Different Senses

by Ann Somerville

  “Not that I agree,” she’d said. “But he’s embarrassed, ashamed...and that’s not something Shardul handles well. Give him time, Javen.”

  So I had. Six months’ worth, in fact. Was it enough, finally?

  I pulled out my phone, looked at it, put it away. No, not until I’d done more research. I wanted to be able to have an intelligent conversation with him about the concerns he would be dealing with, instead of making it all about me and my feelings.

  I worked at home next morning but later, running an errand for Tara so she could take a nap, I took the chance to swing past the office. The street looked normal aside from the greatly heightened police presence. My ID was checked at two points, and roads to the central market place were blocked off. The entire shopping district was quiet, and I didn’t see a single indigenous person on the entire journey.

  At the office I pulled up the Kelon Pride site again and called my father. “Javen, I hope you weren’t caught up in what happened yesterday. We’ve been worried.”

  “No, I was fine. Helped some friends get out of the mess and we stayed clear. Dad, who are these people? I hope you kicked the chief of police’s arse over the way they handled things.”

  “Son, please don’t tell me my job. As a matter of fact, I did kick a posterior or two this morning. Your indigenous friends carry some of the blame, though. There were youths ready to fight, carrying projectiles and other weapons, and they took the opportunity for violence as soon as it presented itself.”

  “But the opportunity was presented by the Kelons. I saw the live report.”

  “Yes, they stirred things up. The banis could have just left or let them have their say. I know that might be a lot to ask of them, but I can’t say they share no responsibility for what happened. People won’t believe me when the evidence is otherwise.”

  “Fine. But those guys?”

  “Are being investigated. However, speaking uninvited at a rally isn’t a crime. Throwing rocks at people is.”

  “And the gun fire?”

  “We don’t know where that came from. It’s a worrying development, but there were only half a dozen shots fired. It wasn’t open warfare.”

  “So you think I’m worried about nothing.”

  “No, son. As governor, I have to see both sides, that’s all. Trust me, Javen. Trust me.”

  “I do, Dad,” I said quietly. “Sorry to have worried you.”

  “Just glad to know you’re all right. Do your friends intend to keep on with the strike?”

  “I don’t know. I can see arguments for and against. They don’t feel they have a voice.”

  “Well, you could pass on an unofficial message that serious, well-behaved representatives will be received respectfully at the governor’s residence. If we can show non-antagonistic paths to resolution can have an effect, then strikes and rallies won’t be necessary.”

  “But Denge’s still free.”

  “For now. Send your friends over to talk. I’ll listen, explain. They’ll have a chance to be videoed with me, and seen as equal partners.”

  “Why not ask them yourself?”

  “You don’t think sending one of my beloved sons as my personal envoy is personal enough?”

  I grinned. “Good point. I’ll pass the word. Thanks, Dad.”

  “Thank you, Javen. See you soon, I hope.”

  I’d spent so many years despising my father for what he did for a living, I’d never appreciated how good he was at doing it—or that he was popular for a reason. Love of his kids had persuaded him to look at his blind spot regarding the indigenous population, but it was his own innate talent for building alliances which made that examination worth it.

  I called Shardul’s aunt as soon as Dad hung up. “I’m sorry for what your people experienced yesterday, Roshni-ji.”

  “We all are, Javen. Our community is in shock. But also very angry with your people, particularly the police.”

  Unusually blunt for her, but she sounded stressed. I doubted she’d had much sleep last night. “I don’t blame any of you for feeling that way. I have a message from my father.”

  She listened in silence as I passed it on. “He’s sincere, I promise.”

  “I believe you. I will speak with the elders about this invitation.”

  “Roshni-ji...did Shardul make it out safely?”

  “Yes, he did. He’s here now, unharmed. Thankfully, we had no serious injuries, and no deaths, though only by luck.”

  “Uh...my father said some of your youths went ready for a fight.”

  “I believe so. But considering our history with your people, I’m surprised it was not more, and worse. Nothing would have happened if not for those men.”

  “Agreed. But now you know what’s likely to happen at other rallies. The Kelon reactionaries have an interest in making the Nihan look unreasonable and dangerous. You must tell your people not to fall into that trap.”

  She gave a little laugh. “My nephew has just finished saying that in those very words. We know the risks. Our mistake was in not anticipating the blatant nature of the attack, or the level of police complicity. Next time, we won’t be taken by surprise.”

  “The police were too, I think. It wasn’t an intelligent reaction, but I can kind of see how it made sense at the time.”

  “It did not inspire trust, Javen.”

  “No, it didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. When this is past, I hope you will visit. It’s been a very long time since I saw you.”

  Six months, I thought. “I’ll visit, I promise. Will the strike continue?”

  “That is what we’re discussing. Forgive me, but I should....”

  “Understood. Good luck, Roshni-ji.”

  And that was probably as much as I could do in this situation. My uselessness chafed. I might have even pestered the police reserve office about an active role, if it weren’t for the way the police had dealt with the demonstration. Anti-banis sentiment was likely running high within the force right now, and I no longer had the stomach or the patience to stay silent in the face of that kind of thing

  So with Roshni-ji making it clear that my presence wasn’t wanted during this crisis, my employees holed up safe in their own homes or those of friends, the police continuing to not request my assistance, and my father conducting affairs of the state without my help, I had to do like most adult Kelons in the city and get on with my own work, ignoring the racial hostility that was so thick in this city you could almost see it and yet invisible to anyone ready to ignore it.

  The twins yelled with delight when I picked them up from school, though Madhu wanted to know why I wasn’t at work. “Surprise holiday,” I said. “And that’s why we’re all going to the big park after you guys change and I pick up your mum and Nita.”

  “Yay!”

  Tara had prepared a picnic and I took them all to the river park so they could eat and work off excess energy, while I and their mother sat in the sunshine and played with Nita. But even here, the events of the day before could not be ignored. Not a single Nihan walked their children along the path, or played in the clearing, and there were fewer Kelons around too.

  “It’s hard to believe such appalling things happened so close,” Tara said. “Who fires a gun into a crowd?”

  “Someone trying to cause panic. People could have been killed. I don’t believe it was any indigenous person doing it. It would have been their own who’d suffer.”

  “I think you’re right. Whoever that Kelon Pride group is, they could have said their piece another way. Javen, is this just the start of something worse, do you think? Because I don’t want to bring my children up in the middle of a civil war.”

  I looked at the twins, racing each other on the grass, carefree, happy. Privileged by a life cushioned by status and wealth. “I don’t think it will go that far. It hasn’t yet, and the Nihan have had grievances for a long time. A lot depends on Dad.”

  “He’s made them think they can get what they want
now. So in some ways it’s harder for him.”

  A familiar odour made it clear that Nita needed changing. Tara began the elaborate ritual that went with a baby’s dirty bottom while I watched, and considered Tara’s words, which held a lot of truth.

  “You think he shouldn’t have made any concessions to them?”

  She kept on cleaning. “No, of course not. A lot needs to be changed, and I don’t want other people’s kids growing up unhealthy or poor any more than I want my own. But I know some Kelons wish he’d never given them anything.”

  “Jealous of people who have almost nothing. It’s stupid.”

  She gave me a look as she gently wiped Nita’s nether regions with a cloth. “It’s human nature.”

  “Not all humans.”

  “No, but more than you’d like to believe. Do you still have to work tonight?”

  “Yeah.” I had to do some surveillance on a guy suspected of defrauding our insurance client. They’d passed on a tip-off that the supposedly heavily disabled customer was doing a little night work, and I needed to capture it on video so they could confront him. Boring stuff but it paid the bills. I’d have normally assigned something this simple to Vik or Prachi, but that wasn’t possible this week.

  “Want me to save you some supper?”

  “That’d be great, but you don’t have to.”

  “Javen, I’m cooking already and you know we love feeding you.”

  I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then I better earn my supper by taking the twins for a nice long walk so they want to go to bed early.”

  “Oooh, yes please. Where do they get so much energy? I’m sure it’s not normal.”

  “Must be your genes. We’re all lazy bastards on our side.”

  Wherever the genes had come from, the boys had plenty of charge in their batteries, and wore me down as much as themselves before Yashi joined us to spend a little time playing in the dying sunshine, and collecting his family to go home for supper. “Be careful out there tonight?” he said as we prepared to head off in our different directions.

  “I can guarantee you there is absolutely no risk in sitting in my auto waiting for a middle-aged fraudster to finish his electrical moonlighting, unless I die of boredom.”

  He laughed. “Point taken. Have supper with us properly tomorrow?”

  “It’s a date. See you later, guys.”

  “Bye, uncle Javen!” the twins chorused, and Nita gurgled as if joining in. I waved at the kids until their auto disappeared around the corner. I’d never have children of my own, most likely, but so long as I could be around these three, I’d never miss them.

  My fraudulent gentleman turned up at his employer’s house at six, and drove off to handle the under-the-table job on which his employer paid no tax, and his insurer had been told he was unable to handle because of his disability. He even helpfully attended to some of the circuitry outside the house where he was working, to give me a nice, clear shot of him climbing a ladder and standing with complete assurance on the roof. So much for his balance problems, not to mention his weak back and leg.

  I finished the surveillance by nine, and swung by the office to prepare the report. I sent it all off to our client along with a preliminary account, and by ten, I pulled up into Yashi’s garage. A good night’s work, all in all.

  I thanked Tara in my head again as I reheated and ate the casserole serving she’d left for me. I did more cooking now I had my own little apartment, but I’d never be as good as she was at it. Tonight, I was very glad not to have to take time to prepare a meal. A bad night’s sleep, a long day and sitting attentively for hours had left me knackered.

  But before I went to my own place, I wanted to see my niece again. I loved to watch her sleep. All the kids, really, but only Nita slept with a nightlight. I crept into my old room, now redecorated in soft creams and greens for her, and gazed down at the cot. She had been born on a day of great excitement and great personal sorrow for me, and after high drama that could have ended not with a healthy baby and a tired, happy mother, but a grieving father and brothers coping with their loss. I’d never take her existence for granted.

  In her sleep, she suckled a little at an imaginary nipple, and squirmed, waving tiny fists. I held my breath, wondering if she’d wake, but she settled, dreaming the wordless, innocent dreams of infancy. I couldn’t wait until she was old enough to talk, but I treasured being with her like this too.

  “’Night, sweetheart,” I whispered, standing at the door.

  I had my foot on the landing, ready to head back down the stairs, when I heard glass smashing. The power went out a second later. More glass breaking. I looked down the stairwell and saw the telltale red and yellow flicker of flames just as the house’s fire alarm went off. I pulled out my pocket torch, ran back to the nursery, and scooped Nita up, before bolting into the boys’ room. Both had woken but were still in bed. “Uncle Javen?”

  “Come with me, boys. Slippers. Quick.”

  I ushered them out into the hall, where smoke already rose. Yashi and Tara appeared, Tara also carrying a torch. “Out the back,” Yashi said. “Onto the deck and down the ladder.”

  I passed Nita to Tara and took Harshul’s hand as I followed Tara out through their bedroom and onto the new deck. I thought Yashi and Madhu were behind me, but then I heard, “Zimzim!” and “Madhu, stop!”

  I turned. Yashi had disappeared back out into the smoky hall. I couldn’t see Madhu at all. Fuck.

  “Javen, we have to get out!”

  Tara’s eyes met mine. Husband and son, or daughter and son? “Let me get you all down, and I’ll go after him. Hurry.”

  Outside on the deck, two battery-powered emergency lights let us see the path down the fire ladder past the windows of my little flat, and out into the garden. “Mummy, where’s Daddy?” Harshul said as I pushed him over to her.

  “Uncle Javen is going to look. Come with me.”

  “Go up the back, wake the neighbours. Let me have that torch, it’s brighter.”

  Flames glowed and spat from the windows of the lower storey of the house on both sides. Sirens blared in the near distance, and the neighbours’ lights were on. Tara would be okay. I had to get my brother and nephew. Madhu’s pet gulen lived in a cage in the living room. Madhu would have run there and Yashi gone there after him.

  I grabbed the garden hose and raced down the side of the house, looking through the broken windows, trying to spot a man and boy in the shifting flames and smoke. I swung the hose up, sending a spray of water ahead of me through the living room window. Not much against the fire’s brutal heat but it was all I had. “Yashi! Madhu!”

  I couldn't hear a damn thing with the flames and the water. I kept yelling as I used a garden chair to smash the rest of the window in. Could they have made it here? Could they be alive if they had? “Yashi!”

  “Uncle Javen?”

  I ducked down below the smoke and crawled towards that faint frightened voice. “Madhu! Where are you?”

  “Over here! Daddy won’t wake up.”

  Behind the sofa. Madhu under Yashi. Yashi was...burned, not moving, and not conscious. “Hold on.” I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket. “Slide out, Madhu.”

  “Daddy!”

  “I’ll get him too.” The smoke was getting worse. Had to get them out. I slapped the handkerchief over Madhu’s face and tied it as best I could. “Hold that there. We’re going to crawl out, okay?” The smoke made my lungs burn and I could barely speak for coughing. Had to get out of here. All of us.

  “But Daddy?”

  “I’ll come back for him.”

  The flames blocked the way out. Kitchen? No, downstairs bathroom. I clutched Madhu to me and crawled, trying not to breathe, the wavering torchlight barely doing more but making the smoke easier to see.

  The bathroom was safe, and once I slammed the door behind me, we could breathe. Sort of. “We have to get Daddy,” Madhu insisted, tugging on my sleeve.

  “Soon. Let me get yo
u out first.” I bashed on the small window, trying to break it. I could hear voices. “Help! We're in here! Help us out!”

  A male voice from outside. “Anyone in there?”

  A fireman. “Here! Man and child! Break the window!”

  “Hold on, we’re coming in through the house. Stay down.”

  I pulled Madhu onto the floor, and sucked in the cool, relatively fresh air.

  After what seemed like hours, someone opened the bathroom door and called. Smoke rushed in, but I thrust Madhu up at the fireman. “My brother’s in the living room, hurt. Behind the sofa.”

  “We found him. Let’s get you out.”

  He threw a fire blanket over us, and other fire officers sprayed a path clear with powerful hoses. In seconds we were outside and safe, coughing and sobbing with relief.

  “Daddy!”

  I looked up. Madhu tried to run over to where Yashi lay face down on a stretcher, but the fireman stopped him, giving me a look. “Not yet, son. They’re busy. Let’s get you on oxygen.”

  I kept a firm grip on my struggling nephew as we were led to an emergency services vehicle, and medics took charge, slapping oxygen masks on both of us, and checking the minor burns and cuts. My lungs and throat really hurt now, but I couldn’t take my eyes off where Yashi was being worked on. Please, let him be alive.

  “Javen! Madhu!”

  Tara rushed over and Madhu wriggled free to fling himself at her. “Mummy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean Daddy to be hurt!”

  Tara hugged him and comforted him. Harshul, sombre as he almost never was, came to me. “Is Daddy dead, uncle Javen?”

  I brushed his hair back off his face, and pushed the mask back. “I don’t know, Harshul. I don’t think so.”

  He nodded and I took his hand. Over her son’s head, Tara looked at me in despair. I couldn’t reassure her.

  “I want Daddy,” Harshul whispered. “I’m scared.”

  “Me too.” I kissed the top of his head and felt like weeping too.

  Chapter 2

  Two hours later I was in a private ward, the doctors insisting my smoke inhalation was bad enough to keep me in overnight. Yashi was in surgery. Tara and the kids should have been on their way to the governor’s residence, but wouldn’t leave until they knew if Yashi would live or die. Mum sat with us, worried and pale. Dad would have been there too but our house hadn’t been the only one firebombed that night—a judge’s home had also been attacked. No one had been hurt there, though. Dad had only been able to drop in and comfort Tara briefly, before going off to deal with the press and the police.