was personal and she might very well resent it.

“
You want to ask something?
”
she prompted me.

“
Well, yes,
”
I said.
“
Why don
’
t you go to one of the cities? You speak English so well. I
’
m sure you could make more money!
”

“
I have little need of money,
”
she said.
“
Compared to my friends I am rich, and soon, when I marry, my home will be near here. Why should I go away?
”

My interest was immediately caught.

“
But who are you going to marry?
”
I asked, intrigued.

She laughed again, shrugging her shoulders a little.

“
I do not know yet. My family are still considering the matter. All I know is that it is time for me to marry and that the money I earn will make me a fine dowry.
”

I felt sharply that she would never fall in love and never know the agony of indecision that I was going through. It seemed unfair somehow, for the glory of the occasional moment far outweighed the morose sorrow of knowing that Gideon would never fall in love with me.

“
But don
’
t you want to choose your own husband?
”
I asked her.

“
Sometimes,
”
she agreed lightly,
“
and sometimes not. The old ways are better when you have a good family and they are kind to you. I will have many years in which to fall in love with my husband.
”

Another sparkler roared through the sky and fell over Lakshmi
’
s sister
’
s house. It made me think of the poverty of that family and I could hardly bear the thought of Lakshmi being destined for the same sort of existence. As if she had read my thoughts, she smiled at me.

“
Don
’
t worry, I am what you would call in your country a
‘
good
’
catch.
’
My family have worked very hard so that I shall marry well!
”

“
Marry well, yes!
”
I couldn
’
t help arguing.
“
But what about marrying happily?
”

Lakshmi was confused by the very idea and hung her head, only cheering up when I suggested that we go back to the main bungalow for dinner before the festival really got under way. She walked back along the street with me and accompanied me on to the verandah.

“
I shall go and tell the
Sahib
you are here,
”
she said softly, and disappeared inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And they were not very comfortable ones, because I had grown fond of Lakshmi and couldn
’
t see that there was going to be much happiness in the future for either of us.

I chose the most comfortable chair on the verandah and luxuriously stretched my tired body. It had been quite a day and the softness of the night was conducive to dreaming. In the distance, I could smell something cooking, but I was not hungry enough for it to disturb me. I was nearly asleep when Joseph joined me.

“
Where
’
s Camilla?
”
he asked.

I shook my head.
“
I don
’
t know. She
’
s probably with Gideon.
”

Joseph stood on the edge of the verandah. After a while he began to whistle some endless tune under his breath.

“
Do you have to?
”
I complained.

“
Sorry.
”
He scuffed his shoes on the top step.
“
Suki,
”
he said at last,
“
I
’
m not getting anywhere, am I?
”

“
What do you mean?
”

He smiled wryly.
“
You know quite well. I
’
m not exactly making a success of my time here, as the
Sahib
Gideon was kind enough to point out to me. You
’
re getting all the kudos for your go-ahead vision with the dam and irrigation is supposed to be my field!
”

“
Well, so it is,
”
I said in matter-of-fact tones.
“
What have you been doing about it?
”