Outlaw in India (13 page)

ORANGE AND BLACK RICKSHAWS
, pink and purple buses, black cars,
white cars, bicycles, trucks and cows pressed close all around us. We were stuck
in traffic. Drivers were honking their horns but no one was going anywhere.
Radji and the rich man were so wrapped up in their game they never saw any of
it.

I didn’t know why I wanted Radji to win so badly but I did. It felt like more
than a game to me. The rich man held such an air of importance, as if his time,
his money and his person were all more important than Radji, a ten-year-old boy
who couldn’t even read or write, who just happened to have been born an
Untouchable, who had run away from home
and been living in a
hole in the wall of an ancient warehouse, where I found him. Radji was a good
person. I knew it. And he had his whole life ahead of him. He deserved so much
more than he had, or that anyone seemed to want him to have. Somehow, if he
could just beat the rich man at chess, it felt like that would prove to everyone
that they were wrong about him.

But the worst possible thing happened: the rich man took Radji’s queen. It
happened so quickly I didn’t have a chance to warn him. Radji had pulled his
queen out to attack the rich man’s bishop, but the rich man very cleverly placed
his own queen in such a way as to force Radji to choose between losing either a
pawn or a bishop, and that distracted him; he didn’t see the real danger. He
moved his bishop to safety, and the rich man rushed in and took his queen. He
made a strange grunting sound as if he were an animal but he was just really
excited. Radji was breathing so hard now I was worried about him. And yet he
didn’t despair, and he never stopped trying. He did his very best to the end.
And then, something wonderful happened.

The rich man had been on a roll. With Radji’s queen gone, he began attacking
his other pieces and it didn’t seem possible for Radji to stop him. The end was
coming soon. Radji was concentrating very intensely on the position of his king,
though I wasn’t certain why. And then I saw what he had done: he had positioned
his king such as to create a stalemate. The rich man didn’t see it coming; he
was just so confident
he was going to win. But he didn’t win.
All he managed to do was force a stalemate so that nobody could win. The game
ended a tie. I couldn’t help it; I burst out: “Woooo Hoooo!” The rich man stared
in shock. “No! No! It can’t be! No!”

But it was.

The traffic moved a little and stopped again. Men pushing carts leaned close to
the car and stared in out of fascination at the rich man sitting opposite the
poor boy. The sun was high and it was hot but I thought I could smell water.
Hollie’s nose was twitching wildly. It must have been the river. I raised my
head to see that Seaweed was gone. I looked up and thought maybe I saw him in
the sky. But perhaps he was already down at the water somewhere, mingling with
other seagulls.

Radji cleared the game and set it up again. He always set the game slowly and
methodically, as if it were a ceremony. The rich man was upset. I didn’t know
why he didn’t just get out of the car now. It may not have been the best
neighbourhood, but he could find a telephone and call someone if he wanted. But
he didn’t appear to want to. He couldn’t seem to let the game go. And sure
enough, as soon as Radji put all the pieces in order, the rich man moved his
pawn and they started another game.

The traffic moved a little and we went down the street. While Radji and the
rich man lost themselves in their game, Hollie and I stared out the window at
the pretty pink buildings. The closer we came to the river, the more colourful
the
houses became. This city was old,
really
old, like
thousands of years old. And it felt like it. Melissa kept her hands on the wheel
with the patience of an elephant. She appeared to have something on her mind. I
wondered what it was. She was squinting her eyes and it wasn’t for the sun. Was
she feeling nervous about putting her brother’s ashes in the river?

I turned around in my seat to watch the game. Radji was in danger of losing his
knight again. I leaned closer and tried to catch his eye. He looked up at me. We
stared at each other for just a second and he said, “No quarter.” I smiled at
him. He wanted no help. He wanted to play the rich man on his own. I respected
that. I turned around and looked out the window again with Hollie.

The rich man beat Radji. It took him awhile though. Radji hung on for as long
as he could. And though he tried to force a stalemate again, the rich man was
ready for it this time. The game ended just as we turned a corner where a crowd
of pilgrims were carrying a statue through the street. It had the head of an
elephant, the body of a man, four arms and a big fat belly with a snake wrapped
around it like a belt. “Ganesh!” Melissa said. “The god of new beginnings. His
belly is full of sweets.”

We stared as the procession went past. The rich man was beaming. He seemed
awfully happy for a middle-aged business man who had just beat a ten-year-old
boy at chess. He couldn’t help himself. But as Ganesh teetered gently past us in
the other direction, such that we were all given a close look,
the rich man’s gaze fixed upon the god and his eyes went all dreamy. Then
he glanced down at his watch and was pulled back into the real world. “Oh! Oh, I
must go!” He stuck his head out the window and looked all around. “Where are we?
Oh, yes, I know this place!” He pulled his head back inside and looked at us as
if he were seeing us for the first time. “Where are you going now?” he said.
“Why have you come to Varanasi?”

I didn’t know how to answer him exactly so I reached down and lifted the urn
off the floor and raised it up so that he could see it. He nodded respectfully.
“And Radji,” I continued, nodding my head towards Radji, “has come to bathe in
the Ganges.”

The rich man no longer carried anger on his face. Now that he had beaten Radji,
he was suddenly friendly and full of energy. He stared at Radji with curiosity.
“You have come to bathe in Mother Ganga?”

Radji nodded his head.

“From where have you come?”

Radji didn’t know how to answer, so I did. “From Ernakulum.”

The rich man raised his eyebrows. “All the way from Ernakulum? Just a boy?” He
looked down at his watch. “You know you must go to different ghats, to bathe and
to spread your ashes?”

Melissa turned her head slightly. “Oh?”

“Yes, yes! You must! Different ghats for bathing and ashes.”

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”

He stared at his watch as if he were trying to make an im
portant decision. He looked at Radji again and then he made it. “Turn
here,” he said to Melissa firmly. “I will take you to the ghats myself. Turn
here!”

Melissa did as she was told and followed his directions. We left the main road
and drove through narrow streets lined with tall buildings. Even though it was
sunny, the buildings cast dark shadows into the street. There weren’t many cars
here but it was a challenge for Melissa to navigate through the rickshaws,
people and cows. It became so narrow and crowded it felt like we were driving
underneath things.

We came to a dead end. “We get out here,” said the rich man. He got out of the
car. I put Hollie in the tool bag; we rolled up the windows, climbed out and
locked the car. I saw the rich man talking to some young men on the street. He
handed them money. He was paying them to watch the car for us.

Melissa, Radji, Hollie and I followed the rich man between some buildings and
we came out at the crest of a hill. Below us lay the river. The Ganges. My first
thought was that it flowed slowly like chocolate milk. It was brown and smooth
and wide. There were lots of narrow boats, like dories, and swarms of people
bathing in the water or standing on the steps next to it. The steps came all the
way up the hill. The saris of women spread below us like colourful flames. Many
people were in white, and many had pulled their pant legs up as far as they
could go and were stepping into the river that was their goddess. It was such a
colourful scene. I even wondered if the river could really be a goddess.

The rich man pointed down the steps to a platform beside
the
water. There were a lot of steps. “Down there,” he said. Then he pointed
downstream. “Over there for ashes.” Melissa nodded to show she understood, but
didn’t say anything. We were all a bit overwhelmed, for different reasons. I
looked at Radji. He looked at me. His eyes were as wide as saucers. I wondered
what he was thinking. The rich man turned to go. I watched him. He went about
ten steps, stopped, turned around and stared at Radji, who hadn’t moved an inch.
He was fixed in his spot. The rich man breathed deeply, stood as tall as he
could and looked down at the little boy. Then he came back. “Come,” he said to
Radji, “I will show you.”

While Melissa, Hollie and I followed, the rich man took Radji’s hand and led
him down the steps of the ghat. He stood out from most people there because he
was wearing a dark suit, and it was so expensive. But that wasn’t what made
everyone stare as much as the fact that he was walking down hand in hand with a
poor young boy. But the rich man didn’t care what anyone thought. He had made up
his mind.

At the bottom of the steps he took off his shoes, socks, jacket, shirt and tie.
He rolled up his pants and showed Radji how to do the same. Radji took off his
t-shirt. The rich man held out his hand, Radji took it once more and together
they stepped into the river. The rich man reached down, cupped the water with
his hands and washed his face. Radji did the same. The rich man lowered his arm
into the water and washed it with the other, then reversed them. Radji imitated
him exactly. The rich man watched this, and then . . . he started to
laugh. It was a small laugh at first, but it grew into a
great big belly laugh, which reminded me of the statue of Ganesh, as if Ganesh
were there in the river, rolling his big belly in laughter. The rich man lowered
his head and scooped water over it. Radji did the same. Then he dropped his
hands onto both of Radji’s shoulders and said something to him that I couldn’t
hear. I saw Radji nod his head. Then they stepped out of the river and dressed.
The rich man came past us, smiled, bowed his head, and kept going. We watched
him climb the steps and disappear. Then Radji came. He had a funny look on his
face, what I imagined a bird might look like the very first time it flew.

THERE WERE THOUSANDS
of people at the river but not a single
policeman or guard or attendant of any kind, just crowds of people everywhere,
sitting, praying, talking, singing, dancing, laughing, meditating, walking
around, bathing, swimming, throwing a ball, holding serious discussions, eating,
sleeping, and doing absolutely nothing. It was a place to come to do nothing,
and by doing nothing, feel everything. And yet, as I stared at the river and
forgot about everything else for a while, I felt a longing grow inside of me to
get back to the sub and go back to sea. India was a fascinating place for sure.
I loved it, and I loved the experience of being here, but I really belonged at
sea, as did Hollie and Seaweed, and we
were ready to go back.
I didn’t know what to do about Radji, though.

We climbed the steps and made our way through the colourful crowds to the ghats
downriver, where there were makeshift pyres for burning bodies and black,
charred spots on the flat stones of the quay. We could see them from above. How
strange that this was a place where people carried dead family members, to set
them on fire and burn them into ashes and spread their ashes in the river.

In fact, burning a body wasn’t an easy thing to do. It took a
lot
of
wood. And I had read that many families simply couldn’t afford enough wood to
burn the bodies entirely before putting them in the river, and that it was
common for corpses to float away in the arms of Mother Ganga, charred and
blackened, hardly ashes at all. There were crocodiles in the river too, and
porpoises, though it was supposed to be terribly polluted now, which was hardly
surprising. Yet to practising Hindus the river would always be a goddess.

Now that we were here, Melissa was uncomfortable. She carried the urn like a
baby in her arms. It didn’t help that this ghat had a feeling so unlike the
other ones that were crowded with people and happy sounds. This place was quiet
and almost deserted. There was something a little eerie about it even, probably
because of the black stains on the stones, where bodies had been burned.

We followed Melissa slowly down the steps until she stopped halfway. She had
taken off her wide sun hat and was standing
bare-headed
beneath the sun. Her hair was white and thin. She looked so much older here
somehow, with her white skin, white hair and white clothes. She had been born in
India and lived here all her life. And yet, I had a sense of her not really
belonging here. But she did. This was her home.

She hesitated. She turned around and looked at us with a confused expression.
She didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do either. She turned and
stared at the river. Then she looked around again, and I saw that she was
crying. I felt so sorry for her, I really did, but I did not know what to do. It
seemed that this was her business and so I left her alone.

Radji didn’t. He went down the steps and stood beside her. And then, as if he
were an old man and she a young girl, he reached up and took her hand. Together
they climbed down the steps to the quay. Hollie and I stayed where we were and
watched. It didn’t take long. They went right to the water’s edge, stood and
stared at the river. They were talking but I couldn’t hear them. They looked
upstream and down. They looked up at the sun. Then Melissa opened the urn and
shook the ashes into the water. They stood and watched them sink. I couldn’t see
them. Melissa threw the empty urn into the water too. Then she turned and hugged
Radji. They held hands again as they came back up the steps. Melissa’s face was
tear-stained but she was smiling. So was Radji. Nobody said anything. We climbed
the rest of the steps and searched through the alleys until we found the Jaguar,
and on top of the Jaguar, like a feathered god from a distant land, my first
mate.

Twilight fell by the time we were back on the highway and
heading southwest. The traffic leaving the city was nothing like it had been
coming in but it was still dark before we found a field with buses and tents. We
set ours up in the dark, had a late dinner of rice and veggies, lay down on our
mats and went to sleep. I never even heard Radji cry out or Melissa snore. We
were all so exhausted.

There were monkeys on Melissa’s house when we drove into the yard. Seaweed flew
onto the roof immediately, and, with a loud squawking and wild flapping of his
wings, chased them off. The monkeys might have hurt him if they hadn’t been so
afraid of him. But they didn’t know the difference. Fear is a mysterious
thing.

Radji and I helped Melissa carry the picnicking things into the house and we
put the tent away. Then we went down to the boathouse to see that the sub was
all right. It was. The sight of it excited me. I was so anxious now to get back
to sea, though I didn’t know what to do about Radji. In some ways he was like a
younger brother to me. But I was from Canada, and was a Canadian citizen. He was
from India. He didn’t even have a passport. He couldn’t read or write. I knew I
could teach him though; he was really smart. He’d learn fast. Then maybe he
could get citizenship in Canada. But did I want him to join the crew
permanently? And did he want to? I didn’t even know. I really didn’t know what
to do. Perhaps Ziegfried would know.

I was long overdue for calling Ziegfried. So I climbed into
the sub, with Radji and Hollie, turned on the short-wave radio and got
comfortable. It would be morning in Newfoundland. Maybe I could reach him. I
tried for an hour but found nothing. I wondered where he might be. And then,
suddenly, I heard his voice. He was calling me from another frequency, and he
sounded so clear. That was strange. That meant he was at another location. I
wondered where he was.

“Ziegfreid! Is that you?”

“Al! I’ve been trying to reach you for days!”

“Where are you? How come you’re so clear? I can hear you like you’re in the
next room. Where are you?”

“Al. I’m in Mumbai.”

“What? You’re in Mumbai? Are you kidding me? Are you really? Are you really
here?”

My eyes filled up. I was so excited I could just cry.

“Al. I’m coming down to see you. I’ll meet you in two days at the train station
at Old Goa. Okay?”

“Oh boy, you bet! I can’t believe it! I’m so happy!”

“I’m bringing a big surprise, Al. A big one.”

“I don’t care, the biggest surprise is that you’re here. I can’t believe it.
How . . . how did you decide to come?”

“Will tell you all about it in two days. You’ll be there, will you?”

“I sure will.”

When we climbed out of the sub and went across the yard I felt as though I
could fly. I was so deeply happy. I had two
days to wait, two
agonizingly long days to wait, but Ziegfried was here in India. It was the most
wonderful gift I could ever have asked for.

We spent the next two days cleaning out the garage and reorganizing it. It was
good to be busy doing something. But what a dusty job! We pulled everything out
into the sunshine and swept the floor clean. We found three snakes: two dead
ones that looked like old belts and one live one. The live snake hissed at us
and Hollie barked at it until it slithered into the woods. It didn’t like us
following it but we had to, to make certain it didn’t stay close to the house.
Melissa came out to look at the garage when we were finally done. She was
immensely pleased. She seemed to be giving Radji all the credit, but I didn’t
mind. They had formed a special bond now, ever since Varanasi. She would ask his
opinion on things even though he was only ten, and he would give it after a lot
of consideration, as a much older person would do. If I believed in
reincarnation, I would have said that Radji used to be a very wise old man who
had been born again as a boy. Seaweed would have been a great warrior, and
Hollie would have been a happy sailor, well, he was a happy sailor still.

Finally, it was time to go to the train station. I thought it would never come.
Melissa was planning to invite Ziegfried to stay at her house. Boy, was she in
for a surprise. So was Radji. So was Hollie and Seaweed. I wondered what they
would think when they saw Ziegfried in India. Ziegfried was originally
from Germany, but had lived in Newfoundland for so long and
had adopted its ways so completely that I thought he belonged there every bit as
much as my grandfather or anybody else. My grandfather’s grandfather had come to
Newfoundland a hundred years ago. In Newfoundland a hundred years seemed like a
long time but here in India it was nothing. There were only two fishermen
standing in front of my grandfather. There were hundreds of field workers
standing in front of Radji.

We arrived at the station before the train. Seaweed rode on the roof. I hadn’t
taken the box off yet. Hollie jumped out but stayed close to me. There were lots
of dogs at the station, though they were friendly. Hollie could tell that I was
excited, and he was like my shadow. I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my hands.
Radji wanted to play chess but I couldn’t sit still to concentrate. So he asked
Melissa, which he didn’t like to do because she took so long to make a move and
she said everything out loud, which irritated him. Nobody took chess as
seriously as Radji.

When I saw the train in the distance I felt my heart jump into my throat. I
suddenly realized how much I had missed Ziegfried. It had been almost six months
since we left Bonavista Bay. We had been through the Arctic, down and around the
Pacific, and over here to India. We had been trapped in the ice, thrown around
by gigantic waves, caught in typhoons, and I had been shot in the arm. So much
had happened. I felt older now. Travelling has a way of aging you faster than
anything. Every time we sailed somewhere we came back
different from when we left. But this time we hadn’t come back. We had travelled
too far. We were on the other side of the world and it would take at least
another six months to get back.

Ziegfried always stayed the same. He was like a father to me, and a brother and
a friend. He had made more difference in my life than anyone else, and if it
hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t even be here. I’d be fishing for a living with
my grandfather.

I also missed Sheba. But I missed her in a different way. If Ziegfried taught
me to be strong and smart and look after myself in the world, Sheba taught me to
be more aware and caring of people and animals and things. She taught me to care
even about little things, and that you didn’t have to be a genius or a
billionaire to make the world a better place to be. All of the little things
that you did every day added up to a big difference. That was part of her magic,
and I always felt in awe of her, the way she looked after her animals or watered
her flowers or spoke to ghosts. If there were angels on earth, then Sheba was
one.

The train rolled to a silent stop. Now I was the one who was breathing deeply.
Hollie kept looking up at me nervously. “It’s Ziegfried, Hollie. It’s
Ziegfried!” Hollie wagged his tail at the sound of Ziegfried’s name. I stared
down the length of the train. Which door would he come out? I saw other people
get off but not him. I waited but didn’t see him. Suddenly I
felt worried that maybe he hadn’t come. And then, all I saw was an arm, but
I knew it was him—way down the platform. It was such a big arm. It reached out
with a suitcase in hand. Then, he stepped out. As big as I knew him to be, he
looked bigger. He towered over the people around him. He put down two suitcases,
then two more. Four suitcases? Why so many? Was his surprise in the suitcases?
No. It was something else. He reached his arm up into the train and out stepped
Sheba.