Blood Feud

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Blood Feud Page 8

by Brenda Donelan


  Dean Reddy greeted Marlee and escorted her into his office. “I have heard all about Raj’s assault, and that you were initially blamed for it. Please let me apologize on behalf of my country for this unspeakable error. I do hope you can forgive us and continue with your teaching and advising duties.”

  He was saying all the right things, but his body language was sending out a completely different message. Marlee felt sweat on the back of her neck start to roll down her back, a sure sign that something was wrong. Nonetheless, she knew she had to make nice with this man. Not only was he Raj’s boss, but he also had a strong influence on her role at Delhi University for the next few months.

  “Of course. It was a mistake, and I’m ready to put it behind us and move forward. In fact, I’m going over to Raj’s home now to visit him and make sure he is well.”

  A curt nod and stiff smile were his initial responses. When he did speak, it was more of the usual administrative doubletalk that meant nothing. “Please send him our best wishes. We hope that his convalescence is short, and that he will be back with us when he is feeling better.”

  Dean Reddy stood, and Marlee followed suit. She decided he was an untrustworthy man and did not want to ask him for Raj’s address. On her way out of his suite of offices, Marlee saw a young woman in a navy-blue skirt and blazer who looked official.

  “Do you work here?” Marlee asked. When the woman nodded her assent, Marlee asked if she knew Raj’s address. She promptly looked it up on a computer and wrote it down.

  “Can you find this on your own?” the woman asked, looking at Marlee skeptically.

  “Probably not.” Asking for help was something she rarely did. Unless she was in deep over her head, Marlee tried to figure out how to handle the situation or problem on her own. This was different. She was in a culture she knew very little about. From what she observed in the few days she’d been in India, you could easily be hit by a bus, car, or rickshaw when crossing the street. It would be her luck to get injured or to become hopelessly lost and not be able to find her way back to campus. All roads pointed toward disaster.

  “Wait one minute,” said the woman as she picked up the desk telephone and made a quick call. She spoke quickly in Hindi and within seconds another young woman appeared. “This is Riya Kapoor, and she will take you to Raj’s family home. She will wait until you are finished and then bring you back to campus. Is that acceptable to you, Miss?”

  Acceptable? Marlee was so thankful for this arrangement that she could have hugged both of them. After profusely thanking them both, Marlee exited the building with Riya by her side. Riya wore a turquoise blue sari trimmed with gold brocade and tan sandals. Her dark hair was partially covered by the scarf of the sari.

  As they walked, Marlee took the opportunity to find out more about Riya, the university, and Indian culture. The few times she had been around women, they seemed subdued and reticent to speak while in the presence of men. “Riya, I love your sari. It’s a beautiful color. I admire the women of India and the colorful clothing.”

  Riya gave a shy smile. “Thank you. I like the American style of dress too, but mainly I wear saris because it is what the women in my family all wear.” Upon further questioning, Riya disclosed that she was a graduate student studying engineering and that she also worked in the Liaison Office a few hours each week to help offset the cost of her educational expenses. She lived at home with her parents, three siblings, and their young children, her paternal grandparents, one uncle and his family, and a widowed aunt.

  “Wait, didn’t I see you at the breakfast for the visiting professors?” Marlee asked.

  “Yes. I am assigned to an American professor of literature.”

  “Raj told me that the graduate students never get to eat breakfast at these events. I think that’s terrible, and I plan to have a word with Dean Reddy. Maybe not right away, but before I leave Delhi University,” Marlee stated.

  “Oh, no. We always eat breakfast after everyone is finished. That gives our assigned professors a chance to ask us questions as they eat. I do not know why Raj said this.” Riya furrowed her brow.

  “How well do you know Raj?” Marlee hoped she could get a fuller picture of her mysterious friend, Raj, from this young woman with whom she already had a good rapport. In the few minutes they had been together, Marlee knew she could trust Riya, unlike Dean Reddy and his aura of malevolence.

  “I have worked in the Liaison Office for a year, but I do not know him well,” Riya said, clearly holding back much more than she knew. She glanced at Marlee and then averted her eyes repeatedly.

  “Look,” Marlee said, laying it on the line. “I want to find out what happened to Raj. He’s not being entirely forthcoming with me. I don’t know if he’s scared of someone, or if he’s lying to me.”

  Riya continued shifting her glances between Marlee and the ground. They made their way to the bus stop without further conversation until Marlee couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh, come on! Out with it! I can see that you have something to say. I promise I’ll keep it to myself if you tell me. I won’t say anything to your superiors at work, and Raj won’t even know what we talked about. He has shared his deeply held secret with me, and his worries about what could happen if it is disclosed.”

  The shy smile appeared again as Riya chose her words. “Most of us on campus, at least the younger people, have heard rumors.”

  “You mean that he’s …?” Marlee looked over her shoulder as she spoke.

  Looking around frantically, Riya dropped her eyes to the ground. “No! Please do not say it out loud in a public place such as this.”

  Realizing that her nonchalant approach toward Raj’s homosexuality could have long-lasting implications for both Raj and Riya, Marlee whispered, “Let’s wait until we finish the bus ride to talk about this further.” The remainder of their time on the bus was spent jostling among other passengers as hordes of people got on and off the bus at each stop. After two stops, they were fortunate enough to find seats and no longer had to stand in the middle as others stared at them. Once seated, Riya pointed out a Hindu shrine and a Sikh temple.

  “I’d love to go back and look at them sometime,” Marlee said with an air of wistfulness. “We have nothing comparable in the state where I live.”

  “I would be happy to show them to you. On a weekend, perhaps?”

  “Oh, Riya, I would love that. Thank you! I really want to learn all about India and its religions while I’m here. So far I’ve only learned about arranged marriages and the Indian criminal justice system.”

  A small giggle escaped from Riya’s mouth, and she instantly placed a hand over her mouth. “I am sorry. It is not funny, but you have a way with words that makes me laugh. I mean no disrespect.”

  Marlee’s face lit up with a huge grin, knowing she and Riya had, in fact, established a rapport. Whereas she and Raj had connected when Marlee felt desperate and in need of guidance, she and Riya bonded more naturally. When they reached their stop, Riya guided her off the bus. Marlee was so thankful that Riya was her tour guide. Up to this point, Marlee had not seen anything that looked familiar. If I’d been on my own I never would have found this stop.

  Before reaching Raj’s home, they ducked into a small café and ordered tea. No one else was in the café, so they were able to talk freely without fear of being overheard. “So, you know about him?” Marlee asked, careful not to use Raj’s name since they were in his neighborhood even though half of the male population of India carried the same name.

  “Yes, and it seems to be getting more extreme.”

  Marlee furrowed her brow, unsure if Riya’s strange comment revealed a bias against gays, or if it was merely due to the language barrier. “He said he was afraid of losing his job, being kicked out of his family, and being arrested. My lawyer said those things rarely happen as long as one is discreet. What do you think?”

  “Some families are very traditional and would disown a child, so that could be true. There are several people
similar to Raj on campus, and they have not been fired nor arrested, so I do not think that is as big of a threat as he claimed.” Riya blew on her cup of chai before taking a sip. “If he did not announce it, he would be free to carry on with his life at university and in society.”

  “Do you know Raj’s family or anything about them?” Marlee asked, taking a drink of her jasmine tea before remembering that in India tea is served in the British tradition, which is just off boiling. She grabbed the cloth napkin and used it to both fan her mouth and spit some of the tea into it. “Jeez, I forgot how hot the tea is here. Back home it’s hot, but not this hot! There was a lady who won a huge lawsuit because her coffee was almost boiling hot, and it severely burned her.”

  “In India, we learn to adapt to dangers. Hot tea is not very high on our list of problems,” Riya stated.

  A blush crept to Marlee’s cheeks as she thought about the multitude of other problems faced by the people of India; poverty, disease, and pollution to name a few. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  Riya waived her hand. “No need to be sorry. I know what you mean. It is difficult to be in an unfamiliar country and to adapt to new ways. I am guessing that most people in your country would not embark on a trip to India. Last year, I spent two weeks in New York City, and I am still traumatized from it.”

  “I live in South Dakota, which is nothing like New York. I’m a little bit traumatized from my last trip there too!” Marlee laughed and Riya joined her as they shared experiences dealing with the subway, Times Square, and Central Park. “I love to visit New York City, but I wouldn’t want to live there.”

  “I do not think I will visit there again. America, yes, but New York City, no. My next trip to the United States will be to California, so I can meet the stars of Hollywood,” Riya said. Marlee smiled, remembering how that was also important to her when she was in her early twenties. Now in her forties, she valued reliable transportation, comfortable hotels, and tasty food.

  Circling back to the topic of Raj, Marlee asked, “Who do you think assaulted Raj? Did he have any enemies on campus?”

  “Academia is vicious, as I am sure you know. There are several people who would like to have his position as Senior Liaison at university but not enough to assault him. I do not know his family, so I cannot attest to their behavior.”

  “When you heard that Raj was beaten up and left for dead, who did you immediately think of as the attacker?” Marlee asked.

  Shaking her head back and forth, Riya whispered, “It is not for me to say. I do not know for sure and do not want anyone to be arrested because I thought they were guilty.”

  “But don’t you want Raj’s attacker or attackers to be held accountable? Do you want this type of thing to happen to somebody else? And remember, Raj could have died from his injuries. Maybe that was what his attacker hoped.” She was pouring it on thick, but it was the only way Marlee knew to get Riya to disclose her beliefs.

  “I cannot believe I am saying this. And please realize I have no proof. My first thought when I heard Raj was beaten was that Dean Reddy from the Liaison Office was responsible. I have always disliked him, and I think he would like nothing more than to rid his office of Raj.”

  “Why is that, Riya?” Marlee enquired.

  “He knows of Raj’s proclivities and takes a firm stance against gambling. He has made comments to that effect in the past, although not directed at Raj,” Riya stated, dabbing her wet eyes with a napkin.

  “Gambling? Raj is a gambler?” Marlee asked, confused.

  “Yes, that is what I have been telling you.” Riya was too polite to outwardly show exasperation, but her body language betrayed her.

  “I thought you were talking about Raj’s homosexuality,” Marlee said, wondering how their lengthy conversation had gone in two different directions.

  “Raj is not a homosexual,” Riya said in a low voice. “He has had many love interests that I am aware of, and they were all women.”

  “You’re telling me that what may have led to Raj’s assault was gambling and not that he’s gay? What’s the big deal about gambling? Did he owe some money?”

  “Gambling is heavily restricted in India, and only a few types are permitted. Raj was involved in illegal gambling, and that attracts a dangerous crowd. That is all I know,” Riya said.

  “You said you initially suspected Dean Reddy of beating up Raj. I got a really creepy feeling from the dean when I spoke with him this morning. Tell me more about him.”

  Riya took a sip of chai and let it slide down her throat before she spoke. “He is not a nice man. He is responsible for one of my friends being terminated from her employment in his office. Dean Reddy also had my cousin expelled from university. He said she and two others cheated on a chemistry exam. My cousin said the others cheated, and she knew about it, but she did not cheat. Still, she was expelled and cannot return to university. No one will give her a recommendation, so she cannot go to any university. Her life is ruined, and it is because of Dean Reddy.” Riya continued with a list of things she didn’t like about her boss, including his arrogance, treating women like they were subhuman, and not washing his hands after using the restroom.

  Satisfied that she now had a clearer picture of Raj and how he was perceived on campus, Marlee urged Riya toward Raj’s home. She didn’t know what to expect as they approached the grand but decaying residence. Would Raj’s brothers become violent with her and Riya? Would Raj’s parents forbid her from talking to their son? Did the parents know who nearly killed Raj?

  The enormous front door swung open. Mommy-ji stood before them, eyebrows raised. “Our decision was final. Your charts do not align, and you cannot marry our son.”

  “That’s not why I’m here. I came to visit him as a friend, and I brought Riya Kapoor from his office. We want to talk to him and see that he is healing from his injuries. I am not here to talk about marriage, just friendship,” Marlee said, feeling it was best not to get into the fact that she didn’t want to marry Raj or anyone else. Mommy-ji would only take it as an insult if Marlee proclaimed she wasn’t interested in Raj. Plus, she wouldn’t believe a word of it; believing her son was a great catch.

  “One moment while I check to see if Raj is well enough to receive visitors,” said Mommy-ji as she marched toward the back of the house. Not knowing what else to do, Marlee and Riya stepped inside and closed the door behind them. Loud voices were heard drifting from another room, although the words couldn’t be deciphered. It sounded like Mommy-ji and someone other than Raj were having a disagreement.

  Ajay, Raj’s eldest brother strode toward Marlee and Riya, his face flushed and his eyes shooting daggers. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, looking directly at Marlee. “Raj does not wish to speak to you or anyone else. He asked me to tell you to go away and never come back!”

  It is better to sit down than to stand, it is better to lie down than to sit, but death is the best of all.

  Indian proverb

  Chapter 11

  At the further insistence of Raj’s brother, Marlee and Riya walked out of the house. Once on the edge of the property, they stopped and turned around. Ajay stood in the open doorway shooting a menacing look at the two, discouraging them from returning.

  “Why won’t they let us see Raj?” Marlee asked Riya, wondering if there was some type of cultural reason they couldn’t visit their friend. “Is it unacceptable to visit people when they are recuperating?”

  “I spend much of my Saturdays going with my mother to visit sick relatives and friends. It is very much an accepted, even expected, practice in India. In all the years I have visited the ill, I have never been turned away. Even if someone were on their death bed, they would not turn away visitors. My mother would be mortified by the actions of this family!”

  Not being overly concerned with the breach of etiquette, she instead concentrated on how they could meet with Raj. “Where do you think his bedroom is in this huge house? There have to be other ways to get in
other than the front door.” Marlee let her eyes float around the exterior of the house, not noticing any other doors on the main floor or ladders to the upper floor windows. Some vines trellised up the corner of the house, but attempting to shimmy up them was not an option.

  “Riya, would you be willing to come back here with me tonight? I bet we can find a way in when it’s dark.” Marlee was already planning to wear black yoga pants and black jacket so she would blend in with the night. If they could nose around undetected, she felt confident they could get into the house. Once inside, they would need luck on their side to find Raj before they were discovered by another member of Raj’s family.

  “Oh, no. I would be too scared to do something such as that. You should be afraid too. What if one of Raj’s brothers catches you in the house? And what if you do get inside and then Raj does not want to speak with you? Maybe his brother was telling the truth earlier when he said Raj wanted us to leave.”

  “I don’t think so. When I talked to Raj on the phone earlier today, he wouldn’t tell me who assaulted him in the faculty lounge. He sounded a bit strange, but I figured it was because it hurt him to breathe with broken ribs and other injuries. He was pleasant enough and never said anything about me not having contact with him. Raj was adamant that I not ask again about who assaulted him or he would ask to have me reassigned to someone else from the Liaison Office,” Marlee replied, still surveying the enormous house, trying to think of a way to get inside.

  The two made their way back to campus, talking little about the day’s events. Marlee’s head was spinning in different directions trying to figure out the best way to talk to Raj. Riya mistook her silence for anger and finally said, “I will go with you, but I must insist that we bring my uncle with us.”

  There were a hundred and one things wrong with that plan. “Riya, I know things are much different in India than what I’m used to in the United States, but I don’t need a male chaperone. I’m perfectly capable of handling this alone as long as I have one other person with me who knows how to get there and then get back to campus. Besides, how old is your uncle? We don’t want some old guy slowing us down.”

 

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