Ultimate Justice

by Ultimate Justice (epub)

  “I never knew you were married,” said Jalli.

  “Oh I wasn’t when you were here. I got married about fifteen years ago. You know my wife.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes. Do you remember the literature teacher, Miss Pammy Falminta?”

  “Yes. I think so. I didn’t have her myself. She wore short skirts and some of the boys pretended to fall over and tried to take naughty pictures. One got caught! But she’s much younger than you.”

  “She is. I think it was my maturity that attracted her.”

  “You mean you didn’t try and take pictures up her skirt in the staff room.”

  “Quite the opposite. It was I who dealt with the boy who did. She thought I was such a gentleman. We went out for a drink and, well the rest is history. You must come back to our house. We have a little girl. She’s nine now. I… we… called her Jallaxanya.”

  “A beautiful name!” said Jack.

  “I am so happy for you!” declared Jalli and planted a big kiss on Mr. Bandi’s cheek.

  “Steady on! Someone might rush out and knock me down.”

  Jack laughed.

  Jalli breathed in the fresh Raikan air. A hint of ripening ibon was drifting in from the surrounding fields. She looked across the clearing. “It’s there… over there. That’s the way to the hive where… it happened,” breathed Jalli. “What happened to those parmandas? I never asked – I was too engrossed in my own troubles.”

  “Oh, they rebuilt the hive.”

  “So, we can’t all go there, together,” remarked Jack.

  “The rules were changed after what happened to you and the problems that led up to it. At first they wouldn’t allow anyone to go alone without a qualified park ranger. Now we even allow small groups and, because we never go too close and we’re always still and quiet, the parmandas have got used to it. They seem to know the park rangers will keep them safe.”

  “The parmandas haven’t ever gone for anyone else?” asked Jack.

  “Never. What happened then was very rare. But it wouldn’t be if we damaged their hives.”

  “So we can all go up there? Together?” asked Jalli.

  “We can.”

  “Let’s go,” said Jalli. Jack detected the quaver in his wife’s voice. There was both fear and determination. Holding her hand he also detected doubt and urgent excitement. She gripped him tightly and pulled him forward. Jack was not afraid. He had not been all those years ago. He was angry. He had this overwhelming need to protect his Jalli. It was the sense of failure all those years ago that came back to him. Despite more than twenty years of Jalli telling him otherwise, he still felt he had failed her.

  They reached the spot and Mr Bandi beckoned to them to keep quiet.

  Jack heard it first and squeezed Jalli’s hand. The parmandas were active inside the hive. They listened for several minutes. Jack detected a subtle change in their tone. Jack put his arm around Jalli and held her.

  “I think they’re going to display,” he murmured into her ear.

  Then Jalli heard it too. After some minutes, few at first and then more and more insects emerged from the hive and began flying upwards and outwards. Others came from the trees and bushes to join them. Soon they were swirling and diving, swooping and dancing.

  “Wow!” whispered Jalli. She felt Jack pull her close and then tense. He had detected another slight change in the sound that emanated from the swarm. They were spiralling down towards the hive. Then, with a crescendo of sound that was really loud, they suddenly disappeared, each insect knowing exactly which of the three entrances belonged to it. As they moved across each other they made a sound like a slurp and then it all ended suddenly with a plop.

  Then there was silence, and all they were aware of was the calling of a bird in the distant woodland.

  “Wow!” exclaimed Jalli again, quietly. Mr Bandi exhaled, “Best I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen quite a few.”

  “They were waiting for us,” said Jalli. “This was for us. They put this on for us. I know they did!”

  “They were fantastic,” said Jack as they walked back to the centre.

  “It’s a pity you couldn’t see them,” sighed Mr Bandi.

  “No. But hearing them was fantastic enough.”

  “You knew what they were doing before it happened,” said Jalli. “I could feel it.”

  “I could sense them. There is a really special smell. It’s sort of sweet, like a flower, only more delicate. It increases when they are about to come out or go back in. You must have smelled it. It was really powerful at the end.”

  “I guess so,” said Mr Bandi. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “Jack can sense things with an intensity that sighted people often miss,” said Jalli. “You knew exactly what I was feeling up there didn’t you?”

  “Well, sort of. It was all mixed up. You’re glad you went though, aren’t you?”

  “I am. Those parmandas, they wanted to give me a good time. They wanted to heal my memory.”

  “They know you love them,” said Mr Bandi.

  “Oh, I do! They, Jack and me. We were all victims.”

  “And now you are bound up in the dance of love,” said Mr Bandi.

  “The Trinity,” said Jack, “God. That’s what Christianity says about God on Earth. It’s a divine dance of love. And God suffers when we suffer.”

  “And he rejoices and dances with us when we are set free!” exclaimed Jalli.

  “Free,” echoed Jack, his sightless eyes streaming with tears. Jalli saying they were all victims had struck a chord deep down. As victims they were bound together in something even more profound than the all-consuming delight they had experienced as young lovers. Love is something that underlies all existence and suffering is part of it. She who loves, suffers. That’s why Jesus had to die. The force of that verse that was so often said or pasted outside of churches in Jack’s England hit him. What was it: “God loved the whole of the world so much that he sent his Son to die for us,” or something like that. And then Jesus rose up and joined in the dance of the Trinity taking everyone with him.

  “Jack,” it was Jalli, “will you now forgive yourself?”

  “Forgive myself?”

  “That you let me down. You see when you came to rescue me, you loved me so much. You might not have overcome that man physically, but you towered over him spiritually and emotionally. He wanted me because he was empty, but because you did what you did he went away even more empty. He even knew the parmandas were on our side. If he had looked back he would have seen me bending over you. Perhaps no-one had ever bent over him and loved him. Poor man. Even the parmandas hated him. He had absolutely nothing. And I and you and the parmandas, we know we are loved, for ever.”

  “Caught up in the divine dance,” said Jack.

  “You two are such an inspiration. A breath of fresh air,” said Bandi.

  “Sorry, Mr Bandi. But this time is special to us.”

  “No need to be sorry. I’m privileged. You were decidedly my favourite student, but don’t tell the rest that.”

  “And you were definitely Jalli’s favourite teacher,” said Jack. “You should really hear about all the things she has been doing in Woodglade.”

  “I would love to. You must come to my house this evening and meet Pammy.”

  “And Jallaxanya. We’d love that.”

  “What time are we thinking of going home?” asked Jack.

  “Oh. Not today. I told the kids – on the note – not to expect us.”

  “But we need to check in somewhere if we’re going to stay overnight.”

  “You must stay with us. We have a spare room.”

  “But Mr Bandi. You haven’t asked your wife.”

  “I’ll phone her. But she won’t mind. In fact she’d love to see you. I’ll phone her now.”

  “You must tell me about your children. Only,” he said glancing out of his office window towards the red post, “I had better go now as I have a group w
aiting to be conducted around.”

  “Tell us where you live and what time,” said Jack, “and we’ll come to you.”

  “Just hold on…” Bandi took out his phone and held it to his ear. “Pammy, you’ll never guess. I’ve got Jallaxanya Rarga here… I know, a real surprise… Yes. I can’t talk now, I’ve got a group waiting, but can they come to us for dinner…? Sure.” He turned to Jack and Jalli, “Is there anything you don’t eat?” They shook their heads. “No… that’s fine… seven?” he looked up and Jalli nodded, “seven it is… sure. And, Pammy, they haven’t booked in anywhere yet… I agree… the room is made up? Great, Pammy. Must rush… love you… bye.”

  “OK, we eat at seven, and the room is already made up. So that’s settled. Where are you going now?”

  “Back to where I used to live,” stated Jalli. Jack concurred. He had half expected her to want to go there straight from the municipal park.

  18

  The number of the bus from Parmanda Park to where Jalli and Momori had lived for so long hadn’t changed. It took them through the middle of the city and on to the road leading west past Momori’s old house. This same road continued on into the countryside, eventually leading to the village of Zonga where Jalli was born – a village that had never been rebuilt after the devastating deluge that destroyed it and so many of its population.

  They got off the bus at the stop nearest the house and traced the same few metres that Jalli had done so many times as a youngster. She stood and looked at the house. It had changed. Subsequent owners had added an extension and put in new windows. Windows that Momori would not have liked. The curtains were chunky and bold and there was a big vase on the windowsill that Momori would have considered grotesque. The garden had been re-designed and there were little brightly coloured statues all over the grass. It was not at all Momori’s thing. (Her garden had been neat but soft.) In those days the house had been painted a pale cream. Now it was a vivid pink.

  “Not home?” asked Jack, as he stood next to his silent wife.

  “No,” she said. “It’s a house. A strange house with no Grandma.”

  “Grandma’s gone to her real home,” said Jack.

  “Yes. Pastor Ruk was right. I half thought of bringing her ashes here. But I’m glad I didn’t. When we get back I’m going to take them on a boat, and when we are out of sight of land, I’m going to tip them into the ocean.”

  “Beyond the horizon.”

  “Yes. She’s not in her ashes of course, but it will be a kind of sign that she has journeyed on. No-where in Wanulka, or Planet Joh, or anywhere in this universe can hold her any more.”

  “She’s dancing with God.”

  “Yes. She’s at home.”

  ***

  They found the Bandi’s house at a-quarter-to-seven. They thought they would walk on and come back nearer seven, but before they could do so, a little girl of nine years came bounding down the path that led to the front door.

  “Hi! Are you Jallaxanya?”

  “Yes. And you must be Jallaxanya too.”

  “Yay! You’re the lady that Daddy named me after.”

  “You were named after me?”

  “Yes. Daddy said you were his favourite student, and you were very brave, and very clever, and… and you liked insects like him. All except worms!”

  “Worms?”

  “I hate worms too. They’re so wriggly when you tread on them, because they come out when it rains and go on the path and you can’t always see them. Anyway, Daddy says that the lady I was named after didn’t like worms either – not like parmandas. They are my favourite insect. You went to Parmanda Park today. Daddy said… he likes ants too… and beetles…” Little Jallaxanya was swinging on the front of the gate facing outwards with her hands over the top behind her. She is clearly not a shy little girl, thought Jalli. She wondered if little Jallaxanya ever stopped talking.

  “…And …and,” she continued trying to think of something else to say.

  “Jalli, don’t keep our guests outside the gate! Let them come in,” called Mr Bandi. “Sorry, my little girl has really been looking forward to meeting you ever since she heard you were here in Wanulka. Do come in.”

  “Mummy, Mummy,” shouted the girl as she rushed ahead of them. “Mummy, they’re here!”

  “So I see,” said her mummy.

  “Hello Miss Falminta. It is nice to meet you again. I do remember you – just. You came as a teacher around my final year but you never actually taught me.”

  “I do remember you. Call me Pammy. And it’s Bandi now. I stopped being called Miss Falminta a long time ago.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Pammy,” said Jack extending his hand. “I’m Jack.”

  Pammy took his hand. “You are very welcome. Come on in.” Pammy ushered them into the sitting room and offered them a comfortable upholstered settee. “Paadi tells me you have children.”

  ‘Paadi’. Jalli reflected that she had never really heard Mr Bandi being called by his first name.

  “Yes, three… the youngest we named after your husband.”

  “Did you? What a remarkable coincidence!”

  “If it weren’t for your husband we may never have got married,” explained Jack. “he is very dear to us.”

  “I was having a… well, a bad time,” explained Jalli, “…and he came round to my house and told me not to be stupid.”

  “It wasn’t quite like that,” said Paadi Bandi. “I don’t think you would have listened if I had said that.”

  “No, you were much more subtle. But it boils down to the same thing. I was not thinking straight. I didn’t think Jack wanted me…”

  “And I thought it was she who didn’t want me,” added Jack.

  “So God sent us both a wise person to put us right,” went on Jalli, “and for me it was Mr Bandi. So you see, we named our first son after Jack’s dad and our second one after you.”

  “But you have three children?” said Pammy.

  “Yes. The eldest is a girl – Kakko.”

  “Who is just like you?”

  “Hardly,” said Jack. “She is very impulsive.”

  “Something of her mother in her then!” exclaimed Mr Bandi.

  Jalli rolled her eyes at him.

  “But she finds studying tedious,” added Jack, “and is quick to jump in. Quite extrovert.”

  “So only some of her mother. You were an excellent student, Jalli.”

  “But Kakko is very caring,” said Jack. “She has brought us much joy.”

  “I am sure,” said Pammy. “So tell us about Bandi, and Shaun.”

  Kakko, Shaun and Bandi would probably not have approved of being the subject of conversation, even with people on another world. But all parents want to talk about their children. The conversation that evening covered the present day and the past. Their families, the school, the biology department, the new head teacher set on change, the way things were with young people, what Jack and Jalli were involved in in Woodglade, the church they belonged to…

  Pammy went to see to the cooking. After a few minutes she reappeared.

  “Paadi, would you watch the vegetables while I show our guests the spare room?”

  Pammy led them upstairs pointing out the bathroom on the way. “I hope you will be comfortable here,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind a double bed?”

  “Not in the least, we use one at home,” said Jalli. Seeing herself in a mirror and becoming aware that not only did shorts not seem the right thing for an evening indoors but that there was a brown smudge on the side of them (and perhaps more round the back she couldn’t see), she added: “I am sorry we haven’t brought anything to change into.”

  “I can lend you something. We are about the same height I guess. Come on, let’s see what we can find.” Without time to object, Jalli followed her host into her bedroom.

  “What would you like? A dress might be easier. My trousers might be a bit baggy on you. Let me see.”

  She pulled out three a
nd laid them on the bed, then added two more. Jalli was taken with the colour of a green dress, not dissimilar in style to what she used to wear. It was sleeveless with a fitted bust but then flared free from a high waist. Jalli picked it up and put it against her. It was shorter than she originally thought, quite a bit above her knees. Yet Jalli had good legs. If she could get away with shorts she would have no problem with this, she surmised. But perhaps she should wear something longer. Pammy smiled.

  “That suits you. You would look good in that. It’s a good colour.”

  “Perhaps something longer,” ventured Jalli. She picked out a couple of the others.

  “Not as good as the green,” suggested Pammy. “Why don’t you try it on?” Jalli slid out of her shorts. When she saw them off, she felt ashamed. The back was marked by the brown dust from Parmanda Park. How could she have sat on Pammy’s settee! She should have guessed, she thought, as she remembered sitting on that log watching the parmandas; the Wanulka dust got everywhere anyway.

  “Sorry,” she said, “about your chair. I had no idea I was quite so dirty!”

  “No problem. Paadi comes home covered in dust every time he goes out. I sometimes think he crawls inside the insects’ holes after them! Give the shorts to me. And your top. I’ll put them in the washing machine. They’ll dry overnight.” Then Pammy held out the green dress for Jalli to put on. It fitted nicely. “Perfect! It was made for you!”

  “It’s lovely. Are you sure?”

  “Of course. Go and show Jack… oh, sorry, I forgot!”

  “Don’t worry. Jack has his own way of looking,” Jalli laughed. She walked out onto the landing and called Jack.

  “Jack. Check this out on me.” Little Jallaxanya came bounding up the stairs to look too.

  Jack coloured a little at being watched. He glided his hand lightly down the sides and back, then her front and to the hem.”

  “It fits well,” he said. “But you haven’t worn anything this short in years.”

  “I went into longer stuff when I was carrying Bandi and never reverted,” explained Jalli.

  “But I like it,” said Jack. “What colour is it?”

  “Leaf green, with bits of pink.”