“Oright.”
Sunaree had a great love for the tadpoles also, so she opened the ricebag. Balraj dropped the crappo fish inside the ricebag, and bent down in the water again.
Rama and Panday walked up to Sunaree. They were not walking easy as a fly walks; they were walking like mules; feet went splunk splunk splunk in the water.
“Rama and Panday all you walk easier dan dat,” Balraj told them. “Dese crappo fish smart like hell. Wen dey hear all you walkin hard hard dey go run away.”
Rama and Panday didn’t listen to Balraj. They held on to the ricebag. They opened it and peeped inside the bag. Their eyes were bulging like ripe guavas; they were trying hard to see the tadpoles that were in the bag, but they could not see anything. Rama sucked his teeth and said, “I want to go in dat bag.”
Sunaree told him he couldn’t go inside the ricebag, because he was going to kill the tadpoles.
“I want to go in dat bag too,” Panday declared.
“But I say all you cant go in dat bag. All you goin to kill de fish.”
Rama and Panday tried to pull the ricebag away from Sunaree. She was talking and begging them not to pull the bag; crying and begging them not to pull it away; crying not for her sake but for the tadpoles’ sake, because she wanted the crappo fish to live. But Rama and Panday pulled the bag away from her.
Balraj walked in the water. His back was bent as if he was an old man. He knew that the tadpoles were smart, so he watched them carefully. There were some crappo fish near the bamboo grass; there were hundreds of them; they were dancing and moving like a patch of blackness. Balraj walked quietly. He moved closer to them; they did not see him, because they were dancing in a group. He bent down. Slowly. He stretched his hands. Then wash wash his hands swept through the water. He turned around to put the tadpoles in the ricebag. Balraj just turned around and dropped them inside the bag. But there was no bag; the tadpoles fell back into the water. Balraj just stood and looked and looked at the tadpoles that were free again in the water, then he got mad like a bull. He looked. Rama and Panday were dragging the bag in the water.
“Wot de hell all you Join wid dat bag?”
“We just playin bredder,” Panday said.
“Now all you drop dat bag!”
Balraj couldn’t control himself. He ran up to them just like a horse. Rama and Panday dropped the bag in the water and started running towards the cashew tree.
Sunaree saw Balraj coming like a jackspaniard. She did not know what to do, so she just stood there and stared at Balraj. “Why you give dem two son of a bitches dat bag?”
“I not give dem it.”
“Den who give dem it?”
“I tell you dey take it deyself.”
Sunaree had long black hair; it was thick like grass. Balraj grabbed her hair and started kicking her in the water. She pushed Balraj, and he fell splash in the water. Sunaree wanted to run away, but she couldn’t run away; Balraj grabbed her hair again; he was pulling her hair as if he was going to pull out her head. Then he started dragging her in the muddy water.
Balraj couldn’t see Pa at all. Pa just stood in the banana patch like a big snake and watched all the time. Ma was busy, washing the clothes; she couldn’t see Pa either. Pa was just hiding and watching with poison in his eyes. Ma was just washing the clothes under the plum tree. Her back was bent low over the tub, and she was washing as if the clothes were rottening with dirt; she just bent over the tub and scrubbed like a crazy woman. Then she heard Sunaree bawling. Ma lifted her head. Balraj was still dragging Sunaree in the water.
Ma shouted, “Leggo dat chile Balraj!”
“I not lettin she go!”
“Boy I is you modder. I make you. You just lissen to me. Leggo she.”
“I not lettin she go!”
“I comin in dat wadder for you right now Balraj!”
Ma was fed up. She washed out her hands in the soapy water. Then she walked to the edge of the riceland. Ma was quarrelling and pointing at Balraj. Suddenly she stood up. She saw Pa. Ma turned around and walked back to the tub.
Pa came out of the banana patch.
“Now all you chirens come outa dat wadder!” he shouted. Pa had a voice like thunder. When he spoke the riceland shook as if God was shaking up Tola.
Rama and Panday were near the cashew tree. They were trying to hold the mamzels, but they moved like the wind. “Let we catch dem crabs,” Rama suggested.
“And do wot wid dem?” Panday asked.
“Kill dem.”
“It not good to kill notten.”
They had to be careful in the riceland. There were deep holes all over the place, especially near the cashew and barahar trees. The holes were not deep like a well or a river, but they were deep enough to drown Rama and Panday.
“It have crabs near dat barahar tree,” Rama said.
“It too deep by de barahar tree,” Panday told him.
“It not too deep. Dem red crabs livin in dem holes.”
“But dem holes deep deep.”
“I still goin to walk to de barahar tree,” Rama declared.
Rama began walking eastwards across the riceland. Panday was begging him not to go, but Rama was not listening; he was harden like a goat. But Rama couldn’t go. He and Panday heard when Pa shouted at Balraj and Sunaree. Panday and Rama ran out of the riceland, passed through the banana patch and went by the rainwater barrel. The rainwater barrel was almost touching the tapia wall at the eastern side of the house.
When Pa shouted, Balraj released Sunaree. She ran out of the riceland, passed Ma by the tub and went and joined Rama and Panday by the rainwater barrel, but Balraj remained inside the riceland. He stood up and looked at Pa; he was watching as if he was going to eat Pa; he was really playing man for Pa. Pa made an attempt to go in the water. Balraj was afraid; he ran to the eastern side of the riceland. He ran as fast as a cloud moves in the sky. Then he stood up on a meri on the other side of the riceland and looked at Pa.
“Now Balraj come outa dat wadder!”
“I fraid you beat me.”
“I not goin to do you notten boy.”
“Oright.”
Pa was smarter than a snake; he began to talk soft as if a child was talking. He said that he was not going to beat Balraj, because he was a child. He thought that Pa was talking the truth; he began to walk to meet him. Pa just stood there and looked at him; just stood on the edge of the riceland and waited as a snake.
Balraj walked slowly. His feet didn’t go splash splash in the water; they went splunk and splunk and then splunk as if a little child was walking in the water. He watched Pa with fear in his eyes as he came closer to the western edge of the riceland. Pa wasn’t backward; he was watching Balraj with snaky eyes. The wind was blowing cold cold. Balraj was trembling. His teeth went clax clax clax. The wind was blowing from the north. It was cold as ice cream, and Balraj was trembling and watching Pa. The sky was black as Sunaree’s hair, and Pa was watching Balraj. Balraj was almost out of the water. Pa leaned over the edge of the riceland and tried to hold his hand. Balraj ran splash splash. Pa ran eastwards along the rice-land bank; his feet went tats tats tats. There were many snakes in the riceland; they lived inside the deep holes near the barahar tree. Balraj was trying to keep away from the holes, because he was afraid of the snakes. Balraj was tired running. He just stood in the water and looked at Pa. Pa was mad. He jumped up and down on the riceland bank.
“Balraj come outa dat wadder!” Pa shouted.
“I fraid you beat me.”
“Boy com outa dat wadder!”
Balraj was afraid. He knew Pa was going to beat him real bad. Crax crax cratax doom doommm doomed! the thunder rolled. Balraj looked at the sky; it was blacker than a dream of snakes and evil spirits. Pa bent down and picked up dirt from the riceland bank. He s
tarted to pelt Balraj. Balraj was moving from side to side trying hard to get away from the dirt. Pa couldn’t hit him. Pa was in a rage; he was pelting as a madman. Then Pa shouted, “Now come outa dat wadder boy! I goin to pelt inside dem snake holes.”
Balraj made no effort to come out of the riceland. Pa kept pelting dirt into the deep holes. The water was bubbling and bubbling and bubbling; bubbling and bubbling as if it was boiling over with rage; it was boiling and bubbling as when a ricepot bubbles over a fireside, but Balraj just stood there and looked at Pa.
“You feel you is a big man?” Pa asked him.
“No.”
“Den come outa dat wadder!’’
“I (raid you beat me.”
“Den you is a big man?”
“No. I is a little little chile. Little little.”
“Well I goin to make a snake bite you ass!”
It was August, the middle of the rainy season. The rain was falling and falling and falling as if the sky was leaking or something. Sunaree, Rama and Panday were still by the rainwater barrel. Sunaree was holding the enamel dipper, but it slipped from her hand and fell in the yard. The dipper was dirty; full of mud all over. Rama and Panday were still naked. Trembling.
“I feelin cold.”
“Hush else Pa go bust you liver wid a kick,” Rama said. “Pa stupid,” Panday declared.
“Pa stupid like God.”
“Now God have big eyes and he seein wot all you Join,” Sunaree said.
“Somebody shouda hit God one kick and bust he eye!” Rama shouted.
Sunaree told Rama that God had great big eyes; God never winked; even if dirt or flies or smoke went into his eyes, he never winked; God never slept or drank or ate; he never sheltered with a leaf from the wind and the rain; he just lived in heaven and stared at the earth all the time.
And Rama: “Den God like a stone. He just like a stone I tell you.”
“You mean dat God does see wen Rama pee on me in de night?” Panday asked.
“Yeh,” Sunaree said.
Sunaree picked up the enamel dipper, rinsed it inside the rainwater barrel, and said, “Now Rama and Panday come on inside dat house.” She walked in front, and they followed her.
Balraj was still watching Pa; he was trembling like a banana leaf, but he was watching Pa. Pa was strong like a mango tree, so his teeth were not going clax clax clax, because he was not feeling cold.
Ma finished washing the clothes. She put them in the old bucket. She looked. Balraj was still inside the riceland. Ma said to Pa, “Dat chile fraid you. I bleed blood to make dat chile. Dat chile come from my belly after I carry him for nine monts. Now you let dat chile come outa dat wadder. I bleed blood to make dat chile!”
Pa spoke like a stone rolling down from a hill, “Now you just shut you kiss me ass moot woman! Shut it!”
Ma talked back as water falling from a house roof. She complained that Pa was not acting as a father at all. Pa had no heart because he was running Balraj in the riceland. She threatened that if anything happened to Balraj in the water, she was going to walk the three miles to Tolaville; walk the three miles just to get a policeman to lock up Pa.
“Kiss me ass!” Pa shouted.
And Ma talked again; she talked as a spider that is full of poison. Pa hated the way she talked. He began to pelt more dirt into the water. The water was still bubbling. Pa aimed carefully. He threw the dirt. It fell plunk inside one of the deep holes. A huge water snake came to the surface of the muddy water.
Balraj started to run in the water. The snake moved clips clips clips. Fast. Faster. The snake moved as oil on the water.
Balraj knew that the snake was chasing him, so he didn’t look back. The snake went just a little way and turned back. But Balraj thought that the snake was following him; he ran out of the riceland and went by Ma. It was only when he reached by Ma that he looked back. There was no snake.
Pa was serious. He ran by the tub. There was not a laugh or a smile on his face; he just came by the tub to beat Balraj. “Behave youself and leff me son alone!” Ma shouted. “Shut you kiss me ass mout woman!”
Pa held Ma real hard beside the tub; he was pulling her; just pulling and pulling as if he was uprooting a sapodilla tree.
Ma held on to Balraj, and he was holding on to the hog plum tree. Pa tried his best to kick Balraj, but Ma was in his way. Pa was sweating and blowing. “I goin to drownd you in dat tub woman!”
“Balraj is a little chile. You is a big man. You have no right to make a snake run him in dat wadder. But it have a God and he watchin from dat sky.”
“God coud kiss me ass!”
“Well wen a man coud cuss God he deserve to dead!”
Pa hated Ma and he hated Balraj, so he picked up Ma as if he was picking up a little child and he held her in the air. Ma bawled like a cow hard hard hard. She tried to hold the hog plum tree, but she couldn’t meet it. Ma didn’t want to go inside the tub; she was turning and twisting as a worm; just turning and twisting and bawling; just bawling and trying to get away. The water in the tub was full of soap suds. Pa held her high, and he held her tight as a tree holds another tree. Ma was bawling and getting on; getting on and calling God, but the sky was black and God was only watching with his big eyes from heaven; he was not even trying to help Ma a little. Pa turned her over and pushed her face inside the tub; trying hard to drown her like. Her feet were high in the air, and her whole body was shaking as a banana leaf shakes when the wind blows.
Balraj got his chance. He ran by the rainwater barrel. But Balraj was confused. He didn’t know where to run. He just stood by the rainwater barrel behind the house, and stared at Pa.
Then Pa changed his mind. He took Ma out of the tub. She coughed and coughed and coughed. She could not stand. She fell, got up, then she fell again. She rolled on the ground and vomited the soapy water.
Pa left Ma alone. He ran about twenty feet and came by the rainwater barrel. Balraj saw Pa coming but he couldn’t move. Pa grabbed him by the barrel and struck him with his right hand. Balraj was not a man; he was not strong like a carat tree; he was just a boy, so the blow flattened him. Pa held his feet and dragged him away from the rainwater barrel. Balraj was bawling and rolling like a pig. Pa stood on his chest and told him to shut up.
Ma was still vomiting, but when she saw Pa standing on his chest, she got up. And Pa was not standing on Balraj’s chest alone; he was standing on his chest and saying, “I go bust you liver today!” Pa was squeezing his chest real hard, and Balraj was bawling and bawling.
Ma ran up to Pa like a rat. Pa couldn’t see her coming, his back was turned. She gave a good push; he almost fell over. Still standing on Balraj’s chest, Pa threw a blow at her head. It sounded be as when a dry coconut falls. Then Pa picked up Balraj as a wet bundle of grass and threw him splash inside the drain. Pa turned around. He was looking for Ma. She ran past the rainwater barrel and went by the outhouse. Pa ran through the banana patch, but before he reached the outhouse she ran westward, crossed Tola Trace and went inside the sugarcane field.
Balraj got up from the canal. He looked. Pa was still by the outhouse. He ran to the front of the house. He looked. Pa was coming through the banana patch again. Balraj dashed across Tola Trace and hid in the sugarcane field.
Sunaree, Rama and Panday were inside the house. Trembling. They peeped through the wide creases in the earthen wall. They saw Ma running and bawling; they saw her cross Tola Trace; they saw Balraj too; they saw him as he ran as a madman inside the sugarcane field. They wanted to run out of the house too, but they were afraid. Pa was walking up and down in the backyard as a crazy man. They were quiet in the house, just looking at him; looking and praying to God to keep Pa away from the house. Pa fished out a bottle of rum from his pocket and took a good drink. He drank out all and threw the flask away; it broke splinks! Sunaree, Ra
ma and Panday were joined together in a living heap. They peeped through the creases again; Pa was walking towards the rice-land. A streak of lightning danced inside the house.
“Hide de dipper Panday!” Sunaree screamed.
“I fraid like hell to move from where I standin up.”
“Hide dat dipper befo de lightnin cut out you tongue.”
“I fraid I tell you!”
Sunaree took the dipper and flung it under the settee. “Why God not kill dat lightnin ass?” Rama asked.
“Quiet befo dat lightnin hear you and cut out you tongue!” Sunaree told him.
They peeped through the creases again. Pa was standing under the barahar tree.
“God go care for we,” Panday said.
“Dat is true bredder.”
But Rama: “God does only eat and drink in dat sky.” “God go give you sin. Wen you dead de Devil go ride you like a horse in de night,” Sunaree said.
They peeped through the creases again. Pa was walking back to the house.
“Let we run outa dis house fast!” Sunaree shouted.
They were ready; Rama and Panday were ready; they were naked and they were ready to run out of the house. Sunaree held their hands as they dashed out of the house. They ran across the yard into Tola Trace. They faced south, because they were running to meet the house of Nanna and Nanny in Rajput Road; they ran fast, because Nanna and Nanny lived half a mile away at the corner of Tola Trace and Rajput Road. Lightning jumped out of the clouds as green snakes and gold fishes, and the thunder shook up the whole of Tola, yet they didn’t stop running. Dark clouds were coming closer to the earth like a black spider with a huge body, yet they kept on running. They ran, because they were sure that God was watching them with his big big eyes.
II
SUNAREE, RAMA AND PANDAY ran down Tola Trace. Their feet went flip flop flip flop as if mules were running. The mud jumped up as little crickets and fell in the grass toots toots. The large holes in the trace were covered with muddy water. They had to watch carefully for the holes, because some of them were very deep. Panday was running good good, but he stopped suddenly. “Me belly hurtin me, Sunaree.”
No Pain Like This Body Page 2
