Swimming in the Monsoon Sea (15 page)

Once Amrith was done, Niresh looked in the mirror at the neatly tied sarong. “Wow!”

Amrith, too, looked at his cousin in the mirror. When he had stood close to him, there had been a nice smell to Niresh, of well-matured leather.

Amrith took Niresh to Pagoda for lunch. The restaurant was famous in Colombo. The wizened waiters, in their white sarongs and white coats with epaulets and brass buttons, were an institution themselves. For as long as the Manuel-Pillais had been coming here, they were always served by the same waiter — a plump man with a white walrus mustache named Albert. They were his clients and no other waiter dared serve them. The moment they would enter, Albert would come hurrying towards them, waving the white cloth he carried over his arms, crying, “Sir,
Madam, this way.” A table would always be found for them. They never waited.

When Amrith and Niresh came into the restaurant, however, Albert sailed right past them to another client, who had actually come in after them. Amrith was mortified. He had hoped to impress his cousin by the way Albert would heartily greet him and deferentially wave them to a table. But the waiter did not even recognize him. Finally, after many more people had been taken ahead of them, a junior waiter led them to a small table at the back in a dark corner. He gave them a suspicious glare as they sat down. Young boys did not dine alone; they did not have the money to do so. He plonked two menus on the table and left.

“What’s up?” Niresh asked.

“Nothing.”

Yet, Niresh had caught on to the waiter’s hostility. He grimaced in commiseration. “Let’s just have a good time.”

Amrith and the girls usually ordered a selection of cakes and short-eats, which were brought to them on tiered serving plates. They would eat what they wanted and then the waiter, who knew just how many items there had been on the plates, would add up the bill. Amrith suggested that they do the same thing now.

After the waiter had grudgingly slammed down the plates and left, Niresh squinted at the assortment before them. “So they count how many are left and add up the bill that way?”

Amrith nodded.

Niresh grinned wickedly. “I see.” He pointed to a breaded capsicum stuffed with fish. “Are you going to eat that one?”

Amrith shook his head.

“No, me neither.” Niresh picked up the capsicum and winked at Amrith. He gave it a long lick before putting it back on the plate.

Amrith was shocked, but then he grinned. He pointed to an egg cutlet. “Do you want this one?”

Niresh shook his head.

Amrith licked it.

They snorted and giggled. Each of them took the short-eats and cakes they wanted and licked every other one, careful not to leave the trail of their tongues on the icing of cakes.

When the waiter came by to add up the bill, Amrith and Niresh took one look at his sour expression and snuffled with laughter. The waiter glared at them, ripped off the bill, and slammed it down on the table. Usually one paid up at the cash register, but the waiter, knowing something was up, stood by with his arms folded.

Niresh and Amrith reached for the bill at the same time.

“No, Niresh, I have to pay.”

Niresh pulled at the bill. “Don’t be an ass, Amrith. I asked you out.”

“No, I … I have to pay. Uncle Lucky will be very upset if I don’t.”

The seriousness of Amrith’s tone made Niresh relinquish the bill.

When they were out on the street, Niresh touched Amrith’s arm. “Thanks.” Yet, there was a frown on his face.

They walked a short distance, then Niresh came to a stop in the shade of a shop awning. He had adopted the Sri Lankan habit of carrying a handkerchief, and he took it out and mopped his brow and neck. “So,” he said, turning to Amrith, “why would your uncle be
upset
if I paid?”

Amrith did not reply. It had slipped out involuntarily.

Niresh was waiting.

Amrith looked at his feet. “It’s … just a way of returning hospitality, for lunch at Mount Lavinia.”

“But why would he be
upset?”
Niresh squeezed his arm. “Come on, Amrith, I’m your cousin. You can tell me.”

“No, Niresh, no. It’s … it’s just complicated.”

“How?”

Amrith was silent, but then seeing that his cousin would not give up, he said, “It’s … my aunt. She … she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you all. She’s got many feelings about … what happened.”

“What did happen, Amrith?”

He did not say anything.

Niresh regarded him, his head to one side. “You know, it’s my history, too. Your mum was my aunt. Your grandparents were mine as well. I would like to know why my father disowned you. I get the feeling that he hated your mum. But why?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.” Amrith rounded on his cousin. “Why can’t you respect that and leave me alone?” He stalked away and, after a moment, Niresh followed a few steps behind.

Before they parted company in front of Uncle Lucky’s office building, Niresh touched his shoulder and said, with a tentative smile, “I’ll see you around?”

“Of course.” Amrith forced himself to smile.

His cousin began to walk away.

“Hey, Niresh.”

“Yeah?” He turned.

“How about a parting joke?”

Niresh grinned. “Okay, you asked for it. What do you get when you cross a stripper with a banana?”

Amrith had heard this before, but he dutifully replied, “I don’t know.”

“A self-peeling banana!”

Everything appeared restored between them.

Since their first meeting with Niresh and his father two days ago, Uncle Lucky had been troubled by Aunty Bundle’s stand on Amrith’s relatives. That evening, while Amrith was up on the terrace feeding the birds, he heard
them arguing in the side garden, their voices drifting up to him.

“No, Lucky, no, I will not have anything to do with them. Especially now, with Mervin robbing Amrith of Sanasuma. Stop asking me all the time. My first loyalty is to the memory of Asha.”

“And what about our boy, Bundle, what is your loyalty to him? Mervin and Niresh are, after all, his family.”

“Lucky! We are his family.”

“But, Bundle, they are his blood relatives. And the boys are getting along so well. Surely you have noticed the change in Amrith.”

Aunty Bundle was silent.

“You have to invite Niresh to our house.”

“Ah
, Lucky, don’t ask me to do that.”

“This is Amrith’s home. You say we are his family, but by forcing our boy to meet his cousin in Fort or at Mount Lavinia, you’re actually making him feel a stranger here.”

Aunty Bundle was silent for a long while. “I … I need some time to think about this.”

Amrith was lying down the next afternoon when Aunty Bundle knocked on his door and came into the room.

“Son,” she said, standing by his bed, “I’ve called your cousin and invited him to spend the day. Tomorrow, after I’m driven to work, Mendis will go by the hotel and pick him up.” She tried to smile, but failed. For a while she was silent, her fingers drumming on the bedpost as she
looked past the French windows into the side garden.

“Amrith, when I get back from work this evening, we must go to the Mount Lavinia Hotel. Since I have invited your cousin, good form requires that I must pay your uncle a courtesy visit.”

When their car pulled up in front of the hotel that evening, Niresh was waiting for them by the front steps.

Amrith was the first to get out. His cousin hurried forward and shook his hand without a word. He did not smile and glanced anxiously at Aunty Bundle, who was still in the car. Dreading this encounter, she was taking her time, telling Mendis about an errand she needed run.

Once the car had left, Aunty Bundle stood for a moment in the driveway, not looking at Niresh. She straightened the neckline of her blouse and pushed her handbag up under her arm. Then, with a deep breath, she came towards them.

“Hello, dear, how are you?” She smiled, but did not look him in the eye as they shook hands. “I am very pleased to finally meet you. I’m sorry I have not had you over before, but what with my work and everything, I haven’t had a moment. Now come-come, Amrith, let’s go and see your uncle.”

And with that, she hurried ahead of them into the foyer.

His uncle was expecting them on the terrace and Aunty Bundle led the way up there. Niresh and Amrith followed in silence.

When Aunty Bundle saw his uncle across the terrace, she was still for a moment, a great sadness passing over her face. She struggled to compose herself, then walked across to him, her head held high.

His uncle rose slowly from his seat, straightening his shirt, flattening his hair.

When Aunty Bundle reached the table, they both stood staring at each other.

“Hello, Mervin.”

“Hello, Bundle.”

In the pool, some children were calling to each other in a foreign language. There was a tinkling of glasses and ice from the bar.

“Thank you for inviting Niresh to spend the day,” his uncle said. “It is very nice of you.” There was a sheepish expression on his face.

“It’s a pleasure. The boys seem to be getting on so well, it would be nice for Amrith to have his cousin come home.”

She smiled at Niresh and Amrith. “Now, why don’t you boys walk around a bit and leave us adults to catch up?”

They left them alone but, without a word being spoken between the cousins, they did not go too far, as if fearing something bad might happen in their absence. They stayed at the other end of the terrace, making feeble attempts at conversation, but all the while looking in the direction of the adults.

His uncle and Aunty Bundle did not appear to be saying very much. They sat in awkward silence, every so often exchanging a few words. After a while, Aunty Bundle got up and shook his uncle’s hand. She came across the terrace and, as she drew near, Amrith could see how tense she was.

When they were in the car, Aunty Bundle leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. A sweat had broken out on her forehead and she scrambled through her handbag, took out her handkerchief, and mopped her face. Her hand was shaking.

Aunty Bundle dropped Amrith at the gates of their house, saying there was one more errand she had to run.

When she came home, an hour later, the rest of the family were out in the courtyard. Her sarong was dirty from kneeling in soil; she had been to his mother’s grave. Yet, instead of returning with red eyes, as she usually did, she was almost smiling. This meeting with his uncle had been difficult, but it seemed to have brought her some reconciliation with the past.

Uncle Lucky was seated in a Planter’s chair having a drink and, attracted by the radiance of her face, he took hold of her hand as she went by.

Aunty Bundle laughed as if she were a girl, and pulled her hand away. “What is this, men, embarrassing me.” She passed on into the house.

Amrith looked after her and felt a grudging respect.

T
he next morning, Amrith had dressed and eaten his breakfast before anyone else. After Mendis went to pick up Niresh, he wandered around the courtyard, then went to his room, only to come out again.